For many people, the question is how we find the healthy spirit within us--that spark of hope and courage. Jesus said, The thief comes to maim and destroy; I have come that you might have life and have it more abundantly.
There is something that seems determined to enslave and diminish the spirit in us crying out to be recognized and acknowledged. The world, the devil, evil---who knows exactly what it is that seems to want to destroy the good, the energy, the life that is in us?
Poetry, art, music, nature, good friends, and religion all seem to have the power to engage the spirit buried so deeply within us. All touch us in ways that we cannot express. I recall being in Sicily once for ten days. I did not know how to process the combination of beauty, the quality of light on the water and in the sky, and history---the lives of ages past. On the last day, as we drove for hours across rolling fields of growing crops, having just visiting an ancient Roman villa preserved all these years by an earthquake which had buried the house and art, I wept silently. Something had touched my soul, but I did not know what it was or how to deal with the movement within.
Evil wounds us along our paths, and the soul defends itself against the wounding by covering up so that it can no longer connect with God, the Source of Life; as we cannot connect with God, we can no longer connect with our deepest selves---and as we lose ourselves, we cannot connect with other people. Jesus said, What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?
Hell must be the total loss of connection to God, to the center of our own personhood, and to others; it must be a loss of connection to beauty, to the earth, to the lessons of history, to art and to music and poetry.
So how do we keep ourselves alive, creative, energetic, whole? How do we nourish the spirit within us?
I am currently taking an art class, but discovering that what touches my soul is not the painting I am doing but the teacher leading the class---a wounded healer. This man tried to drop out of school in the 11th grade because he felt like a failure. The beautiful spirit within him was crushed because he could not read. He did not recognize the sounds connected to the letters and lived in fear every day of derision from teachers and the other students. Fortunately, when he applied for the army, the recruiter told him it would be best if he first finished high school. As he exited the recruiting office, his school principal "happened" to be passing by and saw him. On discovering the situation, the principal promised to speak to all of the teachers. From that day on, no teacher called on him to read out loud, and much to his surprise at a reunion many years later, he found out that none of his classmates had ever realized that he could not read.
Surviving high school, he went on to work and later on in life "happened" to run into a man teaching art. He became a disciple, watching every movement of the brush and listening to every word of the teacher. As the teacher became too old to continue teaching, he asked this student to take over the class. Now, this man who could not read in high school paints, does beautiful sculptures in bronze, woodcarvings, and who knows what else? He teaches scores of beginners like me without making us feel inferior for the simple works we produce---indeed, his encouragement makes us believe we are doing well, no matter what.
More importantly, his own suffering has led him to connect with a high school boy who is failing and who is discouraged by failure. This man takes him fishing on a regular basis, helping the young boy to connect with beauty and life rather than with demands and expectations.
To paint, to play music, to sing, to write poetry or prose, to be able to find comfort and solace in nature, to find and touch the energy of one's own soul---and thereby to connect with those who are searching to do the same---this is life!
Someone who spent much of her life in mental institutions wrote this:
Our true natures are bled out of us by some religious teachings, by terrifying family experiences, and the pain of mental illness. [But] we are not just pieces of damaged psyches. When you get rid of the toxic material many of us have carried from our early experiences, the majestic spirit can emerge.
Rainer Marie Rilke wrote a poem called "God Speaks to Each One of Us," in which he said
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Where is the "me" in each one of us? Where is the alive, strong, resilient, spiritual, energy? How can we find and nourish that part of us? How can we live and not die every day of our lives? Where is the place of safety that allows our majestic spirits to emerge?
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