My Mansion Meditation Class, once sluggish, is coming to life.

Today was my Meditation Class at the Mansion. I’m both a meditation teacher and an acting pastor. It’s growing on me.

Before we meditated, I read from four books; each one was chosen because there was a passage on finding happiness, at any age, in many ways.

(Above, portrait Anne. Meditation Class)

One was The Story Of The Soul, the autobiography of St. ThereseOf Lisieux, the Little Flower, and an advocate for the small ways of helping people.

The second was by Joan Chittister, The Gift Of Years, Growing Older Gracefully, and another book by Chittister, Following the Path, The Search for a Life Of Passion, and Henri Nouwen’s Here And Now.

Each reading from these books touched on the need to have a purpose for aging, the ways to find love in many different ways and at any age, and the idea that just as pain is inevitable in life, suffering can often be a choice.

We all agreed enthusiastically to go forward with my idea of each person in the class telling a story from their lives; I’ll edit the pieces and get them published at a local printing house or even by Maria and go to Staples. Over the next two or three weeks, I’ll talk to the residents who attend the class, and so will Maryse and Bonnie, the activity directors.

I’ll edit each piece, the local bookstore will sell them, and each of the families of the Meditation Class residents will get one. One of the Memory Care members of the Meditation Class suggested naming it “Memory Unleashed,” which I love, but the class will have to vote on the title.

Most of the conversation focused on choosing happiness as a default position.

The idea I like the best, I said, is to focus on what we have, not what we don’t have.

When we count age as nothing but a series of losses,” Chittister wrote, “we lose sight of the gains.”

Then, she added, “a natural kind of fear invades the soul of a person. It is always there. It shadows us. It likes inside us like the tick of a clock in the heart. It warns of when we will not be as supple or steady as we have always known ourselves to be.”

But underneath all of it, she writes, the questions are not just physical. They are emotional, psychological, social, and spiritual issues.

The culture always presents aging as a loss, medical or health problem, or tragedy. I can hardly remember seeing a piece about aging that captures its purpose and meaning and wisdom.

The question to ask, I suggested, is not what hurts and is gone, but what can I do to finally become what I have been meant to be. How can I come confidently and eagerly to this moment?

What, I asked, did everyone get from the class? I asked at the end.

Claudia jumped right in. “We can sometimes be sad,” she said, “but I can choose to be happy too if I want. She thought about it for  a moment and then added, “Okay, I’m happy right now.”

Great answer, I said.

The class has come to mean a lot to me. When I started filling in for the pastor eight or nine months ago, I wasn’t sure how this would go. I’m not usually the pastor of choice for a room full of Evangelical Christians.

The people attending – mostly, but not always, women – seemed sluggish and lethargic. Hardly anyone talked or thought about spirituality or meditation.

That has changed. The group I see now has come to life; they are alive and alert, full of things to know, we laugh a lot, and I see many heads nodding. Everyone has something to say.

They are all eager to come and never need to be prodded. Four of the residents who come are in Memory Care, yet they are focused and alert and always contribute. I so enjoy getting to know them.

Sometimes, someone will fall asleep right after the pills are passed out, but they bounce right back.

Meditation has helped these people consider their lives, but the readings seem to light the spark most frequently.

I never talk down to or patronize them or hide the truth. I always choose writings that speak truthfully about what it means to grow older and the promise and purpose of getting old.

“You all have lost things,” I said, “but you all have gained things. That’s a big idea.”

Several residents volunteered the things they have gained – help when needed, the food they don’t have to cook, new friends, a sense of safety,  lots of books and movies, and family appreciation.

The residents know the truth about aging. It is no secret to them. They are happy to get other points of view about it and talk about it.

This week, we start sitting down one-on-one and collecting stories.

I hope to have the book done and on sale by Christmas. It will be under $5.  It will be simple to print, no shiny covers or thick bindings. But I think it might well be an extraordinary book.

Everyone has a good story to tell, inside the Mansion and out.