Solitude in the Noise
There are times in any relationship where the phrase "We need to talk" comes in to play. Usually it has to do with some revelation, some topic, some subject that we would either wish to avoid, or that has so profoundly changed us as individuals that it has the potential to change the relationship.
Sometimes these are profoundly positive. Even so, we enter into those conversations with a certain level of trepidation. "We need to talk" implies change. And change is not always something we wish to encounter.
What I find interesting is that while we seek to avoid these conversations in our daily life - or at least postpone them as long as possible - we very often completely miss the fact that there is a voice in our own head that can say those same words.
"We need to talk."
In our own lives, we find that we are continually inundated with what I have previously described as "noise." Our minds are always at work, always processing, always busy. And yet there are those moments when we find ourselves alone, with the distractions lessened, and the voice speaks up in our head - "We need to talk."
Personally, I find that these moments occur when I am driving - when there is nothing else for me to do but listen to my thoughts. Granted, I could turn up the music, pull up someone to talk to on the phone, and plenty of other distractions. However, at these points, I find the voice is at its most clear and most loud.
And it is in these moments that I can also find solitude.
Solitude, for the Christian faith, is desired as a time in which a person can encounter/listen to/confront God. Jesus, especially in the Gospel of Luke, is described as going away to be in prayer and solitude. Most clearly, though, is the example of Jesus in the wilderness where, after his 40 day solitude, he is faced with the 'temptations.' He is able to face them because he has come to understand who he is in relation to God.
But that doesn't come easily.
In the early years of the Christan movement, there emerged a monastic movement, in which Christians would separate themselves from the trappings of the world in an effort to ponder on the larger mysteries of God and to encounter God. It wasn't for everyone, though. And these monks were less interested in theology (as in defining that theology for doctrinal purposes) and more about the inner life, a quest for peacefulness, mercy, and purity of heart. In many ways, they were more interested in becoming an embodiment of Christ then they were about defining what should be believed about Christ.
But before we can even consider heading out to the desert to become a monk, we have to wander into the solitude of ourselves and meet up with two persons: God and ourselves.
I do not know which one is more difficult to meet.
I think, though, it is hard to meet one without meeting the other. But to meet either takes solitude, and solitude comes from a willingness to hear the voice say, "We need to talk," and then to respond with an affirmative, "Yes, we do. Let us begin!"
Be warned, though. These conversations may take time and patience. They may also take us to different places both in our set beliefs and physical localities. What these conversations will not do is leave us where we began.
Then, when we leave the wilderness of solitude (or the Fortress of Solitude to which Superman would retreat), we find ourselves emerging with new eyesight, new perspectives, and a willingness to venture back to solitude with less and less coercion.
Sometimes these are profoundly positive. Even so, we enter into those conversations with a certain level of trepidation. "We need to talk" implies change. And change is not always something we wish to encounter.
What I find interesting is that while we seek to avoid these conversations in our daily life - or at least postpone them as long as possible - we very often completely miss the fact that there is a voice in our own head that can say those same words.
"We need to talk."
In our own lives, we find that we are continually inundated with what I have previously described as "noise." Our minds are always at work, always processing, always busy. And yet there are those moments when we find ourselves alone, with the distractions lessened, and the voice speaks up in our head - "We need to talk."
Personally, I find that these moments occur when I am driving - when there is nothing else for me to do but listen to my thoughts. Granted, I could turn up the music, pull up someone to talk to on the phone, and plenty of other distractions. However, at these points, I find the voice is at its most clear and most loud.
And it is in these moments that I can also find solitude.
Solitude, for the Christian faith, is desired as a time in which a person can encounter/listen to/confront God. Jesus, especially in the Gospel of Luke, is described as going away to be in prayer and solitude. Most clearly, though, is the example of Jesus in the wilderness where, after his 40 day solitude, he is faced with the 'temptations.' He is able to face them because he has come to understand who he is in relation to God.
But that doesn't come easily.
In the early years of the Christan movement, there emerged a monastic movement, in which Christians would separate themselves from the trappings of the world in an effort to ponder on the larger mysteries of God and to encounter God. It wasn't for everyone, though. And these monks were less interested in theology (as in defining that theology for doctrinal purposes) and more about the inner life, a quest for peacefulness, mercy, and purity of heart. In many ways, they were more interested in becoming an embodiment of Christ then they were about defining what should be believed about Christ.
But before we can even consider heading out to the desert to become a monk, we have to wander into the solitude of ourselves and meet up with two persons: God and ourselves.
I do not know which one is more difficult to meet.
I think, though, it is hard to meet one without meeting the other. But to meet either takes solitude, and solitude comes from a willingness to hear the voice say, "We need to talk," and then to respond with an affirmative, "Yes, we do. Let us begin!"
Be warned, though. These conversations may take time and patience. They may also take us to different places both in our set beliefs and physical localities. What these conversations will not do is leave us where we began.
Then, when we leave the wilderness of solitude (or the Fortress of Solitude to which Superman would retreat), we find ourselves emerging with new eyesight, new perspectives, and a willingness to venture back to solitude with less and less coercion.
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