Inhabiting Love’s Call
I have been thinking about invitations.
Not the kind from someone who has acquired my name and email address through a third party, and is now inviting me to an investment opportunity or senior planning seminar. I recognize those invitations for what they are and file them appropriately.
I’m talking about another kind of invitation; an invitation from someone I care about.
When one of those arrives something entirely different happens; I pay attention. I carefully read the invitation, and think about the person who sent it, and what the occasion means to them. I check my calendar, and consider whether I can attend. If I can't, I respond to let them know, and may send a gift as a way of honoring the occasion.
And if I am able to go I don't simply say yes and forget about it. I must make room for it in my life, which may require rearranging my schedule, making travel arrangements, and choosing the appropriate attire.
When I slow down the actual steps of receiving an invitation, I actually realize that quite a lot takes place between receiving it and inhabiting that same invitation. Let’s take a look at the process.
First, I have to notice that it has arrived. I must actually check the mailbox, not just think about checking the mailbox, but go and check it. Then I have to pay attention to what it is asking. A wedding invitation is different from a birthday invitation, which is different from a costume party. If I don't pay attention to the particulars, I could technically respond to the invitation while completely missing what I am being invited into.
What a comedy it would be to show up to a wedding in pajamas simply because I failed to read the invitation carefully. But how often do we actually play out this comedy, both in real life and on the spiritual level? Sitting with this comedic image prompts me to ask, what does it really mean to receive an invitation? And more specifically, what does it mean to inhabit an invitation from our mysterious partner I call Love?
In my last reflection, I explored what it means to inhabit the vast and mysterious, not simply as something we encounter, but as something continually addressing us. The question isn’t whether Love is speaking, but am I receiving what is being offered.
That clarification changes things for me. It frames the (spiritual) invitation as relational. It comes from somewhere, and is significant because of who is inviting me. If this and every moment is a possible invitation from Love, why am I not more attentive?
I cannot simply blunder ahead with my own idea of what Love wants, I have to pay attention, become curious about the particulars. I have to allow myself enough time to actually receive what is being sent.
There is a difference between knowing I have been invited and actually receiving it. Perhaps this is part of what it means to inhabit. It is not merely acknowledging that an invitation has arrived, but allowing it to take up some space in me.
I imagine Love’s invitations also need to take up some space in me. If I believe Love is always calling, if I write and talk about it, even tell myself that I want to live from it, but fail to notice the arrivals throughout the ordinary circumstances of my life, then I am not paying attention. This failure is often due to the fact that I have become distracted. Or, I may not truly recognize the significance of what has arrived because I have already decided what it means, or I may be moving too quickly to notice it at all.
Recently, I have been noticing an invitation in my own life to become less critical. Specifically, I have seen how quickly my inner critic insists that a certain response is necessary if I am going to remain safe, comfortable, or at peace.
This is the managing self at work, that same self that wants the vast and mysterious stripped down to a size it can handle, wanting a smaller, safer version of this moment. Now some may not consider being critical as the critic or that an invitation has been sent, but I am aware that when my critic prompts me into a flippant response when I don’t agree with or like what someone said, I am in invitation territory.
If I am paying attention to the conversation I can sense an immediate need to defend myself. This defense feels like strength in the body, but upon closer inspection it is actually constriction, a felt sense of guarding. I might also recognize the critic insisting that something should have happened differently, which is a familiar story of management. The critic’s voice is clear and sounds like my own inner authority, except for the fact that there is absolutely no love present in the voice. In any of these situations I may understand what is happening, I may catch on to what the critic is up to, and I may not.
But I keep returning, keep asking questions, keep sensing into what is happening in my body, which is presence requesting me to come back home. In such moments I try to remember to become curious about my actual verbal response instead of believing the critic’s story of why a critical response is warranted.
In small ways, I am learning to revisit invitations, and this is another part of inhabiting what arrives. Invitations don't necessarily get answered immediately as there can be a span of time between the moment they arrive and the moment of attendance.
During that time, I may need to read it again, or discern what is actually being asked. I may discover that I am misunderstanding something, or recognize that my initial response was driven by habit or fear rather than by what I really wanted. To fully understand an invitation I must remain in relationship with it.
Eventually, though, an invitation asks something of my life. If I say yes to a friend's wedding then the calendar needs arranging, and time and gas are required to get there. A gift needs purchasing and, eventually, I must actually attend.
If all this transpires, then the invitation has moved from an idea into my embodied life. Perhaps this is one way to recognize whether I am really inhabiting Love's call. I can discern by asking: Where does it touch my actual life, my calendar, my relationships, my choices, attention, and body? My willingness to stay present to something I would rather avoid?
The invitation asks me to participate. And yet, I don't think inhabiting an invitation always means that I must say yes. Sometimes I cannot attend the wedding, or do what is being asked. Sometimes the appropriate response may be to wait, to say no, or to choose another way of participating.
That is why attention matters, and why practicing awareness is important. Receptivity to participation is not blind compliance. I am not trying to become someone who says yes to everything that appears, even if it seems to be spiritual or good. I am trying to become someone who is attentive enough to discern what is actually being asked of me.
This feels especially important when I consider inhabiting Love’s call.
If Love is calling, I don't want to turn that call into another rulebook. I don't want to decide in advance what Love must want and then simply impose my answer upon the circumstances of my life. I want to learn the quality of the invitation, to learn to recognize Love's voice. Sometimes the invitation may be to stay, or listen, or speak, or wait. The invitation may be to let something remain unresolved, or receive another person as they are. It may be allowing myself to change.
Which brings me back to the vast and mysterious. Inhabiting the vast and mysterious doesn't mean figuring it out, but learning to live in relationship with what I cannot completely understand. I don’t need to solve the mystery, just participate as best I can at this moment in time.
And perhaps the first movement is simply bringing attention to the invitation, noticing its arrival, and taking it seriously enough to carefully read it. This type of attention usually has a curious quality to it that allows wonder at what is actually being asked.
Perhaps I don't need to keep thinking about checking the mailbox, which makes me feel like I am doing something, and instead pay more attention to what has already arrived. I’m certain there are invitations that I have yet to fully inhabit.
Can I stay long enough to listen?
Reflection:
What invitation have you already received but not yet fully inhabited?
