Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Tuesday ponderings

Today, during a scrumptious LW naptime (complete with tea, a blanket, and a book), I was re-reading Madeleine L'Engle's The Rock That is Higher for the first time in awhile, and the following quote really struck me, so I thought I would share.

"C.S. Lewis points out that our roots are really elsewhere.  True.  But we do not get to that elsewhere except through our journey in this life on this planet.  While we are here we must put down roots so that we will not be uprooted by a passing storm.  The roots may reach down through earthly life to 'elsewhere,' but they have to go through the earth and our life on the earth before getting to 'elsewhere.'  What else does the Incarnation affirm?  Jesus came not to deny life, but to offer life, and life more abundant.  We are not to retreat from life, pinning our hopes on 'elsewhere,' but to know that we will come to that final destination best by living here and now, be it through joy, or pain, or a mix of both."

At the same time, she also acknowledges that
"we are not homesick so much for something that was, and was lost, as for something that will be, and is to be found." 
After LW's nap was over, the paradox of these thoughts kept coming back to me.  How to live in the world, but not of the world, but also to fully realize our humanity in the here and now?  I don't have the answers, and neither did L'Engle (which is part of what I love about her, and why I retreat to her stories when I am confused, or need to try to sort out something that my rational mind cannot solve or see a way through).  I think the answer lies more in the realm of intuition, of faith, of love... and while I don't understand, and didn't come to any profound life altering realization, I did play with my daughter.  And I saw how much sheer joy she finds in discovery, in accomplishment, in little things that I have long since taken for granted and stopped noticing.  I'm not going to say that little children are "humanity as it is supposed to be," for there is certainly much in little children that must mature, and be grown out of, and much work for grace to do.  But there is also something wonderful in little children that we lose as we get older - wonder, and tangible, touchable human-ness, the human-ness not afraid to play, pray, explore, try, believe.  Somehow, I think that it is that sort of living in this world that L'Engle is talking about - not the living in this world that the consumerist culture would advocate (i.e. "live it up!  buy this, that and the other thing; have your affairs, your flings, your high-profile corporate job, your exotic vacations and clothing and car"), nor necessarily even the living that is taking your mind to its highest potential through degrees and scholarly pursuits - but the living that happens, day to day, in the humdrum.  The living that really is loving, connecting, finding out who you are and who others are, and serving each other on this journey.

Anyway, my brain is tired after a long day, so not sure if any of this makes sense... just what's been on my mind today.  I highly recommend L'Engle's book (or any of them, actually) anyway - much good food for thought there.  I don't always agree with her on "facts" but the spirit of what she is saying always resonates deep within, and has that inimitable ring of truth to it.

3 comments:

Liz said...

let me try that one again. All of this is why I introduced you to L'Engle as soon as you were old enough to appreciate her (kindred spirits and all that stuff). Unfortunately, your brother never did appreciate her at all. I didn't always agree with her on the facts, but sometimes her heart seemed to know what her head didn't.

The other author I love who is also a lover of children and fascinated by their sense of wonder is Chesterton. Of course I'm always quoting him about children's love of repetition, but he truly was a lover of children. He used to amuse the neighbor children by catching buns in his mouth (among other things). LW would have loved him. Of course one other positive about Chesterton is he usually got the facts right too.

Anonymous said...

I love the stage of discovery my son is in. Everything I show him is brand new-- be it my hairbrush or a plastic bottle. He takes such delight in these things that I find myself re-examining them alongside him.

I haven't read this L'Engle book. Would you recommend it overall?

Abby said...

Mom - I definitely agree. Though I find L'Engle more of a kindred spirit even than Chesterton. Chesterton is witty and right on and wondrous and child-like - but somehow remote, since he never wrote about his struggles or his confusions. L'Engle may go down a lot of weird paths, and write about complex and sometimes not age-appropriate topics, but she is very real and human as she does so. Sort of more like Flannery O'Connor in that respect.

Heddy - I definitely recommend that book; I don't agree with all of it but there is enough in there that hits the nail on the head to be worth reading. How much of her non-fiction have you read? I also like "A Circle of Quiet" and "Walking on Water" a lot. If you like L'Engle, you might also like Luci Shaw, who is mainly a poet but has written some interesting faith journey sort of stuff as well. Of course, neither writer is/was Catholic, but as with most things, I've learned to take what is good out of a good book without getting hung up on what isn't (unless what isn't really ruins the goodness). Another really *great* read, if you are interested in reading about writers, the writing life, and Catholicism, is "The Life You Save May Be Your Own."