One sunny fall morning, a friend and I shared coffee and conversation in an old city park. It’s become a favorite rendezvous. Covid-conscious, neither of us is keen on eating inside. Besides, the park was aflame with color: Maples showing orange and red. Ginkos glowing yellow in the sunlight. Majestic ash and elms flaunting their grand canopies for all to see.
In such a beautiful setting, one might expect lofty thoughts and happy moods. But I was having none of that. I wasn’t dismal, just disconnected. I was tempted to blame my floundering on a three-week vacation, but really, I was adrift before that. If anything, vacation helped me relax and connect with my center, opening me to meet to each day without an agenda, welcoming whatever came: Visits with two of my daughters out east, great food, and long conversations, country walks sandwiched between hurricane Ian’s lingering rains, wanders along the beach, and a little drawing and painting.
Back home, re-entry was difficult. I’ve lived alone for eleven years, but after three weeks in the delightful company of others, I felt lonely. I watched too much TV and ate way too much, wiping out months’ of hard-won weight loss. Settling back into writing routines just didn’t happen. Not much luck with prayer practices or journaling either.
All in all, I felt a mess.
My friend is a good listener. After the rambling “confession” of my failures, we grew quiet and sipped coffee. The air was chill, and I cradled the mug in my hands, grateful that he had brewed coffee and carried it in proper mugs from his home across the street. Hot drinks in styrofoam are way less comforting.
“We’re all in a mess, one way or another,” he volunteered.
“True.”
I thought of Sharon Salzberg, a renowned Buddhist meditation teacher in the West. One of her “On Being Project” interviews with Krista Tippett was titled, “The Healing Is In The Return.” She talked about starting meditation and her mistaken ideas of what it was and how it worked. She thought that each day she would be able to sit longer with a quiet mind. It would accumulate until she reached her goal of long, still, meditative sits. She discovered that wasn’t the point at all:
“… learning how to let go more gracefully was the point. Learning how to start over with some compassion for yourself instead of judging yourself so harshly—that was the point. … It’s still the most significant thing I’ve ever learned from meditation and that I use it every single day, because we do. We must start over and do a course correction, or pick ourselves up if we’ve fallen down, every day.”
In thirty-plus years of meeting with my spiritual director, I have heard her recommend self-compassion more times than I can count. Why is it difficult to practice?
Instead, it’s easier to listen to my inner critic picking on all the things I haven’t done or have done poorly, the stuff I did that I didn’t want to do, like buying chocolate and eating it all at once instead of a piece a day as I told myself I would.
“Good thing God’s in the mess,” I offered.
Isn’t that point of incarnation? The Holy One being with us wherever we are? However we are? Jesus liked to be in the mess, and he liked the people who were in them. He hung out with the marginalized, exasperated the righteous religious leaders by ignoring their pious rules, and got into trouble speaking the truth.
I love Eugene Peterson’s translation in The Message of Jesus quoting Isaiah in Matthew, “I prefer a flexible heart to an inflexible ritual.”
Jesus got it. Being a human being isn’t easy. Growing into one’s true self isn’t a linear journey. Lots of stops and starts, fear and love, failures and successes circle around over and over. As Mother Teresa said, “We are not called to be successful, but faithful.”
Salzberg learned that as she embraced meditation. The point is getting up again. Forgiving yourself and showing yourself the same compassion that you show to others.
That’s what I’m learning too. Again. When I blow my efforts to eat better, eat less, and lose weight. When I stay up way too late, even though I’m a natural night-owl. When I binge TV instead of reading the books I want to read. When I don’t journal or draw or paint or engage in prayer practices that bear fruit. Basically, when I’m in a mess and am discouraged—and how often it that?—I need to have faith in God-with-me and start fresh. Like the next blank page in my journal.
This is part of perennial wisdom tradition, a great river that feeds all wisdom traditions from ancient times. Jewish, Christian, Buddhist. All of them, religious or not. It shows up in holy books, literature, embroidery on pillows, and prints on magnets. Here are a few examples:
In Pirke Avot: The Sayings of the Fathers, a collection of ancient Rabbinic texts, there is a short saying that points to the importance of not giving up: “You are not required to finish your work, yet neither are you permitted to desist from it.”
Buddhist author and teacher, Pema Chodron has a book titled Start Where You Are. Author Lucy Maud Montgomery, in Anne of Green Gables, writes, “Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it.” It’s possible to let go one day’s disappointments and have enthusiasm for the day to come.
I find strength and hope in knowing that I don’t tackle tomorrow on my own but can draw on the transforming Love and Presence within. Of all the words on this topic, I gravitate to these, most often attributed to Saint Benedict:
Always, we begin again.
Thanks Mary. It feels like I’ve been in this spot all of covid. I am an introvert but I have missed the deep in person connections. And I’ve found that this is where I get the sacred energy connection I need to do the art and writing. You remind me there is deep within me the energy and the sacred connection. Again, thank you.
Ellen, it’s good to hear from you. Covid has changed life for many of us. I, too, need silence, but I also need interaction with others. As you say, it feeds the soul. Remembering that there is a deep-down sacred presence helps. But sometimes connecting with it is difficult. Blessings on your journey. And thanks for sharing.
Ya know what? Routine comforts and directs me. I make myself walk 45 minutes each day at a brisk pace. I pour a half gallon pitcher of water every morning and leave it on the counter to force me to drink it in its entirety by about 6 pm because I don’t really feel thirsty often and the water is good for me. I don’t allow myself a glass of wine til I have finished my water requirement. Little tricks like that to keep me on track and keep me fit and keep off the weight. If I fall off the walking I start gaining. Not a lecture. Just a reminder that self discipline is hard for all of us. Hugs to you.
You are right, Nancy. Routines are helpful. Thanks for writing and sharing some of yours.
Oh Mary, this really spoke to me. I think it’s a part of life to feel disconnected for a while, especially after such a holiday as you had. It’s like waking up and being fuzzy, not quite knowing where you are or what you are meant to be. Give it some time and the fuzziness will clear.
I can so identify with the watching too much tv and eating too much. I am doing the same and I don’t know why. I am living alone for the first time in my life and loving it. I am not lonely. I think both overeating and watching tv are a way of filling an empty space yet I who am happy am still doing it. I want to read more but when I turn off the tv and settle down with a book, it’s a sign of comfort to me and I want a coffee and something to accompany it! Not sure why or what is going on for me. May we both rest in the knowledge that we are loved and that God will reveal our next step. Yes, I’m happy but not yet fulfilled. I believe a new phase is coming. For you too?
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and insights, Olga. Especially the reminder that we all are loved, and that our next steps will become clear.
Mary, I honor your transparency in sharing ‘down times’ with which I can certainly resonate. You’ve quoted quality resources reminding us that “this too, shall pass” and each day/ each moment is a new beginning.
With appreciation, Jini Hushak
You’re welcome, Jini. Thanks for taking the time to comment!
Not only is tomorrow a new day, but each NOW is a chance to forgive and carry on.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Linda. Your insight is good to remember. Life is always “in progress.”
Thank you, Mary, for your frank and captivating reflections. Lately I find myself over-planning my mornings and/or afternoons, then becoming annoyed with myself for not getting everything done. I need to remember that some challenges (i.e., crosses) in my life are not going to change and that life consists of more than just checking off completed tasks. I crave the serenity, courage, and wisdom featured in Reinhold Niebuhr’s well-known prayer – and enough faith to keep getting up time after time.
Thanks, Ray, for reminding me that “life consists of more than just checking off completed tasks.” Our culture encourages us to judge ourselves, others, and even the value of our lives by what tasks we have accomplished or what we have produced. Not much is said about being love and peace in the world, or growing into the person we have been created to be. May we be blessed with the courage, faith, and wisdom featured in Niebuhr’s prayer.
Mary, we had way too short of a visit when back in Ohio at the end of summer. I can’t tell you how much I miss our cozy apartment above you. You were the best neighbor and I wish we could share a cup of tea and some quiet conversation. Not sure how it came about, but after being vaxxed and boosted, i managed to come down with Covid and while no longer testing positive, thanks to the anti-virus drug Paxlovid, I’m still not feeling “normal” and a cough lingers. Your columns always bring me some comfort and I hope you will feel up to continuing to publish. Long distance hugs, Karen
Thanks for writing, Karen. I’m glad you enjoy the columns. I’m sorry to hear about your Covid. Hope you’re recovered in time for Thanksgiving!
A lot of gems here. At 93, the one I needed most in life was: learn to be forgiving of yourself.
Thanks for writing, Wilfred. How often it is difficult to forgive ourselves. At 93, it’s good for you to remember all the good you have shared with others. Me included!
Mary, thanks for persevering, this column really spoke to me. Sharing as you did, helped me to remember not everyday is perfect or nearly perfect and its ok to have have days in which I feel disconnected; days when my inner critic is much louder than my gentle, comforting thoughts. I appreciate your reminder “God’s in the mess.” She is there as I work to be loving and kind to my self and reconnect with the world in a way that feeds me and blesses me.
Thank you for your insights. Linda
You’re welcome, Linda. Glad the column spoke to you. How true that there are days that don’t go as we hope or that are filled with voices from our inner critic. Thanks for writing and sharing your thoughts.
Thank you for your wisdom and sharing the real things of our journey.
You are welcome, Mary Ellen. Thanks for writing.