Some of my favorite writers like Paula D'Arcy, Richard Rohr , Mark Nepo and Jack Kornfield all write about living from the heart. They talk about allowing our faith and our experiences to change us into people who can see the world differently. They insist on the power of perspective and on marrying our understanding of spiritual truth with our everyday lives. They also say . . .
"we dare not get rid of our pain until we have learned what it has to teach us."
These two ideas - learning to see differently and learning what pain has to teach us -came together for me recently when I remembered an unforgettable hike in North Carolina. Hiking can be a unique and powerfully physical experience of arriving at a place where we can see ourselves and our lives from a different perspective.
I was attending a retreat at Kanuga, a beautiful place in the mountains of North Carolina. During some free time, I decided to explore the hills around the center. I was alone and unfamiliar with the trails, so I went to the lodge and ask the clerk if they had a map. She gave me two sets of instructions - both written and drawn - so I felt prepared and off I went .
I began to climb my way up to a vista point, carefully watching each turn and twist in the trail, checking the map often to be sure I was going the right way. Then about 1/3 of the way up, I stopped and realized that I was missing the beauty of these beautiful woods because my head was always down reading the map. So, I carefully folded it and put it in my pocket thinking – heck, as long as I go up I can’t get too lost.
When I reached the top, there was a view that literally took my breath. It was 360 degrees of gorgeous and I was speechless. While I was up there, it began to rain , so I just sat down and began to sing. The birds joined in and it was a magnificent moment – an out-of-this-world-moment when I felt connected to all that was around me. I thought of how tied we can get to a guidebook . . . intent on making sure we "do this right" . And yet, when we do that, we miss the scenery and, perhaps, the importance of the journey altogether. "Doing it right" is an effort to shape our experience into something we think it "should" be, rather than allowing it to be what it is. Our fear of getting lost can rob us of the wisdom within the experience.
But there is more to the hiking experience than the destination. Hiking can be a real struggle when the terrain is rough. It requires a willingness to put forth the effort, to keep going when we feel tired and sore, to continue putting one foot in front of the other ,trusting this effort is worth something. We must decide when to stop and rest, so we don't completely exhaust ourselves and what to carry with us, remembering that if we carry too much it will only get heavy and cumbersome. We sometimes need tireless companions who are willing to accompany us, encourage us when we tire and remind us of why we need to keep going.
In April of 2007 our son died. He was 35 years old, a beautiful person in and out . . .our first born, The pain of that grief has been unlike anything I could have ever imagined. It has been in many ways like hiking . . . in the physical demand of the journey, the need for directions and the trust that my trudging would take me to a new kind of peace.
I wonder . . . what metaphors come to mind for you?
What helps you to see differently ?
What helps you to remember that Love is constantly shaping you, healing you, enfolding you and making you wise?
