This morning I woke to light snowfall and thought, “Oh no, here we go again.” Two days ago it was gorgeous: blue skies, temperatures in the 60s, robins hopping around outside. Daffodil shoots have been brave enough to poke up new buds, and snowdrops have been blooming for a while now, despite the snow still hidden in the shadowy woods. Two days ago, there was reasonable hope that this long, cold winter was over. Today, it’s cold and blustery. I needed mittens and a hat and scarf on my walk and was grateful to get indoors again.
Hope and despair, light and shadow, warmth and chill, all in the course of such a short period of time. It’s all part of the whole.
It’s like that with my spiritual life as well. Some days I think I’ve discovered spiritual insight and that it’ll be clear sailing from here on. Other days, I rail and rant against the minor inconveniences of life, the indignities of getting older. There are days when I feel compassion for everyone I meet, and other days when my judging self has something critical to say about everything. Much as I’d like to think I’ve found the spiritual path, it’s not always straightforward.
What helps with the ebb and flow is my Wellspring group and the constant reminder that spiritual practice matters. Spiritual practice doesn’t mean I’ll ever be perfect. “That’s why they call it practice,” said some wise writer.
Just as I have complete faith that spring will come eventually, even with all the fits and starts, even with the return of blustery weather, I also have faith that my spiritual life is richer for being multi-dimensional. It allows me to hold both the easy calm and the more turbulent parts of life.
It’s all part of the whole, and I am grateful.