Although I am some weeks away from beginning my three month period of silence, I am already learning some important things in anticipation. Reactivating the blog I began during the pandemic quarantine brought me the first, second, and third painful lesson.
First, when I started this particular blog two years ago, Karan, a dear friend and graphic artist, offered to help set up a most professional looking and beautiful blog site out of the goodness of her heart. I was most grateful, yet soon learned that though I love to learn from others, I like to do things for myself. But because she was so generous and excited for me, I didn’t know how to tell her. In fact, she is only learning this as I write. Not knowing how to gracefully decline or accept the help I needed (becoming more of a Mainer as I live here), I became overwhelmed and just ghosted the project…and sadly, my friend. A terrible thing to do. It also ended my project before it began, another big price to pay for my hardheadedness. Karan, I am sorry.
Next lesson. I seem to have a love/hate relationship with words. Is this a common trait of writers? I am fighting with them all the time. When I decided to resurrect this blog, I wanted to change its name. (Now, Karan could have told me immediately that this was the name of my “domain” and I couldn’t simply type in a substitute!) “Dwelling in Presence” began to feel too heavy, too pretentious, too something. I would go with something simpler like “Keeping Silence” or “Longing for God.” With a “How to start a Blog” book in hand, I tried to begin a new one thinking it would cancel out the older one. Well, it doesn’t. And now I have an extra hundred dollars on my credit card and “Deepening into Silence” is out there somewhere in the blogosphere. I can’t find it. All of this because I started fighting with my original words.
Of course, I spent hours trying to remedy the situation. I’ve learned that these “how to” books for beginners or non-techies like me never answer the actual questions you have. And perhaps this is my final lesson for today – never try to go it alone when the universe brings you a kind expert willing to help! After all these years in ministry during which I often preached that we need one another and that our lives lived in love are always give and take, you’d think I would have gotten the message.
FROM MY READING THIS WEEK:
“One’s inward journey oes not begin with a question or a hope – but a stillness. Not a destination, not a knowing – but an unknowing. A ceasing to strive. One does not begin to know themselves with a fiery passion – but a quiet stillness. Cassidy Hall, from Notes in Silence, p. 12.
Dwelling in Presence 