A few weeks ago I had a vivid dream- a nightmarish vision really- of a woman who had drowned in an indoor hotel swimming pool. There was a large group of fun-loving party-goers who had inadvertently held her under water, crowding on top of one another for a photo shoot. She had fallen to the bottom, lifeless, unnoticed. I seemed a third party omniscient observer in this scene-(or was I the drowned victim?- it was hard to tell.) Later her sister noticed her missing, and began to search for her. (In some ways I was also the sister...) She realized what had happened and approached the pool. I watched from a distance, at this point full of terror and paralyzed- afraid to follow. Even when I heard the young woman, who had discovered her sister's body, scream and scream, I turned away- unable to approach the pain....but knowing that I must.
I dreamed this dream during my most recent visit to Silver Bay. I often have vivid dreams there, and carry a journal with me to record them. My trips there over this past year have provided a space to deepen- in mystery, in prayer, in affirmation of call, and in awareness of shadow- and one part of that processing is through these night-time revelations.
The night before I'd had this dream, I had stayed up late talking with my teacher about the call to spiritual direction- full of excitement and plans, and nurtured by her affirmation and support. So the dream was a strange contrast, perhaps- and yet also a foreshadowing of what lie ahead, as shadows have crept in to the living world as well these past few weeks. The gnarly faces of demons I thought had been expelled long ago have reappeared in recent weeks, since the first appearance of this dream, and since my return home from much traveling. What I had thought would be a time to move more full speed ahead into the call of spiritual direction has instead found me taking a step back to peer into and confront my own inner darkness.
But the spiritual life is not a linear journey. We don't simply advance through stages. There are dark nights and shadows and even demons from our past that return- again and again- sometimes in new ways, and sometimes in the familiar ones we thought we'd left behind.
What changes, at least in my experience, is the growing strength to hold them. When I awoke from the dream of this drowned woman, I had a sense that I had to face some profound fear that I was afraid to face. At the time I thought the fear was an experience outside of myself- another's painful story, perhaps- but as I have moved forward, I have seen that it is my own pain that needs embracing, and that this is necessary work that I must do in order to move more deeply in compassion.
But I also have found what changes is that deep knowledge that I do not have to hold this pain alone. To hear words today from one I trust... I can help you hold your pain... and knowing fully and certainly the truth of those words, was a gift on the journey to healing and becoming whole. It was not the gift I thought I needed, nor the one I had planned to seek- if I had sought anything at all.
I had wanted to share my gifts- not my scars- with this one, and with others. But if I have learned anything at all, it is that the scars hold gifts, if we can allow them the time and space to surface in the light. If I have learned anything at all, it is that I cannot be a healer for others, unless I am able to face and hold my own pain. It is then that the work I do for myself becomes a gift for the world.
Finally, the most necessary lesson of all- if I have learned anything- is that the Holy is always present. And God shows up- beautifully, wonderfully, joyfully- in the brokenness- like the stillness between downpours- a rest on murky rain-beaten water...like the candle that illumines the darkness, offering sight... like the all-embracing love that holds us and heals us and helps us to carry the pain.
I dreamed this dream during my most recent visit to Silver Bay. I often have vivid dreams there, and carry a journal with me to record them. My trips there over this past year have provided a space to deepen- in mystery, in prayer, in affirmation of call, and in awareness of shadow- and one part of that processing is through these night-time revelations.
The night before I'd had this dream, I had stayed up late talking with my teacher about the call to spiritual direction- full of excitement and plans, and nurtured by her affirmation and support. So the dream was a strange contrast, perhaps- and yet also a foreshadowing of what lie ahead, as shadows have crept in to the living world as well these past few weeks. The gnarly faces of demons I thought had been expelled long ago have reappeared in recent weeks, since the first appearance of this dream, and since my return home from much traveling. What I had thought would be a time to move more full speed ahead into the call of spiritual direction has instead found me taking a step back to peer into and confront my own inner darkness.
But the spiritual life is not a linear journey. We don't simply advance through stages. There are dark nights and shadows and even demons from our past that return- again and again- sometimes in new ways, and sometimes in the familiar ones we thought we'd left behind.
What changes, at least in my experience, is the growing strength to hold them. When I awoke from the dream of this drowned woman, I had a sense that I had to face some profound fear that I was afraid to face. At the time I thought the fear was an experience outside of myself- another's painful story, perhaps- but as I have moved forward, I have seen that it is my own pain that needs embracing, and that this is necessary work that I must do in order to move more deeply in compassion.
But I also have found what changes is that deep knowledge that I do not have to hold this pain alone. To hear words today from one I trust... I can help you hold your pain... and knowing fully and certainly the truth of those words, was a gift on the journey to healing and becoming whole. It was not the gift I thought I needed, nor the one I had planned to seek- if I had sought anything at all.
I had wanted to share my gifts- not my scars- with this one, and with others. But if I have learned anything at all, it is that the scars hold gifts, if we can allow them the time and space to surface in the light. If I have learned anything at all, it is that I cannot be a healer for others, unless I am able to face and hold my own pain. It is then that the work I do for myself becomes a gift for the world.
Finally, the most necessary lesson of all- if I have learned anything- is that the Holy is always present. And God shows up- beautifully, wonderfully, joyfully- in the brokenness- like the stillness between downpours- a rest on murky rain-beaten water...like the candle that illumines the darkness, offering sight... like the all-embracing love that holds us and heals us and helps us to carry the pain.
No comments:
Post a Comment