Portals to Joy

I now know that it’s not only me who doesn’t always enter Advent gracefully.  Perhaps you’ve had your own less than elegant entry.Perhaps there’s been an entry that you’ve missed because it didn’t look the way you imagined Advent pause and practice should, deep and rich and even.  If you’ve read my earlier post you’ll know eye surgery has been my portal.  It was so uncomfortable I almost missed it.

Anyway, at this stage of recovery, a black plank rests across the vision of my left eye. It makes me think I have my glasses on and they’ve slipped down so that the top edge horizontally bisects my vision. But there’s nothing there on the outside. The distortion comes from within. The gas bubble inserted in my eye to press, like a tender finger on the place that needs to rest and heal, changes the way I see. It seems to limit my vision.

But what if I dive down under the distortion; the plank in my own eye (remember that story?). What if I stop trying to blink it away or heft it aside. What if I dive down under distortion into the watery dept beneath; into the fluid depths of the Holy? What if am shown a cave, a niche of stunning emptiness, a virgin place where the divine and tender life is born?

What if distraction is a portal for this potent, quiet joy?