Forcing Spring
Remarkable in its timing, an old friend, from whom I have not heard in many years, sent me a note ... actually three notes, plus the book Into the Silent Land by Martin Laird. He tells an interesting story of a famous ballerina racked by perfectionism, fear and anger. It ends like this: "She did find solace. She took long walks out on the Yorkshire moors. If she walked long enough, her roiling mind would settle. The expanse of heather was scented balm that soothed the throbbing anger, fear, and pain. She described how on one occasion her anxiety began to drop like layers of scarves. Suddenly, she was aware of being immersed in a sacred presence that upheld her and everything."
"While this experience out on the moors happened only once, it proved a real turning point in her life and drew her into the way of prayer. She knew from her own experience that there was something in her that was deeper than her pain and anxiety and that when the chaos of the mind was quieted, the sense of anguish gave way to a sense of divine presence."
"RS Thomas recounts this sentiment movingly in his poem, "The Moor." "It was like a church to me. I entered it on soft foot, Breath held like a cap in the hand. It was quiet. What God was there made himself felt. Not listened to, in clean colours That brought a moistening of the eye, In movement of the wind over grass." "There were no prayers said. But stillness of the heart's passions - that was praise Enough; and the minds cession Of its kingdom. I walked on, simple and poor, while the air crumbled And broke on me generously as bread."
Inside the front cover of this book, this gift, Shelley wrote, "Refreshing your memory of your vocation." Sometimes unusual things happen that are a gentle, loving but strong blow to the chest.
