Spring Perspective
"When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”
-widely attributed to Alexander Graham Bell
In my February spiritual direction session, my spiritual director pointed out that she noticed I kept saying, “The hard thing about that is…” and then listing any number of past hurts, familiar habits I’ve located in my earlier years, or reasonings for why something is worthy of weightiness in my mind. I had no idea I was doing this. I fancied myself a critical thinker and self-aware, and while I may be those things, I’m also as she helpfully pointed out one who is staring so regretfully upon the closed door that I’m not seeing clearly what’s in front of me, what’s open and available and ready.
I took this photo in my front yard this week.
I was struck noticing the buds and leaves ready to burst forth, but also the decay beneath. I spent a little time trying to adjust the focus on my iPhone to show the detail of the new growth. I’m not sure how successful I was, but it was a practice for me that gave me pause.
Why is it so hard to focus on what’s most closely in front of us?
What purpose does looking back currently have in my life, and what purpose could it serve--in a way that actually serves me?
Looking back for me has become an unconscious self-protective mechanism. Our minds have beautiful ways of learning behaviors that have kept us safe in the past and use them as templates for what is going on in the present to scan for potential threats (shout out to Sarah Baldwin and the You Make Sense podcast for teaching me to see the beautiful part of this nervous system adaptation). If something matches, we pull the file folder identified to browse for how to approach the situation in a way that’s safe for us. All of this happens really fast, and for the most part, really unconsciously. For me, looking at the decaying tree stump hasn’t been so much about wishing things would be they way they used to be, or a nostalgia about “the good old days.” It’s been a way to protect myself against the possibility of more axes and more chainsaws and more cutting downs.
I am working on not just having head knowledge and felt sense about where this patterning started and developed but on allowing my noticing to become an opportunity for taking an open door.
I’m spring cleaning my inner landscape, my interior home, as I clean up my external website and home spaces, because the outer is a reflection of the inner, mutually related.
The question my spiritual director asked me was an invitation to me, and it’s one worthy of sharing with you, too, if you find you might benefit from it, here are some questions it brought forward for me:
What has outlived and over-served its purpose that is now hindering me in this current chapter: physically, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, relationally?
Where in my life do I need to see differently in order to live differently?
Where in my life am I so weighed down that I’m being held back from being my fullest self?
Where is my focus? What is the result of that? What would invite spaciousness here instead of closed- and narrrowmindedness?
What’s easy about this moment, even when it feels so difficult?
I wonder, what does spring cleaning look like for you in your inner landscape? Where do you need to clear out some brush so that your garden can grow? What seeds of new intentions are asking to be planted in the compost of what has been to bloom into tomorrow’s trees? What might the world look like if we choose intentionally to approach what we can do in this moment instead of becoming frozen in looking at what we cannot?
I’d love to hear how this resonates for you, and for my artist readers, I’d love to see any artwork this might spark in you!
In all things, approach with compassion--because the part of me that self-protects, and the parts of you all that do too, are just as worthy as the parts rolling up sleeves and pulling out the vacuum and mop bucket.
To clearing out the dust and honoring the capacity in each of us, the seeds ready to be given the chance to sprout.
To being open and available for the work of the Sacred springing forth, making ways in the wastelands.
May we do this sacred work together, for our good and the good of all.
Great article, thank you. It's given me lots to think about! :)