"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible,

to speak a few reasonable words." Goethe

Friday, January 13, 2017

Lost in Wonder

                       View from Minaun Heights, Achill Island, County Mayo one special night
                                                © A. Rutherford      See photo notes below 




When we move with poetry and the imagination
when we deal with symbols and images,
we become people who are happy with mystery
and open to discovery.
To deepen the mystery.
to embrace complexity is risky.
We need to have courage
enough to be ready for an unveiling
which can be a startling process.
                           -Rowan Williams



Solitude, silence, beauty, wonder—
these are things that are intangible, ephemeral, ethereal, ineffable really . . .
"soft" things . . . 
yet they can "steel" the soul for when those times come that demand more courage 
than one thinks one has and provide a cushioning, an embrace if you will, that comforts . . . that then allows one in turn to embrace the mystery that is at the heart of life 
in spite of circumstances which would keep one earthbound.
It is important to understand that poetry, art, music, imagination, creativity all are gifts that if accepted help us to transcend the things of this life that hurt, confuse, dismay, disappoint.
These gifts are symbols .  . . they point to the sun that is always shining above the clouds no matter the weather on earth below them.  
Recently there has been a time of heavy weather in my life, but my soul, my spirit, can rise above the clouds to that place where I can dwell in Light . . . at least in my heart and my mind, even if no one else around me knows that in my secret place, God is at work. 
In the Celtic Christian tradition, Celtic saints were peregrini, wanderers.  They set off in their small fragile boats to go wherever the wind of the Spirit might take them, and the goal of their journey was to find "the place of their resurrection," by which they meant their true selves, the resurrected self—the secret self known only to each of us and to God and perhaps to an Anam Cara, the Gaelic term for a soul friend.
They didn't care where they went on their pilgrimage because they were motivated by their love for God, and they undertook their journeys to come closer to Him.  They knew that their true journey toward the precious thing they were searching for was really to be found within themselves.  So the outward journey was a way of expressing the inward journey they were making.  What did one achieve at the end of such a quest?  One achieved stability of soul and gladness of heart despite all circumstances.
At the end of the journey was Joy . . .
Photo Notes:  Achill Island is off the western coast of Ireland, and is one of my favorite spots on earth.  Can you imagine standing atop the third highest elevation on the island late one evening as the sun goes down and suddenly before you the world takes on a transcendent glow?  A scene of magical, breath-taking beauty . . . other-worldly in its aspect.  I didn't think my camera could possibly capture the mystery of the beauty stretching before me, but I was blessed in that it did. 
Psalm 121:1-2 (NLT)
A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem
I look up to the mountains—
   does my help come from there?
My help comes from the Lord,
   who made heaven and earth! 
__________________________________________________  

No comments: