Inner Experiment Day 8: Space for Connection
Writing this as the sky turns pink through the bare branches in the backyard. Today was the winter solstice; tomorrow the days will begin growing longer again. Fascinating to ponder that the light is growing even as we in the northern hemisphere enter into the coldest time of year….and the hard and seemingly desolate ground hides innumerable seeds that will begin stirring far beneath the surface in just 6 weeks or so. Beautiful metaphors for life. Nothing is ever as it appears on the surface; we need to dig a little deeper to understand the true meaning.
This inner experiment has invited me to dig deeper into my life and the rewards are already bountiful. What an important reminder that surface level living is like fast food….seems to meet a need yet offers nothing of real value. In my day to day life I have often stuffed myself on information only to leave my soul starving for nourishment.
Last night to mark the approaching solstice we turned off all the lights and I sat with David, Maddie and Bridget for 3 hours in the family room in the glow of a fire and a multitude of candles. When was the last time we all sat and talked, just talked, for 30 minutes, much less 3 hours? It was delicious. Everyone but me was skeptical of the idea and yet within a few minutes we were talking about favorite Christmases and memories of our Dads (David and I both have fathers living on the other side of the veil). Maddie reminisced about the riding toy Santa brought when she was 3 and Bridget talked with excitement about dressing up as an angel this week for Christmas Eve mass. Later Maddie started teaching Bridget some clapping games and they were laughing together, all the enmity of the afternoon forgotten.
None of this would have happened had we reverted to our regular evening routine. And today the sweetness of that connection lingers, reminding me that human connection requires slowing down and making space. Nothing is so urgent, no task more important than a shared memory or a laugh between sisters. These spontaneous joys cannot be manufactured. Yet we can create a container for them to happen by cutting out the seemingly urgent yet ultimately empty distractions that pull us away from the real meaning of the holy days, and of life: Finding the Divine in another face. Remembering who we are.
The sun is saying farewell and the sky is now a deep rosy wash.
It looks like compassion to me.
Peace of this longest night to you,
Kimberly Schneider
www.facebook.com/kimberlyvschneider
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