Recovery

A host of golden daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. c. 1804.

At peak times of activity, work deadlines, family challenges and demands, we can often be left with a longing for rest time - a time to recover. It connects me too with the recovery time needed after a period of illness. There is often a blessing in the fatigue and weakness which we can encounter at these times. We have endured a period of hardship, and find ourselves empty and exhausted. 

Our strength and direction have momentarily left us. We don't feel able for much activity, if any, and even conversation can be demanding. At times of illness, we may have to hand ourselves and our well-being over to teams of doctors and specialists, who schedule us for tests, for diagnosis, and treatment. We are cared for by nurses or family members, who encourage us to eat something. 

In spite of it all, once pain is not excessive, we can be quite content in this momentary time of weakness. It keeps ambition and restlessness at bay - they too receive little energy or focus from us. That, in itself, is a great balm for the mind and body. We pace ourselves, getting a little exercise, eating a little wholesome food, snoozing, having a little read, a little conversation, and another snooze. Bit by bit, we continue to strengthen.

Recovery is a gentle time - time to rest, to be quiet, to let the inner rhythm dictate the pace. Time to admire the daffodils, the nesting birds, to feel the heat of the sun on our face, on our back. Time to see what nature is doing - it constantly gives us clues as to what we should be doing, or not doing, and the natural pace of the season. It is time to retreat, to go inwards and replenish. To go back to Source, and soothe the emptiness and confusion. It is a sacred time. Every now and again, it's good to recover. To take stock of our lives and our direction. To recover our balance, our rhythm, our natural way. To recover ourselves. 

To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects ... is to succumb to the violence of our times.

Thomas Merton

Every season moves onto the next. We will move forward again soon enough.

Easter Renewal

Essay published in Spirituality magazine, March/April 2015.

The gloriously scented bluebell

Easter is probably my favourite liturgical time of the year. At some point many years ago, I realised that a wonderful sense of wellbeing and enthusiasm comes over me at this time of year. It is also matched by the warming springtime, longer days, daffodils and bluebells. This sense of wellbeing arrives at Easter, and follows on from a quieter Lenten time of inner transformation and prayerfulness.

I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful than the bluebell I have been looking at. I know the beauty of our Lord by it.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Lent has traditionally been a time of prayer, fasting and helping others (almsgiving), when we engage in a period of renewal, and try in our own way to echo the 40 days our Lord spent in the wilderness, praying, fasting, and being tempted. It culminates at Easter when we take time to meditate on His Passion, and to celebrate His Resurrection.


It is a time of cleansing and sacrifice, of doing without unnecessary luxuries and of consciously trying to give up unhealthy habits and behaviours. Some people decide to give up something specific such as smoking, alcohol, chocolate or sugar, or at least to limit their levels of consumption. Others look towards their actions and try to give up bad habits, negative attitudes, unhelpful thinking or other limiting behaviours. Still others decide to take up a positive habit for Lent – getting more exercise, eating well, helping others, showing random acts of kindness, or offering their time to volunteer at a local organisation.


What I noticed about this season is that even if we find ourselves too busy or too stressed or for any reason unable or uninterested to engage consciously with this renewal, the renewal seems to happen anyway, albeit with probably a little more resistance from ourselves. Life energy is renewing itself, and we all benefit. God, as Life, is emptying us out, clearing out the cobwebs, and preparing for a freshness in our direction, in our thinking, and in our lives. It prepares us for a new beginning. It is an internal time, a time of releasing old and unwanted habits. We are being renewed from within.


This inner renewal can be far from easy. It can be a time of intense frustration, where nothing goes according to plan, and obstacles appear around every corner. It is a time of following, rather than leading. It is a time of sensitivity, of recognising our limitations, our flaws and our compulsions. We can gain great self-awareness during this time, and become wise to our tendencies and habitual reactivity to life. We can also become weary and despairing. This weariness is a good thing, as it makes us reluctantly accept and admit our limitations. Through an inner consent and surrender, we are then more open to welcoming God’s Way into our lives and circumstances.


Fasting has been a tradition in many cultures and religions throughout the centuries, cleansing the body, clarifying the mind, and renewing our spirit. Apart from food, the act of going without can mean abstaining from overindulging in work life, sport, TV, computers, tablets, Facebook and other technology. It can also mean noticing and trying to balance or curb our emotional responses at work and with loved ones, such as losing our patience, getting angry, or falling into despair.


The difficulties we may experience during Lent humble us and make us more aware of our weaknesses and imbalances. Through perseverance and prayer, we are echoing the temptations of Jesus in the wilderness, his prayers to his Father, and his overcoming of the temptations in the desert. We can often feel that parts of us are dying off at this time of year. It is the dying off of the old stale parts of us. It stirs a desire in us for the purity and simplicity of God’s love. It awakens in us a desire for prayer and devotion. We gain patience for the weaknesses of others. We may even find it easier to help others at this time. Through sacrifice, our internal needs are simplified.


By Easter, there is a great forward thrust in life, in nature and within ourselves. The darkness of winter gives way to the light of spring. The land becomes warm, crops are sown and vegetables are planted for the seasons ahead. We notice the quality of light changing, the length of our day, and daylight saving heralds a burst of evening light and activity. We feel back to our old selves, but better, because humility stays with us, and we remain sensitive to others needs. We are more generous with our desires. We want something, but because it benefits more than just ourselves. This season surrounds us with a sense of holiness and goodwill and acceptance of self, others and our circumstances. We are blessed and renewed.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Retreat

If the Cross is deeply contemplated, it is saying that love is supreme, and that the darkness and the apparent unfairness of life can be endured. In the Cross, love is able to speak ... speak to any human situation, whether of loss, of persecution, of disillusion.

Fr. John Woolley

As we begin the Lenten season, it reminds me again to look within, to recognise those unhelpful hiding places and defensive positions, those habitual reactions to others and to life, and to seek Love's comfort, Love's help, Love's understanding, Love's patience, Love's company, Love's solitude, Love's resilience, Love's invitation to surrender and overcome, Love's rest.