There is a resistance we all face into, but with the presence of others, we can know hope. So let’s listen.
It felt to her that she was the only one having struggles. Every day, as her eyes peeled open, there was an instantaneous thought ‘Can I do this’?
As someone who works outside in the wind and rain, I notice that the ambient surroundings have an effect on me. It might be the heat of the summer or the cold of winter. The mud that clings heavily to my boots in the winter or the brightness of the sun in the heat of summer. There is always a resistance I have to push into.
We need to share the pain of life with someone, but what happens when the confessor, the one we are exposing our heart to, goes rogue. We need to be careful with who we share our heart with.
What they thought was being said in private was now being passed around like appetizers at a dinner party. Everyone had a munch and nibble, then passed the plate on for another’s perusal.
They were locked down now. Having exposed their heart, they had got hurt and had made a vow never to be open again.
To love at all is to be vulnerable.
Love anything, and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to no one, not even an animal.
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements.
Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” ― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
But something had died within them. It was a willingness to trust and, therefore, to know love and give love. They allowed others to come only as close as they felt safe. Functionality, not intimacy. Continue reading “When the Confessor Goes Rogue”
Our brains can be so busy that it can feel like a concussion, but we can help the brain recover by finding some still waters to rest next by.
When I wrote the first draft of this post, I was sitting next to a small stream. There wasn’t much water flowing through it because it is summer and we haven’t had a good rainfall for over 60 days.
But still, the trickle provided life to many. There were some Kokopu (a native New Zealand fish), some birds that would refresh and wash, insects sipping, and tree roots merging with the waters. The water was also being pumped out to beautiful gardens and orchards. Water troughs were being kept full for thirsty horses.
A thought can become a belief that keeps us captive. But we can have an idea that captures us and inspires growth. We need to nurture the good and true.
‘It’s a weasel.’ The trap had caught and killed a weasel. We had noticed that some animal was eating some of the eggs in the chicken coop, so we had set out a trap. Now the culprit was caught and dead.
Weasels and other animals like possums, rats, ferrets, and stoats cause a great deal of damage to our natural wildlife here in New Zealand. Before man coming to our Islands, there were only birds. It was just one happy, chirping bird-filled land.
Few of us know how to fully and deeply relax. The noisy neighbors can keep us from the rest we need, but when we feel safe and known, we can restore.
He almost went to sleep. That was the first observation he shared with me after a short spiritual meditation exercise we went through — silence, peacefulness, quiet focus, and a ‘stepping away’ from the noise.
He stepped away from needing to be someone and to do something into a pose of quiet acceptance.
Breathing in, breathing out. Centering the thoughts and feelings away from the past and the future to being present in the now. Right here, right now.