What defines us? Is it our achievements or failures in either the past or future, or is it something infinitely more?
Perhaps it is the power we have within ourselves to persevere, to make the best of a bad situation, to look to comfort others even as we stumble. Perhaps it is our ability to learn in the midst of failure, to hope in the midst of defeat, and to love when surrounded by hate. Perhaps this, the indefatigable human spirit, is our greatest strength.
Do not despair. Do not lose hope. The dark of night will pass, and the sun will shine again.
Consider the birds. They have so much to teach us. They sing; they fly; they soar. When the storm is over, they come out and sing, fly, and soar again. They vary dramatically from the tiny hummingbird to the great bald eagle, but they have so much in common. And, when we are quiet, they remind us to look up, to look to the future and the possibility that lies there. It turns out considering the birds is good for our well-being, keeping depression at bay.
Be still and notice the birds. Do you see the vulture with its huge wings soaring above you? Do you hear the hawk shriek? Do you see the crows tuck in their wings and dive to open them again and rise only after you gasp, worried?
Watch them bathe in a puddle, delighting in the way the water splashes around them. Listen to them sing.
They sing for you.
We begin the year with hope. Hope for peace; hope for good health; hope for reconciliation and redemption; hope for progress on our journeys and throughout the world. Emily Dickinson’s poem is a lovely metaphor to return to when drawing on this hope to get us through rough days:
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –That perches in the soul –And sings the tune without the words –And never stops – at all –And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –And sore must be the storm –That could abash the little BirdThat kept so many warm –I’ve heard it in the chillest land –And on the strangest Sea –Yet – never – in Extremity,It asked a crumb – of me.
In the winter I am writing about, there was much darkness. Darkness of nature, darkness of event, darkness of the spirit. The sprawling darkness of not knowing. We speak of the light of reason. I would speak here of the darkness of the world, and the light of _______. But I don’t know what to call it. Maybe hope. Maybe faith, but not a shaped faith–only, say a gesture, or a continuum of gestures. But probably it is closer to hope, that is more active, and far messier than faith must be. Faith, as I imagine it, is tensile, and cool, and has no need of words. Hope, I know is a fighter and a screamer.
Is your life all ups, no downs? Do you ever feel a need to make it look like it is? Maybe to pretend the rough stuff doesn’t exist or put on a big smile to cover a broken heart? Do you ever feel like there must be something wrong with your faith if your life is going badly?
Truth is, shit happens. To the best, most faithful of people. Life’s struggles can feel overwhelming. You can get to the point where you simply cannot see how someone could think and feel the way they do. You can lose hope.
At times like these you need to breathe deep and get yourself to a quiet place. And it sure would do no harm, and maybe a whole lot of good, to read a poem like this:
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Barry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
And the good news is, you can read this poem, and your soul will calm without even being in that place where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water. The words of a good poem are like magic. They can heal you and still the churning waters of your soul. And they can help you remember the ‘day-blind stars waiting with their light’, because, yes, we cannot see the stars in the daytime, but they are there. Shining.
May you rest in the grace of the world and find peace.
In a difficult and challenging place and time, we are called to continue the fight for what is right and good, true and just, honorable and compassionate. We push forward– listening more, caring more, giving more. We can drown out the din and listen to our hearts which strive for peace and harmony, communion, reconciliation. We must hold fast to our principles and to hope as our anchor, especially now.
If anyone could speak to emerging from the kingdom of night, it would be Elie Wiesel. Taken with his parents and sisters to Auschwitz, Wiesel writes of horrors beyond comprehension endured in WWII concentration camps, including the shame he felt in overhearing his father being beaten but being unable to intervene. Orphaned there, he survived and went on to write of his experience and to advocate for the minority or mistreated. He spoke with the authority of the oppressed and illuminated the need for those who witness abuse to not stand silent, but to engage on behalf of that which is right and good:
“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.”
For those reading about something as horrific as the Nazi treatment of Jews, we have trouble understanding. What makes people hate? How can a nation stand by and tolerate the mistreatment and extermination of its own people?
But as we search the darkness for answer, light emerges. While, yes, there are plenty of villains; there, too, are heroes. People like Wiesel rise up and urge us toward our better natures and give us courage to stand down evil.
As we go through our lives today, we can look for ways to rise up, to speak out against injustice and indifference, to value love over hate, and to hold ourselves accountable to those parts of our souls that are light and good.
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