Momentum.
Light has streamed in — somehow heavy and physical. A squeeze of the hand, a comforting pressure. Like your grandpa gently holding yours in both of his. Smiles in his eyes. Fullness has been building in my heart since I opened up to the will of God — and by grace, accepted what followed.
How do I illustrate such a metaphysical experience? This is an awareness of love — fierce, yet tender and personal. And on second thought, it is also physical, piercing all dimensions. My nervous system: calmer. Health struggles: lessening. Peace of soul: restored. Not perfection, but undeniable correction. Setting things back to the way they’re meant to be by running to the source.
I always craved some kind of ‘order’ but went about it alone with a lust for control, searching in the wrong places, and misunderstanding what I really need. Obsession proved utterly ineffective. My tenacious insistence on figuring everything out on my own only landed me in a pit. Until the ego had been dethroned by my own choosing, I was simultaneously a brutal, unforgiving captor of my soul and a slave to whim.
“The self-absorbed man will glimpse nothing but reflections of himself in the waters of reality, but the self-giving man, the man taken out of himself and plunged into the charity of the Trinity, will let things have their own light and delight. A man without the spiritual beauty of temperance will be too blinded by his passions to perceive the many-splendoured thing; he will tend, for example, to see the body, not as a sacrament, the expressive incarnation of the spiritual soul and thus of the person but as a machine for obtaining pleasure. ”
[The Beauty of Holiness and The Holiness of Beauty]
I told mom many evenings ago, “I just want to be where I can do the most good.” And although the intention surprised me as it left my lips, I meant it with all my soul. And after years of neverending planning-starting-falling cycles, I knew the way to pursue this outward-focused purpose had to be spectacularly different than weary self-absorbed patterns encouraged by the culture around me. Choosing to start at sunrise and lead to brighter light, rather than limping to a faded twilight only to fall in the night.
So, how have things changed? Overwhelmingly, I feel serenity in silent moments now instead of discomfort. I feel a bit more patient. I feel less alone. I feel stability after a period of intense internal battle. My intentional surrender led to real receptivity of all the good freely offered — accompanied by an unquenchable desire to know the one who gifted it (and continues to). It’s like the more time you spend with a person aglow with the spirit, the more at home you are. Lifting veils. Searching each other’s souls. Finding communion.
Yet, imagine a person entirely without flaws — divinity as a human you can interact with — purely charitable, never disappointing, never distracted, the ideal friend. When I began to contemplate this reality seriously, I began to really see: it’s no wonder the way [to get to know God] is [by getting to know] Christ — He is Love in human form — Love we might recognize by its similar form. He told us:
“If you know me, then you will know my Father also.”
[Jn 14:7]
My heart’s magnetism for love is fueling an intense joy of learning — especially through beauty and reason. I’m finding the expansive intellectual tradition of the Catholic Church to be an absolute treasure trove of glittering revelations. A particulary impressive place to dig. These brighter minds like older siblings guiding me through the fruits of their contemplation. How grateful I am! How much wiser they are!
And then! —there’s even the resonating poetry folded into the pages of scripture like Song of Songs:
“O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the cliff,
let me see your face, let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.”
[Song 2:14]
Even within some secular music, vulnerable artists paint their ponders within their lyrics through metaphor, prose, composition, and imagery. I appreciate a slightly veiled verse and I love when it expresses a slice of something I have been experiencing spiritually.
“I'm tearing everything in my view, pushing everything off the tables
Tearing everything right off the walls, might look unstable but at least
After everything has come down, I might have a chance at relief
Maybe then I'll make something new…”
[Nowhere to Hide | Absolutely]
Connection for me here: Pursuing truth through simplicity. Stripping away all the unnecessary, temporal, distracting junk — like cutting through a thick, wooded forest, clearing a way through thorns, branches and vines to reach a quiet little pond. With the ego dethroned, I finally have a chance at finding peace.
Before, I was craving such specificity: an idealized future with ‘this and that’ at ‘this age’ with ‘this person’ and ‘these conditions’ within ‘this environment.’ How could I not end up disappointed? Then suddenly, there I was, being stripped of what I’d been clinging to (only partly by choice). I almost wanted to rebel before it was too late, but something encouraged me to loosen my grip rather than tighten. I listened… and in a way, it was oddly relieving. I felt the weight lift. The pressure to keep striving for whatever society’s current idea of ‘the life you should want’ dissipated.
Something is changing on an abyssal level, something which was dormant before. I do my best to properly express, but I suppose I must accept the unavoidable muddling of meaning. The swan I describe may appear a feather in your eyes — and that’s just how it is sometimes. Just picture me as I write these reflections with a joyful smile lingering, head tipped to the side with ‘ponderment’, wondering, “How can I receive more to give more? I am here for you. Your friend on this journey.
Con affetto,
Solée
Three songs for you this time! : ) Enjoy the variation.
