Thursday, August 31, 2006 at 12:12am
Longing for you
Column: Our Place in the Universe
I was sitting in church last Sunday and I had a moment's experience of longing for God. Do you remember that song in Hello Dolly, "It Only Takes a Moment"? It was less than a minute, less than a second — it was a moment. A moment was all it took to get caught up in a love that was larger than a lifetime.
Nothing special was being said or done that Sunday morning. I imagine it was one of those "moments of grace" that are offered to us to grab, to appreciate, to recognize. Like a stray sunbeam in a dark forest, or a brief shower on a scorching day — it is too easy to overlook, to forget or not be grateful for. So I decided to write about it.
"One moment of your breath/Holds the emptiness of eternity/And I find the Beloved in the space/Between our lips"
I'm not the only one to feel this moment of intensity. It has been recorded by others throughout history:
"A man and a woman sit near each other; as they breathe they feed someone we do not know,/someone we know of, whom we have never seen." — Robert Bly
Are we aware anymore that we long for God? Is He in our dreams the way He is in the hearts and dreams of King David or Rumi, Julian of Norwich or even Leonard Cohen? Do we define "spirituality" as the longing for God in our lives? Do we have the same vehemence in longing for anything, not just passionately, for passion is observable around us, but with a long-term commitment, that is not so evident in our daily lives?
Longing, thirsting, pouring out my soul — passionate to say the least, these words are full of the power and emotion that will see this separation rescinded. What are our deepest longings and desires? And how do we keep these longings, surrounded by the pain and turmoil of this world, of misunderstanding or accusation, alive in the presence of the moment?
I just noticed this morning that it is darker at 6 a.m. than it was last week. Interesting, isn't it, that we all acknowledge the "dark night of the soul." Our mid-life crises are at the forefront of our thoughts and actions to placate and ease our discomfort with physical and material pleasures.
Do we remember our true longings though? How deep do we go? We are used to instant gratification, and value that's meant to last until the next model or update is ready, or until love wears away.
"The flood it is gathering/Soon it will move/Across every valley/Against every roof
The body will drown/And the soul will break loose/I write all this down/But I don't have the proof." — Leonard Cohen "Book of Longing"
I believe that in our deepest heart and soul we all long for love, for the divinity of love, the divinity in love. We long to be loved — for the vulnerability that love brings. The imagery is in our minds. It is in the ecstasy of two lovers throwing themselves at each other after an agonizing separation, the desperation of a mother frantically searching for her child.
"Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love me." Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops. Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language, what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?" — Rumi
There is no agenda there, no manipulation, no hidden plan, only the desire to be open to love and to be loved. I expressed it this way:
"My heart has broken open/The pieces are lying on the floor for all to see/Your breath ignites each one/As the air is consumed around me/Making it necessary to breathe You in/Even more."
This longing: one more thing my original nature is struggling to recall.
"As a hart longs for flowing streams, so longs my soul for Thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God . . . These things I remember as I pour out my soul." — Psalms 42:1-4
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a freelance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Anne E. Ulvestad
— — —
ReligionAndSpirituality.com is a big tent for all expressions
of faith and spirituality, neither excluding nor favoring any.
All opinions expressed belong to the writer alone, and are
not necessarily shared by ReligionAndSpirituality.com.
Nothing special was being said or done that Sunday morning. I imagine it was one of those "moments of grace" that are offered to us to grab, to appreciate, to recognize. Like a stray sunbeam in a dark forest, or a brief shower on a scorching day — it is too easy to overlook, to forget or not be grateful for. So I decided to write about it.
"One moment of your breath/Holds the emptiness of eternity/And I find the Beloved in the space/Between our lips"
I'm not the only one to feel this moment of intensity. It has been recorded by others throughout history:
"A man and a woman sit near each other; as they breathe they feed someone we do not know,/someone we know of, whom we have never seen." — Robert Bly
Are we aware anymore that we long for God? Is He in our dreams the way He is in the hearts and dreams of King David or Rumi, Julian of Norwich or even Leonard Cohen? Do we define "spirituality" as the longing for God in our lives? Do we have the same vehemence in longing for anything, not just passionately, for passion is observable around us, but with a long-term commitment, that is not so evident in our daily lives?
Longing, thirsting, pouring out my soul — passionate to say the least, these words are full of the power and emotion that will see this separation rescinded. What are our deepest longings and desires? And how do we keep these longings, surrounded by the pain and turmoil of this world, of misunderstanding or accusation, alive in the presence of the moment?
I just noticed this morning that it is darker at 6 a.m. than it was last week. Interesting, isn't it, that we all acknowledge the "dark night of the soul." Our mid-life crises are at the forefront of our thoughts and actions to placate and ease our discomfort with physical and material pleasures.
Do we remember our true longings though? How deep do we go? We are used to instant gratification, and value that's meant to last until the next model or update is ready, or until love wears away.
"The flood it is gathering/Soon it will move/Across every valley/Against every roof
The body will drown/And the soul will break loose/I write all this down/But I don't have the proof." — Leonard Cohen "Book of Longing"
I believe that in our deepest heart and soul we all long for love, for the divinity of love, the divinity in love. We long to be loved — for the vulnerability that love brings. The imagery is in our minds. It is in the ecstasy of two lovers throwing themselves at each other after an agonizing separation, the desperation of a mother frantically searching for her child.
"Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love me." Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops. Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language, what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?" — Rumi
There is no agenda there, no manipulation, no hidden plan, only the desire to be open to love and to be loved. I expressed it this way:
"My heart has broken open/The pieces are lying on the floor for all to see/Your breath ignites each one/As the air is consumed around me/Making it necessary to breathe You in/Even more."
This longing: one more thing my original nature is struggling to recall.
"As a hart longs for flowing streams, so longs my soul for Thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God . . . These things I remember as I pour out my soul." — Psalms 42:1-4
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a freelance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Anne E. Ulvestad
ReligionAndSpirituality.com is a big tent for all expressions
of faith and spirituality, neither excluding nor favoring any.
All opinions expressed belong to the writer alone, and are
not necessarily shared by ReligionAndSpirituality.com.