“…one of the drawbacks of having clearly set goals and well-outlined master plans [is that] … unless you are careful, they can produce great pressures. Certainly, have a plan and keep it in the back of your mind. But don’t worry about it. This moment is all you have. The past is behind you. The future is still to come. “—Eric Butterworth, Centric Perspective, p. 34
I’ve been on a somewhat lackadaisical Eric Butterworth kick 
lately. Butterworth (1916-2004) was a prolific author, Unity minister and leading spokesperson for “practical mysticism.” He was described, fairly I would say, as “The 20th Century Emerson.”
My Butterworth kick has been lackadaisical because Butterworth himself encourages, or at least quickly allows, such an approach. (See quote above.)
Well, if not lackadaisical, then at least laid back, easy. I’ll read a little bit of one of his books, and then a day or two, or week or two later, something inspires me to read a little more. I don’t have a clearly set goal or master plan to study Butterworth’s collected works, at least not yet. Or even to finish the book I’m reading. (I have a few other inspirational books that call me more directly.)
I accidentally got on this Butterworth kick because, as happens sometimes (at least to me) I was reading something he had written during one of my evensong with scotch sessions. Or compline with scotch, if you want to be exact. At some moment (it’s a little hazy to me right now the exact moment) I had an upsurge of joy at something Butterworth had written.
“I love this guy,” I said, to the empty late-night room around me. So I went immediately to Abebooks.com, started clicking and ordered four more his books—free shipping. Alas, I confess, as the books arrived one at a time over the next 2-3 weeks—-Abebooks is not two-day, Prime-Time-Amazon— I wasn’t as inspired to read them as I had been in that particular, libation enhanced late-night moment.
Still, Butterworth is a clean, clear, uplifting writer in the Unity mode. I first came upon him 30 or more years ago (okay, more) when reading his classic book Spiritual Economics, which is a classic “prosperity gospel” tome.
Back to evensong, or compline, with scotch. Setting aside regular times every day for prayer and meditation is of course a tradition going back thousands of years, in both the east and the west. (We human beings apparently need such “time out,” or “time in,” to stay tuned to the wider rhythms.) In the monastic tradition, the times of prayer are: Matins (nighttime); Lauds (early morning); Prime (first hour of daylight); Terce (third hour); Sext (noon); Nones (ninth hour); Vespers (sunset evening); Compline (end of the day).
I confess, I don’t follow these set times. But then again, I had a young Jehovah’s Witness friend tell me once, “If you can count the number of times a day you pray, you aren’t praying enough.” We are encouraged to pray without ceasing, yes? Which I take to mean be in joy, be in peace, be at ease without ceasing.
Back to compline with scotch, where, at the end of the day, I pray and meditate and study the scriptures, and/or scriptural writing, before going to bed. Being a Buddhist Methodist (Taoist, Quaker, Rastafarian) householder monk, I regularly engage this ancient tradition with a glass of scotch at my side.
I likewise do my morning prayer and meditation (Lauds? Prime?) resting a hot cup of coffee on my half-lotus knee.
An overarching “theme” I’ve been trying to follow of late for my daily activities is to accept the promise of Jesus, when he assured his followers, “my yoke is easy, my burden is light.” Engaging regular morning and evening meditation and prayer, which we are encouraged to do either as Buddhists or Methodists or Buddhist Methodists, is much more attractive, at least to me, if I bring a cup of coffee to the morning ritual and a glass of scotch to the end of day ritual. “My yoke is easy, my burden is light.” Such accoutrements seem to take the pressure off, and makes both the morning and evening sacraments something I look forward to. It’s an easy yoke, a light burden. I do it regularly.
So, back to Butterworth’s suggestion to not take your goals or your master plans too seriously—he’s serious. You don’t hear this side of the story very often, especially here in America. Or, I should say, here in the U.S. (Both Canada and Mexico seem to have a more balanced view of both goals and master plans.)
Again, as Butterworth says, “have a plan, but keep it in the back of your mind.” What’s real is what’s right here, right now, which includes, of course, my plans for the future. As I mature I recognize more and more that my plans are very, very skinny in comparison to what’s right here, right now, which is very, very fat. I probably earn about a C, or C- when it comes to being right here, right now. I, like most of us, spend way too much time (in my head) in the past or future. That’s where morning and evening prayer and meditation come in handy: regular time each day to simply be right here, right now, at peace, enjoying the moment.
Such is the easy yoke, the light burden of a modern day, urban, householder monk. Curiously, sharing the story like this seems to make the yoke even easier, the burden even lighter. Thanks for sharing this moment with me.
