How to Gather the Riches We’ve Been Given

Posted by on 03.17.07 | 1 Comment
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From my study overlooking the fields and trees and frozen beaver pond, I see layers of new snow. They are resting on all the hidden life below; earthworms, seeds, eggs of future insects, hibernating snakes in the stone wall, a black chipmunk in the same wall, and so much more.

It seems to me that those of us who have returned from the remarkable and life-changing WomenSpeak 2007 share some things with that snow. We have been plumped up with something new. Beneath the surface of our everyday lives lie hidden things, almost unnamed. If I go digging for them, in my typical, hurried American fashion, I’m not sure I’ll find them. They may be too small, too new, too unformed. But if I wait patiently (oh, so hard for me!), perhaps some of these infant creations will be revealed.

The shapes of fresh discoveries are almost near enough to touch. One I know and can name: I have decided to be wiser about how I spend my time; to not run around trying to prop up needy people as often as I have done. This doesn’t mean a withdrawal of compassion; of course I’ll still respond to friends in need. But there is an acute difference between scattering our energies and conserving them for the most important things ahead.

And what are those most important things? What are they for you? Can you name them?

For me I am hazarding a guess–a wild shot into the blue: To stay connected to womens’ spirit and women’s power, however that appears for me in the days and weeks ahead; To speak my truth to others in the way I did at the conference. This story–parenting a child with a mental disorder and how we survived as a family–needs to be told. There are SO many of us out there, and so many of us need to share our stories so that we do not buy into the shame our culture attaches to mental illness. We need to touch the solidity of others who have walked the same paths we have, so that we can name how God has held her hands under us again and again and again.

I am minded of a quote from St. Paul, from 2 Corinthians: ch. 4, v. 7–”We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives.” (from “The Message.”) I am meditating on the clay pot that is my life and how it can contain the mystery of God and the message of hope. We so need hope in these times.

In a room nearby my daughter is working on her novel about three older teens who are somehow double in themselves. My husand is crashed out on the sofa after shoveling snow for 3 hours. The dogs snore and twitch on the flowered living room rug, and I am heading for a nap and a self-treatment of Reiki, as I still adjust to crossing 6 time zones in 6 days.

Peace to all of you. May the wellsprings of hope bubble up in your lives.




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