Every moment and every event of every [hu]man's life on earth plants something in [our]his soul.
Welcome to anyone who happens here...we are a few days past solstice and entering the depths of Jewish & Christian religious traditions. May any and all of these events plant soul seeds.
I felt compelled to write tonight on the Eve of Christmas. These words are being composed from the midwest where it has been below zero for several days. The space I moved into last week faces north with a brick wall and several metal window casings - one can feel the chill settle on these surfaces. However, this new space is a blessing. I'm still chasing my desire to live in a treehouse, and while my view is mainly obstructed by a parking garage, I've a sliver of westward sky gracing my vision. Tonight the horizon is pinking with heavy greying-purple clouds, a painting of peace.
Today didn't go as planned...John Lennon always comes to mind when things arise that bust any chance of an itinerary being completed. Merton's words ring true and I've no doubt that today's event left a seed. While I didn't get my hair shaved or visit my brother's house to share a glass of Crown, I did spend some unexpected quality time with my 76 year old father. You see, my car sits idle outside since I bike or use the bus. I'd forgotten about car maintenance in this cold, ergo, this morning I met *click click click* of a dead battery. Thankfully, my father agreed to lend me a hand after determining I needed a new battery. Hours later (long story) we worked together in the bitter cold and got a very expensive chemical energy converter installed under the hood.
[Looking up after finishing the above paragraph, I realize darkness has consumed my space. The sky has a tinge of gold ebbing out the pink as the sun dips below the horizon. Two candles and this laptop illuminate my space while Anonymous Four streams from a small speaker. One candle has a gentle scent of mulled cider..]
One could say from the above description that there as been an attempt to create a sacred space on this Eve. Actually, I've been thinking a lot about sacred spaces and how to foster an environment that welcomes contemplation. Reading Merton is another step in that direction. A recent discovery of Edith Stein's philosophical writings has me in a deep dive about spiritual callings and deep humility. Truth be told, I was hoping to let go of the monastic life I've unconsciously created in the last decade and reengage with the Other before I turned 50, however, Stein and Merton have me questioning life's direction. There is no right answer at this juncture beyond waiting for a seed to sprout.
If you're still reading, dear reader, you'll realize there was no real point to this post. However, I do hope that if you were scrolling because solitude has left your restless tonight, please know that you're never alone. The ancient ritual of storytelling was to help us survive. While we may not need to know where the tiger hides or the path to the nearest water source anymore, I believe we do need the bond of story to remember together our seeds can create something beautiful ~ a