Does there come a point when everything is said and there is nothing left to say? I am thinking that some of my stories may now be repeating themselves.
If someone said, “Look you have a year to capture the most significant moments in your life. You will write every day with the belief that by the 366 day the most significant moments will be revealed in the previous 365 days writing.” Would you do it? I seem to be almost there although the secret is taking each day as it comes and not looking for anything but the now.
Now I request your help by telling me what are the reoccurring themes? What moment speaks loudest to you? Do you sense anything missing?
It is a strange thing but I do sense I am writing this for my daughter and my descendants (descendants sounds rather grandiose but anyway). At points in my life, I have heard a tale about someone from the past who is well gone. In my head, I would have liked to have read something they had written in the hope that I could have connected with them.
I encourage everyone to write at least a sentence for those who come after in the hope that their words may give life to present-day hearers.
The traditional Christian Churches follow a calendar which repeats itself year on year. At one level it is the same festivals and message but at another is not the same as each day we become someone different. We as people grow every day. We are not the same person today as yesterday. How we interact each year is different because we are different, the world around us and everyone in it.
There are few things in my life I have done in a concerted way. Indeed the only other thing (other than this, writing every day for a year (WEDFAY) ) that comes to mind is taking part in, ‘A Retreat in Daily Life’ (RiDL). That began in September 2008 and ended in May 2009. It was 9 months rather than 12 months.
We started with the birth of Christ moving to his ministry unto his death, his resurrection, his ascension and the coming of the Holy Spirit. Each day centred around a period of prayer. For me, it was around 30 minutes and occurred at lunchtime in the library. I devised a technique that gave the appearance I was reading a book when in fact I was praying.
When I say ‘praying’ it is not what I learnt as prayers it was more like waiting in silence. I would read maybe two or three lines from the Gospel of Mark. If I recall correctly we used Mark’s account of Christ’s life in our nine-month journey. After reading in the time I had left I would imagine the scene and place myself in it. So for instance, if it was the story of Jesus (or as I prefer to call him Eashoa) on the boat with his friends when a storm blew up I would imagine myself as a mouse on the ship watching the scene being played out. I was touched deeply as I prayed in this manner, the praying was really bringing me into the scene and in turn, being affected by what I witnessed. I would feel the wind, I would get wet, I would hear Aramaic, I would sense fear and then I would experience calm and return to ponder in my mouse hole.
It was in the final days of this 9 months that something happened. It was imperceptible, I didn’t see it coming. I was in the library and I was contemplating the love of God for all of creation. Words only attempt to describe the experience but words are all I have here. It was as if I fell through the floor of my own built house of theology. I fell through into the sky and as I was falling I was aware of love surrounding me, there was no fear. In that experience, all theology burnt away. I was like a space rocket that had needed a base to launch from though once launched I had no need for the base. Experiencing the love of God for all somehow gave me a love for all people. There were no divisions we were all one, everyone was connected to me and I to them. More importantly, we were all connected to God and could never be separated from God nor each other.
You may be wondering have I continued to live out this experience? I do fall into my previous way of thinking where divisions exist between people and I contribute to them in my mind but I am often then reminded that there is another way and it did feel better. The better way is ‘the love for all people of which I am at one’ yet as I say there remains a part of me that finds it difficult to love some people and indeed in that thinking I don’t want to love them, how could you?
Just this last week I was reminded that I am only forgiven as I forgive.
So I suppose I am wondering whether I am again going to ‘fall through the floor’ as I enter the last week of this year of writing. I am mindful that it is without planning coinciding with the Western Church’s Holy Week and we know how that ended.
Please walk with me as we walk towards the horizon of this year end.