Connected While Apart
In Balance — The Center Holds
I wish you had three dimensional glasses with which to view this photo.There are two layers of web. The front web is in chaotic, tattered pieces. The well defined back web, a spiral wheel-shaped web is the work of an orb-weaver spider. I paused in this spot at Belmont Harbor for a handful of photos. his is the only one into which a rainbow made its way, symbol of hope and promise.
Dear Mayfield,
This summer just over has been filled with spider webs for me. So often invisible, I tend to spot them in the early morning when the sun is rising while the webs hold a bit of overnight moisture. I was quite taken by these two webs, one superimposed over the other. They greeted me Sunday morning, about a day and a half after the announcement of the death of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. After my initial shock and sadness at the news and my gratitude for all she accomplished for the rest of us, I found myself filled with a determination to stand and challenge the intense chaos that has been crafted around all of the struggles we face at the moment.
The combined loss of John Lewis and Ruth Bader Ginsburg this summer is deeply felt. They were both consistently passionate about the justice issues in which hey centered their lives and through which they served with diligence, thoroughness, and respect for others of varied opinions and circumstances. They did not contribute to the chaos that has become so fashionable in our national life, leaving us with a sense of little firm or stable ground on which to stand. They were reliable, and we always knew that. We learned with them about keeping our balance. The great opportunity of this day of the Autumn Equinox is the opportunity to be in balance and to offer balance. John and Ruth remind me of the center of a labyrinth. In the labyrinth world, you commonly hear that the center holds whether you are at the beginning or the end of your walk, headed in or on the return outward, close to the center, out at the edge, or somewhere inbetween. John and Ruth, as people of balance, occupied part of the center that holds even today in the midst of all of the difficulties we face and the chaos swirling around that makes whatever is difficult even harder.
Their deaths encourage us to consider how we step up to help the center hold or the web of life that binds us persevere. What are our values and how do we reliably put them into practice for the balance and wellbeing of our lives, for the health of the communities of which we are apart, and for the continuance of the largest expression of wholeness in which we find ourselves? This question is worth our attention and consideration in these uncertain and chaotic times. It’s not quickly answered.
In the Christian community as well as in other traditions, many of us identify love of neighbor, a wide embrace of neighbor, at the center. And we solidify that center by remembering how deeply we belong to every thing and every one of the earth, by our willingness to listen beyond the edges of what we alone want, by the generosity of our co-creative energy unleashed in the world, and by our entrance into our experiences of loss without striking out at others. None of this is simple or easy. It was ours to do with John and Ruth, and it is still ours to do in their absence.
The rainbow forms an arc at the bottom of the web photo just in case all we see are the chaotic fragments of the front web. The rainbow contains the web behind that is intact, that is given to us to maintain and enhance with deep love of neighbor and understanding of the power of what we do, what we say, and what we bring into being. The rainbow is a colorful invitation to be the steadying balance rather than the dangerous chaos in these troubling times. Together as that balance we can become hope beyond ourselves, part of the stabilizing center, just as John and Ruth did. On this rich day of Equinox, let us grow into the balance needed right now.
Several hours after I finished the initial draft of this web note yesterday, I received an email from Richard Rohr, noted Fransican teacher, writer, and retreat leader. Relying on sources other than spider webs and John Lewis and Ruth Bader Ginsburg, he too considered the center that holds and included this beautiful quote from Etty Hillesum, a young Jewish woman who died in a concentration camp in 1943.
There is a really deep well inside me. And in it
dwells God. Sometimes I am there, too…And that
is all we can manage these days and also all that
really matters: that we safeguard that little piece of
You, God, in ourselves.
Rohr suggests several practices we might take up in these tense months to keep our feet in that center that holds, “that little piece of…God in ourselves.” He encourages us to be diligent in limiting the amount of time we spend absorbing the same news over and over. Instead, we might use that saved time for public service or prayer. To his suggestions I would add the use of that saved time for a creative endeavor, large or small. These are practices to maintain our balance or as Rohr writes: “You have much to gain now and nothing to lose. Nothing at all. And the world–with you as a stable center–has nothing to lose. And everything to gain.”
Blessings and Peace, Martha
Reminder: The third in a series of Mayfield Nature Talks, “If You Plant It, They Will Come…Gardening for the Birds,” will be presented on Zoom by Peggy, at 6:30 pm this Thursday, September 24, at 6:30 pm. Zoom connection information will be emailed to you later this week. Hope you can join us.