Giving Up Noise for Lent

Lent has begun. As a child I would prattle along with all kinds of clever repartee -- based no doubt on unrealized misspelling -- about dryer residue and black sweater bans. But hopefully even then I knew somewhere deep in my soul that I was being sophomoric. Though the season has not been as ritualized and developed in my religious tradition as it has in others, even we have recognized that Lent is about something important. If we haven't always wanted to get serious about "giving up" one thing or another in observance, the realization has probably not been too far beneath the surface that our resistance is less about freedom than our profound and gripping addictions. So dependant on so many things, we simply can't bring ourselves to set any of them aside -- even if only for a time; even if for the healing of our spirits.

And so this season begins, and I wonder about the spiritual and psychological clutter in the household of my own soul. What might I "give up", if that is the description of it; or what might I clear away? My wife might suggest the iTunes store or the complete DVD collection of Hogans Heroes episodes I've been working my way through during lunches with the dog. The cell phone comes to mind, and e-mail. How many times do I check for messages -- in a day? In an hour? In...?

Or if not "giving up," what might I "take on" as a spiritual discipline throughout the season? Regular vacuuming would be nice, or more diligent updating of my check register. But seriously: what?

If I learned anything -- brought home with me anything of value -- from my recent retreat, it is the importance of being "still"; the constitutional necessity of looking out the window patiently enough, and often enough to see the particular arc of the tree branch across the street or the nuanced hue of today's sky blue or the unique pattern of the snow thaw on the lawn.

"Still" enough to see, to hear, to smell, to feel those dynamics unfolding and swirling both around me and within. I am no longer on a train with a passing landscape, but I am in a context -- an environment -- in which I have no business participating if I have not first taken the honoring time to become aware of it.

Maintaining"stillness" doesn't sound quite as sexy as "giving up chocolate" or some other indulgence, but it seems healthier to me -- the calorie issue notwithstanding.