Sunday, June 28, 2009

And Then, On the Other Hand, and the Other Hand

I spent some time after church this morning talking to a friend there who also lost a 24-year-old son to suicide, on Christmas day seven and one-half years ago. I mentioned the plethora of baby showers, bridal showers, weddings, etc. in our lives this year, and she said that she has two family weddings this fall.

"It's getting easier," she said.

Almost eight years and it's "getting easier."

But then . . .

I just got a call from another friend at church inviting me to come and speak to her women's group next winter (!) on labyrinths. I love to talk about labyrinths. I love to pray on labyrinth walks. I love the giant labyrinth at Chartres and I love the tiny indoor labyrinth in our church.

And I am completely amazed that people still remember that I am a person with certain passions, and that they are still interested in having me speak to them.

Five weeks from approximately right now I will be arriving at the Jesuit retreat center at Guelph, where two years ago the Chartres-sized labyrinth mown into the grass enticed me out under a full moon for an hour's prayer at midnight.

I'm starting to look forward to it.

A new sensation.

Loyola House Labyrinth, Guelph ON


Karen and Joe said...

I don't know if the pain goes away, or if we just get better at bearing the load, like a weight-lifter whose muscles get stronger with increasing weight. I am glad you have allowed yourself to go to your retreat and also to speak on labyrinths--it's a good sign of faith, hope, and a resilient spirit.
Blessings on you.

Michelle said...

I just noticed these last two posts are both about "bodied" things, the embodiment of grief, the embodied way of praying that walking a labyrinth is.

I had never walked one until I took a group of students to walk the one at the college (we did a set of evenings on contemplative practices -- trying different things). Having one told my spiritual director I prayed with my feet, I should not have been surprised to find it a contemplative experience.

I'm glad that there are somethings to look forward to.

Carol said...

Today's post brought a smile to my face because I hear just a small glimmer of one coming from you.

Stratoz said...

I am filled with joy that you and I will be doing silent retreats this summer... good for us!

Ruth Hull Chatlien said...

I am glad that you find yourself looking forward to this.

I've wanted to walk a labyrinth for a long time but have never taken the trouble to find out where one nearby is.