Dear Brothers,
Come join us for friendship, brotherhood, and a heart-centered community experience. Renew, replenish, and restore yourself at the 2016 GSV Winter Meditation.
It could be one of the most significant retreats you will ever attend. Why? The energy you flow immediately affects your physical health, your emotional health, your human interactions, your value in the world, and your connection to Spirit. The energy you flow, the emotion that beams from your heart, changes EVERYTHING in your life.
AND you have total creative control over it…through spiritual practice. In this retreat we are going to have some real significant conversations about it.
Please join us.
“The purpose of our lives is to be happy.” —The XIV Dalai Lama, The Art of Happiness
“Be happy, for your only function here is happiness.” —A Course in Miracles (Lesson 102)
“Unconditional happiness is the highest technique there is … This is truly a spiritual path, and it is as direct and sure a path to Awakening as could possibly exist … Events don’t determine whether or not you’re going to be happy. They’re just events. You determine whether or not you’re going to be happy.” — Michael A. Singer, The Untethered Soul
“To be (happy) … or not to be (happy) … THAT is the question.” — Shakespeare/Delgado
Tony James, Convener
Cami Delgado, Keynote Speaker & Co-Creator
Jim Stratton, Co-Creator
From the Visionary – My Little Altar
This is the fifth, and final, in a series of articles about altars republished from the Visionary archives. It was originally published in the Summer 2001 issue of GSV’s Visionary journal.
My Little Altar
By Andrew Ramer
The small wooden chest beside my bed comes from a Danish Modern wall unit that my father and his second wife purchased in the mid 1960’s. I got it in 1975 when I moved to my first apartment in Brooklyn. The vertical supports didn’t reach the ceiling of my hundred-year-old brownstone so I put them out on the street, along with all the bookshelves. But I kept the chest and it’s been my meditation altar ever since.
A succession of objects have sat on top of this chest, with only one constant feature: a pair of brass Sabbath candlesticks that my mother’s mother’s mother brought here from Russia.
[pullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]In the middle of my earliest altar, created when I was 5, were two ceramic figurines I was in love with, a cowboy and an angel. They no longer exist, except in a blurry photograph.[/pullquote]
Around and between them have been crystals, feathers, shells, beach rocks, post cards, photographs, icons, statues of goddesses, gods, animals, angels and often – nothing. Today a glass hand sits between the candlesticks. To the right of it are a brass egg, a crystal on top of a polished lapis disk my mother gave me and a statue of two metal flute players sent to me by Sister Who. To the left are the silver kiddish cup my father’s father sipped his wine from on the Sabbath, a tiny glass globe of the earth, and a plastic deer that I bought in Cliff’s hardware and variety store on Castro Street for $2.29
In the middle of my earliest altar, created when I was 5, were two ceramic figurines I was in love with, a cowboy and an angel. They no longer exist, except in a blurry photograph. Arranging altars has always been calming and focusing for me. Long before I ever heard the word “meditation,” I would sit in front of my altar; tuning into … something. The objects remind me of things that are important, the burning candles still my senses and the blank white wall behind the altar has always been a source of rest. As a firm believer in disorganized religion, I do not sit and meditate every day at my altar. But Its there all the time, generating an energy field that I can slide into when I need it.
I also have altars on top of both of my toilet tanks and on a kitchen shelf. My public altar is in the living room, on top of two larger chests from the same old wall unit my bedroom altar came from. It is covered with icons, kachinas, menorahs, Buddhas, Zuni fetishes, rocks and more candles. Some of my friends think it’s a coffee table and put their cups on it when I have a party.
This article was originally published in the Summer 2001 issue of GSV’s Visionary journal. Read the original article in the Visionary.
Call for Participation: Annual Planning Retreat
GSV Annual Planning Retreat
January 17 – 18, 2016
Sunday afternoon – Monday afternoon
No cost for participants*
Every year, the Council of Elders of Gay Spirit Visions sponsors a Planning Retreat for the Council and all working groups. Participation is open to those who currently serve on a work group, those who have attended at least one GSV conference, or to individuals that have received prior Council approval.
We especially encourage work group liaisons and active work group members to attend. Expenses for the Sunday overnight stay and meals will be paid by the Council. You may attend the Planning Retreat without attending the Winter Meditation.
Read more about the annual Planning Retreat >>
Register for the Planning Retreat >>
* Planning Retreat registration costs are paid for by the Council of Gay Spirit Visions.
2016 GSV Winter Meditation: Happiness
GSV 2016 Winter Meditation
Happiness: Positive Emotion and Creating a More Vibrant GSV, LGBT Community, and World
January 15 – 17, 2016
at The Mountain, Highlands NC
Two Nights: $226.48
[standout-css3-button href=”http://www.themountainrlc.org” opennewwindow=”false”]Register Today[/standout-css3-button]
Dear Brothers,
Come join us for a conversation on happiness, true happiness. Come to this heart-centered, upbeat, uplifting, inspiring, experiential, interactive, energizing, and enlivening retreat.
Why?
People who live mostly in positive emotion are healthier and live longer lives. They make better friends and have a wider circle of friends. They make better spouses and have better relationships and marriages. They are smarter and more creative. They are more resilient—they bounce back faster after adversity. And they are also kinder, more loving, more generous, and more giving.
Happiness does not happen by chance—it happens by choice. It is a practice, and the more you practice, the better you get at it. Anyone can be happier, and happier, and happier, if they choose.
This workshop provides the vessel for you to examine and begin to dissolve obstacles to happier living and gives you insights as to how you can be a more valuable presence in GSV, the LGBT community, and the world.
“To be (happy)… or not to be (happy)…THAT is the question.”
— Shakespeare/Delgado
Tony James, Convener
Cami Delgado, Keynote Speaker & Co-Creator
Jim Stratton, Co-Creator
From the Visionary – Feeling Close to Spirit
This is the fourth in a series of articles about altars republished from the Visionary archives. It was originally published in the Summer 2001 issue of GSV’s Visionary journal.
Feeling Close to Spirit
by Jennings Fort
I want to be a spiritual person. So it makes sense to me that I should have a daily spiritual practice. I’ve pondered this often, thinking other GSV people must have satisfying daily rituals that make them feel one with Spirit.
I have an altar on our bedroom dresser. There are framed photos of my mother, sister, and late father. My partner, John, and I are in a photo taken on top of the fire tower at a GSV Fall Conference. I have photos of my dear friends Mark Clinard and Doug Parrot, three of my grandparents, and my uncle Jennings who died in World War II. I have a lapel pin of the One Voice Chorus in Charlotte, NC, where I sang for nine years. This gay chorus was a gift from Spirit that has helped me along my spiritual path. In the middle is a candle. I have it in a small clay cauldron my friend, Larry Jackson, gave me. Underneath, there’s a tile that says “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine” John gave me when I first moved in with him. Sometimes I burn incense there, but not often. Between work, the gym, errands and just vegging out, I feel guilty that I neglect my altar. Sometimes, I’ll add a card from a loved one or something just to change it a little. [pullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]I meditate nearly every morning. It’s transcendental meditation that I learned 25 years ago. You’d think by now I would have reached some kind of cosmic consciousness, but I really haven’t. [/pullquote]
I meditate nearly every morning. It’s transcendental meditation that I learned 25 years ago. You’d think by now I would have reached some kind of cosmic consciousness, but I really haven’t. I’ve meditated off and on for years. It’s a way of easing into the day. After 20 minutes of reciting my mantra, I pray, thanking Spirit for my life, for John, asking that I don’t expect too much or too little from him, for my mother and her health and the well-being of Mark and Doug. Then I ask for help to let go of anger that I have about my father, who drank himself to death eight years ago. Even if my meditation isn’t the best, I still offer my prayers to Spirit and I think Spirit listens.
I meditate nearly every morning. It’s transcendental meditation that I learned 25 years ago. You’d think by now I would have reached some kind of cosmic consciousness, but I really haven’t.
One of the most spiritual things for me right now is making compost. I love gardening. It’s a passion handed down by my mother. I collect all the coffee grounds, banana peelings, eggshells and rotten things from the refrigerator in a brass bowl on our kitchen countertop. When it’s full, I take it to the dogwood tree in the the back of the yard. In this shady and green place, I pour the food scraps, rousing the flies and gnats. I stir the pile and take in the sweet rotting smell. Sometimes I’ll grab a handful of compost and feel it between my fingers, thinking about how this will nourish the flowers we plant. I’ll linger a moment, watching the insects and the worms, and just enjoy the quiet. It makes me feel good to think I’m helping the earth, even in this small way. But the best part is the quiet. Maybe between my altar, meditation and composting, these few quiet moments are enough. Then, at least, I feel the warmth of Spirit beside me.
This article was originally published in the Summer 2001 issue of GSV’s Visionary journal. Read the original article in the Visionary.