Walking the dog just now, I realized that I am saved--one way or another, I'm saved, ok, acceptable, just fine. You might imagine that I write this blog because I know that, because I know something about spirituality. On the contrary, I write this blog because I don't know that.
Earlier in the day, for example, my mind was running its tapes about how I'm to blame for my husband's bad decisions, for my mom's lack of love, for anything that my kids have done badly, even for my dog being off her feed today. Then, out of the blue, as I was walking outside, I remembered, "I'm saved." I'm saved even if I could be blamed for anything I named. I'm saved even if I have done far worse things.
What does that mean: saved. Perhaps it means forgiven as Christians believe, or perhaps it means acceptably unfolding in a more Buddhist interpretation. I read an essay today by Eric Wilson called "The Miracle in Melancholia" (something like that). It claims that we, Americans, are addicted to happiness and that we've forgotten that the greatest gifts and miracles come from our darkest moments.
That's a truth that I know. My best writing, best blogs, most creative moments come from going into the darkness (Wendell Berry). Wilson wasn't saying that happiness doesn't bring any gifts just that in only wanting THOSE gifts, we miss the miracles composting within all the shit (the sacred shit, remember?).
So, I'm remembering the voluminous creativity of being in love. Love poems fall from the soul, pour onto the page. Both sides of our experiences, in would seem, yield enormous crops even if some seem more bitter than sweet.
The salvation of today is about being at neither extreme. Sometimes we're on automatic pilot, sleep-walking, numb. At those times, the muses and miracles seem far away. Isn't it strange to think of being in the middle as "sleep walking?" Isn't "in the middle" where we are most of the time? We're not usually in chaos or in bliss; we're in the relentless routine of everyday. That's when we may most need saving. Roxie
The minister at my church (The Center for Spiritual Enlightenment, San Jose, CA) said on Sunday that part of enlightenment was knowing that in every moment of joy existed a tiny drop of sorrow and in every moment of sorrow existed a tiny drop of joy. Maybe it seems hokey, but it hit home. Cheers! Kelly
ReplyDeleteI'm liking what your minister said; even more, I'm liking the name of your church! Is it a one-of-a-kind or are there others across the country? Best, Roxie
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