Spiritual Things Matter

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me an invincible summer. ~Albert Camus

Due to the recent loss in our family, I have contemplated once more the meaning of pain and suffering that we as humans so often experience. No one wants to suffer and none of us want to go through the process of suffering. This process is painful and it is a place of profound loneliness as we face those “winter moments” in our lives.

I have tried to imagine what life would be like if we never had to suffer. And if throughout our lives, everything went exactly the way we wished it would be. If we had all the love, all of the talent and intellectual capacities, if we were all-powerful and had wealth beyond measure, what would we as human beings be like? I wonder as multi-dimensional beings, could we grow, develop and strengthen our inner spiritual selves and our physical and mental well being? Could we comprehend, even in the least, that life is far greater than the meeting of our external physical needs? Would we simply exist in an infantile state only seeking to gratify the next desire?

When a person experiences suffering, the pain can go very deep. Often words can utterly fail us. We would rather find a place to ourselves to shelter us from the voracity of the assailant. Indeed, if we could, we would retreat completely until we have a chance to heal and dry our bitter tears.

“Life is difficult.” This is the first sentence Dr. M. Scott Peck wrote in his ground-breaking book, “The Road Less Traveled.” Dr. Peck gave us the benefit of this work that I would recommend to everyone to read at least once. And so it is….life is difficult and arduous! This is also the first of the “Four Noble Truths”, as taught by Buddha. “Life is suffering.” And yet, something profoundly beautiful can take place in a human life when they experience suffering. It is within their own choice to transform it into something workable and meaningful in and for their own experience. Life on this earth gives us many opportunities to grow and evolve into generous, kind and loving human beings. Not all will chose to go that path but the opportunities are there each and every time we encounter hardship and loss.

Pain and suffering create an inroad into our deeper selves. Kahlil Gibran says it beautifully, “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.” This “understanding,” once realized, is profoundly transformative and provides us with the means to “ground” ourselves in order to find a greater purpose for our lives.

I wish for each of my readers to be strengthened when you go through your own pain. Indeed, pain will come to all of us, without exception. The treasure of God lies within you and it is within you where you will find the wisdom and understanding that you will need. All the strength and fortitude will be there to enable you to live through each painful second. Be not afraid but understand that you are never alone. You will emerge stronger, having learned lessons that could never have been bought for a price. That, I believe, is called, “Grace” and that grace will be your gift!

Gently, I smile as I realize,
The pangs of my pain
The wounds of my sufferings
Are transformed into
A tranquil river of love. ~Viola M. Jaynes

I am a great admirer of Kahlil Gibran’s work. The wisdom and the depth in his writing is profound, beautiful, and moving. One of my all time favorite is out of his book, “The Prophet.” Today, I would like to share it with my dear readers. May it speak to you as tenderly as it always speaks to me. May love awaken us and teach us life’s most valuable secrets.

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
“God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it find you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

~Kahlil Gibran

We cannot do great things on this earth. We can only do small things with great love. ~Mother Teresa

As I looked through my jewelry box to pick out a necklace for the day, I was drawn to my gold, four-leaf clover necklace, which has great meaning for me. In a separate post on this blog called, “Love’s Mysteries,” I wrote how it came about that I acquired such a treasure. Please do read it if you desire to do so.

This little four-leaf gold clover pendant was a gift from a school teacher that I had in the 3rd-6th grade. We shared a special love for each other that could only be felt, but was never spoken of, until separation came. My dear friend is in her seventies now, living alone and I make a point to call her once a week. I could not afford this privilege in my younger years. Our conversations are meaningful, as we have shared many of our deepest thoughts and feelings for life itself. I love her dearly to this day.

As I left my orphanage in Germany to move to America, that pendant was a treasure that I held on to. I had never received a gift such as this, one that truly came from the heart. The emotions that came with it were filled with love, confusion, sadness and tears, and yet I cherished it because it acknowledged my existence on a deeper level to someone. I faced incredibly hard times with the family I came to live with and this pendant represented hope for better days ahead.

My father, whom I had only known for a short time, eventually divorced and left a very abusive and oppressive relationship behind, for which I was all too thankful. Much of the abuse and oppression was directed at me, as it seemed that this woman needed to vent her hate and anger out on someone.

A number of years later, when my father had made an effort to turn his life around and make a commitment to God, he began a new relationship with a lady, of whom I was also very fond. She was a woman minister and perhaps, that is what drew me to her. This relationship was not destined to last very long but as I look back, I took note of this longing that manifested itself in me.

When it looked like that my father and this very nice lady were developing a deeper relationship, I looked at this precious clover pendant and decided to give it as a gift to her. The hope it represented was something I wanted to give to her, as I knew she did not have an easy life herself - or perhaps, it was the hope I had all my life for a mother. I was only 16 years old and I was swept away with ideals and dreams, sentimentality and girlish notions of what it would mean to have a loving mother in my life. Foolishly, without further thought, I sat down and wrote a nice letter, telling her of the story behind this pendant. (Since I had only been speaking English for two years at that point, I wonder how many words I must have misspelled.) I then wrapped it nicely, and presented the gift to her with all the tenderness and love I had in me.

Over the years, I had regretted my short sightedness and wished that I had not given away such a priceless treasure. I had searched for this pendant after I found out that this lady had lost it or perhaps even given it away herself. I have never been able to find one like it and so after my daughter was born, I decided to have another one made. I drew a picture of the original as I had remembered it, and took it to a local jeweler. They did a nice enough job but its delicateness was not captured and of course, its meaning is not the same.

This four-leaf gold clover is a representation, however, of love that I received and love that I gave away. It is a reminder of love that I hoped for all my life and a vivid picture of how love is not packaged in a nice little neat box, but rather it can come to us mysteriously when least expected, suddenly, and in the most unusual ways. Those moments must be cherished as they reveal to us God’s divine hand in our lives. Those moments bring hope and activate faith in us with deep conviction, that life is far greater than what we simply see with our eyes.

As I have gotten older, I reflect on my relationships with women with whom I have come in contact with over the years. I recognize that my relationships with them have often been colored by the absence of a mother in my life and sometimes by my inward, often unconscious yearning for one. I have read a couple of books on “Motherless Daughters” and I wept as I recognized myself on its pages and began to understand myself better. The struggles with fear of rejection and dealing with rejection, from women especially - have been painful to say the least. Insecurities about our place in this world, desires for understanding and recognition, sharing too much, sharing not enough, and forging meaningful relationships, have all been dilemmas and emotions that I have profoundly lived and felt.

I have risen above many of those fears of abandonment and self-pity which I could only do through an honest relationship with God. More often than not, however, I would fall again and again on my knees with so much pain before I could find a clearer inward path for myself, as I would cry out in agony for God to help.

Be it as mother, a sister, a wife, a friend, a daughter, or a co-worker, I believe women have tremendous power in their lives. I think this power, when used lovingly and creatively can bring so much healing to others. It can bring comfort through sheer kindness and thoughtfulness. It can lift a spirit through a gentle touch and a warm embrace. It can bring clarity through the wisdom and insight we possess. Women’s sensitivity could bring so much harmony and peace into our world. In their commitment, women can bring great changes into their homes and into their societies through their unfailing devotion and prayer to God.

Many have had mothers they lost in some form or fashion. Many have had mothers by birth but for some reason or another, they were not able to truly nurture their child. Many in our world yearn for love, kindness and gentleness that they have lost or simply never received. It is amazing how much humanity would heal if they were given this gift of unselfish love freely. It is dangerous to judge people when you have never walked in their shoes, for further damage can ensue from such a choice. We are in this world to support and help each other along the way - not to judge. All of us have very limited understanding of the greater scheme of things and yes indeed, all of us have much, much work to do.

Through greater awareness and commitment to a spiritual life, it is amazing how many opportunities come our way where we can exercise kindness and compassion for another. Let us seize those opportunities - for the gift of love is freely given!

My pendant was given to me by someone who wanted to be my mother but could not. I gave it to someone who I wished could have given me a motherly love. I now wear it as a symbol, reminding me that I must no longer look outside of myself. The Kingdom of God is within and its radiating love far surpasses that of a well meaning, yet limited mother’s love - allowing my hopes and dreams to be set on things above. I am deeply humbled and thankful for God’s presence and love in my life.

If you wish to know what justice is, let injustice pursue you.
~Eugenio Maria De Hostos

Life in the orphanage was a time that I’ve come to appreciate the older that I have become. I realize that I have gained some perspectives about certain things that may or may not have happened through a normal family setting.

Life in the orphanage was routine in many aspects, and our days were like the days of children in homes with their parents. We made our beds every morning, and had to clean our rooms before going downstairs to eat breakfast as a group. Only on rare occasions did someone straggle downstairs late. After school, we ate lunch together, and those who had kitchen duties would tend to their chores. The rest of us would all go to the learning room to do our homework. After that, we were allowed to go outside and play. We spent our afternoons playing outside, going on bike rides, or going for walks. On rainy days, we would be huddled inside playing board games, cards, reading, rough housing, painting, or working on arts and crafts. Evening meals were at six o’clock, and chores were done either before or afterwards.

On occasion, our routine was broken by squabbles, some of which were ordinary and some of which were not. Sometimes a fight would break out and it would have to be broken up by the social workers. I remember only a few times where an older child actually got into a physical fight with a social worker, though. The jealousy, back biting, and group gang-ups that one would experience in school were also a part of daily life. Sometimes, a strong personality would come to the forefront to exert power and position. The weaker kids would often follow this personality. These squabbles that were difficult to endure were the kind that were not readily visible because they were emotional. Though we had good and caring social workers, we could not turn to them always as a child turns to a loving parent for direction. When such squabbles broke out, I felt very alone and vulnerable.

When I was about 12 years old, there was one such occasion that became a big upheaval for me. I had returned to the orphanage after spending a week with Geli and Herman. As I walked through the door, I saw everyone was sitting around the table eating dinner. I said hello and hello and went upstairs to put my things away and then joined the group downstairs. When I opened my armoire, I noticed a sweater that belonged to one of the girls with whom I shared the bedroom. It was her favorite sweater and I wondered what it was doing in my armoire. As I picked the sweater up to lay it on her bed, I noticed it was all cut up. I became afraid, and for a moment did not know what I should do.

I took the sweater and mustered the courage to go downstairs with it. All the kids stared at me as I had this cut-up sweater in my hand to show the social worker. Simone was not there that weekend and it made dealing with this situation even more difficult. Simone always seemed to handle situations with fairness and with perspective. I showed the sweater to one of the other social workers but I have little recollection of what the actual response was. I do remember that I was overwhelmed with feelings of rejection and injustice. I noticed the kids started to whisper among themselves and looked at me suspiciously. After dinner, no one would speak to me. I knew that everyone thought that I had cut up the sweater and I also knew that this girl had already been badmouthing me to the group. This girl had been in our orphanage only a few years. She was a few years older than I, but we had become good friends. Her sister also was in our orphanage also, but she had been put into a different group. My roommate was very competitive about our social worker, Simone’s attention. Everyone loved Simone, and my friend became obsessed with winning her praise. (You may read, “The Laughter of Simone” on this blog to find out about this young woman and why we all were so fond of her). Her entire personality changed to fit what she thought Simone wanted. She became very jealous of my relationship with Simone, and tensions had risen between us.

I felt completely overwhelmed with my feelings of betrayal and isolation. I went to my room and cried wishing that Simone was there so I could talk with her about it. She was good at putting things in perspective and lessening what we would perceive to be dramas. I decided to run away to Geli and Herman, and I waited for the opportune time to go. I left after dinner time when everyone was busy playing and other’s were doing their chores. We had a white wall around our orphanage and when I snug out of the house, I went to the least conspicuous area by the wall and crawled over it. I ran as quickly as I could until the orphanage became a distant silhouette. I caught my breath and then walked the rest of the way. It was the first and last time I took such extreme measures while living in the orphanage, but it was the only solution that I could come up with at the time.

Normally, I would take that trip by bus and trolley. However, this particular trip was not planned, and I did not have my allowance money to buy the tickets I needed. So, I walked the entire way taking over 2 hours to arrive at Geli and Herman’s house. As I walked, I just cried because I could not believe that someone could cut this sweater up and put it in my armoire, make it look like I had done it. It seemed all so unfair and so vicious. I felt very alone.

As I walked, I came to a bridge: though it was familiar to me, I hesitated for a moment. I had no other choice but to walk under it because I certainly did not have any intentions to go back. As I proceeded, a man began to walk alongside me. I can’t remember a single word that we exchanged. I do remember thinking that I must stay alert and very clever should he want to harm me in some way. I felt afraid, but I tried very hard to be matter-of- fact and confident. After a little while, he turned away and went a different direction. I was relieved.

When I arrived at the young couple’s house and rang their door bell, I started to cry all over again. Geli opened the door. Her surprise showed as she invited me in and I proceeded to tell them the entire story. They were very kind and listened carefully as I talked through my tears. I have often told Geli stories about the upheavels between the girls in the orphanage, something I simply never could adjust to. Geli and Herman were very tender towards me and understood the hard situation that I found myself in when I arrived at the orphanage earlier that evening. However, they explained to me that they needed to call the director of the orphanage to let them know my whereabouts. They did not want to find themselves in some legal difficulties by keeping me there without their knowing. Although I did not want to go back, I was glad that I had the chance to talk to someone about this. They drove me back in their car and I just kept on crying.

When we arrived back at the orphanage, we sat down and talked with the director. I explained that I had just returned from a weekend away and found this cut up sweater in my armoire. I swore that I did not cut it up and would never have done such a thing. They knew that I never had any kind of behavioral problems in school or at the orphanage. Somehow, the issue seemed to simply dissolve away with little concern. I was glad because I felt that the suspicion was at least taken away by the adults. However, this was a hurt that went deep and stayed with me for a long time. I felt betrayed and attacked by my friends and peers. Life in the orphanage had changed for me and the remainder of my time there became even lonelier.

After I found Simone again over 25 years later, we discussed this event and the drama this was for me. No one ever admitted to cutting the sweater up and placing it in my armoire. Simone, however, knew that I did not do it and she wished she could have been there for me. It did my heart good to be able to talk about this with her again.

All there is left to do is move on and believe that in time the truth is made clear in some way, even if only to ourselves. This is not easy. Yet, as we get older and begin to understand that there are higher purposes, and a living Being that extends mercy and kindnesses untold, the pain of our dramas lessen and is somehow changed into lessons so valuable that we would never want to trade the wisdom we gave gained to be free of the experience.

To this day, I am hypersensitive to injustice. However, I don’t want to be a fighter. As I have gotten older, I’ve learned to deal with injustice differently. Turning recognized anger and pain over as an exchange for insight and wisdom has proven to bring greater peace into my heart. It allows me to feel compassion instead of anger and hate. It allows me to continue on my search for greater spiritual awareness and my desire to learn to love. This, I believe is the purpose of our existence here on earth: many lessons bring greater awareness to those things that matter most in life. Looking deep into our own hearts, each of us will learn what is of utmost importance to us.

I hear a call of integrity -
of love and peace of mind.
It matters not what we might think
of injustices that can’t be made right.
Our purpose here is so much greater
then what our finite mind can comprehend.
I trust this call - that I hear so clear,
I trust it with all my heart.

~Viola Jaynes