In Madeleine L'engle's book "A Wind in the Door", much hinges upon a certain creature's willingness to move from its juvenile life of freedom, to its mature phase of being rooted and immobile. A child will live or die resulting from its decision. It resists, it wants its freedom, it wants to see everything, experience everything. But in the end, it is persuaded to go on, to become more through forgoing that freedom, and through its roots to bear fruit for the nourishment of others. That's what I've been called to, I think, to be still, to sink my roots deep and forgo a multitude of experience. Perhaps that isn't the call everyone experiences ( I'd be quite astonished if it was), but it seems to me that many people don't even recognize it as a possibility.
That's it, my "spirituality of locality". I haven't explained it entirely to my own satisfaction, and there are probably things that later I'll remember and wish I'd included, but good enough to be going on. I try to grow up by staying close to home.
Perfect.
4 comments:
I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the link.
You're certainly on the right track, dear friend. As time goes on novelty becomes less appealing, because there are a few things that mean a lot to you, and pretty much take up your time and energy.
I shouldn't say this (sounds too caustic), but welcome to maturity.
Hi Larry, thanks for the comment. I'd have to agree, novelty gets old.
Congrats on your choice, Anne. I know I've always enjoyed being near 'home.' Its part of being grounded/centered.
Isn't it funny that 'being grounded' is a punishment for kids but becoming grounded is something adults are often trying to achieve.
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