Gentle Departure

Sunset over Lake ChamplainIt’s very easy to get heavily focused on preparing for a season, a holiday, a holy time. There is a way in which a lot of U.S. culture is built on both anticipation and desire. For a lot of us who still make our way through secular life as a part of our journey, we can find ourselves pulled in many directions. Parts of us scoff at the roll-out of seasonal decorations in retail outlets. Other parts of us begin to experience anxiety and angst as social preparation for special days and holy seasons call to mind navigating challenging or hurtful relationships with family, religious communities, co-workers, and even our own shortcomings.

There can be pressure to conform to social, religious, familial, or even self-imposed keeping of time that takes us out of the moment and sends us fearfully into memory, or anxiously into the near future with deep ambivalence as one season year draws to a close and another begins. We can spend more time being distressed by the “happiest time of year” than actually experiencing the glimpses of pure joy that can be found in the midst of all the sparkle.

When the holidays are more joyful than stressful, and we get to rest in the deep assurance of holy time, we’re confronted with a new challenge. How do I let go of this time and settle into the new and miraculous moment that is before me?

Interestingly, there does seem to be a lot of reflective activity in this part of the year, from year-end lists, to year-in-review synopses, to resolutions and re-dedication to a sexier, smarter, thinner, more well-read, wealthier, and more accomplished version of ourselves. What seems lacking in this moment is a an opportunity to bear witness and to engage with what is actually happening from the stillness of a contemplative head and heart space.

Each iteration of the special time, from the parties and feasts, to the solemn and sacred moments, was a gift in itself. Likewise, each moment of bidding goodbye to that special time, and gently giving thanks and savoring it is a gift as well. Because of the way the calendar fell this year, instead of the luxury of a Second Sunday of Christmas and a lush standalone celebration of the Epiphany, instead we had a twelfth night on a Friday, a feast day on a Saturday, and another feast on Sunday that marks the entry into “ordinary time” the weeks of prayer and practice that aren’t part of a special season.

In some ways though, it made this triple purpose weekend a perfect opportunity to engage in the practice of the mindful goodbye. To be thankful for what Christmas and the twelve days that followed had given in memories, relational moments, special encounters with wonder, and the joy of soaking up the soft glow of twinkling lights during a quiet night at home.

I found myself less focused on the “must do” and the “if only” of the time and space, and abiding in the happy little gifts of the holy time. Even in turning off those very twinkling lights and putting away decorations, ornaments, and nativities, I could feel myself both honoring the time and the experience. Thoughtfully putting everything away so that it will be ready to serve it’s purpose later this very year was a way of being present to both the sadness of the ending of a special time, and the awareness of the inestimable gift of the next day, hour, minute, second.

In lieu of resolutions, I’m spending my evening pondering a word that can shape my spiritual and personal practice, and help me as I ponder the mystery of the Divine. You can have a word picked for you too, there are plenty of tools out there like this one.

I believe that at the core of our practice is simultaneous unfolding of both “who we are” and “how we are” in the light of Divine Wisdom. These can often be much more challenging to sit with than “what else shall I do?” or “how can I become someone else?” As if there was some requirement for us to become something other than who we are in order to be the instance of incarnation that we are called to be.

Tomorrow there will be time to set up quieter candles and soft glowing stars to bear witness to this time we are entering. In the meantime, I’m staying present with the thoughts, feelings, and sensations of a gentle, thankful, and loving farewell for now.

Exercise

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef