Autumn

As I step in to Autumn

the days close around me.

The edges of light draw in.

I am not restricted:

I am held.

Encircled.

And I slip,

foetus-like,

into the place of rest.

 

When the clouds are heavy

and the storm breaks,

I sense my vulnerability.

The encroaching fear

needles me.

Will the flood sweep me away?

 

But the holding is gentle

and the silence is safe:

it beckons me deeper.

Encased as a seed,

I tumble into the abyss

and curl into the loam.

 

I am planted deep in the divine.

The darkness shines.

I wait to hear love’s call.

Photo by Red Dot on Unsplash

 

All is Well: A Journey in Contemplation

g Reality

It may seem like a strange question, but: what is reality?  It seems to me that in the clamour of modern life we have lost our hold on what reality is.  Many of us know this through our experiences of social media.  We scroll through posts and know that, whilst we can touch base with people, much of what we see is not ‘real’.  More than ever before, we have the opportunity to curate our own lives and to portray a life that is not real.  We can reach across the ether and ‘hold hands’ with a friend – give them a virtual hug – but this can come at the price of not living in the present: not interacting with the people on our doorstep and the environment in which we live.

Human beings are amazing creatures and the exponential rise of technology means that many of us – especially in developed nations – live lives that are insulated from what it means to be alive.  We don’t have direct contact with the source of the things that enable us to live: our water comes from taps; our food comes from shops; our heating comes through radiators.  We take for granted: shelter; full stomachs; clean water and warmth.  And in the same way that we have lost contact with the physical sources of life, so too have we lost touch with the spiritual source of life.  God/Love gets lost in all the superficial things we hold onto and we seek solace through various forms of addiction – to food, drugs, alcohol, pleasure.  Always seeking more, bigger, better.  Trying to hold on to youth and beauty instead of seeking the inner wisdom that comes from a life in touch with reality.

This is not to say that life is easy.  Life trips us up all the time.  It throws ‘curve balls’ at us that knock us off balance.  And sometimes that fall is exactly what we need.  Sometimes that fall takes us face-to-face with reality and we are able to let go of the things that have blinded us.

It is a hard message to hear, but a true one.  We need to spend some time in darkness, and we need to recognise our current trajectory given our lack of care for our planet.  Human beings are amazing creatures, and yet despite all our knowledge and scientific discoveries we too often run away from the truth.  When there is bad news there is only so much we can take and then we seek comfort – comfort that is often taken at the expense of others who are far away enough for us to ignore.

I struggle with this.  I struggle to live in a world where I know that other people suffer, where the planet is being exploited and destroyed, where it seems that too many of us – and in that I include myself – are too lethargic, or scared, or selfish to act in love for the whole of humanity and the planet.  It is all too much – the problems seem too big to even conceptualise, so I disappear back into my comfort zone.

I believe that God wants us to live in reality.  To face the darkness and, indeed, to dwell in it sometimes.  It is there that we can escape the clamour of the world: we can find God and God can find us.  It seems counterintuitive in many ways and yet it is the pattern of nature - life leads to death and death to life – the very pattern that Christ as a man lived out in his time on earth.  He did not turn his back on the realities of life – he reached out in love and when death sought him out he absorbed the hatred that put him there and accepted his path.  In accepting his path, he found life.

In many ways it seems crazy to be writing these thoughts and ideas under the title of ‘All is well’ when our world is such a mess.  But I honestly believe that when we face the reality and ugliness of our world and ourselves, it is then that God/Love enters us with the reassurance that ‘all is well’, and we become aware of a bigger reality.  A reality that is cosmic and beyond our understanding. We gain a peace that we don’t understand and yet is more real than any we have previously experienced.

Meditation has been described as ‘practising dying’.  In meditation I sit in silence and I let go of all that is inside me: I just sit.  The way of contemplation is a ‘letting go’ not just of the physical, but also of the ego – a letting go of myself.  Jesus taught us to give up our lives and take up our crosses.  Why such a tough request?  Because that is the way of life and peace.  God does not come to punish us in this, he comes to us in Love and wants us to find the Love that he planted in our souls at the very beginning; that he planted in the whole of his creation.

The darkness we experience is sometimes an unknowing.  Whilst I am energised to understand more about how our universe functions, I am conscious that there are always more questions.  Whilst I love to find out more about how people work and to find empathy, I am always faced with people and situations that surprise me and that I don’t understand.  Sometimes I need to let go of the desire to understand and sit in the mystery of it all.  God/Love is mystery and sometimes our journey is a road of un-knowing.  Sometimes we need to unpick what we thought we knew and trust the falling; trust the mystery; trust the darkness.  Let go of our need to be in control and trust that God/Love will always catch us.

Through darkness we find light.  Fighting for justice and peace, valuing our planet and every human life, is not something we can do without this inner journey.  We will burn out; we will lose hope.  We need to do the inner work that takes us to the real reality; that affirms that ‘all is well’.  Then we will live in hope and faith, and love will be our source and our guide.

 

Poem:

A Blessing of  the Light

May God’s light fall on you:

Warm your skin;

Seep through the atoms of your being;

Find the hurting places, and

Touch them, with love.

May it lift your chin and pour into your eyes.

May it kindle the love that only you can bring:

A glimmer in the darkness.

 

May God’s light grow in you.

Glow in you.

Connecting the inner pathways;

Bridging the broken places.

May it rise up from your belly,

Energising and revitalising,

Opening up the sacred space

Within you.

 

May God’s light shine from you.

May your eyes be lanterns

For the light within your soul.

May it reach into the places of sorrow,

Touch the suffering,

Bring hope to the hopeless.

May it connect you with life

As the darkness within you falls away.

 

May God’s light lift you

when you fall – because you will.

May it take your arm

in your frailty,

and hold you.

Until all around you, and within,

Is love.

Love, love, love.

 

Photo by Casper Rae on Unsplash

 

Musing#8: Love is everywhere: Love is mystery

There are three pictures of Love that I find helpful.

The first is Love as water.  The nature of water: the way that it flows; the way that it can reach into the smallest of places; the way it is absorbed.  That reminds me of Love.  Jesus talks of a spring of water that is inside us – that gushes up and brings life and joy.  And then there is the image of the water in the marshes – it rises up from the ground unseen, but when we switch on our awareness to it we find that it is growing and doing its work.

The second is Love as light.  Light helps people to see.  The smallest light in a dark place will have an impact: the blindness the dark brings is broken as grey edges are revealed.  Light brings clarity, warmth and comfort. That reminds me of Love.  And then there is the way that light reveals beauty: whether it be in the sunrise; as it shines through a stained-glass window; as it brings the colour in the natural world alive. 

The third is Love as breath.  The very air we breathe.  Keeping us alive and enabling us to do all that we do.  There are times when we find ourselves literally gasping for air.  There are other times when the gentle rhythm of breathing can lull us into a spiritual moment: from the sleeping child, to the ‘dying’ breaths of a loved one.  That reminds me of Love.  Jesus appeared to his followers and breathed on them, saying, “peace be with you”.  Our breath can teach us about Love.

Then one day, musing on these pictures of Love, a realisation.  How had I not thought of this before? Love is so much bigger, so much more present, than these pictures can portray, because…

Love is not only found in water but also in the desert; in the parched places.  In the book of Genesis we find the story of Hagar who runs away to the wilderness where there is no water.  In this place Love finds Hagar: sees her, recognises her and sustains her.  In our ‘desert places’ Love finds us: sees us; recognises us and sustains us.  She finds us where there is no water to refresh us and gives us what we need.

Love is not only found in light but also in darkness.  Darkness is often used as a metaphor for times when Love seems absent.  These times can feel ‘dark’: it can be difficult to see the way forward. Things come crashing down on us and we feel alone.  The writer of Psalm 40 describes this as being in a pit. But Love is present in this darkness – in the pit: she has not gone anywhere.

And – this is a gut feeling – Love is not only found in breath but in the lack of it.  Something in me feels sure that in the literal nothingness of a vacuum we will find the essence of Love.  And when our loved one takes their final breath, that is not only the end of something but also a beginning: a step into something new.  Love is there in her own absence.

And so these words in Psalm 139 make complete sense:

Where can I go from your spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

And the light become night around me,”

Even the darkness will not be dark to you;

The night will shine like day,

For darkness is as light to you.

Love is everywhere and in everything.  That is what Love longs for us to know, so that she can reach out to us and into us.

Then another question; another realisation.

Is Love the water? No.  Is she the light or the breath? No.  Is she the desert, the darkness or the nothingness? No, no, no.

All these are metaphor.  They help us to understand and perceive Love, yet Love is beyond our understanding and our ability to perceive.  We get snatches; we catch glimpses, but Love is mystery.  She stays beyond our control; outside of our boxes; free from taglines and soundbites.  Closer to us than we are to ourselves; infinite and infinitesimal; beckoning to us in silence.

Love is the mystery that holds us, and whose only requirement of us is that we let ourselves be held.

Photo by Karolina Kolodziejczak on Unsplash

 

Musing#8: God is everywhere: God is mystery

There are three pictures of God that I find helpful.

The first is God as water.  The nature of water: the way that it flows; the way that it can reach into the smallest of places; the way it is absorbed.  That reminds me of God.  Jesus talks of a spring of water that is inside us – that gushes up and brings life and joy.  And then there is the image of the water in the marshes – it rises up from the ground unseen, but when we switch on our awareness to it we find that it is growing and doing its work.

The second is God as light.  Light helps people to see.  The smallest light in a dark place will have an impact: the blindness the dark brings is broken as grey edges are revealed.  Light brings clarity, warmth and comfort. That reminds me of God.  And then there is the way that light reveals beauty: whether it be in the sunrise; as it shines through a stained-glass window; as it brings the colour in the natural world alive. 

The third is God as breath.  The very air we breathe.  Keeping us alive and enabling us to do all that we do.  There are times when we find ourselves literally gasping for air.  There are other times when the gentle rhythm of breathing can lull us into a spiritual moment: from the sleeping child, to the ‘dying’ breaths of a loved one.  That reminds me of God.  Jesus appeared to his followers and breathed on them, saying, “peace be with you”.  Our breath can teach us about God.

Then one day, musing on these pictures of God, a realisation.  How had I not thought of this before. God is so much bigger, so much more present, than these pictures can portray, because…

God is not only found in water but also in the desert; in the parched places.  In the book of Genesis we find the story of Hagar who runs away to the wilderness where there is no water.  In this place God finds Hagar: sees her, recognises her and sustains her.  In our ‘desert places’ God finds us: sees us; recognises us and sustains us.  He finds us where there is no water to refresh us and gives us what we need.

God is not only found in light but also in darkness.  Darkness is often used as a metaphor for times when God seems absent.  These times can feel ‘dark’: it can be difficult to see the way forward. Things come crashing down on us and we feel alone.  The writer of Psalm 40 describes this as being in a pit. But God is present in this darkness – in the pit: he has not gone anywhere.

And – this is a gut feeling – God is not only found in breath but in the lack of it.  Something in me feels sure that in the literal nothingness of a vacuum we will find the essence of God.  And when our loved one takes their final breath, that is not only the end of something but also a beginning: a step into something new.  God is there in his own absence.

And so these words in Psalm 139 make complete sense:

Where can I go from your spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

And the light become night around me,”

Even the darkness will not be dark to you;

The night will shine like the day,

For darkness is as light to you.

God is everywhere and in everything.  That is what God longs for us to know, so that he can reach out to us and into us.

Then another question; another realisation.

Is God the water? No.  Is he the light or the breath? No.  Is he the desert, the darkness or the nothingness? No, no, no.

All these are metaphor.  They help us to understand and perceive God, yet God is beyond our understanding and our ability to perceive.  We get snatches; we catch glimpses, but God is mystery.  He stays beyond our control; outside of our boxes; free from taglines and soundbites.  Closer to us than we are to ourselves; infinite and infinitesimal; beckoning to us in silence.  Metaphors help but they are not Love.

God is the mystery that holds us, and whose only requirement of us is that we let ourselves be held.

 

Photo by Karolina Kolodziejzczak on Unsplash

 A Poem for Easter

We give thanks for the night,

Because in the night

The seeds of hope were planted.

Whilst we couldn’t see,

You were there,

Accompanying us through pain,

Planting life in the barren places.

We give thanks for the night.

 

Let the morning bring light. 

Light that pours into our eyes

And reaches our souls.

Light that wakens the seeds of hope.

Beckons them to push their way through the soil

And break the surface.

 

Let the morning bring life.

Life that warms and wakens us,

That seeps into our bones

Renews and invigorates.

Life that expands inside us

And lifts our gaze.

 

Let the morning bring love.

Love that reaches out,

Builds bridges and connects.

Embraces.

Love that reaches down

And roots us to the earth.

 

 We give thanks for the night.

But let the morning come.

With its nourishing light;

With its tangling life.

Let love be born in us again,

Because the morning is here.

The morning is here.

 

Musing #4:  Light

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. (Isaiah 9:2)

I have always found these words from Isaiah a comfort and encouragement at Christmas-time.  With all that is going on in the world it very much feels that we are ‘walking in darkness’ and in a ‘land of deep darkness’.  As we move through this week leading up to Christmas, and on into the winter months of the New Year, can we consciously hold on to God’s promise of light?  Can we be alert and looking for the light that is dawning?

And can we consider the other meanings of ‘light’?  Light is the opposite of darkness, but it is also the opposite of ‘heavy’.  Jesus says in Matthew 11: “For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”. God does not want us to be weighed down – by our anxieties and concerns, by the worries of the world, by our possessions, our obligations, by life.  He offers a yoke that is light. When we wear his yoke he enables us to let go of those heavy things.  This reminds me that we are called to a simple life – maybe this is something we can embrace as we move into 2024.

Light is also the opposite of tight.  There are some things that we tend to hold onto too tightly.  It might be our self-image, it might be certain possessions, it might be a way of doing something or a certain belief.  It might even be a loved one.  A familiar song says: if you love someone, set them free.  If love is causing us to hold onto something or someone too tightly, we need to loosen our grip: be willing to change; be willing to share; and sometimes be willing to let go.

Finally, light is the opposite of serious.  We are prone to taking ourselves too seriously.  I honestly think that part of God bringing us light is enabling us to laugh.  And an important part of this is being able to laugh or smile at ourselves.  We all make mistakes, we all mess up – I’m not saying try to do this, but God still loves us exactly how we are, and when we realise this we can lighten up a bit and smile and see the bright side.  Managing to do that will bring light to those we live with and meet during this festive season and in the year ahead.

God brings light in the darkness – let’s live out that light as we move through Christmas and into the New Year.