Sunday, March 11, 2007

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..........





14 comments:

urbanmonk said...

Wow! Great post A.Transparent and honest. Unflinching. Wrestling. Ironically, the whole prayer thing has been swirling in my mind too the last 24 48 hours.. Understand the frustration with church and brokeness. That is exactly the reason I WONT go to church. Everyone else seems so composed. How can it be that simple?

kenju said...

I think prayer is both of those things, and your tears speak to me of sensitivity and surrender to God more than they do of weakness.

Disillusioned said...

Very honest. Prayer is a biggy for me too, but I would love to reach your stage. For me, there is a fear in even approaching, saying any words to that almighty and all loving entity, because I know my brokenness so well. Who am I to approach? So I admire you for your courage and perseverence in continuing to pray. I don't think you show weakness at all - vulnerability and bravery are the two words which come to mind.

Prerona said...

been having arguments about this with some friends lately. nice to run into someone else who believes in prayer. i do question, but yet i believe
too ... or maybe i just desperately want to?

awareness said...

thanks Monk.....it was my second attempt. I tried on Sat. night but blogger ate my first attempt. I almost gave up on it, but now I'm glad I didn't because I see that my "chords" struck your "chords." Reassuring to know I'm not alone.....I thought I was.

Judy....I agree with you. it's the sensitivity bit that seems so out of balance. I blame it on hormones :)

Caroline.....welcome! It's a whole new territory for me, which I think is the reason behind the big emotions (and hormones too). I figure if I keep at it, I will find the balance. There's just so much feeling stuffed inside me sometimes that it just leaks out of my tear ducts....

ricercar...it was reading Buechner and Nouwen that offered me a different "take" on prayer...that it wasn't so formalized, and that my trepidations about prayer with a congregation are felt by others. I do think prayer happens as Buechner writes......in the moments of celebration and grief and everything in between.

thanks for the comments....much appreciated.....

Shaz said...

Wow you have just described my feelings and actions so perfectly.
I am a little taken back. Its unusual for me to relate so completely to something that is usually very personal for me. All I can say is thanks and well, I hear Ya.
God Bless

Dustin said...

This is a fantastic post. I too have struggled with prayer--how I should go about, should I have any feelings as a result, do I speak too much or too little, does God even hear, what am I getting out of it? I never seem to receive from prayer what I thought I should receive, but then I realize maybe that's God's intent.

I have just recently learned about contemplative prayer through a class at seminary and have become very interested in it. I have yet to try it, as I believe I have not yet trained my mind to focus in such a way. But, I have learned from those who do things such as the lectio divina, that they have been blessed richly as a result.

St. Kevin & the Blackbird said...

Dana, your evocation of the drive - inner and outer terrain - works beautifully in this post. On the prayer thing I would just say that matters of decorum should never deter one from prayer and worship, even formal or communal worship. By all means, my friend, weep. I do. It's why I can't sing the hymns... Jesus wept... Tears are eternally reciprocal...

Bar L. said...

Aware, huge hugs to you, if we were in the same church sitting together we could cause a stir - I often tear up too and I hate it because it disturbs others around me - I just want them to ignore me.

Anyhow, this was beautifully written as always.

Sorry for my lack of comments...been out of sorts lately.

Bar L. said...

PS Praying in the shower is a great idea!

Perplexio said...

Yesterday I went to church for the first time in quite awhile to witness the baptism of a child of close friends of my wife & I.

I was reminded why I stopped going to church...

The whole thing that bothers me about going to church are all the creeds and affirmations... It seems so robotic and devoid of feeling or meaning to me. I enjoy the sermons because they give an interesting perspective into the spirituality of others and how others articulate their relationship with God... But the creeds, the sacraments, etc.... It's all so ritualistic and robotic-- How can organized religion take a message of love so beautiful and pure and strip it of its beauty and purity and replace it with something so routine and robotic?

Maybe I'm selfish in that regard, maybe I find my relationship with God to be something so special I don't like sharing it with others... Or maybe it's more that I believe my relationship with God will be weakened by the act of "sharing" it with others-- at least in that context and setting.

awareness said...

shaz....it's always surprising to realize someone else feels and thinks the same way....I too am surprised by the response to my post. Delighted too. thank you.

hi dustin.....contemplative rather than a more vocal ruminative process seems more comfortable to me, because I can stay in my head. However, I can't do either one well! As far as receiving something.....i'm just trying to learn how to send something....if I ever received something besides a flush of tears, I think I would keel over in surprise!

hi robin.....thank you! the idea obviously came to me during the monotony of the drive, one you are fully aware of yourself. I'm glad it worked. It felt right when I was writing it.
Jesus did weep, didn't He? You too? I'm in good company. :)

layla.....so glad to see your comment! Two soppy messes in one pew! That would be a scary sight, now wouldn't it?

perplexio....there are some rituals I do enjoy, though I know what you mean. A poor service seems contrived and robotic. A good one, with a beautiful sermon and touching hymns, led by a compassionate Minister....well, the rituals and creeds become spiritually enhanced again.

Last year, I had to attend a funeral for a little boy. It was sadder than sad. All of his friends were sitting up at the front with their parents, dressed in their hockey jersies. Everyone there was looking for some comfort, some words from the heart. It didn't happen. The service was straight out of the Book.....with no feeling and no personalization. I was so angry and appalled, and couldn't get over the retentiveness of this Anglican priest. Perhaps he was uncomfortable and broken up inside and this was his way of maintaining control......but I vowed never to set foot in that church again until he retires.

Had to share that story.....it was what came to mind when I read your comments......

Robert said...

very positive dana i am not the least surprised at the reaponse to your post because you touch us all with your honest wrestlings. I find myself crying alot more easily lately, when i see movies or tv shows that ouch me hearing certain songs and praying. I think God is answering my prayer for Him to wrestle with me. I really look forward to more posts like this from you and others because I need to share myself and it really hits me that by being vulnerable and open on here and getting comments we DO achieve community and are building each other up as the body of Christ!!!

awareness said...

thank you robert. your comments are inspiring.

I do believe that sharing a bit of our own vulnerabilities can go a long way.....i see that in the work that I do as well. It "levels the playing field" so to speak, and offers up the message that we are all in this life together.