(written on 5, June)
A young woman met
me on the path I was running the other morning. It is on rare
occasion that I meet other people running at the same time as I am,
and even more novel for it to be another woman. We were running in
opposite directions, heading towards each other, and as the distance
between us closed she turned and waited until I was beside her so
that we might run together. Within a few strides we were in sync and
we just ran. Not a word was spoken between us. I wondered for how
long we would share the path before she would split away in different
direction. Generally I run alone so that my thoughts may wander
freely without being filled with concern for another person's needs
but this time I was grateful for company on the path. We reached my
turning point so I thanked her for the run. She only looked at me
with a blank face and then turned to continue running with me. We
ran for another five minutes then she simply stopped and turned back,
leaving us to go our separate ways.
So often this
happens to us in life! We meet someone whom we are not looking for
nor expect to find, they join us on our journey in life maybe as a
co-worker, a teammate, a roommate or a spiritual partner... we don't know how long
they will remain in our lives. We don't know for how long we will
share the same path. But how important is the length of our shared
journey? If it is God (or however it is you identify the Greater
Being) that connects us to others why must we try to overstep the
Mystery that is at work between us by trying to know and predict
everything? The people who enter our lives are there as they are.
We can meet them as they are on the path or we can wish they were
further ahead or behind us, as if we are in a race and they either
the competition that pushes us to go further or the slower runners
that make us feel better about our own ability to run. We can demand
to hear answers to questions that even they are not sure of, or we
can be companions sharing a sacred silence that is heavy with the
contemplations and reflections on the lives that we are living.
As this Easter
seasons draws to an end I find myself reflecting on the forty years
the Israelites spent wandering in the desert looking for an
experience of God. From time to time we all find ourselves in a
spiritual desert. A desert where we wander alone, seeking refuge in
the oasis of support given by friends and family only when we need
it, and only when we choose to stop and rest from the exhausting heat
of the sun or from the torments of our self-depleting thoughts.
In the days
preceding Easter my community traveled to Moshi in Northern Tanzania
on a retreat for personal reflection and to engage in dialogue to
improve our community life. Living in community requires us to
become conscious of how our actions and words impact others and it
teaches us to practice forgiveness -of others and ourselves- when we
fail to live up to the expectations we set. I read some of the work
of Thomas Merton while on retreat and was really struck by his
insight on community life and solitary life. Merton compares
solitary life to desert life, a life filled with despair and a
wandering that can drive us mad. Sometimes, he says, we are drawn to
this desert to find something more meaningful in life. This happens
especially when our lives with others become very complicated. He
writes, “Do not feel to solitude from the community. Find God
first in the community, then He will lead you to solitude.”
How often do we
flee to the desert to get away from whatever problems are around us?
We don't want to deal with a disrespectful co-worker, an
unpredictable boss or an over-active roommate and we escape into a
solitary life within the desert. We tell ourselves we can go on
alone, without these people or others to share the joys and agonies
of life's experiences. Sometime we convince ourselves that we are
more spiritual and holy when we are in the desert because we think we
are alone with God. But are we not, in fact, just alone with
ourselves? When the Israelites escaped the desert they rejoiced-
they were at least free from the torments and trials of wandering
alone in their suffering, they were reunited with friends and
families, enemies and strangers, and they were happy. Being in the
presence of others was the greatest reward.
Though our lives
may be riddled with troubles like working through a conflict with a
friend, finding meaning in our work, or learning how to live with our
imperfections, retreating to a desert will not bring us the peace we
seek- and I am witnessing the truth of this in the people I am
working with. Tanzania is a communal society which means that
individuals work together to benefit the community first, and as a
result individual lives are improved. In our school community the
faculty and staff support each other when there is an illness, death,
birth, or wedding within the community; at lunch the teaching and
non-teaching staff sit and eat together; on sports days our netball
and soccer teams are made up of workers from the kitchen staff,
faculty members, and administration. The community spirit is
certainly not perfect and it is well-known that we can improve our
collaborations with each other, but I think the foundation for this
living and learning from each other is there, now we need to nurture
it and let it blossom into something beautiful.
In the same way we
must nurture the complicated relationships in our lives. We must
will ourselves to meet others as they are on the path and be grateful
for however the relationship is in that moment, without trying to
predict what will come of the relationships or how it will end. It
is in this way we will find ourselves in solitude, or the peace that
allows us to be calm and patient. In solitude we will find it
possible to go on the path without knowing when the person will go
her own way. If we choose the solitary path in the desert and
retreat to the oasis of community support only when we desire it, we
will find ourselves in the deepest dunes without any oases in sight
when we are most spiritually tired and thirsty. The young woman on
my running path reminds me that if we go with others and embrace them
as they are, for however long they are with us, we will find it is
easier to forgive ourselves for our own failings and the path on
which we are going will be less lonesome, even if for only five
minutes.
