An advent calendar of another kind....
I've only got the cones thus far, and I may never get as far as the stuffed birds, but this is the effect I'm after.
Definitely I've got winter and Christmas on my mind these days. I've got presents stashed, and I'm thinking about making new Christmas stockings. The old set is looking a little tattered. Besides, I need a sewing project so I can further ignore my physiology.
It was -38C a couple mornings ago! And it's only November yet! I hope this isn't a doomful omen of things to come. I'm so glad Chive and Patch finished butchering the rabbits a few weeks ago so we aren't having to cope with feeding and watering under those conditions.
That's the surface chatter...
Underneath it all, I'm pondering trust, and respect, and relationship. Someone asked me a while ago whether there's a spiritual practitioner that I respect. It was a very spur-of-the-moment question, and we only had a few minutes together, and my first answer was no. But since then I've sat with it a lot longer, and I think that it's not so much a question of whether there's anyone I respect, so much as a question of trust.
There are people I respect for who they are and what they do, in spite of their weakness. And that may seem like a no-brainer, except that it's not. Not really. It hurts me that there's no perfection. A lot. I want to respect and trust someone for being perfect. For being God, actually.
There's part of me that would love to just crash and be totally vulnerable with a counselor or spiritual advisor or companion, but the rest of me knows that's foolish. I will never do that again. I will never deal with anyone, be they ever so advanced or insightful or holy, no matter how they say they love me, without filtering everything they say through my own guts and intuition and good sense. Never. We're all prone to fall and to fail. It's not only a disservice to myself to fail to "test the spirits", it's also a disservice to the person on the other side. We can't hold each other to impossible standards. It's cruel.
So I guess I'll talk with her again, and flesh things out. She's hurting, and wants answers. I don't think there are any. Sometimes everything just hurts terribly for a while. Sometimes a long while.
That's why I'm making Advent. Pretty paper helps take my mind off things for a bit.
6 comments:
what does it say about me that I like this post?
Probably that we have a fair bit in common, eh?
I was hoping you could eat those cones until I saw the ingredients list.
Now, I'm just hoping no one eats one of them.
In a way, that also describes the other situation you referred to.
Can't help it.
I live in a world full of meaning.
What's a "spiritual practitioner"? How would they be different than a preacher, priest, rabbi, etc.?
Mercutio - I can't decide whether everything is full of meaning, or I'm just making up stories all the time!
C - Not necessarily any religion of any stripe, but people who are good at "reading hearts". Sort of like the tradition of Madonna House, if you're familiar with that.
Ah, akin to an apostolate.
It is true. Opening the door to love is to invite vulnerability and will without question expose you to risk.
Of course, that doesn't diminish the call to be discerning.
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