A ternary understanding.
- heather
- Jul 20
- 8 min read
Updated: Jul 20

Dear Ones,
A ternary understanding becomes especially crucial as we face the complex challenges of our time. Consider how the Law of Three might illuminate some of the polarizing issues that seem to have us trapped in endless binary conflicts.
For example, we can look at the immigration debate which frequently polarizes around open borders (possibly first force) versus closed borders (possibly second force). Instead of getting locked up in one of these two forces, perhaps we can collectively hold space with compassion that honors both the dignity of migrants and the legitimate concerns of local communities until a third force is revealed. This might manifest as sanctuary cities that also invest in robust integration programs, or comprehensive immigration reform that addresses root causes while creating pathways to citizenship, or something completely unimagined up to this point.
Another example is that we oscillate between digital anxiety (first force?) and technological optimism (second force?), but miss the possibility of conscious technology with innovations designed to enhance rather than replace human connection and wisdom. This could be AI systems built with ethical frameworks, social media platforms designed for authentic community, or digital tools that support contemplative practice rather than distract from it.
Perhaps most fundamentally, we're caught between individual freedom (first force) and collective responsibility (second force). The third force emerging might be interdependent flourishing—recognizing that true individual wellbeing is inseparable from the health of our communities and ecosystems. This shows up in everything from mutual aid networks to regenerative business models to contemplative activism.
Third force rarely emerges through our efforts alone. We cannot manufacture regenerative innovation or interdependent thriving through sheer willpower. Instead, these solutions seem to arise when we hold the tension between opposing forces with enough patience and openness for something genuinely new to be revealed.
This requires the willingness to engage fully with the challenges before us while trusting that our limited perspective doesn't encompass all possibilities. It means doing our part with diligence and creativity while remaining receptive to solutions we couldn't have imagined on our own.
We can cultivate the capacity to see beyond binary thinking in our daily lives. Through self observation, from our inner witness strengthened by our spiritual practices, we see ourselves when we fall into either/or frameworks. And when we notice ourselves trapped in the tyranny of two opposing forces, we can pause, be present to what is, and open our thinking, emotions, and body to something not yet seen with our ordinary eyes.
This isn't about finding a compromise or middle ground, that's still binary thinking disguised. The third force often appears as something qualitatively different, a creative leap that honors the truth in both positions while transcending their limitations.
May the eyes of our heart be open to see the third force stirring in our lives, in our communities, and in our world. May we learn to cooperate with this ancient pattern of divine creativity that pulses through every moment of existence, trusting that even in our most polarized times, new possibilities are always waiting to arise.
With Love,
Heather
Readings from last week's Daily Contemplative Pauses
*All previous readings & reflections can be found here*
Monday, July 14 with Lacey
Reading: "At root, Centering Prayer is a very simple method for reconnecting us with that natural aptitude for the inner life, that simplicity always available within regardless of what is happening externally. It is very simple. You sit…and allow your heart to open toward that invisible but always present Origin of all that exists – God. Whenever a thought comes into your mind, you simply let the thought go and return to that open, silent attending upon the depths. Not because thinking is bad, but because it pulls you back to the surface of yourself. You use a short word or phrase…to help you let go… promptly and cleanly…What goes on in those silent depths during the time of Centering Prayer is between your innermost being and God; that place where as St. Augustine once said, “God is closer to your soul than you are to yourself.” Your own subjective experience of the prayer may be that nothing happened – except for the more-or-less continuous motion of letting go of thoughts, emotions, and sensations. But in the depths of your being, in fact, plenty has been going on, and things are quietly but firmly being rearranged. That interior rearrangement – or to give it its rightful name, that interior awakening… to a more abundant reality – is the real business of Centering Prayer." – Cynthia Bourgeault, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening
Chant: Draw us deeper into silence, draw us into you. Draw us deeper into stillness, draw us into you. – Henry Schoenfield
Tuesday, July 17th with Faye
Reading: 'The Supreme Virtue' from Tao Te Ching No.10
Can you coax your mind from its wandering
and keep to the original oneness?
Can you let your body become
supple as a newborn child's?
Can you cleanse your inner vision
until you see nothing but the light?
Can you love people and lead them
without imposing your will?
Can you deal with the most vital matters
by letting events take their course?
Can you step back from you own mind
and thus understand all things?
Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue.
Wednesday, July 16th with Lacey
Reading: "As we practice with the aim of being “totally open to God – totally available, all the way down to that innermost point of your being” something is strengthened in us. We slowly discover through this act of surrender that we are not our thoughts, we are not our emotions, we are not our sensations, but can root into something deeper than our egos and stories about ourselves and the world. This deeper sense of presence becomes more and more a place we can return to in the course of our day as we go about the particular and complex circumstances of our lives, learning how to abide in the presence of God in each and every moment." – Cynthia Bourgeault, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening
Chant: Attend to the living presence, here and now – Darlene Franz
Thursday, July 17th with Lacey
Reading: "I have spoken so far of Centering Prayer as being rooted and grounded in kenosis, the self-emptying love of Christ understood as the core gesture of his life and the source of his sacramental power. But in Christian mystical theology, the word kenosis is used in another context as well: to describe the internal life of the Trinity. It speaks of the self-emptying love with which the Father spills into (or gives himself fully into) the Son, the Son into the Spirit, the Spirit into the Father. This complete intercirculation in love is called perichoresis. It's sort of like the buckets on a watermill; as they empty one into the other, the mill turns and the energy of love becomes manifest and accessible.
The same analogy I believe holds true for our life in God. What we experience in Centering Prayer as kenosis, or personal self-emptying, is always part and parcel of a greater perichoresis, one self-emptying spilling into another in the great watermill of love, through which God shows us his innermost nature and bestows this vital energy upon the world in a cascade of divine creativity. "I am the vine; you are the branches; abide in me as I in you” (John 15: 3-4).
"The most profoundly beautiful imagery in the New Testament is communal; it speaks of this great intercirculation of love. So often we think of Centering Prayer or any form of meditation—as alone, withdrawn, or focused on one's own personal development or special relationship with God, not shared with others (because we're under the impression that the only way to share with others is to talk). But in point of fact, whenever we participate in that act of kenosis, it is always as part and parcel of perichoresis. That is the essential Mystery, the beauty that Jesus lived and died and through which he rose again. There is no gesture more ultimately communal than kenosis, for it is the ultimate act of self-transcendence. As we participate in this gesture, no matter how isolated it first may feel, how divided and cut off from others, the deep truth we will eventually come to know is that any act of kenosis reconnects us, inevitably and instantly, to that great vine of love." – Cynthia Bourgeault, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening
Chant: I am here, here with you, rest in me. I in you, you in me, all is well – Joy Andrews Hayter
Friday, July 18th with Tom
Reading: "One time, I remember, the bombs started falling as soon as the warning sirens went off. I was in the street. Unable to find an air raid shelter quickly, I rushed into a church only a few steps away. To shield myself from shattered glass and falling debris, I crawled under a pew and hid my face in my hands. But as bombs exploded outside and the ground shook under me, I felt sure that the vaulted ceiling would cave in any moment and bury me alive. Well, my time had not yet come. A steady tone of the siren announced that the danger was over. And there I was, stretching my back, dusting off my clothes, and stepping out into a glorious May morning. I was alive. Surprise! The buildings I had seen less than an hour ago were now smoking mounds of rubble. But that there was anything at all struck me as an overwhelming surprise. My eyes fell on a few feet of lawn in the midst of all this destruction. It was as if a friend had offered me an emerald in the hollow of his hand. Never before or after have I seen grass so surprisingly green." – Brother David Steindl-Rast, O.S.B., Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer
Chant: One, One, One Breathing, One, One, One Being – Joy Hayter Andrews
Saturday, July 19th with Tom
Reading: "Once upon a time, in a not-so-faraway land, there was a kingdom of acorns, nestled at the foot of a grand old oak tree. Since the citizens of this kingdom were modern, fully Westernized acorns, they went about their business with purposeful energy; and since they were midlife, baby-boomer acorns, they engaged in a lot of self-help courses. There were seminars called “Getting All You Can out of Your Shell.” There were woundedness and recovery groups for acorns who had been bruised in their original fall from the tree. There were spas for oiling and polishing those shells and various acornopathic therapies to enhance longevity and well-being. One day in the midst of this kingdom there suddenly appeared a knotty little stranger, apparently dropped “out of the blue” by a passing bird. He was capless and dirty, making an immediate negative impression on his fellow acorns. And couched beneath the oak tree, he stammered out a wild tale. Pointing upward at the tree, he said, “We . . . are . . . that!” Delusional thinking, obviously, the other acorns concluded, but one of them continued to engage him in conversation: “So tell us, how would we become that tree?” “Well,” said he, pointing downward, “it has something to do with going into the ground . . . and cracking open the shell.” “Insane,” they responded. “Totally morbid! Why, then we wouldn’t be acorns anymore.”" – Cynthia Bourgeault
The Wisdom Way of Knowing, p. 64
Chant: Inner Life of Being, bearing Christ within me, come – John Tavener, lyrics by Alan Krema and Darlene Franz
Sunday, July 20th with Heather
Reading: “Of course you do your absolute best to find and hone and wield your divine gifts against the dark. You do your best to reach out tenderly to touch and elevate as many people as you can reach. You bring your naked love and defiant courage and salty grace to bear as much as you can, with all the attentiveness and humor you can muster. This life after all a miracle and we ought to pay fierce attention every moment, as much as possible.
But you can not control anything. You cannot order or command everything. You cannot fix and repair everything. You cannot protect your children from pain and loss and tragedy and illness. You cannot be sure you will always be married, let alone happily married. You cannot be sure you will always be employed, or healthy, or relatively sane.
All you can do is face the world with quiet grace and hope you make a sliver of difference.”
– excerpt from The Final Frontier by Brian Doyle
Chant: I am human. I am holy. Grace renews me. It’s love that guides me. – LeAnn Rimes




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