Fig Tree

It’s be a long while since I have posted, and I am noticing that my last post was about the coming-to-life fig tree, which is now shedding its leaves like the Whomping Willow in the Harry Potter series. It makes me smile to see, each time. The seasons have continued onward, marching past our fears, doubts, and deep struggles. A long, hard road, friends, a long hard one—as I am sure it has been for you. 

Only this week have my children been able to gain access to the vaccine, for which I find myself utterly grateful and humbled. Generations of humans have grappled with pandemic illness, with disease which we’ve studied and tried our best to overcome—to heal one another. I find myself in a position to help others move toward healing internally inasmuch as any of us need to heal physically from anything at all. I’m equally grateful for the many friends I have in my life dedicating their own to the study of those things which need eradication in our current world: illness; racism; injustice….and certainly more, much more. 

 Jesus himself calls upon the fig tree as our image of consideration, the idea that the vinekeeper maintains hope that the barren one will bear fruit the next year. This hope-filled vision forward is something I pray to have now, even as we condone vigilantism, murder, and turn a blind eye away from every justice issue from the destruction of the earth to the willing participation in activities which tear apart human dignity and uphold violence. We forget easily that the Creator is the one who should deal with the creature, to be sure, but worse, we forget to turn our attention to that One Who Awaits our bearing fruit, who tends to our soil, and gives us the strength to go on, even as we turn a blind eye to this truth. Take care to open yourself up to the truth of dignity for every creature on earth which God surely sees.

Preserving

It’s that time of year when the fig tree in our yard, which has grown exponentially every year since we have lived in this home, really starts showing its fruits. My husband, a tried and true Southerner, is a blur of canning, and loves to make fig preserves and syrups, and I marvel at the intricate process and his obsession with it. Thank God for the greenness of earth, which offers us so much in its simplicity to keep us in tune and interested in creation, grounding us in reality. 

 I thought of this when I realized this week I’d completed my goal of achieving spiritual direction certification, something I’ve been thinking about and working toward since 2016 (perhaps longer even). Now I’m unable to see life, to see humans and their intricacies, in any other way. I find it hard to listen in any other way than with this attention St Ignatius in his 500 year old practice of the Spiritual Exercises has taught me, though I am finding this voice present outside my sphere of religious experience.  I can see the ways becoming attentive and open to God's meaning in our lives yields much fruit. And I have integrated this among many other approaches and tools I have experienced in my life, among them Franciscan, Dominican, and Diocesan communal experiences. In time I’d come to preserve, too, and keep the lessons and allow them to marinate with each other, becoming more flavorful in the process. I trusted that process, and now I am uncanning and savoring fruits long ago planted and flourished. 

 It’s been a rough few months since I last posted, not just for me, but for everyone—I can see and feel this around me. We’re all far more burnt out than perhaps we acknowledge. But I think it only takes a small step away from ourselves, daily, that leads us further into healing and coming closer to our Creator God. Join me in stepping forward, together or alone, preserving as we go along this fire of creativity inside each of us.

Emptying the self

 

To be in a spiritual wilderness is itself a powerful experience, and those who are willing seek to come to terms with that experience have massive steps to take. I’ve felt this wilderness for some time now, and I know you have, too. So many of us have felt the pain of betrayal, loss, and self-doubt in this past year alone. Now, in this time where many of us are transitioning, deciding how to see anew moving forward, how to start fresh in the practice of awareness, is something I think will make or break our world as we enter it.

The beauty in the purification and emptying of self---this alone is a most satisfying and connecting way of prayer and meditation. It can start simple: sit and watch a bird, or some light at your favorite time of day. Listen to the quiet, or the noise, in your house, and fix on what makes it good. Let go some of your expectations and then note how this feels to you. Talk out loud, in any way you like or need, to the One who Created you.

Emptying your self can seem painful initially, but truly, creating space for our encounter with God is everything. We can easily clutter our minds and our spaces—there’s so much to contend with, so remember it won’t happen all at once. Just clear out one little space at a time.