This year I have delighted in solitude. That sounds all spiritual but the reality is I didn't even know what I was doing, I just knew that if I didn't start having some times all by myself that I felt I might lose my ever-loving mind. I felt desperate for regular times that I was not on call for anyone and would not be interrupted by the chai boiling over on the stove or refereeing my children's fights (as I growl to them, "speak with kindness" or a neighbor at the door. Thanks to Carolyn coming and teaching all four of my children 3 mornings a week, I had an unprecedented unscheduled time in my week without my children at home (not to mention all the hours I haven't spent working on homeschooling since she has done that!). I decided to use at least one of those mornings most weeks to hop on my bike and ride to a quiet place to think, pray, journal, read. It is a bonus that we live in the most beautiful place on earth, but that isn't required for this kind of thing.
In her book Spiritual Rhythms Ruth Haley Barton describes what I was sort of doing as a spiritual discipline called Solitude. She says, "I needed to be alone with what was happening inside." I deeply resonate with that. She also says, "Since we're not always sure how to live with our humanness....we try to shove it down rather than attend to it. But it takes energy to repress these aspects of our humanness, and eventually the effort itself wears us out." She exhorts the reader about "how important it is to have time and a space for being with what's real in my life--to celebrate the joys grieve the losses, shed my tears, sit with the questions, feel my anger, attend to my loneliness. This 'being with what is' is not the same thing as problem solving or fixing because not everything can be fixed or solved. Rather it means allowing God to be with me in that place and waiting for Him to do what is needed."
Huh. This is not how I have walked on this planet thus far. Until this year I have mostly tried really really hard to keep myself and my patch of earth together as best I knew how without paying attention to the tremors of emotion or signs that my soul needed some care. If something felt amiss I worked hard to get it running smoothly without investigating too deeply Again from Spiritual Rhythns, "When we don't attend to our vulnerabilities and instead try to repress it all and keep soldiering on, we get weary from holding it in. Eventually it leaks out in ways that are damaging to us and to others." Yup. This was happening, and it still happens some days and I'm learning to notice it.
It is still a bit strange for me to sit with what is, inviting the presence of Jesus to sit with me there. I want to jump to the solving bit, to the asking and brainstorming and problem solving. My thoughts tend to skip around all sorts of places and jump ahead and yet He is there, with me in my scattered thoughts and rabbit trails of grocery lists and emails I've forgotten to write. I find it uncomfortable to just sit with things as they are, not as I so wish they were (did you really think that my life is ALL beautiful bike rides? it's not). This practice is bizarrely calming, and it has awakened me to God with me in my days in a way I haven't known before. Sometimes to make it happen I run out the door before any emails or neighbors or chores restrain me. This morning my kitchen looked like this as I packed my little Magic Stove for a cup of tea on the side of a mountain and half an hour to sit with God with what is true in my life:
It is getting cold in our mountains and soon it will be miserable to sit out on a mountain to sit for long. Freezing will be the overwhelming thing that is true in my life. I want to find another place for this kind of connection. I would love to hear what others have found helpful for the practical application of this. When? Where?
