I have been working with a small group of people online, a laboratory in which we are discovering what genuine connection is, how we can be in authentic community.
I’ve been noticing, for many years, how our tendencies to isolate create suffering and alienation. It seems like a natural and instinctive thing--when I am in pain I want to ‘curl up alone and lick my wounds,’ as one person in this community put it.
Part of this response can be a natural movement to find our own space. But a great deal of the time, this curling up, this movement of withdrawal, only serves to perpetuate the belief that I need to protect and defend a fragile and fixed identity.
A man who lives in Belgium spoke to me about this a while ago. “I can’t live with myself anymore, running away like this,” he said. “I am going to find the courage to stand here, as I am. I think I am withdrawing because of fear. But it’s really the other way around. I am afraid because I have withdrawn, and made myself separate. ”
So one of our commitments, in our small community, has been to stay present, to stay connected, even when it is difficult. To work with the impulse to move away, instead of going along with it.
I had an experience last week that was a great blessing for me. It was so strong and such good news, that I was hesitant to share it. It’s strange isn’t it, when we are reluctant to share the goodness that comes to us.
Then I read this quote by Annie Dillard:
“Spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for later . . . give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now.
Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. The impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you.”
I often refer to this as the ‘reaching-out movement of the heart.’ It’s so natural in all of us, and then we learn to stifle it, to hold back, to be careful, to sit and wait.
So I’m not going to wait any longer. I’ll share with you right now, the goodness that came to me: