There the Whole Time
November Newsletter
[Click here for the podcast of this reflection and blessing]
A Chara… dear friend, in Irish ~
I’ve been going for walks in the dark nearly every night this month. This has been partly out of necessity, because I have things to do until around 5pm and by then the deep dark has descended. But instead of shuttling off toward the lights of the town, this year I’ve been setting out into the darkness that sits right outside of my house. All I need is a little light (a flashlight/torch/phone) to alert oncoming traffic to my presence and to make sure I don’t stumble into the holes and bumps along the way. But more and more, I’ve been ignoring that artificial light and looking intently into the natural light that appears out of the darkness around me.
And I have been amazed by what I have seen, in the dark.
Stars. Millions of stars. The Big Dipper, hanging perfectly over the beach I walk on every day. Countless other constellations whose names I don’t know or remember, but which I’m now curious to find out about.
On one of my walks I saw a strange pinkish color in the clouds on my right. I couldn’t figure out what would be the source of that soft, warm hue on the edge of those clouds, when suddenly, to my utter SHOCK (I’m not exaggerating when I say the word shock!), a huge, red moon rose out from between those clouds! I had absolutely no idea the moon came up from that direction! It was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time, and I was completely transfixed. I stood perfectly still until the entire moon had risen up out of the clouds into the clear, open sky, where it watched over me through the rest of my walk.
What this shock and amazement has shown me is how clueless I have been about the gifts of darkness. Perhaps I can blame it on growing up in the massive city of Tokyo, where I did walk around at night regularly - but the ubiquitous city lights meant that it was never actually fully dark. Perhaps I can blame it on the mosquitos that would harass me whenever I tried to enjoy a starlit summer sky in New Jersey. Perhaps I can blame it on the places I’ve lived where walking in darkness would truly not have been a good idea. Perhaps I can blame it on the lure of a cosy house, which has certainly kept me in many a night in the past few years. Whatever has kept me from walking in the dark before, doing so this month has led me to a revelation:
These gifts of the night have been there the whole time.
I just haven’t been looking for them.
My walks recently have been a combination of complete wonder and kicking myself for having missed out on this all these years.
The starry sky has been there the whole time. I just haven’t been looking up.
Those moonrises have been happening. I just haven’t been paying attention.
These gifts of the darkness have been there the whole time - and not only in my own time, but in the times before me. Long before me. People have oriented themselves by the night sky for as long as there have been people. There’s a timelessness about looking at a starscape or a moonrise - it lifts me out of the present into the distant past and the generations of people who have searched the night sky and known it intimately. It connects me to what has come before and also what will come long after me. I am small - deliciously small - in this gorgeous universe, and in the larger span of time.
I want to know this world better. I want to pay attention. I don’t want to miss the beauty that has been waiting in the darkness this whole time. My heart has been full, and also full of regret too, at what I have been too blind to see in the dark.
Have you ever experienced a revelation of what has been there the whole time, but you just haven’t noticed? Has beauty ever shocked you with its presence, appearing out of places you didn’t expect? Have you ever had that pang of regret, that strong desire to pay attention, where you’ve thought: how have I missed this? I don’t want to miss this… Dear God, help me not to miss this…
Kiran
Retreats - Online and in Person
This has been a season of retreats for me, and I have loved leading them, meeting new people at them, and forging community through them. Consider joining me and others for one of the retreats coming up, either in the near future or in the years ahead!
Retreats @ Home (Online)
I’m leading Winter Retreats @ Home (3 Dec, 7 Jan) through the winter months. We had our first one in November, and it was a lovely experience for those of us gathered. Also, I was glad to receive feedback from those who did the retreat privately afterwards that it worked well for them. If you opt for a paid subscription to support Bless My Feet, you’ll simply receive an email with the Zoom link - you don’t need to register through Eventbrite.
The next retreat, “Longing for Light,” is THIS SATURDAY. It will take on an Advent theme, and we will reflect on those times when we’re waiting for the clarity that light can bring, but can’t quite see the way yet.
Longing for Light: Winter Retreats @ Home (online), 3 Dec 2022
Welcoming the Dawn: Winter Retreats @ Home (online), 7 Jan 2023
Retreats @ Corrymeela
I will be leading weekend retreats in February 2023, and April 2023, and we’ve set dates for October 2023 and February 2024 too. I’m also offering monthly half-day retreats at Corrymeela for anyone who would like to dip in to the retreat experience but aren’t able to come for longer periods of time. Contact welcome@corrymeela.org for more information, or click on the link below.
Half-day Retreat Spaces @ Corrymeela
Retreats @ Belfast
A few of you have let me know you’d be interested in a retreat space in Belfast - thank you! If you’d like to add your name to that list, please let me know by responding to this email - I’ll keep you posted on here and directly.
Resilient Spirit Pilgrimage April 2024
If a pilgrimage or extended retreat is something you’re longing for, mark your calendars for mid April 2024. I will be announcing details on this soon, but it is sure to be an incredible, life-changing experience. Please let me know if this is something you would be interested in by responding to this email.
Upcoming Psalms for the Spirit Podcast Episodes
I’m delighted to say that there are new episodes of Psalms for the Spirit afoot. I’ve learned so much from these conversations and I hope you have too, if you’ve had a chance to dip in. The great freedom of this podcast is that it is ever changing with absolutely no deadlines or pressure (on me, the producer!). There have been a few scheduling delays, but the episodes will come out after the New Year… In the meantime, if you’d like to listen to the 20 episodes of Seasons 1 and 2, check out the new podcast page. If you’d like to subscribe to that newsletter, which I will be using during this next season, that would be great too!
Join the Subscriber Chat
There’s a new feature of this site: the Bless My Feet subscriber chat. I’ve always had the vision of this being a community that could inspire each other on our journeys. You may be shy like me and not feel comfortable commenting, but if you’re willing to give it a go, it might be a really nice way for us to connect with each other. The theme for this season is 1) where in the world are you, and 2) would you be willing to share a pleasant memory/experience/image of darkness? Only one person has responded, so it would be great if you could be the second or third! :) For more information on how to join, see this post.
Blessing for Our Journey
May the God of the gifts of darkness
give us eyes to see gifts in the darkness.
May we venture out where we think we can’t see
and find what it is that we can see.
May we walk forward with what little light we need
and see light in places we don’t expect.
May we open our eyes and our hearts
to notice, to pay attention to
the starscapes,
the moonrises.
the shocking, amazing beauty.
May we not miss this.
Dear God,
may we not longer miss
these gifts
that have been here
the whole time.
Amen