Dear fellow pilgrim,
I arrive on this 11th Day of Christmas empty. Hollowed out by the journey. Are you still with us?
How are you arriving at this day? Like the pilgrim wondering: are we there yet? Do let me know. I would love to hear from you. What has moved your heart, and which stumbling stones did you encounter along the way? Do you need a helping hand? Do write me about your journey.
In our “celebrate Jesus’s birthday” culture it is easy to forget that the journey towards the heart of Christmas isn’t a wellness trip. Indeed it is a pilgrimage. With swollen feet, strained muscles and all. On top of it the ever lurching temptation to just go back home. Birthing the holy does not come easy, and tending to the newborn hope, still vulnerable and in need of daily attention, can be exhausting.
Do not give up just yet, dear friend. We are on a pilgrimage to the heart, and arriving empty is part of the journey.
So let me borrow a consoling image from my wise teachers:
Finding the key inside
The Danish thinker Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) once told a tale of a man rowing out on a lake in the quiet of dusk. The shallow lake lay silent beyond the circles where the oars broke the surface of the water, trickling little droplets of murky water back into the boat. It was then that an oar hit a dark object on the shallow floor of the lake. When the man lifted it out of the water he found himself looking at a little treasure chest. He brushed the water and mud off and tried for some time to open it. When the lid finally gave way he found the key inside.
The Sufi teacher Rumi (1207-1273) tells a similar story about his own journey. Often he felt he was eagerly knocking at a door - still it would not open. Only later did he find he was knocking at the door from inside.
Both images remind us that part of the human journey is a journey inside, to the murky waters of our own beings where the treasure lies.
So it is with the Christmas journey. It starts when Santa goes home and the radio stops playing jingle bells. It knocks at the door of our heart, patiently waiting, if we might find the key to the door.
The mystery of Christmas is that the eternal wants to dwell in us. But we must open the door.
Thus let us come back to the blessing we have started this journey with:
A Blessing for the weary pilgrim
Do not be afraid of the night
for night is when the light shines brightly
do not be afraid of the silence
for it is the silence in which God speaks
do not be afraid of solitude
for it is the openness where Divine grace enters
do not be afraid of the journey
for it is the journey that brings us home -
You are not seeking Christmas, Christmas is seeking you.
AF
And may Christmas find you where you are, Almut
This post is part of our 12 Days of Christmas Series 2021/22: “Always we begin again…”, a Contemplative Journey towards the heart of Christmas. To enter our virtual dwelling place click here. To share your thoughts with us, write us here. We love to hear from you! For personal guidance visit our PathFinder.
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Thank you, thank you.
Peace and Blessings, Almut & Chuck