My Friend, do you think a Soul Friend can be someone who is no longer walking this earth? I’ve decided without hesitation, the answer for me is yes! So, my anamchara is beyond a coffee date, but not beyond a quiet corner in my home once I light a candle and quietly invite his presence. Surely John O’Donohue would approve. And because I listen to his books, I’ve got the added benefit of hearing John’s melodic voice asking me clarifying and challenging questions.
Sitting quietly reflecting on a recent exchange with a lovely local priest, John and I begin to explore the concept of “Hard/Heavy Gifts”. There comes a time in each life when trouble of some kind knocks on the door. We all get handed hard or heavy challenges. How we choose to see these heavy loads, and what we do with them, is unique and personal.
For many of us, My Friend, carrying a loaded backpack for quite some time has given us a new perspective and a dash of wisdom with which to look at “Heavy Gifts”. One thing I know for sure is that heavy gifts can change you – have changed me. How they change you, now there is the rub.
My anamchara challenges me to recognize, honor, invite, even welcome the Heavy Gift. John asks me to address the Gift with respect and curiosity. Receiving it graciously, I am to ask the Gift, why it came, where it wants to take me, what it wants me to know, what quality of space it wants to create within me, and what I need to learn to become more fully myself. “So, not much here, John, thanks, see you later”, I say as I mentally blow out the candle and pull the covers back over my unwashed and tangled hair.
“Poise”, John says to me. Poise and courage move me on to the Heavy Gift asking for attention. For me, this Gift unfolded in stages over about five years. The flu that never went away turned into a loss of independence and a seriously Heavy reminder that we truly have very little to no control over our bodies or what my Soul Friend calls my clay form.
One day, I was an active, vital, valued mentor and leader in a career I thought I loved. Now, with some hard-won perspective, I can see a career around which I built my life and, sadly, by which I’d grown to define myself.
How many of us stand at a dinner party in a sparkling room full of new people, and over the clatter and chatter, when approached (introvert here) by a kind-eyed stranger, we step into an exchange that goes something like this. “Nice to meet you, I’m Susan.” Awkward pause as I panic and burble out some comment about the 1930s Art Deco vibe of the room. And then it comes. We move to the inevitable – “So, what do you do?”
I used to think “what do you do” was a question about who I was. Job titles, degrees, name and mission of the organization where I worked, yada yada yada. I really did not know that answer was as hollow as the cookie jar on my kitchen counter. I didn’t know until all the monikers of that life were no more. So Heavy Gift One brought me a housebound state of penumbral rooms, physical pain, fear, and what else, thankfully, I cannot remember.
But as my everyday world shrank, my inner world was given space to expand. No longer able to work or to do anything much at all, God left me with all I ever really needed. She peeled back and tossed away all the layers I’d spent a lifetime carefully curating. Dr. Scaggs was no more, and I was/am simply a beloved child held in the arms of a loving God.
For me, this paradigm shift from do to be didn’t come from a Damascus experience, but is hard fought every day.
Looking back, I can clearly see God was continually whispering, “Hey, Sweet Susie Girl, who are you and why in the world are you wearing closed toe shoes in Mississippi in July?” OR “Hey, My Sweet Girl, are you proud of yourself for doing ABC, when we both know full well ABC was Absolutely a Bad Choice and below your dignity?” AND “Why have you gone nose blind to the things you are allowing that don’t pass any smell test? Sweet Girl, you are getting a red spot on either side of your nose from the clothes pen you’ve attached there.”
I stubbornly ignored Her and pushed onward and upward and neglected inward. That is, until God had enough and pulled the emergency brake. She shut me down. Literally shut my clay form down. And in the stillness, She asks me to slow, take a deep breath, and listen. To look up and see the real and truly beautiful life gifted to me.
This Heavy Gift is heavy because it’s so big. It’s expansive. It is infinite.
So, My Friend, I hope you reach out to your Spiritual Director, Soul Friend, or anamchara to see what treasures await you on your sacred journey. May you turn a gentle gaze inward and find all that you need is already waiting there.
“For all that has been – thanks. For all that is yet to come – Yes!”
—Dag Hammarskjold
Susan is a quiet observer who manages to take it all in without judgment, Susan is a loyal friend. She is the kind of person who will tell you when you have lipstick on your teeth, will not bat an eye, and will cover you while you sort it out. She attends St. James, Knoxville, and lives in Dandridge with her wife, Kim.