I thought I was losing what little mind I had left. Three
mornings this week I walked down to the stable to find Shirley standing in the
door of the donkey stall. Usually I put her up at night in the stall and leave
Kate outside. If I put them both in together, they spend much of the night
kicking each other and walking in circles. With Shirley in the stall, Kate stays
close by and the problem of all night binge eating is solved… until this week.
Routine is both
savior and hobgoblin for my mind. If I do the same thing the same way every
time, I begin to forget whether I have actually done it or not. So I blamed
Shirley’s freedom on my absentmindedness until it happened three days in a row.
Yesterday, a Eureka moment, I realized Kate had learned a new trick… how to
lift the door latch and set Shirley free!
Old donkeys and old women can still learn and what a surprise that is!
Like Kate, I have been learning some new lessons this
season. Cleaning out my closet for summer has become a metaphor for my life as
I age. Bag after bag of clothing, loved in its time, culled from shelves and
hangers, is on its way to a thrift shop. Some of the clothes I kept are old and
have meaning beyond covering my body… old overalls, dresses worn to childrens’
weddings, my favorite jeans, a sweater my great-aunt Polly knitted for me… and
some just no longer look good on me or I have tired of them. My closet is still
full and there is no shortage of choices, but choosing is less complicated when
I can see what my choices are.
One of the great gifts of aging for those who choose to
welcome the gift, is the exploration of wisdom that comes as we begin to clean
out the closets of our lives. We make choices about what has meaning, what
suits us, what is no longer necessary, what to keep and what to let go of. I am
making choices based on the reality of my limits, not the endless possibilities
of youth, and it is exhilarating. Much like Kate learning to set her mother
Shirley free, I am learning to set myself free from old patterns and once
valuable restraints.
My reading this week has been a book, Wisdom Jesus, written
by Cynthia Bourgeault. One paragraph
highlighted a closet keeper of mine, tears. “At any rate, I have often
suspected that the most profound product of this world is tears…I mean that
tears express that vulnerability in which we can endure having our heart broken
and go right on loving. In the tears flows a sweetness not of our own making,
which has been known in our tradition as the Divine Mercy. Our jagged and
hard-edged earth plane is the realm in which this mercy is the most deeply,
excruciatingly, and beautifully released. That’s our business down here. That’s
what we’re here for.” One does justice, an action. Mercy, the gift I experience
most fully in my relationship with God, is undeserved love and compassion
accompanied frequently by tears in the midst of jagged and hard-edged times.
Have mercy on me, God whom I love, as I clean out the
clutter that keeps me from seeing you more clearly, loving you more dearly. I
am a creature of habit and sometimes my habits keep me in the stall where it is
safe and comfortable. Set me free, Lord, to be mercy for myself and mercy for
others, your faithful daughter in loving kindness. And if I cry, Lord, at odd
times, help me see my tears as your sweetness bubbling up and over. Thank you
for all the ways you are present in my life, seen and unseen.
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