Last week, I was at a meeting in a local church and the lady sitting next to me asked why the building was devoid of any decoration or flowers. Even the statuary was covered in purple cloth. ‘It is because it’s coming up to Easter’, I replied, though I had forgotten the details. Through the period of Lent, the church and its congregation use the time for reflection and so simplify their places of worship and their own lives. Some may practice fasting or ‘give up’ a luxury. Most other religions too have dates set aside for spiritual development allied with physical denial, such as Ramadan.
Perhaps you do not have a spiritual practice that requires such abstinence or perhaps you have no spiritual practice at all. Either way, I don’t think that we need one to remind us that it is valuable to set aside time to take stock of our lives and to learn a little resilience and self-discipline by doing without now and again.
Nature knows best
While I was contemplating this world-wide phenomenon of periods of rest followed by bursts of activity, I thought about how this is exactly what happens in the natural world. As winter advances, trees shed their leaves and enter a state of dormancy while storms rage and snow falls. They are not being idle however, but rather gathering their strength for the magnificent display of new growth and flowering that is spring.
Image: Karen Costello-Mcfeat
Without enduring the harsh winter months, such a brilliant display would not be possible. And we too are creatures of the Earth who need to find a balance between dormancy and regeneration.
Losing balance
Ironically, having finally settled on this subject for my post, I fell foul of the very problem I was going to write about. After several weeks of frantic activity, wonderful socialising and simply doing too much, my body protested and simply shut down. MS is very helpful at reminding you when you need to rest. It doesn’t let you do anything else. So, cancelling some lovely social plans, I took myself to bed and slept and dozed. Reading and even watching the television was beyond me. I required zero stimulation. Luckily, my husband was home early to take care of the dog.
This morning, I awoke super early, refreshed and ready for the day. I was also suitably chastised and know that I must pace myself more carefully from now on. Fortunately, we are on the brink of the bank holiday weekend and I have nothing more planned than gardening, house tidying and eating Easter treats.
Bucking the 24/7 culture
Modern living doesn’t promote balance in life. Rather, it promotes the notion that we must have whatever our heart desires in minutes or, at worst, the next day. We have lost the joy of anticipation and of waiting. And with that, we have lost much of what brings true satisfaction. Instant gratification is followed very quickly by its opposite. So, we click and click again in search of that elusive high.
Only when we can step back and draw on the wisdom of nature and ancient spiritual practices can we see that waiting, even doing without, is not a punishment but a preparation. Anyone with even the most basic understanding of economics will tell you that value is set on the basis of supply and demand. When supply is ubiquitous, value tumbles. When supply is limited, it soars.
For most of us, time is our most valuable asset. We bemoan its lack while frantically filling our days with tasks of dubious value. Just as we are told that we should have everything immediately, we are also expected to fill every day with Instagrammable moments. Our fear of missing out propels us to visit one more event, to engage in one more outing even when we know our batteries are low. After all, spending an afternoon sitting quietly in the garden enjoying the birdsong and the touch of sun on your face is unlikely to generate many ‘likes’. And this is precisely where the market wants us to be – endlessly consuming goods and experiences since that is, after all, what generates profits.
But we are not automatons. We have choices and need to have the courage to follow the path that works for us. I am hardly advocating ‘dropping out’ or wearing a hair shirt. What I suggest is that we take this little holiday to re-evaluate what really matters to us.
Like the dormant trees in winter, the period of Lent ends in a riot of celebration: flowers and feasting and colourful spring clothes. Our moments of stillness refresh and nurture us so that the following abundance can be truly enjoyed. If we can keep our balance, we really can have it all.
Happy Easter!
