Life will always confront us with plenty of closed paths--fallen
branches, knotted catbrier, etc. And we also have plenty of these within
ourselves. We don't need to create any more closed and scratchy paths.
One of the great gifts of contemplative practices is the training
they give us in a GROWING ABILITY TO NAVIGATE CLOSED PATHS.
Sitting down to meditate is often like entering a thicket--a
tangled thicket of thoughts and feelings. Ideas and memories. Compulsions,
ego-stroking, ego-damning. Pressures, fears, hopes, dreams.
Mindfulness doesn't teach us to push through these in order to get
someplace else--it trains us instead to be still as these things come to
us.
In an interesting way, mindful practice is nevertheless very much
like a path--a path that is traveled best by keeping still.
To me this does very often feel like Mary Oliver describes it:
Where the path closed
down and over,
through the scumbled leaves,
fallen branches,
through the knotted catbrier,
I kept going.
By keeping going with the practice of being still, we do seem to
get somewhere. And coming to the edge of a pond seems as good an image as any
for where we get. Open space. A bigger perspective. Light.
Air.
And doesn't the edge of a pond feel good in contrast to knotted
catbrier!
Spiritual formation often feels like PUSHING THROUGH.
Learning to recognize the special kind of balance where our souls
can rest often feels like really hard work. And it is. It's the hard work it
takes to become familiar with how to rest--anywhere.
Coming to the edge of the pond doesn't mean we'll often see 'a shower of
white fire,' it doesn't mean we'll be always be able to 'step over every dark thing.' But
it does mean, learning to be stiller does always mean, we
will see better.
We will see WHATEVER.
We will we better see whatever might present itself. Whatever
comes into the open space in front of us, around us, behind, we will see.
And we're so much better navigating life when we see it.
Today is Epiphany. When a couple of curious disciple-wannabees saw
Jesus passing by, they asked him, Where do you stay?
He answered, Come and see.
