Who Would I Be Then?
About a week ago, I had a rather unpleasant discovery about myself during my contemplative prayer time. I like to be quiet because I know Presence comes with silence, and sometimes revelation too, and often, understanding slips gently into my consciousness. But best of all, my muse visits with creative ideas and solutions. But on that day, the cauldron of silence revealed an uncomfortable truth: I am addicted to the weight of my responsibilities. Instead of doing what I can to minimize that weight, I clutch to it as a kind of lifeline, which is ridiculous.
Repeatedly, I load up with “to do” lists. And because I am engaged in several time-sucking activities (mostly worthwhile, of course), my world is quite chaotic. I don’t mess around with “shoulds,” I’ve got a boatload of “musts.”
They say, if a person doesn’t effectively manage his or her intense schedule, eventually, the body breaks down and voila, one has an unplanned vacation from duties along with stultifying bedrest. I can attest to that result after my open heart surgery last summer. I could do nothing productive but eat, sleep, and shuffle along in house slippers for weeks.
I lost my identity, my security blanket, my comfort zone. I didn’t realize at the time it was a proffered reset. So, when I found my strength, I merely filled up my calendar once more. It’s all I knew how to do.
But today, the message was brought back to me again when I was reintroduced to the poet, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, in her poem, “Ever Changing.” She wrote:
“If I trusted an ever present peace as much as I trust ever present chaos, who would I be then?”
And that’s the authentic question I have to ask myself about the weight of my human doings.
At my age, it’s no longer reasonable to think this question is like “what do I want to be when I grow up?” That ship has sailed. And really, I’m not sure it’s even about my ongoing dreams of being a prolific author or a mystic or someone’s beloved partner. No, this question reaches into my heart space and into my soul. It’s not a label, but a kind of currency.
One of the group members told the story of a woman who carried peace with her like a cloak, even a bubble, and when she would appear at protests, violence and tempers subsided and calmed. She was simply rooted in serenity. It was wholly her DNA. I can’t help but imagine it was like this to be near the Christ.
The answer, then, is not the absence of chaos, for that will continue, but in the alternate reality of being centered and at peace despite the surroundings. This kind of peace burns from the inside outward. And I believe I am being called to light that flame.
Here’s what I know so far. I won’t be able to put a single match to this internal wick; it’s a process. And the joke? The undertaking is in full swing. I just didn’t know it. I’ve been too busy grinding my teeth over my next writing project, my schedule, my meetings, and so forth. All the while, the flame has been sputtering along, and the voice calling my name.
With a beginner’s mind, I choose to the “open the door” to whatever may come in next. It’s time for a little more oxygen.
