Thursday, April 17, 2014

Working and Walking on Holy Thursday

Greetings, Dear Ones,

Tuesday and Thursday are my "dissertation days."  They have been for quite a while now, and I look forward to having regular, dedicated time to write up my thoughts and researches on three wild and wooly saints of the early medieval period in Wales, Ireland, and Anglo-Saxon England.  I sat down this morning with great hopes of giving the chapter on Cuthbert a thorough once-over for grammar, flow, and accurate footnotes before sending it off to my faculty supervisors.  It was, however, not to be.  Writing two days a week in discrete blocks  like this has left me with a very choppy manuscript. After a while it became clear that this chapter would not be heading anywhere for at least another week.

Sigh. I had so hoped.... Realizing that this relieved some of my self-induced stress, however, allowed me to look out the window with new eyes.  A surprise snowfall yesterday had left many of us in New Hampshire worried that Spring had abandoned us far too soon.  But today most of the snow and ice was already gone, and the outdoors was beckoning.


I left my cat comfortably curled up on the sofa, put on a few layers, and headed two miles uphill to a small lake.  The air still carried a chill, but the light was clear and promising.  The dirt road was alternately hard-packed or soft and rutted.  Not good for driving, but not bad for walking.  I passed the newly-shed skin of a small snake, and heard the rush of the Lane River as it softly thundered down the hill.  Several birds were singing happily, among them a hungry woodpecker.  The lake itself is still mostly ice-covered, but it's thin now, and the ice fishermen's huts have been gone for a couple of weeks now.  There were even a few delicate ferns, and the heads of a few brave daylilies standing on the south sides of the gentle slopes on the side of the road.


My favorite sight, though, was the birch tree near the lake.  It was covered with papery golden leaves, still holding tight from last fall, rustling softly in the breeze.  I was reminded of Tolkein's description of the mallorn trees of Lothlorien, trees whose leaves turn gold in the fall but do not drop until spring when the new green leaves are ready to come out.  There is indeed something magical about the arrival of spring here in the north, something that is able to support one's faith in the emergence of Life out of the most difficult of Deaths.

As a Christian, I use the word "magical" very gently here.  Perhaps better to say "mystical," or "other-worldly," although the quality I'm thinking of is available to non-mystics, too, and very much of this world.  The word I like best is "holy," as in "whole," and "wholesome," and "holistic."  This energy that calls forth Life when all seems to have failed is an energy of wholeness and completeness far greater than anything else I know. It is what I pray to, and call God.  It is what I strive for in my work, and call Service.  It is what I believe is the core of reality, and call Truth.

Perhaps on this Holy Thursday, it is better to walk than to work, to pray than to write, to be than to do.  Perhaps on this day one can appreciate the presence of that Life that transcends suffering, and know it as Love.

Blessings, Beth

3 comments:

  1. Wish I could have joined you on your walk, Beth! A blessed Easter to you and Charlie. ~ Jan

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Jan. Easter blessings to you and Marty as well.

      Delete
  2. Beth, I am sorry it took me a couple of weeks to get back to this (hard to read blogs from the smart phone!) but glad I finally did. It is nice to share the mystical sense of Easter. Much love, Megan

    ReplyDelete