Barrenness
All emotions bring their gifts, even if those gifts aren’t always apparent.
It is fall here in Texas. This past week we have been blessed by some beautiful fall color. The oaks and maples are red and orange, and the fruitless pears are showing off shades of deep reds and purples. While fall here isn’t as beautiful as in other parts of the country, I cherish that one week or two when we have a bit of color. Here we don’t know what the weather will be, so we don’t dare put up our summer clothes. Wednesday the high was in the 80’s and today the high is in the 50’s. We don’t have time to get used to any one temperature because it can change thirty degrees in the course of a few hours. But now that the trees are finally turning, I know that winter is coming.
My mood these days has been a bit like Texas weather – up and down, and all over the place. I am not unhappy, but as is true for me every fall, I feel a bit melancholy. I suppose it has to do with the passing of time. It seems to fly by ever more quickly with each passing year. It is December 1, but it feels like it should only be mid-summer. There is a bittersweetness to fall that is poignant and sad and joyful at the same time. We are surrounded by incredible beauty, but that beauty comes to us because the leaves are dying. While my life is full and remarkably sweet, I know that with each minute that passes, I am inching closer to the end.
This week has been a week of barrenness. While I am meditating daily, when it comes to writing, my mind is a complete blank. I have no clue what to write in my journal or for this blog. Nothing seems to jog my creative juices these days. I am in a funk. But maybe that isn’t a bad thing.
Everyone has days, weeks, even months or years, when things seem barren. For me, during these barren times, my mind seems to be in neutral, and creativity is just beyond my grasp. Then I beat myself up because I’m not being productive, which makes me feel even worse. It becomes a vicious cycle that does no one any good, least of all, myself.
But what if I learn to sit with the void? What if I just accept the fact that my creative juices need a rest? What if I emulate nature and accept that it is okay to hibernate a bit in the fall and winter. As I sit in this barren place I can allow things to gestate in the dark. I can be okay with resting my body and my mind. I accept the melancholy feelings, along with joy of basking in the fall beauty. I can accept all of my feelings, not just the light, fluffy ones. I can just be in this barren space and allow the feelings to be what they are, knowing that when the time comes, creativity will blossom once again.
I love Jalaluddin Rumi’s poem, “The Guest House,” because it helps me see that all feelings and emotions are welcome to come to the house of myself. All emotions bring their gifts, even if those gifts aren’t always apparent.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
from Rumi: Selected Poems, trans Coleman Barks with John Moynce, A. J. Arberry, Reynold Nicholson (Penguin Books, 2004)
What emotions do you need to sit with and allow today?
Barbara Garland
December, 2022