one star.....

The hunger to belong is at the heart of our nature. Cut off from others, we atrophy and turn in on ourselves. Mostly we do not need to make issue of belonging; when we belong, we take it for granted. Merely to be excluded or to sense rejection hurts. When we become isolated we are prone to being damaged; our minds lose their flexibility and natural kindness. We become vulnerable to fear and negativity. A sense of belonging, however suggests warmth, understanding and embrace. The ancient and eternal values of human life -- truth, unity, goodness, justice, beauty and love -- are all statements of true belonging.

Our hunger to belong is the longing to bridge the gulf that exists between isolation and intimacy. Distance awakens longing; closeness is belonging. Everyone longs for intimacy and dreams of a nest of belonging in which one is embraced, seen and loved. Something within us cries out for belonging. We can have all the world has to offer in terms of status, achievement and possessions, yet without a true sense of belonging, our lives feel empty and pointless. Like the tree that puts roots deep into the clay, each of us needs the anchor of belonging in order to bend with the storms and continue towards the light. Like the ocean that returns each time to the shore, a sense of belonging liberates us and empowers us to trust fully the rhythm of loss and longing. Like a welcoming circle of friendship, it also shelters us from the loneliness of life. Furthermore, when we belong, we have and outside mooring to prevent our minds from falling into the abyss within us. Though we may not reflect too frequently on the vast infinity that surrounds us, such infinity can be threatening; it makes us feel tiny, inconsequential and vulnerable.
John O'Donahue, prologue, Eternal Echoes; Exploring our Hunger to Belong.

Last night, I sat amongst a small group of friends in one of their homes which sits on a hill surrounded by pine and birch, looking down at the unpopulated shoreline of a section of the Saint John river headpond. It was the last gathering before our lives pull us in different directions, before routines rev up into high gear, before the shivering reality of early morning commutes to our work and school destinations have to be faced. We gathered to share a meal...to relax into an uncomplicated mellow conversation where laughter and quiet came freely. It was like a break for the brain. It felt comfortably relaxing like one feels during a massage. There was an inner sense of peace in every one of us. Wrapped up warmly, protected from the biting winter winds, we all felt a lovely sense of belonging within the home cocoon.

The Christmas tree, one cut from the nearby wood still contained its magic....the little white lights on its uniquely stretched limbs reflected beautifully in the window with the dark night lingering behind the glow. From where I was sitting, I could see beyond the treelights' reflection to one bright star out in the night sky. It was so brilliant, so alone and it outshone the sideways moon which seemed to be cloaked in a thin almost sheer muslin of clouds. One alluring star sitting in the east, hanging over the dark horizon winked. I wondered if it was the same guiding light seen by the Magi. It may have been.

I pulled on my coat, tucked my feet back into my boots and headed out onto the porch to get a better view of the solitary twinkling light. It wasnt until I stepped away from the protection of the house while standing on an unsheltered deck 15 feet above the hill, that I realized how bitterly cold and windy it was. It bit through my clothes, and stung my exposed face, the noise surrounded me in a way that made me feel the bite of insignificant vulnerability. The contrast between the quiet warmth belonging amongst friends and the stark isolation surrounded by the wrath of whistling nature was startling. And yet, I was only a couple of feet away from them, still visible, still connected.....my roots planted in the common clay.

I stood beside the outreaching branches of a mature birch tree, one that shades this deck from the summer heat which now stood nakedly majestic.....and I looked up at the star through the tree's bare branches. The wind made the birchskin flap furiously making a rattling old bones noise. The branches scratched each other like nails on a dry skin. Eerie sounds creaked out of the nearby wood, crackling cold amongst the siren lament.

These sounds met my thoughts, which drove me eastward to a place far away from the place where I stood alone. They accompanied my wondering, as I tried to picture the scene unfolding below the same star in a the area where the Magi once journied to acknowledge and to celebrate the birth of a very special baby. I realized this star would not be visible to them from their vantage. This star would be blocked by the violent outpouring raining down on them. No peace in the East. No rest on their land. No reassurance when they peered at their nightsky. Just fear, and bitterly cold harsh anger.

Why? The storied history of the Middle East is a tightly woven complicated strangle which defies my understanding. Resolution and peace seem impossible when surrendering and letting go are marked with the lack of any ability to see beyond one's own interpretation of the history which continues to defiantly unfold below the bright star. Boundaries and borders made up by human beings......fought over with such unrelenting vengeance. I can't imagine it will ever cease. As I stood alone, surrounded by the vastness of my country's unoccupied land, I was left wondering if it all came down to a hunger to belong. Are they fighting for the empowering liberation a sense of belonging provides? Is this the hungry insatiable battlecry?

One star.....millions of eyes gaze at one star......and ask the same question about a place where peace never seems to belong. It echoes a hunger so deep, it's cry penetrates our own.

I stepped back into the fold of my own belonging......crawled up onto a sofa so comfortable and welcoming and fell asleep thinking of the Magi, thinking of the star, feeling for a place where the Prince of Peace was born....and wishing I could bottle my comfort to sprinkle on the souls who know no rest.