"See the pine trees and learn their lesson," a friend once said. "Pine trees are nature's reminder that growth continues even in the winter."
*Melody Beattie. Journey to the Heart.
My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength manifests wholly in [your] weakness.
*Jesus, in II Corinthians 12.9
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"Do you suffer like the rest of us?" she asked the Sage. "Yes, I may even suffer more than some of you, for I am in touch with suffering the way many are not. Yet, I rarely become the suffering. The challenge is to grow so one does not become suffering while not trying to transcend it. Then, deep compassion can arise."
*Brian K. Wilcox. "Meetings with an Anonymous Sage."
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Our fundamental nature is evergreen. Our innate self is, as Hindus refer to Spirit, SatChitAnanda: Being Consciousness Bliss. We are not suffering, adversity, fear, and pain. Winter does not reside in our essence, and neither does any season. Seasons come and go; we do not. We are seasonless.
Like the pine, all trees, and all beings, we, in our relativity, go through seasons of body-and-mind. As spirit, we manifest in a world of matter subject to various causes and conditions and, therefore, changes of season. We can shift from happiness to grief instantly, for example, or from admiration to jealousy. Sometimes, we might look forward to sleep to escape our feelings and dread waking up to face them again. Likely, most of us have had times when we did not want to get out of bed.
Some of us can recall a time when we did not know whether we wanted to live or not, or maybe we did not want to. I am one of those latter. Thankfully, we are still here on this earth - the storm passed, and we love this our life now. We grew in wisdom and compassion from hitting bottom. The dead of winter passed, and we have never returned to that degree of pain.
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We are evergreen, yet feelings and thoughts can be otherwise. Hence, the middle way is to acknowledge we have a sense of self, and though relative, it can get stuck right in a cold, lonely, and depressing winter - winter without, yes, but the inner climate winter, too. However, knowing we are not what we are feeling but that untouched by feelings can open up a fresh way of relating to living in this body and world. We learn better how to take care of that part that is hurting, how to kindly and gently love it, and how to have self-compassion rather than judging ourselves for being human among other humans.
Some of you, like I was, were not taught to accept your inner suffering kindly. Many males were raised to think boys and men being sensitive was a weakness, while females were seen to be able to express their suffering. We males, therefore, were trained to repress any sign of weakness. We found it threatening to be around others suffering and join them in it with compassion. That repression, however, is a condition for weakness. Hence, many adult men are emotional children. Yet, this does not exclude that many adult women are, too. Rather than repression, we can see weakness is in strength, and strength is in weakness - they are one, not two.
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Here, in Maine, we are coming to the end of winter, though we will still get some wintery weather and possibly some snow. Having come from Florida, the Sunshine State, where we had one frigid month - February - that is warm compared to the Northeast here, I have learned winter can become depressing even to persons of a cheerful disposition. Finally, after five winters, I got a therapy lamp, for I was experiencing depression in the winter due to the lack of sunlight.
I do enjoy the winters. Yet, after six winters here, the prior five in which I did not want winter to end, I am looking forward much to this spring and the return of the sunlight, the birds, and warmth. Put simply, I have had enough of winter for now, and so have most living here - and in many other wintry places, too.
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Winter is a metaphor for a season of our lives, one we pass through and often unexpected. Some words for this winter season are illness, pain, suffering, dark, dreary, sad, irritable, depressing, grief, loss, and death. Yet, winter is not always separate from other seasons. Each season is in all seasons. We may experience, for example, a mixture of winter and spring, yet one season is ascendant at any one time.
Many years ago, I read a book where the writer, Walter Bruggemann, in The Psalms, spoke of this flow of seasons. He called the phases orientation, disorientation, and new orientation. Orientation is a time of calm and stability. Disorientation is when, so to speak, things are shaken up. We no longer feel the stability. We may lose the former sense of safety and peace. We may feel threatened. New orientation is the move out of disorientation. Here, one feels uplifted. One may feel great relief, surprise, and excitement. This newness settles soon into the calmer orientation.
Spiritual contemplatives integrate more of the orientation. They can sense it even during their wintry days. Yet, no amount of spiritual growth can protect one from some degree of suffering. A wisdom path teaches one how skillfully to live and work with all life experiences. The learning continues.
I have been on a contemplative path for nearly three decades, and I have moments when life experience seems to overwhelm me and disable all I have learned in those years through the teachings and practice. Nonetheless, when I look at my life overall, I see I am a more joyful, thankful, and caring being due to the practice. I suffer much less and get past the suffering more easily and sooner. A real, often subtle, sense of orientation almost always rests within the darker days. If that is lost, I return to it more quickly than before.
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This season of winter, or disorientation, touches our whole being and relationships, for we are a wholeness. In our innate harmony, a sickness in body affects us emotionally and spiritually. If I receive a terminal diagnosis, everyone about me will be touched by that. There is no such thing as private suffering or private joy. We live in atmospheres created by the experiences of those about us. We are responsible to hold and take care of each other's suffering.
Spirituality is a means of teaching us how to relate to wintery times. Wise teachings remind us how we handle adversity affects others, for example. The more wisely I can relate to winter, the more likely my presence will be edifying and encouraging to others. This wisdom includes how well we can be honest about the wintry we are undergoing.
Denial of adversity is not being honest. Yet, being attached to the wintry and not being able to see spring coming is not healthy. Spring is in winter. So, the frequently said "This too shall pass" is true. We can fully embrace winter while keeping spring in our heart. We can hold all seasons within us. Beattie writes, "Cherish the hope that lies beneath the snow."
Hence, the seasons are signs. As so much in nature, there are lessons there. We need only listen.
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Now, if we are in the season of spring, say April, would it be wise not to accept that? Would one be wise to try to make December into July? Hence, a key sacred practice is acceptance. We can work to cheer ourselves up and heal, but that needs to happen from the posture of a kind, gentle, and graceful acceptance of ourselves in the present.
We can relieve the winter by seeing others are experiencing the same season. You may be in physical pain. You are not alone? Again, we are never alone. This insight can awaken within us compassion toward others and ourselves. Pain can have a way of closing us in on ourselves. We need a way to work with pain so as not to end up an island to ourselves - an island to our pain.
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Some of you may have read on this site how early in meditation practice, in the mid-90s, joy arose in me. This joy surprised me. Many causes and conditions had led to my life being somewhat joyless. Through this arising, I could see I - and anyone - can become attached to joylessness.
We can become accustomed to wintry experiences and feelings and live in denial of uplifting ones. We may not even know we are living in persistent denial. We may not see how we are sabotaging the blooming of the positive seeds within us, how we are cultivating the seeds of negativity. Something within me was saying, "You don't deserve to be a joyful being. You must keep suffering," and this is like saying, "Spring is not for you. You must remain in winter." Well, joy arose, and I began watering that seed.
We can always water the seeds of love, joy, and peace. Those seeds are inherently within us. You may be sad today, and how can you cheer yourself up? You may be grieving a loss, and how can you practice gratitude? You may feel lonely, and you can write to, meet with, or call a friend. You may feel alienated from God and find a quiet place to pray, listen to music, and read something inspirational. You can feel unloved and choose to volunteer to help those in need in your local community.
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See, we can light a candle in the darkness. When we light a candle, that light will shine for others. We empower ourselves, through grace, to act upon the innate qualities that provide us an uplifting refuge. We can be fully human, accepting life can be challenging emotionally, affecting our entire lives; yet, we can learn to work with wintriness in ways that better our lives, so better the lives of others. Living mindfully, aware of what is going on within and about us can be central in this process.
Last, how does the Jesus quote above relate to this posting - "my strength manifests wholly in [your] weakness"? Well, there is a nugget of wisdom there. Somehow, weakness can relax us - when we do not resist it - and open us up to the infinite inflow of grace - we could call this divine enabling. Through our weakness and its attendant experience of grace, we grow to be more human, so more attuned to our interbeing with all beings. And love arises.
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*(C) Brian K. Wilcox, 2024. Permission is given to use photographs and writings with credit given to the copyright owner.
*Brian's book is An Ache for Union: Poems on Oneness with God through Love. The book is a collection of poems Brian wrote based on wisdom traditions, predominantly Christian, Buddhist, and Sufi, with extensive notes on the poetry's teachings and imagery.
