Episode 02 - Lost In The Forest
Last week, I spoke about that massive rejection. In the days that followed what I’ll call, “the rejection that shall not be named”, I was far from finding my clearing. I was lost in a forest of shame and anger and hurt.
This week, I pause to wonder — why is it so important to be lost, to feel everything about being lost. What is the connection to being lost in the forest of our lives in order to be found in our clearing?
Thirty years ago, after I graduated with a Masters of Divinity, I said no to ordination and employment opportunities with the United Church, while saying yes to a spiritual journey that gathered in circle.
The rejection “that shall not be named” had an element of title, lets call it lower case ordination.
When signing up for this venture, I heard that cunning voice within: “come on Bonnie, wouldn’t a hat, even a modest hat, perched on the top of your head, announcing your commitment to circle be sweet.
Whacking away at the bramble, There it was. Humiliated that I allowed this temptation to sneak in again, I swung at the thought: “since this rejection hurt so much, maybe, just maybe, thirty years ago, when I said no to ordination, I made a mistake.” Instead of coming up with any clear answer to that question, I raged on.
During one of the swipes, I looked behind me: “Good grief, Bonnie, why did you get so attached; why did you give so much time, why did you get vulnerable and why the heck did you have so much faith in those at the helm of this venture? Not to mention the travel, the expense, the child care. Oh please, lift me out of my own humiliation.” Regret, with a capital R
Then there was that day when I was driving down a gravel road toward our farm. The emptiness of the prairie sky above had me Pull over to the side of the road, put my head in my hands, and have another good cry and when I looked up, I said ha…this regret, it’s my part of being lost. I sat in my car, on the shoulder of the road, Smack dab in the middle of the silence of my inner forest and I knew, ultimately, I stood in that silence alone.
As I read and reread my notes and resources from the venture I was rejected from, I stumbled upon a massive log; it belonged to the species called “blame”: “Blame the people who caused this pain and blame the disastrous institutional decision making process that amplified the pain”
This log — not only did I notice it, but described its every detail. While doing that, I noticed this blame was also my part of being lost. And like the regret, I found myself smack dab in the middle of the silence of my inner forest. And I knew, that ultimately, I stood in that silence alone. Alone with my regret, alone with my blame. My most important work: why did this loss bring about my deep feelings. What terrifying truth about my journey was inside of this loss.
The year I met my husband, Mark, his fiance was killed in a car accident. One of the pieces of wisdom he received during his early raw grief, “as hard as it will be, try to make friends with every feeling that comes through. Sit side by side with the despair, the pain, the unbearable loneliness”
In the middle of the night, during my six months of lost, if in my tossing and turning, I would wake Mark up, the only thing Mark did — he was with me. The only words he would speak, “yeah, it makes sense you would feel lousy.” And then he would put his hand on my back, or hold me. He did nothing to try to fix or analyze or minimize or dismiss. He simply recognized that I was lost in these complex feelings, lost in the forest of my life. He was my witness.
As Martha Postlewaite writes:
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
We can only begin to create a clearing, when we know and understand and feel the dense forest of our life.
We can only make room for being found when we honestly allow ourselves to be completely lost.
What resonates for you as you listen to our conversation? As you reflect, we invite you to consider the following questions:
What is your practice How would you tell the story of an ‘in the forest’ moment in your life? How do you recognize that you are there?
In that inner forest, how do you feel? What messages are you receiving there?
How do you experience the process of “whacking or shedding the extraneous stuff’ in your story? What muscles are you strengthening there? How does this serve you?
A Deeper Invitation
Go into the forest. Go off the path. Sit amongst the trees and the bramble. Listen. What does the forest have to teach you?
