SUCH A LITTLE LIFE

One of the problems with the future is that it does not exist. It exists only in our imaginations. The future is an empty space. We fill it with our imaginations. The future is what we think it is in our minds.  When the future comes, it no longer exists.  It has become the present. It is no longer empty space with images of what we think, but it is what is actually happening.

What we imagine may not become real in the present. Imagination and what materializes do not always match. But what does happen is that what we imagine about the future has a significant influence how we live in the present. What we think the future holds will pretty well determine what we do with our time today.

So, our real question about the future is, "What do we fill that empty space with?"  

One thing we fill the future with is scary images. We create horror stories. What can go wrong? What can happen to hurt us? What will my children do that will be dangerous? What will happen to the economy?  We can "awfulize" the future.  This helps us by alerting us to dangers. We do this to protect ourselves from unpleasant surprises. The ability to imagine unpleasant eventualities keeps us on our toes.

But, to live there is to live in constant fear. To fill the empty uncertain future with thing that threaten us and scare us leads us to hide from life. Or, as Shirley Valentine said in the movie of that same name, "I've lived such a little life." Living in fear shrinks our lives.

Since the future is empty and we can fill it with our imagination, what would happen if we filled it with images of blessing and goodness?  What if we leaned into that space with the courage to love and embrace what shows up in that space? What if we expected life to offer us grace rather than judgment?

Well, we can be sure to be disappointed. For when we imagine good it might not happen. But, imagining good opens the eyes to seeing it. Imaging shapes what we look for.  It might contribute to the good actually materializing. To imagine life as an adventure of discovery opens us to "live large."

I don't know how tomorrow will turn out. But, I do know that the images I project into the empty space of the future can help me live with more or less fear. And I do know that love has power to, if not eliminate fear, at least put it in it's place. 

WORRYWART

When I was growing up, it was said this way: "Don't be a worry wart!!".  Jesus said, "Don't worry about tomorrow. . . ."  And he said, "Don't worry about your life, what you shall eat or drink, . . . " My experience tells me that this is easier said than done. Worrying seems to be a natural part of our mortal existence in a changing world.

Adam Phillips, in his book "On Kissing, Tickling and Being Bored: Psychoanalytic Essays on the Unexamined Life" writes that the word "worry" comes from a word that means to kill by strangulation.  It referred to what a dog did when it caught it's prey. In some sense, that illumines the our experience of worry. We latch onto a thought or an idea and we try to consume it.  We try to take it apart so we can take it into our minds and digest it.

The word has come to mean not only what we do but what is done to us. We not only worry about things, but things worry us. It is as if we are trying to simplify something enough that we can digest it and integrate it into our life, or that we are overcome by something and trying to take it apart to make sense of it.

I have never figured out how to not worry. When things happen that cause me to wonder about myself and my future, I have to spend time thinking about it. I envy those who have "worry beads" because it seems that at least the fingering of the beads gives a sense of order and sequence to thoughts that are more generally chaotic and disorganized.

So, I don't advise people not to worry. That is almost like telling people not to breathe. But, I do suggest that the unknown future and the feelings of fear that they evoke are worth pondering. I think it is human to engage in "soulful wrestling" with the principalities and powers that seem to live within us and around us. And it seems to me that this is what prayer is: soulful wrestling.

But, there needs to be margins around our worrying, our pondering. There needs to be times when we move forward in our living, not swallowed by our worries. To be consumed by worry sucks energy from living our lives and loving that which around us. Take time to pray or ponder but don't let it steal all your energy for living.

VAST SPACE

Sometimes when things stop being the way they were, empty space opens up for things to be what they are becoming.

A recent fascinating documentary explored the life of Stephen Hawking, theoretical physicist and cosmologist. At an early age he was diagnosed with ALS, a degenerative nerve disease that completely disables and is usually fatal.  He was told that he would live only 2 or three more years.  

But, now, at 72, he is one of the greatest physicists of all time. As his body deteriorated through the years, Mr. Hawking explored the origins of the universe and mathematically proved the "Big Bang" theory of creation. He studied "black holes" and has contributed to quantum leaps in scientific insight into the expanding cathedral of the universe.

Mr Hawking's ability to speak became so bad that he had to have someone interpret for him.  Then, in 1985, he nearly died with pneumonia but when he recovered from a coma, he lost all ability to speak.  Because he could only move a muscle in his cheek, he was outfitted with a computer device that enabled him to move a curser on a computer and construct words at the rate of 15 words per minute.

He said that, as a result of being unable to speak, he spent more and more time in his mind, exploring the expansive questions of the universe and how it works.  Many of his theories have developed in that empty space where once  his voice existed. After the loss of his voice, he finished his most popular work, A Brief History of Time, that has sold over 10 million copies.

Most of us will never be famous and contribute to the world's self-knowledge the way Mr. Hawking does. But, I know that empty space can be a nest for unthought insights to be birthed. Our anxiety about empty spaces often prevent our making new discoveries. But, if we can moderate our fear and wander around in that space, we may discover insights that had eluded us and courage to try something new that we never had time to do when all the space was filled.

WEIGHTY WINTER

Indiana winter this year has been one for the snow lovers--and cold lovers--and sledding lovers. I determined years ago that I would not let weather define my mood or what I do. Life is too short to let things I can do nothing about control how I live my life or how I feel about life.

But, I have to admit, this winter has been pretty weighty. The sub-zero weather that follows snow storms has secured the snow in permanent piles beside our driveway. Those who live in our city without adequate shelter have struggled to not only stay warm but, in too many cases, to stay alive. Those who are waiting through the winter of their soul find a companion in the weather even as they ache for a sign of new life emerging. The ubiquitous light of the media simply reminds us of the dark winter freeze.

I don't have answers to how we might speed through to spring. Thaw comes in its own time.  But, I think one way to carry the weight of winter is to partner with others. Reach out to those whom you know and offer them warm hospitality in your home. Share a hot cup of care by sending someone a greeting.  Light a candle in the cold by calling someone whose icy burden weights their soul. Companions may not have answers to weighty questions but they can help you know you are not alone.

And as you companion each other, hold hard to the hope that the snow will melt and that somewhere a sprig of spring will one day emerge. Allow that hope to warm your heart that holds the dark burden of pain and oppressive fear. Remember, under the snow is a seed that, with the warming sun, becomes a rose.

BREATHING SPACE

In the novel, Middlesex by  Jeffrey Eugenides , a young woman has run away from home. She reports that her parents wait by the phone to get word of her, but they are afraid that they might hear that she has died. They are ambivalent about picking up the phone because "ignorance seemed preferable to grief."

There are times in our lives that knowing the truth about an ending is difficult to hear. We need some protection from the truth because once we know that loss is real, we have to grieve.  And grieving is hard.  It takes lots of work and exhausts us.  Learning to live without someone or something that has been important to our self-understanding requires attention and internal negotiation to determine how to live a new way.

Sanctuary is important. Each of us has to deal with the truth in our own time and our own way.  Denial may not be a healthy way to deal with endings, but it can be a safe place to retreat to at times. To consider all the implications of a significant loss takes time and strength. We need spaces in our lives when we can breath and rest.  The unrelenting truth of loss can wear us down unless we have space where we can rest and renew our strength.

If you know someone who struggles to deal with the end of the way the world was, be graceful with them. Know that sometimes they need to just be held and not wrestle with reality all the time. Be a sanctuary for them and allow your presence to be a sabbath space.  They will return to the struggle with truth when they have the strength.