Dear Friends ~ Purportedly the beginning of something new, a whole breathless yet-to-be-lived year, January is moored in bleak mid-winter. The wonder of Solstice, of Christmas, have faded in the rearview; the promise of Equinox and Easter are far off. January is stuck trying to be something spirited in the gray-sky, sodden-snow middle, the dark borderland between one thing and another.
But hold on. Mystics and poets say that the darker, in-between places are where transformative, sometimes surprising, things happen: thresholds are liminal, vital spaces. In her poem, "Marginal", Maggie Anderson writes, "This is where I live, at the edge of this ploughed field...I prefer it here...This life is not easy, but wings mix up with leaves here...and I can poise myself and hold for a long time, profoundly..." The old god Janus, the month's namesake, was the custodian of transitions and passages, his two faces on an edge, looking to the ancient ways and future possibilities.
Silence is the air of such a place; it's how we breathe in liminal spaces. Jesuit theologian Walter Burghardt described contemplation as a "long, loving look at the real". Inhaling, exhaling in Silence, we know ourselves loved, belonging, wild as all Earth's inhabitants are wild, and holy. Grief mixes up with joy here. Like Janus, we can look around fearlessly; indeed, in all the sacred directions, and know ourselves held, profoundly.
I bring you poets, storytellers, soul criers singing about the "wildness of reaching an edge", as I once heard David Whyte describe it; about how we pray, love, live, and thrive in such a place, in this time. May you take the adventure, plunge into the alchemy, breathe, and be profoundly held in Silence, Love, and Spirit. ~ Lindsay
This is what you are to do: Love God. Go to a quiet place. Calm yourself. And with a gentle stirring of love lift your heart up to God, loving God not for any gifts, but instead, love God for God's sake alone. Sitting thus, do not think about the presence of feelings that God is near. Do not cling to any thought of God, regardless of how sublime the thought might be. Do not pray for anyone or for yourself, regardless of the immensity of the need. Let your love for God alone be your sole concern. Of course, you will make mistakes, for, after all, you do not know what you are doing. You do not know how to life up your heart "with a gentle stirring of love." The very simplicity and radicality of what you are led to do leads you into the obscurity of the contemplative way. But no matter, led by God's promptings you learn (without knowing how) to listen to God's gentle stirrings of love within you. As the gentle stirring is meek, so, too, is your lifting up of it to God. As it is unseen, beyond the reach of your power to comprehend it, so, too, is your lifting up of this stirring. As it is fiery and mighty, so, too, your humble self-offering to God, loving God for God's own sake.