tears in the way.........

Georges Seurat, Forest at Pontaubert

Comtemplative prayer where one reaches a point of meditative flow, where awareness of outside stimuli fades into the background like a Serat painting seems out of my reach. I try but I can't seem to get beyond the welling of feelings. Yesterday, was spent driving through three provinces of grey affect. This time of year, during the transition of the seasons, the landscape is a stark portrait of worn abandonment. Trees stand side by side, their gnarled limbs nakedly twisted, alone in the elements. Without the leaves, without the blossoms, even the trees seem to stand vulnerably detached from the rest of nature. The windows on the buildings, the machinery in the fields, the barns and houses and steeples seem to be covered in a pallor of grey grit. Colour has drained out of the scenery. We passed several deer along the highway in search of food to keep them going until the first signs of spring greenery will fill their hungry bellies. The cold rain continued to fall all day long as we forged eastward. Inside our moving van, we all huddled into our own head spaces in order to push through the long tedious drive. It's so different driving distances at this time of the year because you can't pull over to a "rest area" on the side of the highway for a romp or a picnic. Rather, the only break in the action is when you stop at a gas station for a quick repreive before setting out again. Earlier in the day, we interacted, played music, talked about our excitement of looking for a puppy this spring, talked about the upcoming week back at school and work. But, after a bunch of hours, the music continued but the chatter stopped. There was a chance for silent thought. In the very back of the van, I spread out comfortably and watched the world go by while the kids slept. Henri Nouwen's suggestion of praying when and where you can came to mind as did the words of Frederick Buechner - "We may be praying whether we think of what we are doing as prayer or not. The odd silence we fall into when something beautiful is happening, or something very good or very bad. The stammer of joy at someone else's joy. Whatever words or sounds we use when sighing over our own lives. These are all prayers in their own way." So, I pulled out the words of a prayer I keep in my wallet and began to recite them to myself... Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood, as to understand......... As I tried to focus on the words, to find a meditative flow, I could feel a flush of tears begin to swell up inside me. I don't even know where they come from, but as is often the case, when I make a concerted attempt at prayer, I end up crying. doubt and faith despair and hope darkness and light sadness and joy flooded with it all..........and all of a sudden lost in a myriad of shame and guilt, or trying to figure out where I may have gone wrong with a friend, or why families can be so difficult, or whether I'm just a fraud, or whether this life is all we've got and eternity is a big joke. I try to pray when I can, because I figure if I keep at it, I won't end up so teary. Lately, I realized that one of the reasons why I don't go to church is because I'm not able to control the waterworks. It's embarrassing because it happens so freely when I am sitting in a pew listening to a sermon or a hymn......I end up sniffling and dabbing while everyone around me seems to be able to keep their composure. I don't want to feel so out of control, but I can't seem to stop them. It's fine to feel vulnerable, to address one's own brokenness but does it always have to produce tears??? I try to pray when I can so that I can possibly find Guidance to answer some of my questions, and yet I never seem to get to the end of the prayer in one piece. Isn't prayer supposed to be uplifting or it is supposed to be a way to bleed feelings? So, as I watched the grey washed backdrop flow by I stopped the formal prayer and sat in the puddle of my own thoughts..........a prayer on it's own, like Buechner suggests. I don't know where it got me. Maybe I should just pray in the shower..........