Biting My Restless Tongue

At our best, we become Sabbath for one another. We are the emptiness, the day of rest. We become space, that our loved ones, the lost and sorrowful, may find rest in us.

- Wayne Muller

From "Sabbath" quoted in How Shall We Live by Joan Chittister, OSB

For a few months now, I've been saving quotes that I get in my daily SoJo mail. For those of you that don't know, Sojourners is a progressive Christian movement rooted in the idea that our faith should move us to action. I get an email from them each weekday, and it's a reminder to me to pause and read a bible verse and interesting quotation. Unfortunately, usually all I have time for is a quick pause, and I don't have time to go deeper. So I put a star by it (gmail gives you stars instead of flags, I find that very cute) and try to remind myself to cut it out and put it in my bible.

So instead I thought that today I'd write about it in my blog. Amanda has decided to make an intentional effort to differentiate between her myspace blog and her hosted blog, and I think it's a good call and it's time for me to follow suit. It doesn't mean that I won't post periodically about what's happening in my life, but I'm going to try to be more intentional about posting on sustainability, food, agroecology (it's my new word I learned!), New Orleans recovery, and spirituality.

And so, back to the quote above. I've read and re-read this over and over for the past few days, and once again I'm struck by the simple truth in these words. We are rest for one another. We are empty space. We can create safety, and comfort, not by actively doing, but simply by being.

I think one of the hardest times to remember this is when we are confronted by death. K1 & T's grandpa died last week. My first instinct: What do I say? I haven't lost someone close to me for 16 years. I don't remember how it feels; in fact I doubt it feels the same to a child as to an adult. So then, if I don't know what to say, what do I do? These are the questions running through my mind. And so I said I was sorry. I let them know I am thinking about them. And then I realize that there is nothing more. If I were closer, maybe. But all I can be at this point is an ear if it's necessary.

Maybe the reason I'm thinking of this is that I'm realizing that these situations will continue to come. Will I know how to be a sabbath, a place of rest, for my friends when they are struck with grief, loneliness, depression? I'm learning, I think, but I have a ways to go. My instinct is always to fix. If someone is upset, I want to find a solution that will end whatever is upsetting him or her. What I've been realizing, more and more, is that sometimes people don't want a solution--at least not at that moment. They want a compassionate ear. They want to be heard. They want a place of rest.

I have such trouble keeping my own brain still, calming down, taking time in silence. I don't know which comes first, knowing how to be silent with myself or be a space for my friends...