SHINING LIGHT ON DARKNESS

I’ve been caught up in reading the book Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. At first I thought it was going to be a book about how to walk through the trials of life – and in fact gave it to a friend, having never read it, who had been diagnosed with cancer. After skimming through an article in Time Magazine at a doctor’s office, I thought it might be appropriate for her and bought a copy. A practice I don’t really recommend. The book turned out to be not so much about learning to walk through our dark times but, fortunately, a delightful and thought-provoking book about how to reframe metaphorical and accept actual darkness. With the Super Blue Moon about to take place on August 19, reading and blogging about this book seemed serendipitous.

Ms. Brown took a year to study the dark and write about what it could potentially teach us. She dined at a trendy restaurant where real blind servers wait on customers in blindfolds. She spent half a day in a “wild” cave…the kind not open to the public. She walked in the dark to a meadow and waited for the full moon rise. She brought new light to the “darkness” often referred to in scripture, challenging some of the old dualistic ways of thinking. In the end, she concluded that we need as much “endarkenment” as we need enlightenment.

There is something about
the absence of light, AFTER the sun goes down, that has always comforted
me. It is a time of no expectations. Work is done. No one is going to
call or need anything. It feels freeing. When I go outside for my dog’s last circling of the grounds, the dark night feels claustrophobic,
which is also comforting to me.  Her book resonated within me because I have always loved the night more than the morning. I considered myself a “night person” all through high school and college and the first 10 or 15 years of my 32-year marriage. As far back as I can remember, mornings were a struggle. Most fights with my mother were about getting up and getting going. Most of my marriage I always felt a bit guilty staying up late and getting up later than any of the other women I knew. Most “morning people” were complete enigmas to me. How could they possible wake up and bound out of bed, ready to take on the world, or at the very least their daily work? I need more transition time. After all, I was just doing something completely different in my dream as far as my brain and body were concerned.

I had a revelation once that I both hate to go to bed and hate to get out of bed, which can be quite the dilemma. Night people generally don’t get their vision for the day until sometime in the afternoon. It’s when the creative juices begin to flow, ideas come, energy increases…then it’s time to make dinner. Damn! This is probably why night people have not taken over the world. And once night people are in bed, that’s where they want to stay. My motto has always been:

“I don’t want to get up until I’m bored with lying down.”

I guess I enjoy my Theta and Alpha waves; those slower, more calming and creative brain waves we experience as we drift from deep sleep (delta waves) to being fully awake (Beta waves). In her book Ms. Taylor shares a theory that proposes humans were never meant to sleep continuously through the night. The author theorizes that since the invention of artificial light, we stay up later (after it gets dark) and so our bodies need longer, deeper sleep, but it was not always this way. He believes that humans used to sleep for a sleep cycle, wake slowly, and then remain in that dreamy, sub-conscious state, when creative and spiritual thoughts were allowed to incubate for longer periods of time before entering a new sleep cycle. Now, when we wake in the middle of the night, we head for the medicine cabinet and don’t necessarily see it as something to embrace. But maybe we should.

One evening last week I decided follow Ms. Taylor’s lead and take a walk in the dark up our long gravel drive to view the night sky from the top. My German Shepherd, Cyon, well-equipped to maneuver without hesitation, trotted ahead of me until I couldn’t see her at all, coming back only to check on me now and then. I took a flashlight, purposing not to use it, unless I heard rustling in the bushes or up in the trees.  I failed miserably at this intention. 

At first I took my time, in order to both alleviate the only fear I had…falling…as well as let my eyes fully dilate to take in the light from the stars. But the further I got from the house, with its glowing windows and porch light, the darker it got and the more fearful I became of a 90-degree ankle turn or a full-fledged face plant. So the flashlight kept coming on just to see the condition of the rough road for the next few yards, then back off again. It wasn’t until I got to the top of the drive, overlooking the black fields and the shadows of distant hills, that I was able to spend time with the embracing darkness and the 200 billion stars of the Milky Way.

"Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you."                

-Psalm 139:12

And this was one of her points...if darkness is as light...then both are Divine. She even goes so far as to say that, according to the Bible, God dwelt in darkness before light was even created, challenging our notion that darkness is bad and only light is good. And that maybe our negative perspectives of darkness have been learned.

While I stood there letting my eyes adjust, I kept thinking about all the nocturnal animals out in that opaqueness, some of them probably staring at me at that very moment. How much better their eyes are designed to see what remains cloaked for us. How much better their ability to hear and smell, embellishing night time instincts of hunting, caring for their young, or finding a mate. The darkness is almost as light to them, too. So much happens outside after we turn the last light off inside.

A few nights later I woke up and looked over at the bedroom window to see what tint of daylight was seeping through the curtain. When I saw none, I checked the clock, which, from my perspective, warned me in red lights that it was only 5:00 in the morning! Then I wrestled with a foreign idea: What if I got up right now and went outside? 

What?! But I’m very comfortable right where I am and still pretty groggy, I internally protested. 

What would Barbara do, I asked myself?  She would attend this fleeting darkness and be a guest of the sunrise.

Twenty-minutes later on the back deck, wrapped in a fleece blanket and sipping hot tea in the dark, I heard, for the first time in the morning, the Whipp-por-will singing his heart out. Way past breeding season, I wondered if he was now just praising the darkness of the night, or the coming light. 

The next new moon, when its reflected light is most dim, is September 2, 2024.

A DAY OF QUESTIONING

In the
New Testament it is recorded that Jesus
asked over 170 questions to those he came in contact with.  Conversely, it is documented that Jesus was asked 183 questions…only 3 of
which he answered directly!  An interesting observation, especially in this day of bombastic religious leaders telling their flocks what to believe from top to bottom.  Many questions Jesus “answered” with another question. 
Obviously, he knew what it has taken therapists and spiritual
directors centuries to learn – that asking questions is more effective at getting
to the real answers than merely telling someone what to think or do. 

 One of
my favorite quotes is from Blaise Pascall, a 17^th Century
mathematician, philosopher and physicist:

All (wo)men's miseries derive

from not being able to sit

in a quiet room alone. 

 

So that's what a small group of souljourneying women did this past weekend...asked and answered some of those same questions Jesus put forth to those he encountered.  Questions like, "What are you thinking in your hearts?" and "Did not the Maker of the outside also make the inside?" - dealing with our tendency to care more about the externals rather than live as integrated, whole people.

One of my greatest joys, and my calling, is to provide that kind of solitude for women. My prayer is that through the stillness, the Spirit will bring healing, God will confirm the desires of their hearts and they will claim their true callings in order to transform the world.



As they sat down (in the quiet outdoors) with 5 questions, they took the time needed to peel back the layers of our
minds and hearts. Below are a few suggestions I gave them to
help begin and follow through with the questions.  It is a powerful exercise to sit with a list of meaningful questions...and hold them in your heart until answers come.

1. Before answering each question, begin by reciting to God the centering prayer you created for a few minutes. Try keeping your eyes open…


2. Sit in at least two different places as you answer the five questions to give yourself a change of perspective.


3. Start the process for each question by doing 5 minutes of free-writing. Write whatever comes to your mind, without regard for spelling, grammar and topic and without stopping or taking pen off paper.


4. As thoughts come to you, continue to ask yourself more questions. Use the old Who, What, When, Where and Why prompts to expand the thoughts you have.

HOLY GROUND

We struck a bargain this past spring, or rather,
I struck a bargain with you, when you left the
newly-planted mountain laurel gnarly and leafless

and stripped small oaks of their budding futures. 

You will eat the dirty, orange persimmons
that fell from the lichen-covered tree on the hill. 

Though we gathered only four all season to
taste of their pungent flesh, we did not mind.

You will eat the bruised and misshapen apples from

further up the hill, too full of  blackberry canes to

make the climb worth it. If you can glean them from
the abundant thicket, we are happy to share.

You will walk the mowed paths through the prairie,

and bed down at the edge under the spreading pines.

You will drink undisturbed from the pond, lick the salt

and lay hidden in the big bluestem under the evening sun.

Then, after the fall equinox and first full moon, the terms.

We will stand over your strong body and graceful eyes,

give thanks to you and the Sustainer, knowing the ground

we stand on, blood-soaked and bargained for, is holy.

Cindy Steffen
November 2011

SUMMER RETREAT

ECOntemplation
July 20-21, 2012

Creative and spiritual discoveries in journal writing, collaging, art and
contemplation in the new re-purposed shed, Kavanah, or on the Prayer Path

"What is going on in your innermost being

is worthy of your whole love"
 

-Ranier Maria Rilke    

As many of you know through the Facebook naming contest, we recently re-purposed an old shed on the property of Prairie Pond Woods. The new
name, Kavanah , means "the focus, intent and direction of the heart."  Our
hope is that as you sit in quietness, listening to the birds and
watching the butterflies on milkweed, your heart might be stilled enough
to pay attention to your innermost being and hear the voice of the
Spirit speak to you personally.  Perhaps God might even "re-purpose" your life there.


During this Summer Retreat, there will be plenty of time to experience solitude at Kavanah...or the swing in the Pine Sanctuary...or the Adirondacks in the Woodland Cathedral.  Participants are encouraged to bring a journal
for writing down thoughts, prayers or drawings from prompts that will
be given. We'll spend a few hours doing collage...a great way to have
fun, relax and perhaps discover something new within your soul.  An
easel will also be set up in Kavanah for some fun group artistic expression!

So, gather some of your dearest friends and take a
road trip this summer to southern Ohio.  As it is written in the guest
book over and over..."I never knew how much I needed this until I got here."     

Note
that there are two options for this retreat - a One-day and an Overnight.
Friday evening will be a casual time to unwind with fellowship under the
stars, a creative activity and simple snacks. We may even venture out for a
night hike...

Contact cindy@heartbynature.com for more info or to register
as an individual or group.

One-day - Saturday 10 am - 5 pm -$45.00 pp (5 max)
Overnight- Friday 7pm - Saturday 4/5pm-$75.00 pp (5 max)
Registration limited to 10
Deposit Deadline:July 4th (easy to remember!)

FALL SABBATICAL-WEDNESDAY

This morning I again settled in with a cup of tea on the front porch to watch the rain and let my mind focus on God.  Mist, like soft organza, inched its way up from between the jagged hills to return to the solid white sky, where drizzle originated unseen.

The blue spruce next to me seemed to be a stop-over for all the birds that call my home, their home.  A flock of white-throated sparrows hopped in the branches for awhile, then moved on.  Several cardinals, among other species, passed through, too.  But one lone mockingbird remained, dominating the air waves with a strange, singular screech.  Maybe this was one of a pair of mockingbirds that nested in the tree in spring, so close to the edge you could see them from the porch swing bringing in nesting materials.  By early June they were prematurely gone, no eggs no nestlings or at least none that survived.  A mystery.

 

During this time of contemplation, I've been reading through a book called, The Still Point, which has short, weekly readings for meditation - an opening prayer, several scriptures, excerpts from books, some poetry and a closing prayer.  The authors range from contemporary to 18th and 19th century, all the way back to the desert mothers and fathers and the "saints of old."  I'm finding it a lovely way to start my day.

One of the scriptures for this week was Psalm 84, whose writer also notices the birds at the Temple and writes about them, saying how blessed they are to live and sing in God's house.  That is how I felt this morning - blessed beyond measure to be in this temple of Creation, listening to the birds, the rain, the drip of water into the watering can under a leak in the porch roof.  Feeling also a little bit like that lone Mockingbird, calling out to the others to just be still, stop moving, stop striving, abide. Sometimes it can be a lonely calling.  But the Psalmist also writes:

 "I would rather be a doorkeeper in your courts,

than to take my fate upon myself" 

And I think about how long it took me to get here - how long, and how many prayers it takes to get to contentment.  To finally see the forest for the trees.  As I rose out of the chair to warm my tea up, a phrase popped into my head out of nowhere.  This is often how God speaks to me and the deep thought for today was this:

"There are no answered prayers...there are only unfoldings."

I heartily agreed, thinking about my own journey and how answers to the big questions were often only there in retrospect. How when we cried out for one thing or struggled with God over another, God was at work, changing us, so that looking back we can see how the life we needed to grow, transform and heal, unfolded. That was true for me on this particular morning at least, as I thought about a hope realized, my eyes filling with mist and my heart filling with gratitude. 

FALL SABBATICAL-TUESDAY

I'm a day behind, due to technically slow difficulties using dial-up, but it gives me the time to reflect on the whole day before I post. Tuesday was a day of both relaxation and work.  Sunday, I decided on a schedule to keep each day, so that there is some time "scheduled" for quiet contemplation, some for productivity and some for creativity.  Tuesday's work revealed my age and lack of any real physical work in my life.  I cleared the trail for the upcoming retreat of hanging branches and fallen logs, stacking brush piles up along the way for wildlife refuges (refugia).  All that reaching and lopping and bending and hauling...left me a bit sore by evening.  But it is good work, and does a body good.

What I noticed while up on the prairie ridge section was a wonderful population of black, shingle and white oak saplings coming up.  Many of the saplings were so short, while their leaves were huge, often longer than the trunk, which I found amusing.  I'll be dead before any of them reach the size of the neighbor's mother trees that tossed their acorns over the fence for squirrels to unwittingly plant. But it does my heart good to know they will be there long after I am gone for someone else, and the wildlife, to enjoy.

After work, I wrote a poem from my morning meditation on the porch, as I listened to the birds and drank Lemon Zinger tea.  It's a poem I will probably continue to work on...but that may take a while...so I'll share it with you in this form.  Let me know what you think.  Enjoy your day. 

October Morning

The Eastern Towhee sings his 2-syllable chirp

in the blue spruce next to me on the deck,

the sleepy, gray dawn slowly brightens, then

suddenly sparks, igniting quiet into cacophonies

I hear each bird’s rhythm – 4 caws from the crow

5 quick buzzes from the titmouse, never ending

screeches from a blue jay, 2 electric songs from

bluebirds perched on a wire, 1 toy-squeak

from a flicker – calling to the world, each other,

to God, that their life matters

Would that we should wake up each morning and

scream for hours from our porches - who we are,

our intentions, the names of our loved ones and

ours, if God re-named us, like the Sons of Thunder

At almost 8:30 the measured calls start to wane

Sounds of the human day begin–a chained dog barks,

cars chase each down their appointed routes,

in the distance there is the growl of machinery

I’ll come back at 4:30 when the day’s chores

Are behind me to listen  again to their

chattering in the trees, as they store up seeds

at the feeder for the long, chilly night ahead

Their voice, my voice, your voice fills the world

FALL SABBATICAL 2011

Monday began my week-long fall sabbatical for the year.  I try to take an extended time of solitude at Prairie Pond Woods at least twice a year in the spring and fall. I do it for two reasons; one, so that I can de-stress, write, enjoy nature, commune with God and find my heart’s desire again (like Dorothy’s journey to Oz).  The second reason is to encourage others to do the same.  I’m convinced people need, and deep down want, time to be alone, to ask themselves the genuinely important questions and to soak in the inspiration from the wonder and beauty of nature.  Our society just simply doesn’t honor these endeavors.  Not flashy enough!  Too self-indulgent!  Too scary, maybe?  

There are only a handful of people in my circle of friends and acquaintances that I know of who take intentional time away from their lives…not to go on vacation (which is also important)…but to go somewhere lovely (or a hotel if that’s all you got) to focus on their inner life and listen to what God might be quietly saying within the sound of silence. 

 

So, for inspiration, this week I’ll be posting my sabbatical experiences.  I realize most people can’t take an entire week off of work or running a household to do this.  But I’m equally convinced most folks could take a weekend or a day, if we value and plan for it.  At the end of this week, Heart By Nature is facilitating a retreat on how to simplify life, clarify values we hold in our hearts and plan a year (literally on a calendar!) that will yield the most fruit and peace.  I call it a “Personal Phenology,” phenology being the study of what happens, where and when in the natural world.  It is a principle that can be applied to our own goals, rhythms and circumstances.

I hope you will visit here during the week to catch a vision for what one can experience when there is no TV, high-speed internet, phone calls, obligations or people (even the little ones you love so much) talking at you all day. Perhaps sharing thoughts that came while walking The Refresher Course, or insights from a half-hour of listening prayer or photos from the 27-acres here at Prairie Pond Woods will encourage you to approach the new year differently…with more intention and more time spent living the call of God in your life.



Sincerely,

 

Cindy

A PSALM

I am happy to be in this place, 

loosened from the chains of rigid thinking 

and set free into the large, looming mystery of God.  

I am happy to have struggled so hard

to get to this place of healing, and for so long.  

I know now that the struggles are not in vain 

and that, in fact, mold me 

to a more compassionate self.  

Jesus, you did not come to this world 

to heal those who are well, 

but to those who are sick. 

Because the sick cannot, 

by the very nature of their sickness, 

take care of themselves.  

Because the depressed cannot,

by the very nature of their depression,

pull themselves up by their bootstraps.  

Because the poor,

by the very nature of their poverty,

have few options in a world that shuns them.

I am none of these at present.  

But I have been very sick at times, 

and walked with a friend through an illness

that lead to death...our prayers useless.  

I have been depressed many times, 

feeling a sadness and self-loathing 

that none who cared for me could ever understand.  

And I have felt trapped by low-income, 

and wondered how those who begin with deficits I did not-

born into poverty, ignorance and cultural hopelessness 

-ever overcome it all.

But mostly I have been molded by the struggle 

against feeling unworthy to God, 

planted there at an early age by authorities in my life 

who did not understand the nature of perfect love either.  

This lie, sometimes conscious, most times unconscious, 

bore within my soul a desperate longing, 

a sad and dark view, often unable to see light,

and left me impoverished of joy.

I praise God who did not leave my side in the struggle.  

Who sent me friends and teachers and books,

and movies and songs 

and allowed me to set aside 

all the groups and doctrines and beliefs for a time, 

so that in the end I could embrace the true Word 

and walk, Spirit hovering, down a narrow path of healing.  

Make me an instrument of your Peace...

Amen