In the twilight
October 29, 2007 at 16:08 OK, I'll admit it. I’m feeling depressed, down, emotionally and physically flattened, uninspired. No, not a full blown “dark night of the soul,” more of a dusky twilight in my brain.
I have a lot on my mind—issues related to my home life, my future, and my past. There’s so much I’m trying to make sense of on a lot of levels. Soul gardening isn’t easy. It’s often exhausting. I have to remind myself to be patient, to wait for clarity, to be in the moment and tend the life I have now.
Sunday, I didn’t want to go to church. Every fiber of my being was longing to stay in my bathrobe and curl up on the couch—but I went to church anyway, yawning all the way and praying the meds I took wouldn’t send me into a complete stupor and make me fall asleep mid-service.
Father Mark made getting off the sofa worth the effort. A new priest at our Episcopal church, I’ve only heard him preach a few times but he always impresses me. His sermons don’t circle a topic endlessly but go right to the heart of it. He dissects the truth with finesse and lays out his points elegantly.
On Sunday he was preaching on the righteous Pharisee and the sinful tax collector. He deconstructed two theological approaches to conversion and grace, one put forth by John Calvin and the other by Thomas Aquinas. He described how the Calvinist position made it easy to fall into and justify a dangerous sense of self-righteousness that could undermine the Gospel's inclusive message. St. Thomas's teaching that we are "converted" gradually as God's grace works to perfect, not replace, our given nature emphasizes the process of growing into faith and holiness over time. Seeing as I consider myself very much a work in process, Mark's words and St. Thomas' wisdom struck a chord in my weary heart, and I carried them out of church with me, feeling encouraged, feeling that the sermon was meant just for me.
Often when I feel emotionally unsettled (as I do now), I have the urge to declutter the house, as if by shedding my material load I can lighten the mental burdens I’m carrying. Over the past few weeks I’ve been sorting through boxes, cupboards, drawers, and storage areas, amassing stacks of things in the basement to get rid of.
E dropped off an entire trunk load of clothes at a church last month. We donated boxes and boxes of books to a fundraising sale. Di’s granddaughter, Sahara, received some toys and books on tape, but still the piles in the basement continued to grow, making me feel smothered.
On Sunday, the sun was shining and there was a soccer game at the community center down the street generating lots of traffic in the neighborhood. I decided to put things out on the sidewalk in a massive give away pile and see if we’d get any takers. I didn’t want to hassle with a garage sale or hauling things to consignment shops;I just wanted to be free of the weight of this stuff.
Christmas wreaths, Easter baskets, folding chairs, tons of Tupperware, Pampered Chef kitchen gadgets, mixing bowls, vegetable steamers, sippy cups, travel mugs, glasses, pitchers, tote bags, leather purses, serving platters, decorative art, tapered candles, cast iron cookware, a bicycle, dolls and stuffed animals—I toted them all out the garage door and set them up on display on the stone wall in front of my house.
The items had been out for all of five minutes when two Gypsies showed up in a van and started loading it all up—the same two who had come by last winter. The timing was almost mystical. I was astonished. I hadn't seen them since last December.
In no time, everything but three Easter baskets had been loaded into their van and driven off, probably to be sold this week at a flea market somewhere. The “transaction,” such as it was, was oddly satisfying.
Once again I had a vision of life as a wheel, of people cycling in and out of my path in some sort of cosmic rhythm, a sense of being in the right place at the right time, of God quietly providing what I need and helping me let go of what I don’t. Often the best way to find grace is to step aside and let it find you.
October 29, 2007
Reader Comments (16)
"St. Thomas's teaching that we are "converted" gradually as God's grace works to perfect, not replace, our given nature emphasizes the process of growing into faith and holiness over time."--
-- I cling to this wisdom. Yes I do.
Too much to say. I just send love and to let you know I am thinking of you. ;)
ox :)
Can you come?
I'm afraid if I come to Ohio there will be very little decluttering done and one large dent left in your sofa at the end of the weekend.
But we could talk about decluttering and drink and be snarky and eat Lays and drive the men from the house using secret Grrrl powers.
Doesn't work.
Like Anne Lammott says.."Grace, Eventually"
I'm right there in the garden with you...but I think I'm stuck in the muck a bit more..
.
All the best to you V, you are good people and deserve peace to that noggin. Kudos to you for taking some steps in to get you there.
I often wished I was.
Imagine, sitting at Antwerp's most 'uplifting' suspended champagne lounge today, (http://www.flickr.com/photos/62373078@N00/1741397213/ )
wondering how to get myself back on track.
While the glass of Laurent Perrier made today somewhat fade away, faith can be that guiding beam of light in the dark, and I often wished it would touch me.
Sigh. I love having commenters that use words like "dysphoria." (She swoons, then moves on to more serious topics...)
Many of my friends would say they are not people of faith--but I see the light they shine in the world and know that they have a relationship with the Divine. Their hearts and souls are open to the world and not pinched shut against it. That to me, is a sign of faith. It doesn't need a label or a doctrine to be real or meaningful or be shared.
Your last sentence says it all though. Beautiful.
There's something satisfying and stress releasing about tackling a smart-ass lawyer who smaller than you and pushing his head into the mud because he won't release the ball.My own running with ball, while crude and graceless makes me feel invinceable until I too get crunched.
It's even better when it's raining, foggy, or cold from the wind coming off the San Francisco Bay. A beer(s), some Advil, and a hot shower usually completes my mood altering pasttime.
Of course, I have to sneak in my rugby therapy without the home boss knowing about it these days. Forget tea, church, and EMO music. A good run in the mud works better.
Rolling in the mud with a hot rugby player (over 40, of course) does sound quite appealing, especially if he's NOT a freakin lawyer and is suitably hairy and not one of those waxed Ken dolls with six-pack abs that PRETEND to be real men. Ahem.
And this is Belgium--rain, fog, wind, and beer are our specialties. If only we had Mexican food....
Peter--I want to go to that bar! And, V is so right about faith. It's obvious you are a warm, caring person who is generous and reaches out to others--that says it all I think! Professed people of faith often espouse the WWJD philosophy ... that is certainly what you are living.
Daylight Savings Time ends here on Sunday ... that's usually when I have a tougher time with melancholy (yet another word that fits the bill)... I need maximum daylight. I appreciate the new time plan that is being phased in here in the U.S. I definitely like transitioning from DST later and later each fall and then going to DST earlier in the spring.
I used to plan for 50-60 trick or treaters at my house... and daylight savings time kicked in Saturday night after Di's party. I'm now 7 hours ahead of my friends on the East Coast, but I'm dragging. Time to buy a light box...