Gifts of In-Breaking: Part 3

  

In Part 2 of In-Breaking, I spoke of the “O” Antiphon “—O, Oriens” (the Morning Light from the East). The in-breaking of that light comes as gift to each of us in unexpected moments—leaves blazing autumn; smile dawning on a face awed by kindness; gnarled hands soothing a sobbing child. These can be moments of great enlightenment and wonder. They are always moments when, to paraphrase the English poet Wordsworth, our “heart leaps up.” 

 

As we move through the seasons of our life, the gift of light—insight—grace blesses us. Each moment of utter awareness becomes a treasured bead. From these beads, we make our life’s rosary of gratitude—gratefulness. The beads slip through the fingers of our mind whenever we need to recall the quiet, the peace, of blessedness.  

 

That startling moment of in-breaking for me last Tuesday brought questions . . . answers . . . and recall. 

 

In years past, I crocheted; worked jigsaw puzzles; walked four miles each day; macraméd; peddled a bike 10 miles before work; volunteered; protested; got out the vote with MoveOn.org; served as an election judge; painted watercolors; used a piano keyboard; practiced yoga; worked in my vegetable, perennial, and rock gardens; baked; tried countless new vegetarian recipes; threw dinner parties; studied classical Greek; memorized a stanza of a poem each day, . . .

 

When light broke in; I realized I’d left it all beyond. All the joy of it. The feeling of accomplishment. The delight. My life had narrowed to five items a day; I’d pinned my entire attention on writing a memoir.

 

That in-breaking also helped me realize why this had happened.

 

In October 2019, I published The Reluctant Spy, an historical novel. The novel reflected my own search for who Yeshua was and is, my struggle with a personal God, my dreams of Wholeness, and my dawning belief in Oneness. 

 

The Reluctant Spy represented 20 years of living, reflecting, researching, and writing. And . . . it was . . . it is . . . a dismal flop. Only a few—maybe 15—copies have sold. 

 

Six weeks after its publication, I had my second knee replacement. The recuperation from that, unlike the first replacement, was long. Difficult. Problematic.

 

Possibly because of the stress from those two incidents or from the changes wrought by climate change or because I’ve been diagnosed with Meniere’s that is “progressive and intractable,” the disease kicked in and for the past two years has been—it sometimes seems to me—ever present. 

 

What now? What after the gift of grace? 

 

First, gratitude abounds. Second, I’m taking baby-steps to redefine my life and put back into it those activities and thoughts that bless me: Puzzle pieces litter the dining-room table; the keyboard on the card-table beckons my fingers; yarn lies ready to be crocheted into an afghan. The yoga DVD is in the player. Two textbooks—one Greek, one Latin—await my inquiring mind. All invite me to create a new life as I move toward the Beyond.

 

Then, wonder of wonders, that in-breaking brought to me the first paragraphs of the memoir with which I’ve struggled for two years. It is, I believe, the perfect entryway to the telling of my life.

 

This sudden and welcomed in-breaking then is the gift of Advent and Christmas. Life truly is good.

 

Peace.

 

NOTE: The writings of Richard Rohr, whom I mentioned yesterday, explore a theology I no longer embrace. But often, his daily meditation provides food for thought about Oneness. 

 

I also read Cameron Trimble who writes for “Convergence.” His down-to-earth stories always bring new spiritual realizations to me. 

 

Photo from Wikipedia.