Simple Things or Things Simply?
In situations that are surrounded by difficulty it makes one realize that it truly is the simple things in life that bring us joy. A Sunday morning unhurried breakfast, an afternoon without scheduled activities, a chat with family or friends, a cup of something enjoyed without pain or distracted discomfort, a walk through the garden in the early day sunlight. A good meal cherished with favorite people. A stroll on the beach.
This last year I listened to an audiobook entitled the More Beautiful Question. It discusses at length the power of good questions. I realize that when I am in a place of pain I get more and more like a Jewish Rabbi, answering questions with questions.
Questions do hold a greater power than answers because they have the capacity for holding, as Richard Rohr would say, liminal, or "in between" space. In other words, questions hold on to the space between what is and what is yet to come. They force us to look at possibility instead of settling for what is.
Right now, a lot of what IS in my life isn't very pretty or nice. It is a place of waiting, (not always bad) and pain and suffering, (rarely entered into with enthusiasm) and just, well, unpleasantness, (never fun). I'm a real pragmatist and yet I am also a visionary. I love to contemplate what COULD be but I always have a foot stuck in the reality of now. I tend to want to be off to the next thing maybe because it is hard for me not to be discouraged by where I stand in the moment. This is, after all, how we seek to improve and take our work on to the next level.
So as I look forward to the next thing, I hope for brighter days with greater levity. Lord knows there has been a heaviness to life in the "just now" that creates weariness of mind, body and soul. I am aware that in this current place I have been forced to narrow my view to that which decreases complexity. Simplicity is a necessary thing when in pain because it narrows focus to what can be tolerated, and in a world plagued by complexity it is one of the gifts of cancer.
All of this to say, however, that it is easy to fall into a trap of asking simplistic questions, like...why must I go through this? What did I do that has made this needful in my life? What could I have done to prevent this? I suppose these questions are natural ones to help us avoid future pain, yet I recognize these are questions that hold a lot of futility instead of the joy of possibility. They are questions that betray a desire to get it right, to have things under control and to be able to put everything into neat categories. Maybe...
A More Beautiful Question is...
How might I bring the simplicity and clarity of this cancer experience into the future of what is yet to be? These are NOT simple questions, yet they ask me to preserve the simpler way of seeing my life. Simpler not in black and white paradigms, but simpler in being comfortable with the ever widening grey of life. Simpler in being more trusting, not needing to know all the answers. Simpler in recognizing that the rest of a child is surrendering into the arms of their trusted parent who may not have all the answers but who knows and cares for and loves them.
At this moment I am seeking to trust that God will restore the "years the locusts have eaten" and in this trusting place, remember that God chose to rest on Sabbath in an example of restoration and rest and recreation. May my life reflect that simpler reality, even if my Sabbath has been somewhat forced upon me, instead of one I walked into with joyful anticipation.