I appreciate how many sources of inspiration there are in the world if we are aware and pay attention. Of course, that is easy to say, but not always easy to put into practice. We want to pay attention, but we get distracted. We want to pay attention, but we get busy. We would like to pay attention, but we are bored. All of these are very effective to derail our attention. But as long as I want to pay attention, there is hope. I can bring myself back to attention. I do it gently and frequently.
An incident happened recently in class that I hope makes my point. It was an innocent remark in the middle of a less-than-profound discussion. I don’t think I was at my best that particular day trying to lead a class discussion. During the pandemic, we have seen all of our classes move to the online format. I am dearly grateful for the technology that makes that possible, but it also makes me pine for “the good old days” when we would gather in a room and be present to each other. My computer mimics this, but it is not the same.
There is no question that an event like a virus pandemic changes whatever is normal and routine. It did for me, and it has for everyone I know. It has been limiting---I can’t do whatever I want to do. I laugh when I realize I walk farther every day than I drive! I know I have it easy, but I am tempted from time to time to whine---just a little.
In my conversation with the college students, I realize I am not alone. They are feeling similar limits and restrictions. In fact, I can imagine they feel the strictures more keenly than I do. I suspect their social lives are more important and extensive than mine. They are in more of a hurry to get somewhere in life. I am not going any particular place. They are getting ready for a big future. I am trying simply to be present and make this a wonderful day.
It was in the context that one young woman lamented, “I am going insane.” There are a hundred ways to respond to this lament. Or we could ignore it and continue with our own whimpering. Somehow that struck a chord in me. I was touched when I heard those words, “I am going insane.” I am not a psychiatrist nor, probably, even a good psychologist. I was not tempted to analyze her and offer my prescription for getting better. Instead, I let that lament sit with me a moment.
Fortunately, the students are used to a little silence that I so often use. Her lament was genuine, deep and graphic. Her words were likely the words expressing the feelings of many others in that chat room. There was no chorus of “Amen,” but I am sure there could have been. In sitting with her lament, I believe I was inspired in my response to her.
Rather than comment on her plight or tell her to get over it, I simply ask a question. She had said, “I am going insane.” Tenderly I asked her, “where would you like to go?” In the immediate moment, I am not sure she really heard me. I am sure she heard my words and, at one level, understood them. They are simple English words: “where would you like to go?” I began to elaborate. You tell me you are going insane. Where would you like to go?
I think that was a spiritual question and, I hope, a spiritual invitation. I thought about her lament and my question. And then I said to her that I understood her. But I am confident there is a choice for her, and she might be abdicating on choosing. I don’t actually think she was actively going insane---as if she was intentional. More to the point, she was allowing herself to be taken to insanity. Passively, she was letting the current malady in our world to dictate her feelings and reactions.
I hoped I could help her reclaim some control. I wanted her to take back her power of choosing. I told her I was choosing to go to love. Instead of going insane, I am trying each day to go to love. That happens in small ways and seldom are labelled as love. It begins when I handed my money for morning coffee to the man behind the newly installed glass shield at the shop. That little remaining bit of routine for me is one attempt to go sane and do it lovingly.
I hope I kindled some hope in that young woman. I would hope she might choose to go to love, too. It will look differently in her life, in her situation, in her expression. If I can help her become a lover instead of crazy, then she and the world is better off. I am sure if we want to go to love, then the Spirit is present and will bless that effort. It is finally a spiritual thing. Every act of love is spiritual for me.
I don’t have a clue ultimately what she heard or will do with it. I do know my question to her sparked a very interesting discussion. Students are often asked what they want to do with their major or their career or things like that. I am not sure they---or any of us---take enough time to answer for ourselves, where do you want to go.
As I think my way more fully into this question, I realize it a lifetime quest---answering that question. I am wanting to go to love---today and every day of my life.
An incident happened recently in class that I hope makes my point. It was an innocent remark in the middle of a less-than-profound discussion. I don’t think I was at my best that particular day trying to lead a class discussion. During the pandemic, we have seen all of our classes move to the online format. I am dearly grateful for the technology that makes that possible, but it also makes me pine for “the good old days” when we would gather in a room and be present to each other. My computer mimics this, but it is not the same.
There is no question that an event like a virus pandemic changes whatever is normal and routine. It did for me, and it has for everyone I know. It has been limiting---I can’t do whatever I want to do. I laugh when I realize I walk farther every day than I drive! I know I have it easy, but I am tempted from time to time to whine---just a little.
In my conversation with the college students, I realize I am not alone. They are feeling similar limits and restrictions. In fact, I can imagine they feel the strictures more keenly than I do. I suspect their social lives are more important and extensive than mine. They are in more of a hurry to get somewhere in life. I am not going any particular place. They are getting ready for a big future. I am trying simply to be present and make this a wonderful day.
It was in the context that one young woman lamented, “I am going insane.” There are a hundred ways to respond to this lament. Or we could ignore it and continue with our own whimpering. Somehow that struck a chord in me. I was touched when I heard those words, “I am going insane.” I am not a psychiatrist nor, probably, even a good psychologist. I was not tempted to analyze her and offer my prescription for getting better. Instead, I let that lament sit with me a moment.
Fortunately, the students are used to a little silence that I so often use. Her lament was genuine, deep and graphic. Her words were likely the words expressing the feelings of many others in that chat room. There was no chorus of “Amen,” but I am sure there could have been. In sitting with her lament, I believe I was inspired in my response to her.
Rather than comment on her plight or tell her to get over it, I simply ask a question. She had said, “I am going insane.” Tenderly I asked her, “where would you like to go?” In the immediate moment, I am not sure she really heard me. I am sure she heard my words and, at one level, understood them. They are simple English words: “where would you like to go?” I began to elaborate. You tell me you are going insane. Where would you like to go?
I think that was a spiritual question and, I hope, a spiritual invitation. I thought about her lament and my question. And then I said to her that I understood her. But I am confident there is a choice for her, and she might be abdicating on choosing. I don’t actually think she was actively going insane---as if she was intentional. More to the point, she was allowing herself to be taken to insanity. Passively, she was letting the current malady in our world to dictate her feelings and reactions.
I hoped I could help her reclaim some control. I wanted her to take back her power of choosing. I told her I was choosing to go to love. Instead of going insane, I am trying each day to go to love. That happens in small ways and seldom are labelled as love. It begins when I handed my money for morning coffee to the man behind the newly installed glass shield at the shop. That little remaining bit of routine for me is one attempt to go sane and do it lovingly.
I hope I kindled some hope in that young woman. I would hope she might choose to go to love, too. It will look differently in her life, in her situation, in her expression. If I can help her become a lover instead of crazy, then she and the world is better off. I am sure if we want to go to love, then the Spirit is present and will bless that effort. It is finally a spiritual thing. Every act of love is spiritual for me.
I don’t have a clue ultimately what she heard or will do with it. I do know my question to her sparked a very interesting discussion. Students are often asked what they want to do with their major or their career or things like that. I am not sure they---or any of us---take enough time to answer for ourselves, where do you want to go.
As I think my way more fully into this question, I realize it a lifetime quest---answering that question. I am wanting to go to love---today and every day of my life.
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