This true inner self must be drawn up like a jewel from the bottom of the sea. Thomas Merton from “New Seed for Contemplation”
It is October and the memories of last year are seeping in as the boys leave again for college. The youngest left on Saturday and the older brother will be tomorrow. Their company during the first six months of the pandemic has lifted me up. Kept me hopeful. They are smart and sensitive to the world and its needs. I am grateful for their place in my life. I know in my head they need to get on with their lives, still my heart remains wanting them to fill those spaces in me that want to nurture. Tending to my own soul seems unnatural.
I have appreciated again the ponderings from Joyce Rupp in her book “Dear Heart, Come Home”. The image of the tree and its roots calls to me. What are those roots that gave me foundation as I lived that first half of life? Those attitudes and beliefs that I held that help form me as a mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter and nurse. Pastor.
What do I discard? Get rid of that don’t suit me anymore. Those beliefs that I thought were so important. Now in my second half and then some, find new roots shooting out and taking hold in me.
Looking at each of these roots. Or, the treasures on the floor of the sea takes time. It isn’t done quickly or with ease. It is first finding each root. Pushing away the soil. Seeing the depth and thickness of each cool extension. Looking at how necessary these fingers are to living.
The past two summers I have been digging up my front garden. Taking out old shrubs the first owner planted that are now looking uncomfortable. Some are dying and some not looking like they want to be part of this space that is meant to welcome. I was digging out the final shrub later this summer and found that my shovel could not break through one of its roots. Pushing away the dirt, I discovered it was not a root of the shrub but of the birch tree a few feet away. It had twisted around the base of the plant I was ridding. Hoping not to damage the tree that provided shade for the house, I carefully broke the root away, freeing what was dying and giving space for more life.
I was who I needed to be in my twenties, thirties and even forties. Creating a home, developing a craft, raising and caring for my family were all essential. Now it is shedding those identities or skins as Rupp likes to say to reveal who is the true self. I know it’s not letting go of all of it, just what helps the journey to be wonderfully full. What keeps me going, doing this digging is the belief that I am coming back to myself. The many wise people ahead of me have revealed that this is important and life giving work. This time is tender and sweet and in it brings myself to the world as God created me to be.
