I have neglected my inner life. I know this because I have an increased longing to be in nature and I have a fidgety, niggling feeling that I can only describe as ‘divine discontent.’ I know that change is in the wind, I’m just not sure that I am quite ready to leap into the unknown.
A friend suggested I read Raynor Winn’s ‘The Salt Path.’ She knows me well – I devoured the book. I marvelled at Winn’s resilience and trust in simply walking, putting one foot in front of the other until the path revealed itself. Since then I have read her other two books. I have been deeply moved by them all.
I have long harboured a desire to walk the Camino but now I am wavering. I have watched footage of hordes of people on this ancient track and I doubt I will find the peace I long for walking with thousands of others. It has lost its appeal. Maybe I need to find my own way, my own path to tread.
In her second book, ‘The Wild Silence’, Winn mentions the venerable Celtic concept of a ‘thin place.’ This is a place where the membrane between the ordinary and spiritual world becomes translucent, and we can touch the ultimate, even if only for a moment. It is a place where it is possible to lose oneself and find oneself at the same time.
Maslow called these moments ‘peak experiences’ and puts them at the top of the hierarchy of human needs. According to him, they play an important role in self-actualisation. He describes them as moments of pure joy and elation that stand out from the everyday where we experience a heightened sense of awe.
I realise that given my preoccupation with work, finances and plans for the future, I am not open to perceive thin places, should they choose to reveal themselves to me. Before that can happen, I have to get out of my head and be present to the here and now. I need to experience the earth under my feet, the air I inhale, and the space around and within me.
Lately, I have been drawn to interviews with Brother David Steindl-Rast, Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, and Thich Nhat Hanh. I feel that each of these great spiritual leaders have spoken to me directly over the years. I am not at all surprised that they knew each other and that they have been in inter-faith dialogue for years. Using the language of their own tradition, they too speak of the thin places where the sacred and profane meet and there is a momentary dissolution of the self and a sense of universal belonging. It all makes sense. And so I leave you to ponder Brother David’s words: ‘The mystic is not a special kind of human being, but every human being is a special kind of mystic.’
From Quill to Quote 