The Value of lessons Learned

Anyone who knows me, knows well that I do not believe in New Year’s resolutions, so consequently I don’t make them. The reasons for that are varied, and not relevant to this post except in the framing of how I’ve learned to journey from one year to the next. I’ve come to believe that, at least for me, there is greater value in living intentionally day by day, following Holy Spirit nudges as they come along, and waiting with anticipation to see where I end up. And invariably, I learn a few things along the way; things that change my heart and change my mind; a renewed repentance if you will, an annual ongoing transformation that at once surprises, yet doesn’t - for these lessons have evolved with the intentional grace and mercy of a loving God. It’s not that I don’t have a plan; I do. Living with daily anticipation of what might be, acknowledging Holy Spirit moments as the guiding light of my life’s journey.

So for what it’s worth, these are a few of things I learned in 2022:

Learning is a life-long process, and I’m not just talking about the life-experiences that come our way, teaching us the practical, the daily deeds necessary for survival. No, I’m talking about the book-cracking, page-turning, tome-heavy challenge of reading about things I don’t know: history, politics, science, theology. There is no age in which learning should not be required. Most recently, I’ve been reading about the James Webb Telescope, looking at the images of the Cosmic Cliffs, the Ring Nebula, of birthing stars- amazed at the vastness, the grandeur, the incredible beauty of this expanding universe. Such images amaze my mind, but enrich my heart, telling me that the God I love, loves me back with unfailing, ever-expanding love. I’ve been reading about the Middle Ages, the culture, the wars, the struggles, the people. In turbulent times such as ours, it is good to return to a time that was even more volatile than ours to see what we can learn, even if all we learn is that we have progressed as a human race. I’ve learned that God speaks through us in all things, if only we remain open to seeing what He has to show us, to hear what He has to say.

In my faith journey, I’ve learned that it is vital to break out of the usual and expected paradigms of what I read. Transformation in faith comes about by inspiration, yes; but God also leads us on a journey of exploration if we are willing to follow the leading of the Spirit. I have discovered incredible wisdom across the religious landscape of authors, leaders, prophets, and clergy. Fundamentalists, evangelicals, Jewish rabbis, Sufi poets, Episcopalian priests, Catholic monks, Franciscans - all provide food for the soul, fodder for inspiration, seeds for contemplation. Pierre Teillard du Chardin, a French Jesuit priest with a PhD in archeology who wrote of the wonders and the complexities of science and theology in the early twentieth century; the writings of Thomas Merton, Trappist monk who helped to return Centering Prayer and meditation to the modern world; the profound wisdom and mysticism of Rabbi Abraham Heschel; Fr. Richard Rohr, Franciscan priest, author and lecturer whose gentle spirit, bright wit, and deep wisdom has unwrapped the Scripture in new ways, reintroducing me to the Jesus I want to know and love; Hildegard of Bingen, abbess from the 15th century, a Renaissance woman who advised kings, battled with popes, who wrote liturgical music and poems and medical books - and in general, introduced the wisdom of women to a time and place where women were scorned, dismissed, abused and ignored. These and so many more have opened up avenues of wisdom from ages past; it’s a feast fit for the kings and queens of The Kingdom.

I’ve also learned to let go; I’ve been working on that for awhile actually, but over the holidays this year - I realized that I’ve come a long way towards really getting to the heart of letting go. Of what, you may ask? As a person who spent nearly her entire professional life in senior management, in leadership, in decision-making, in making sure things got done and things moved forward, it has been a great challenge to learn how to let go in these later years. Working part-time in a strictly supportive role in the law firm (by choice), I no longer have a say in how things are done. It has taken me years to let go of the mind-set that I had to be “in charge” or things would collapse, but I’ve come a long way. Similarly in my own family, for years I hosted all the major holidays, in command of guests and menus and decorations. I did it voluntarily and enjoyed providing hospitality, cooking and hosting enthusiastically. But times change. This year, we spent Christmas Eve and Day at my older daughter’s home in Pennsylvania where they hosted an amazing meal on Christmas Day, and I was very proud of myself for not barging into the kitchen, or being that “pesky mom” who kept nosing into the preparations (well, not so much, anyway… I may have snuck in once or twice to be sure I wasn’t needed!). It was lovely to simply receive a delicious meal, and be blessed by their hospitality to us. Similarly, we went to my younger daughter’s home on the 27th, where she also hosted a lovely dinner for us; all I brought was the salad and dessert. I realized that I’ve finally learned that I do not have to be the center of the universe, that I can relax and let go; that the next generation is more than capable to carry on family and tradition. It was a lesson hard-learned, but oh! so satisfying.

These are but a few of the lessons learned; some are grander, some far more humble. The point is, I have transformed again in 2022, as I did in 2021 and 2020, and so on. The value of such lessons is the noting of them, the acknowledgment that certain things I did changed me, changed how I believe, changed how I live, changed how I love. Once noted, once memorialized, once sunk deep into my heart, I am free to move forward into the coming year, once again listening to that still small Voice, the Holy Spirit nudges that will continue to push my boundaries, expand my horizons, feed my soul, nourish my heart.

[1] The image is from The James Webb Telescope; what looks like a landscape of “mountains” and “valleys”, speckled with glittering stars is actually the edge of a nearby, young, star-forming region called NGC 3324 in the Carina Nebula, revealing for the first time previously invisible areas of star birth.