Discernment Process

I've been contemplating a decision.

I am one of those people who has managed the year plus of hibernation quite well. I have enjoyed the spaciousness -- the lack of so many events on my calendar and the shorter weekly To Do list. For the most part I have used my time well, devoting much of the open time to finish the current version of my spiritual memoir. I have read stacks of books, written many letters, and have expanded my morning meditation time. 

Of course, I have missed being with family and friends and seeing my spiritual direction clients in person, and I relish the return to some entertaining and to replacing ZOOM calls with hugs.

But...

Just how much busyness do I want to allow back into my life?

What does a full life look like for me now?

In recent years I have chaired a committee at church, which has involved organizing, sponsoring, and often leading a variety of events. Doing that has been fulfilling and meaningful to me, and I think to others, but I have been puzzled about returning to that role. For quite awhile it was clearly not the right time and easy not to make a decision. However, now with life opening more to pre-Covid norms, although certainly not entirely, the time for discernment sat on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Nancy, what do you want to do? What are you called to do?"

I had no idea, so I did what I usually do when I need to make a decision about a direction and next step in my life. 

I wrote in my journal. Again and again.

I sat quietly, hoping to hear words of wisdom.

I asked the "what would you have me do?" question before going to bed, hoping I would wake up the next morning with an answer. 

I shared my thoughts with family and friends and my spiritual director. 

I reread a book about discernment (Decision Making and Spiritual Discernment, The Sacred Art of Finding Your Way by Nancy L. Bieber), just in case I was missing something.

I walked a labyrinth, and took other contemplative walks. 

I brainstormed and made lists. 

After all that, I still didn't have an answer. What to do, especially since a meeting was scheduled to discuss next steps for my committee and the ways I can be of service. An actual in-person meeting with one of my beloved pastors.

As I drove to church, I truly had no idea what I would say. Then I pulled into the church parking lot, and I knew. There was no neon sign or chorus of angels, but the struggle ended. I entered the building with a plan--a loose one, but one grounded in love for that community. My work there is not done, and I am ready and eager to continue. The pace may be slower. The scope may be somewhat different, but I am ready to move out of the garret and to share my time and energy once again. 

The Japanese have a word for what happened in this discernment process:

                   saku-taku-no-ki

I read about this in Take Joy, A Writer's Guide to Loving the Craft by Jane Yolen. (p. 26)

    Saku--the special sound a mother hen makes tapping on an egg
    with her beak.
    Taku--the sound a chick makes tapping from within.
    No-ki--the moment the tappings come together.
    Saku-taku-no-ki--the instant a chick pecking on the inside and the mother pecking on the outside reach the same spot. The egg cracks open. New life emerges. 

Using the spiritual practices that ground me, I had done the inner work. I had tapped from within. What I needed was the reality, the sacred presence of the outer world to open me to new possibilities. 

And that feels exactly right. 

Stay tuned as I move into the next chapter of living a full life.

An Invitation

How are you doing as quarantine requirements change? I would love to know.