For a Moment You Carry It All

In the spirit of the contemplative retreat that is coming up, this letter has a contemplative character. I invite you to seek for yourself what I am writing about, in a quiet moment outside in nature.

Close to the ground, my eyes closed, I feel the wind on my skin. When I open my eyes, I see the bright green world around me again. The forest is radiant and intimidating at the same time, a new world in its youthful power. I become aware of my privilege. Being able to enjoy abundance and beauty in peace is a freedom not everyone has.

In gratitude I am briefly connected to the ground tone of existence, and I become aware of the presence of a timeless love. Here I may rest for a moment, before picking up my worries again.

Gratitude enlarges my capacity to embrace the world in its raw state. This is the experience of kenosis: emptying myself so that the world, with all its weight, can find a place in my heart. In the book Contemplative Prayer the mystic Thomas Merton writes about this experience. He addresses other monks, but invites everyone to take his words to heart:

’this is an age that, by its very nature as a time of crisis, of revolution, of struggle, calls for the special searching and questioning which are the work of the monk in his meditation and prayer. For the monk searches not only his own heart: he plunges deep into the heart of that world of which he remains a part although he seems to have “left” it. In reality the monk abandons the world only in order to listen more intently to the deepest and most neglected voices that proceed from its inner depth.'

No way back

Within everyone lies the capacity for union. That union gives a sense of coming home and at the same time invites you to take your place in the world. Otherwise you quickly become detached and estranged. To stand in the world in love is a raw, overwhelming experience, because with the light the darkness enters too. For a moment you carry it all, and there are no words for that. But the impression that remains leaves you involved, inspired, and concerned. You begin to carry your part.

Recently, during a workshop, I asked a group to meet nature in gratitude. The mirror of nature often brings us to our greatness most quickly. One person told me that an inspired touch of the earth made her angry. She felt that yielding to the touch would leave no way back. And that is true, because surrender includes the offering of yourself.

Summer invites us to fulfill our role in the world. By carrying your part, you grow up. When you gather the courage to give yourself and accept life in all its raw honesty, clarity about what you are meant to do naturally follows. This is the heart of summer, the season of life in full bloom: give yourself, and everything will be given to you.