Deeper and More

It has been a long winter.  But today is the first day of astronomical spring, and the sky is that light powder blue that you see sometimes during an Ohio winter. For the second day in a row I saw glimpses of the sun.  Maybe, just maybe, this long winter is ready to slowly yield to spring.  

Balance and moderation are touchstones in Benedictine spirituality, and one way to achieve both is through the spiritual discipline of stability.  Benedict believed that by staying put - committing to stay where you are for better or for worse - you could really get to know God, yourself and the people who journey with you in a much deeper and more meaningful way.  Thus stability can be a powerful tool for transformation.  The move from Idaho to Ohio in many ways upended that stability for me.  I felt like a plant yanked out of the soil with my roots hanging bare.  And it was winter...

I love knowing the rhythms of the place were I live, and in Idaho that, for me, was governed by rhythms like the nesting of the red-tailed hawks and the hunting cycle of the Cooper's Hawk (winter was when she came to hunt in my backyard); the life cycle of the quail who daily visited my back yard and Protest Season (also know as the Idaho Legislative Session); the first signs of the "lone crocus" that bloomed in the front garden, and, of course, the appearance of the first shoots of my beloved Lily of the Valley.  I have planted LoV everywhere I have lived - it makes any place feel like home (even if I have to plant it in a pot).

But I arrived in Ohio in the dead of winter - roots bare and dangling from the hand of God - without a clue as to the rhythm of this strange new place.  Had it not been for B, I might have felt completely lost.

B was waiting for me in my garden even before I arrived.  I started by calling her Bunny because, well, she is a rabbit and she had not yet told me her name.  Rabbit felt too formal - so Bunny it was.  But yesterday as we visited I noticed an "old soul" quality in her so I've transitioned to calling her B until she tells me otherwise.  Those who write about animal totems say that when rabbit medicine comes into your life it reflects a new beginning - and this is certainly that (just as cardinal medicine means renewed vitality - which is also good).  Almost without exception I see her every day and we take a moment to visit.  She is a very good listener.  I'm amazed by her camo coat - her fur looks like dried leaves and she blends right into the garden.  I love to sit on the bench that was only recently covered in snow and try to see the garden through her eyes.  Unlike my backyard in Idaho, I have absolutely no idea what is beginning to sprout under the carpet of dried leaves.  It is all a mystery with a capital M - just like B - and the strange, unmistakable force that gently (with permission) uprooted me from the familiar garden back in Idaho and brought me to Ohio - bare roots and all.

I find Lent to be a mirror of this journey to Coga (as Benjamin calls it).  I feel the longing for a closer walk with God and so I lift a few Lenten devotionals and books off the shelf and place them on my nightstand to read each night before bed...I set my intention and identify the growing edge(s) calling for attention...I think of an additional path of service and I both boldly (and inwardly timidly) step into the wilderness with God.  From there, the journey takes the path it takes - often outside of what I have planned!  It is only week two of Lent and already it is clear that the map I carefully drew for this journey no longer resembles the landscape.  The good news is I can use it to start a fire and keep warm!

Next year at this time I will have observed a full trip around the sun from here.  I will know my garden and its inhabitants, and it will know me.  Slowly my body will begin to align with the rhythms of this place, and it will become home.  My roots will feel the warmth of this soil around them and, with the help of the summer sun, will sink deeply into this place and time.  And like B, I will start to resemble my environment and become part of the web of life here.  Benedict will smile - stability begun.  Transformation to follow.  

Today is the Vernal Equinox - the time when we have an equal amount of day and night.  Balance.  We tip in favor of the light from here on out (until the autumnal equinox brings us back to balance before sending the pendulum in the other direction).  I, for one, rejoice in this good news, even if they are predicting snow for Friday!

What brings you balance?  Who or what brings you messages from the Divine?  And what role does the spiritual discipline of stability play in your journey?  We often denigrate the discipline of stability and confuse it with inflexibility or resistance to change.  It need be neither of those things, but instead can be a different invitation to deeper and more.

With love and prayers for the journey,

Kim