Ahh, the unforgettable words of Scarlett O’Hara as she lies crying on the stairs after Rhett’s departure.
I am not thinking about losses right now. Instead I am trying to just focus on my work at school, and my relationship with God. I am waiting for the results of the Cargoes competition, even though I don’t think I will win it, I wanted to see if I would even get in.
I met my new Spiritual Director yesterday and it was a relief to unburden myself of all the experiences I have been carrying around for the last year. Just somewhere safe to talk about my “moments of zen” for lack of a better word when I experience something out of the ordinary. When God seems to reach out and tip up my chin to speak to me.
We read Kafka’s journal for English and I really appreciated it. I sympathized with him because right now and into the future looks like a long lonely road where no one will ever understand my experience and any chance I take at sharing it could result in rejection. I feel very wounded by my last meaningful relationship. I am trying not to take it as an indicator of how futile it is to try and fully share with another human being. I want to live in hope that one day I will have someone to love that will be strong enough and man enough for me. I say that semi-sarcastically, though it does seem that I am stronger than almost, if not every man I meet. It’s hard not to lose respect for them. Once respect has fallen, love is sure to follow…dissipating into a fine half-remembered mist.
Lately I have been listening to sermons and recordings of some Christian education classes I took at the National Cathedral. Sam Lloyd was my rector at Trinity Copley in Boston and now he is the Dean of the National Cathedral. In one class he was going over the differences between Agape and Adakia love. I was reminded of this by the CS Lewis class that I am currently taking at church. In any case, Dean Lloyd started talking about this poem he wanted to share with us. It was written by CS Lewis as he was losing his wife of 3 years to cancer. Love came late to his life and at this point he was considered one of the most famous Christians in Christandom. So it’s all the more revelatory that he writes this poem after achieving some recognition and is famous for his Christian-ness.
As the Ruin Falls
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love –a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek–
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.
C S Lewis
I just keep thinking of that poem. I wonder how far I can make it out of my proper skin.
Then there is this little gem, which I trust will be less and less true as day follows day or as soon as I see my daughter again.
by W. S. Merwin
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
The girl next to me reeks of cigarette smoke, I am in the small niche just outside the classroom in Dana typing away and the smell is so pervasive it is driving me away.
Let me print my chili recipe for tomorrow’s Horizon chili-cook off and my list of the teachers I am to call at my daughter’s command.
How much of what hurts in me is really missing her?
Maybe more than I can admit or face and hope to continue on this path.