I want to go soon and live away by the pond, where I shall hear only the wind whispering among the reeds. It will be a success if I shall leave myself behind. - Henry David Thoreau
This Wednesday, I watched "A Thin Place: Iona and the Celtic Way" with John and Madelyn. We are going to co-facilitate a two-part forum based on this video, which is available through the Episcopal Media Center.
Iona is an Scottish island which many consider a "thin place", where earth and heaven meet. On this island is a monastery which was founded in the 600s by St Columba.
Any time spent with John is interesting. John is Pam's special friend; something like romance, but even more (as I understand it). Now, I've made no secret in this space that I'd like to be Pam's special friend (at least in the romantic sense). When I see John, I feel jealous. It's not green-eyed rage, and I pray there are no outward signs, but it's there.
John began to get on my nerves even before I recognized his special relationship with Pam. He's a hearty fellow well-met, who has never met a stranger. This may seem a good thing, and there are times I admire this quality. But it often feels phony. He's a salesman by trade, and sometimes his extroversion seems like a function of his trade.
John and I are very different people. We aren't precisely opposites, but we are different enough that I'm aware of it. Every time I'm in a position to work with him, I have to focus on the transaction or goal, rather than my feelings. It's not easy, and it's often a struggle.
So, when I see John, I'm reminded that I'm human.
The video is about 25 minutes long, but it packs in a lot of thought-provoking information (or reflections) on Celtic spirituality. It's narrated by Vivienne Hall and Danny Martin. At one point, Mr. Martin says that 'thin places' upset you, push you to a greater focus. "One doesn't go to a thin place for a Disneyland experience."
I immediately remembered a story Madelyn has shared about visiting Iona. She went with a group last summer. They went to the monastery. In the manner of many pilgrims before them, they went to the stone where tradition says St Columba stood to say goodbye to Ireland. The path to this stone is a fairly healthy climb. As one gets closer to the stone, one is confronted by midges.
Midges are similar to gnats, except they bite. They reportedly have a piercing bite.
There's certainly a humorous irony in the story of going to have this grand religious experience in a foreign land and being confronted by tiny biting insects.
Madelyn also said that she felt very much at home at Iona. But she also felt lonely. Others have reported a similar reaction.
What does Thoreau mean when he talks about leaving himself behind? We know that his experiment in the woods was not quite as severe as Walden might lead us to believe. Henry could go to Emerson's house about a mile down the road any time things got too tough. But going to his cabin in the woods did force Thoreau to confront himself in a new way.
The journey to the wilderness forces us to boil things to essentials. It forces us to confront the self, or personality, that we have constructed in order to "get by" in the world of commerce. We are given a space in which to consider whether that is who we really are, or even who we want to be. It gives us the opportunity to consider whether we will be imprisoned by others' rules and expectations.
"I must create my own system," said William Blake, "or be a slave to another man's"
The wilderness can focus our attention on whether our public personae is strong enough to face life's midges.
In the video, Danny Martin says, "The basic imperitive is to become yourself."
Perhaps we find our true self when we leave the public personae behind. Perhaps a light is shone on the false parts of ourselves - which is to say, the parts we don't like to acknowledge - when we find ourselves in uncomfortable places.
We don't have to go to Scotland to seek midges, or thin places. Sometimes the thin place is a close as the gentleman sitting on the sofa catty-corner to you.
Sometimes the thin place is as close as your own breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment