My spiritual and creative search has led me to the teachings of Avatar Meher Baba, who is also called The Awakener.

There are many books and online sites about Meher Baba, for those who are interested in Him.

The spiritual connection to Meher Baba gives me a beautiful sense of oneness with all of the world’s major faith traditions.

The birthday of Avatar Meher Baba (1894-1969), is February 25.

In meetings and gatherings, including for His birthday, we discuss His life and teachings. These Meher Baba meetings may include films about Him, writings, special speakers, music and devotional poems.

Helma’s Madonna, photo by Sue Cook

thank you Lord Meher Baba
for the gift of your presence

     I find Lectio Divina is a contemplative refuge for me, yet also a way for reaching back into the world.  A way to find answers.
     The practice originated with the Benedictine Order of the Roman Catholic Church.  I had briefly read a pamphlet about Lectio several years ago.  The practice was initially formed as a solo form of contemplative prayer.
      Then last year, I began to attend Lectio Divina in a small Lenten group setting at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Port Townsend, Washington. 
      I did some research and discovered that Lectio (Divine Reading) is now also sometime practiced for spiritual discernment in combination with creative dance, poems, photographs and making art; even with films.
     The ongoing development of Lectio with the potential of encompassing all faiths and many forms of spiritual expression, is a special way to “practice the presence” either solo or in a group setting.

  
   May 1, 2013, a few additional notes

     Lectio Divina is a reading of a sacred text for meditation, prayer and discernment.  This process can be done alone or within a group context.  This evening, for the very first time, one of my poems was chosen to be the focus of the Lectio Divina experience.

     An aspect of my commentary during our discussion was the phrase by Meher Baba, “God alone is real.”   Another comment I included was, “I am casting all of my burdens on the Christ within and I am free.” (a saying by Unity Minister Catherine Ponder). 

    I am honored that my poem was accepted for the gathering this evening, at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Port Townsend, Washington.

     I am gratitude that my writings exist in places where they may be shared to inspire people, so that people are better able to understand life and the society in which we live. 

    I am grateful that I am able, as a poet and an artist, to give to others on their spiritual journey.
    This is the poem that was included in the Lectio Divina.

In The Night Of My Heart
by Sharon Lia Robinson

“I am never alone
I speak with you always
You speak with me always…”
(from Vrindaban by Octavio Paz)

In the night of my heart
I hold a place of healing

A sacred place of sojourn
A peaceful setting for pilgrimage

In the midnight moon of my heart
I sense a deeper truth
Yearning growing fruitful
Beyond misunderstanding

I hold this special place
Hallowed receptive knowing.

    Waking up this morning at 5 A.M. to meet my friend Margaret.  Several months ago we signed up together to volunteer to cook breakfast today at our local homeless winter shelter.

     The day before, I was hesitant, wondering if I could do the work.  I had suddenly realized I would probably be on my feet for at least two hours, sometimes that is a challenge for me.  Last night I woke up at 2 A. M. and I could not get back to sleep for several hours.  I was hoping I could stay awake. 

     Margaret drove me to the church, where we both go.  Several years ago I was drawn there, when they had an evening liturgical service.  A notice in our local paper invited people of all faiths to attend.  The group was small and gradually, I began to attend the planning meetings to choose liturgical readings and music. 

      Encouraged by the group, I began to occasionally share my prayer poems and creative dance as part of the evening service.

     Then about a year ago, I decided to join the church, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church.  That is how I was invited to sign up to volunteer to cook breakfast at the winter shelter, during the week that St. Paul’s church volunteers there.

     As I chopped onions, celery, and green peppers for the egg omelets, and while slicing the English muffins or washing the cutting boards, I remembered the kitchen job I had, as a college student. 

     Skills I had learned from other short term jobs as a cook and kitchen assistant were also remembered as I helped in the St. Paul’s kitchen. 

      In the summer of 1969, I followed a hunch and I walked down a rural dirt road, near my college.  The sign said, St. Mary’s in the Field and I was interested to know what the place was.  Someone at my college may have told me that it was a home for “wayward”  teenage girls and that they might need someone to work in the kitchen.

     Halfway down the road I saw the Episcopal priest, who was repairing a doorway on a building and I asked if they needed anyone to work there.  He said that he was only there for a brief stay.

      He told me to go to the office and talk to Sister Bonaventura.   Sure enough, they were in need of a part-time cook.  I could have my own room there and walk to my summer college classes down the road. 

      Being in that environment was good for me.  I learned something about what nuns do…they do arts and crafts and garden, supervise, nurture, pray, play guitar and sing.    At a young age, I was able to see spiritual women out in the world.  I longed for a retreat, somewhere I could pray and have peace.  I feel that I was spiritually led to St. Mary’s in the Field, at that time. 

      I still have a few clay fired beads from an arts and crafts class that I took with a local volunteer who came by to work with the teenage girls.  Most of the girls were there because of problems in their families or because they had run away from home. 

    Although I was only nineteen, and just a few years older than the resident girls, I was in charge of making breakfast during the week and dinner on weekends.

    I recall once, Sister Bonaventura came in to the kitchen and asked me to wear a skirt instead of trousers.  Another time, she came in to the kitchen with fresh picked corn from their farm, for me to cook.

    I eventually left St. Mary’s in the Field to attend college full-time in the fall.

    Later I returned and the atmosphere was changed. 

    Although I didn’t realize at the time, I was slowly developing an interest in God, spirituality and devotion.  I was finding my own path, went to their chapel for services occasionally, and mostly, just learning that wearing a nun’s habit involved more than sitting in church.

I was an abstract sort of an artist, even as a young child.  I noticed that the children in my first grade class who got the best marks in art were those who drew representational work.  For instance, I would make designs which I knew the teacher enjoyed. 

However, at some point, I realized that the boy who painted a truck that actually looked like a truck would get a better mark.  I copied this idea of representational painting even though it was not in my heart.  I was drawn to become accepted. 

Years later I became a professional abstract artist.

I believe that Meher Baba gives me the courage to do my self-taught art & poetry.  I was an artist’s model for eight years, working for one year in New Haven, Connecticut and then in all of the major colleges and universities in the Boston, Massachusetts area, when I lived in Somerville, Mass.

During those years, I attempted to learn representational drawing.  From time to time I occasionally  took an art class at one of the  schools where I modeled.  I think the reason I couldn’t learn to draw that way is because there was something else deep and central inside me. 

The need to process my life by putting together the fragments, the broken pieces.  As a collage artist.

When I visited Meher Spiritual Center in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, I went to tea at Lynn Ott’s studio.  I began to weep.  Lisa Greenstein an artist who was then also visiting the retreat, said, “It’s Baba.”

Several years later, healing the old wounds of formal education and family response or indifference, I am still writing free form poems and creating abstract art.  

Meher Baba gives me courage to feel and to hear my own voice.  The depth of His compassion is boundless.