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A Right And A Good And A Joyful Thing
By gartenfische | February 21, 2008
Fear not to walk upon unbeaten tracks,
if such tracks bring you near to Him who is the truth.
-The Teaching of Kabir
While meditating this morning, a well-worn idea popped into my head about rules and following rules, as opposed to surrendering to God. Unfortunately, I didn’t simply watch the thought and let it go (I didn’t follow the rule!). Instead, I traipsed after it as it took off down a winding lane where it said, All your life you’ve searched for a set of instructions, a plan, for getting God. Do this, do that—follow these sixteen steps, form these five habits, recite these affirmations, make a list—one, two, three, four—and all will fall into place.
But all didn’t fall into place. It only confused me—all that frantic searching. Who is right, after all? Everybody has their opinion, their own set of rules, their This worked for me so it’ll work for you formulas.
The formulas didn’t work because we each have a unique path. We can—and should—learn from others, but our unique path is to follow God’s will for us, not to wander down other peoples’ paths—that’s how we get lost. I wandered down everybody’s path but my own for many, many years. I tried out different religious ideas, adopted affirmations, followed a multitude of teachers and their various instructions.
Finally, I came home to Jesus. And oh how wonderful that felt: truly, truly, a coming home (a coming home to a place I’d never been before, as the song goes). Of course I am not saying that the Christian path is the only way, but it seems it is the only way for me.
And then, once on the Christian road, I continued my old search for the right answers, the foolproof techniques, the blueprint. The secret, tell me the secret! Hey, yoohoo—I knocked and knocked and knocked, my mind’s fist ending up bruised from fighting with that steel door (or was it a trap?—hmmm, both, methinks).
Maybe it’s my German half that led me to desperately seek a logical, color-by-numbers approach that would deliver God and God’s bliss to my doorstep. My genetics and training seem to lead me to favor this approach. I was raised with the conviction that greater effort equals greater results. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. So I tried. And tried. And tried.
Now I am learning that, for me, it’s more a yearning of the heart that matters, a willingness to follow where God leads, rather than discovering a master key, rather than expending a great spiritual and mental effort. And bliss? That will come if it comes.
I recently wrote a post along similar lines, in which I quoted James Martin, author of Becoming Who You Are: Insights on the True Self from Thomas Merton and Other Saints:
“The multiplicity of desires leads to a multiplicity of paths to God.”
Our desires are God’s prompting, showing us which way to go. (Martin’s not talking about false self desires, of course.) I’ve written numerous times that I need to learn to trust myself and God, not always capitulate to others’ opinions and beliefs. It is hard for one who did not develop a healthy self esteem as a young person to see that her own way is valid. It is a huge, huge step. But I finally began to become convinced that I do have a path, that it is—is is is—valid and unique, that I can trust God to lead me down it. We are each so different, how can we think our paths should be the same? How can we think there is one answer that fits all? We have to believe that we are each called, and that we are called to be true to our selves and to God as God leads us.
Which brings to mind a time when I categorically did not follow what I now believe was God’s prompting. I was in my twenties; I didn’t know anything about Thomas Merton, but felt especially drawn to him, to his writings. One day, I was in a bookstore with my mother and we were browsing in the spirituality section when I spotted one of his books. I told my mom how I felt and she came back with an immediate and unequivocal negative response: Really? she said, screwing up her face. It was abundantly clear that Merton was unacceptable, maybe even evil. Now she was raised Catholic at a time when the Catholic church was doing many things wrong, and she developed a jaded mindset for good reasons. But the point is, I listened to her, when I should have listened to myself. It was not her fault—we are each entitled to our opinions—but I did not pursue my interest in Merton, I let it drop, not picking up one of his books for at least another ten years. There was a reason I had this desire—it was God prompting me. Now I know that, in Merton, there is a delicious coming together of my love and respect for Eastern spirituality and my Christianity. He speaks directly to my heart. Lesson learned: my mother’s path is not mine.
Another reminder of the individuality of our paths, from Joan Chittister, this one from Kirsten’s blog:
What calls us to our deepest, most impassioned selves is surely the really sanctifying dimension of religion for us. That which magnetizes us is the point at which our own holiness lies.
Which echoes, of course, Teresa of Avila’s instruction to “Do whatever kindles love in you.”
What kindles love in you, what magnetizes you, will be different than what draws me. And I have noticed a sad tendency—my mind often overrides my desires. I have to be careful about this, since I have a bit of an obsessive mind that does not like to be told to go in another direction, even if it is God suggesting it. This post is long enough, or I would give a few examples (they have to do with writing, gardening, being in nature).
May we all follow our God-sent desires. May we each know that our unique path is legitimate—no, more than that—is right and good and a joyful thing.
And fear not to walk upon unbeaten tracks, if such tracks bring you near to Him who is the truth.
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The photo is me at four, before I had set my little foot on these multitudinous paths. I probably knew more then than I do now. There’s a reason Jesus instructed us to become like little children.
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I find it sad that someone came to my blog through this search: “stop my Christian husband from practicing yoga.” She found this page, which, I am sure, did not help her. Yoga is good for your husband, it really, really is. It will lead him closer to God. But that is just my opinion. I should not judge this man’s path, or his wife’s, but it seems another possible example of not allowing God’s will to unfold in someone’s life, not accepting that his path may be different and that is okay.
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Please, please go read this important article, The Dumbing of America, over at wyrdbyrd. I believe all Americans should read it. If you’d rather, here’s the direct link to the article at the Washington Post. Got it over at PoodleDoc’s.
Topics: Thomas Merton, contemplative living, God, Christianity, life |
February 21st, 2008 at 4:05 pm
God is a God of second chances. isn’t he? Your story of missing out on Merton in your 20s reminds me of so many missed buses in my own life - yet somehow God has enabled me to hop on the next one along.
“This worked for me so it’ll work for you…” That reminds me of a wonderful passage in Rowan Williams’ Silence and Honey Cakes where he says that at the Day of Judgement he won’t be asked why he wasn’t Martin Luther King or Mother Teresa, but why he wasn’t Rowan Williams!
Pax et Bonum
Mike
February 21st, 2008 at 5:44 pm
Mike, Yes, God is a God of second chances, thank God! You know, I even hesitate to bemoan too much my lost first chances—who knows, they may be grist for the mill? How can I say that time period was lost or somehow useless? Maybe it helped me along in ways that I can’t even see.
Thank you for the Williams quote. So right. And for me, it means valuing myself enough to believe it is worth being myself (I was going to write gartenfische, but I suspect you know that’s not my real name!). Even this first step took a long time.
Thank you for reading yet another long, long post! Blessings to you.
February 22nd, 2008 at 12:13 pm
GF, I blogrolled ya on my new blog — click my name! stop by and leave a comment!
for my rants and musings on things other than yoga and india…..
February 22nd, 2008 at 12:54 pm
Linda, Thanks! I’ll come have a look. I started another blog for my non-religious stuff (you already know that), but I admit I spend little time on it—I haven’t even started a blogroll yet!
Best wishes for your new venture!
February 22nd, 2008 at 3:49 pm
Oh my- I have not been here for awhile. As always, my heart is moved and my soul stirred by your words.
What a journey you are on! And thank you for taking us with you as you go along.
February 22nd, 2008 at 6:41 pm
Thank you, Gf for this beautiful post (this is my fourth visit here to read it!) and no, not just because too much tv/video/facebook have addled my brain (see, I do follow up your links!) but because I had to process some thoughts it stirred up.
I have a very obsessive mind too–very Methodist-systematic-fold along the lines-be responsible-for-others… but the big thing I got from your post was: I mustn’t be your mother in such a situation. My path may not be (cannot be!) the same as someone else’s and they have to choose to read their own Mertons! (No, I don’t have children–these were young friends who decided yesterday they can’t accept my friendship under terms they consider condescending) Having decided that I’m feeling this enormous relief so I think it’s the right decision!
February 22nd, 2008 at 10:03 pm
Dear Fran, as always, thank you. You are patient to read my long ramblings—sometimes I feel I go too far!
Ovidia, I am humbled that you would return and read this several times. I am glad that it helped you in a small way. I’m sorry about your friends who seem immature, perhaps because they are young and headstrong, but whatever the reason, I think you can trust your decision, since it feels so right.
February 23rd, 2008 at 5:07 am
wow, this is great, Garten. We’re going away for a couple of days, and I’m thinking about getting a copy of The Seeds of Contemplation and taking along. Seems like the best for Lent.
February 23rd, 2008 at 8:24 am
Thanks for this, Gartenfische. I feel as if I am in that space of being pulled in a million different directions, both spiritually, and in the very “small I” sense. Even in all of my franticness, there is a still voice that I can hear if I take time for a steady breath in the midst of all that ragged gasping telling me just to stop, listen, and trust God.
Too bad we are so well programmed to discount such guidance again and again and again. But there is always a chance on the next breath, to savor it and be present and let go of all of the conditioned madness. Right?
February 23rd, 2008 at 9:03 am
This is just to say hello really. I’ve found you through your link to Beauty from Chaos — and am so glad I did.
Your post today is saying things I need to hear, but I am at that inarticulate phase of working through something, so cannot offer much response beyond ‘thank you.’
February 23rd, 2008 at 11:17 am
Diane, Yes, I think Merton is an excellent Lenten companion.
Epiphany, We understand one another! I do think it takes time (and God’s help) to finally, finally begin to trust, to believe what God is telling us instead of what society tells us. It is so beautiful that God never gives up on us and no matter how many times we forget or mess up, there is always, always another chance. And another. And another.
Kimberly, Thank you so much for stopping by and for leaving a comment. I am really glad this post helped you a little. Blessings.
February 24th, 2008 at 2:09 pm
I really like seeing you as a little girl.
Your story of first being attracted to Merton reminds me of those nudges I’ve also felt and pushed away–only to realize later that I should have paid attention! That’s a learning, too, as nothing is wasted by God.
Again, I reverberate with your feelings of trusting–so hard, so necessary, so stretching.
Thank you.
February 24th, 2008 at 2:10 pm
PS
I always appreciate you visiting my blog and carefully reading each post.
February 24th, 2008 at 5:05 pm
Searching for the authentic self, the one God is calling us to be. It seems like when we are say, 4, we have a handle on it. Then we lose it and spend the rest of our lives, it seems, re-claiming it. Thanks for sharing all this!
February 25th, 2008 at 9:09 am
GF, you might want to check out my latest post on LYJ….
February 25th, 2008 at 2:15 pm
Jan, and THANK YOU, too! I am usually a little behind so end up playing catch up, but I do try to read everything. Your blog is a true treasure.
Poodledoc, yes, exactly! That’s what Thomas Keating (and Merton, and many others) have said—it’s that false self that we build up and then we need to unbuild it and come back to our true selves.
Linda, thank you, thank you, thank you! What a surprise! You are so kind.