We’re at the lake this week and with my “city agendas” set aside, I’ve finally cleared some time for another blogpost. On the first morning I went for a bike ride along familiar roads, but this time I noticed something different — little trails here and there leading into the woods. How had I never seen these before? 

This was a good lead-in to today’s topic, another aspect to Centering Prayer that Joe Stabile taught at April’s cohort. It’s all about the many trails we meander off to during Centering Prayer, but the word Joe used was boats we want to explore as they float down the river. Originally taught by Father Thomas Keating, they represent all the thoughts that arise during a 20-minute contemplative sit. Whether they’re tiny paper boats or huge ocean liners, each tempts us to climb aboard and inspect the cargo. 

I’m so glad Joe taught us to expect them. In particular, he described five kinds of boats.

1. Wool gathering — The dictionary definition of this is idle daydreaming. It originated in the 1500s from the literal act of gathering sheep wool that was caught on bushes or fences. It must have looked like seemingly aimless wandering. A modern example of this distraction are the dust bunnies that float around on the floor, especially when you have pets. They move around with the wind or the air conditioning. It’s the vague, meandering, whimsical mind that roams through lists and categories — all the things you’ve been thinking about and wanting to do, or thoughts that just come and go. By nature I am definitely prone to wandering thoughts, so I recognize this boat.

2. Attractive thoughts — These are thoughts that have an emotional hook. They catch your attention. They tempt us to linger and then we’ll get back to our centering prayer (promise!). An example might be a tense encounter we’ve had with someone recently, and as our mind remembers, the feelings of anger (or whatever it is) start to rise again. The human tendency is to want to mull it over some more. When those kinds of thoughts come up and hook us, Keating says, let them go.

3. Self-reflection — Joe said this will drive you crazy if you let it. Ones on the Enneagram are more prone to this, but I can totally relate. Thoughts like, “Am I doing this right? Am I still? Is that a thought? I think it was a thought. Have I let it go yet? Is my breath right?…” To all these thoughts, Joe said, “You cannot let your cataphatic self watch your apophatic prayer.” In other words, our cataphatic self (which uses words, images and thoughts) wants to watch and analyze but it’s not why we sit. Centering prayer is apophatic and is all about emptying the mind of words and ideas and simply resting in the presence of God. In my experience, letting go of these boats is constant, but that’s why Joe told us it will always feel like work.

4. Thoughts from the unconscious — Joe began describing this boat by reminding us of our intention of consenting to the action of God. We’ve opened ourselves up to the activity of God. But what do we do when something “important” seems to happen? A person might feel dizzy, weird, or have tears. Some raw feeling might come up. Hello! We learned that in those moments, God is doing some rearranging and releasing within you but the temptation is to begin to wonder about it. As Joe reminded us often, what’s happening is none of our business. We don’t need to know, and anyway, the soul’s transformation is not our job. I’m not running the show. We can let go and simply remember we’re in good hands. 

5. Spiritual materialism — The fifth boat is lengthier to describe said Joe and poses a bigger challenge for us. A good way to understand it is by examining how most of us go into silence — for some kind of insight, illumination or intercession. We think, “If I just get really quiet and shut out the distractions around me (heck, I’ll even travel to Dallas!), then maybe I’ll hear God’s direction.” We come by this honestly because we’ve  been taught that silence is the backdrop to listening for messages from God. After all, isn’t the Bible full of examples of God speaking, whether it’s a still small voice or thunder from a mountain? It’s not that this is wrong, but the goal of Centering Prayer is different. It’s really hard to erase this cataphatic programing from our hearts and imaginations. 

But what happens when something does happen in those times? The other day I found tears streaming down my cheeks. What was I to make of it? Joe described that sometimes, something emerges into form. Maybe it’s tears, or a psychological or spiritual insight, or a discernment we’ve been waiting for. Maybe a key sermon sentence comes up.

The answer — Let it go. Whatever it is, let it go. It could be a deeply devotional or mystical experience, like where we’re stirred to pray for someone, or a vision. But as with every boat, we are asked to let it float on by. Joe said he’d never ask us after 20 minutes, “What did you get? What did God give you?”

Letting go might seem harsh or wrong. Haven’t we been taught that’s what silence is for? Don’t we need our daily bread? Joe assured us not to worry. A genuine insight will come back in conscious form. Apophatic prayer is sacred space, and it’s sacred for God too. God’s not going to tease us. 

We have to remember that the ego abhors a vacuum and it will try to fill it up anytime it feels that. If you give in to it, you end up in cataphatic prayer, and it’s never worth the price. By your willingness to stay in apophatic prayer for 20 minutes (letting go), you are creating an atmosphere that will protect and carry you all the way. 

The antidote for spiritual materialism is the attitude of spiritual non-possessiveness. In the desert, Jesus could have changed all those stones into bread but he didn’t. He didn’t hold on to the power that he had.  Our natural inclination is to grab on and build ourselves up but spiritual non-possessiveness lets go instead. 

Cynthia Bourgeault (another teacher) writes that Centering Prayer is a little bit like learning to see in the dark. When we arrived at the lake on Sunday, I noticed a night light in the bathroom. During the day when the cones in my eyes were active (photoreceptors which are highly attuned to the light), this faint light hardly seemed like it would be adequate so I had my iPhone flashlight ready. But it was way too bright. At night we rely more on our rods which perceive light more subtly, and the room and even hallway seemed bathed in ample moonlight. Bourgeault always considered it a fine piece of synchronicity that “the normal length of time required for our day vision to give way to night vision — 20 minutes — is exactly the length of time recommended for a period of Centering Prayer.”

As my vision changes, remembering about the five kinds of boats has been invaluable these past months. Joe’s teaching reminds me that I’m not alone. All I’m invited to do is rest in and consent to the presence and action of God. It’s both the easiest and hardest thing I’ll ever do.

The chief thing that separates us from God is the thought that we are separated from God. Thomas Keating