When you’ve travelled far, but still have far to go. Or when you’ve come to the end of a road, but see yet another one just as difficult or more open before you. Or simply… when the wind shifts, when the tides turn.
You start to feel saddened or defeated. You feel like weeping. You become weak as your strength fails you. This is weariness of heart, and it is a part of this world – the bottom of the curve inevitably confronts us all.
But it is just the rising and subsiding of one mortal life, dear heart. You can recover yourself, uncover your constancy. In fact, you must.
“And he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed.” (Luke 5:16)
When your heart is weary, retire away from the bustle and the maddening crowds. Seek solitude and quiet in the wilderness. Ideally, disappear into a place of natural beauty for a time. If not that, find any quiet space and seek profundity in the wilderness of your heart. This is the first and best recourse against the fatigue – seek a respite of quiet reflection, meditation, and prayer.
When the turbulent waters of your mind still, the fluid power of your spirit becomes apparent. The light of holiness cascades from the heavens onto your anointed, upturned face. If you ask for solace and strength, your holy companion will come into your heart and empower you to carry on.
“Like a lotus flower that grows out of the mud and blossoms above the muddy water surface, we can rise above our defilements and sufferings of life.” (Buddhist proverb)
When your heart is weary, trust in the learning process of grace and providence. Know that at each point in your journey, you are uncovering the clogging, unhealthy emotions that you resisted in your life when they first arose. Know that the only way upward is through them, letting the crippling despondency and despair flow through you completely. And when you do, you will rise above them, you will be cleansed. Have faith and constancy, knowing that all things of this world (both good and bad) come to an end. Being the dust in the wind, they constantly arise and subside.
When we continue to allow life itself to flow completely through us, we emerge into a clarity and distance above the muddy waters. They continue to flow, of course, in this world, yet it is only that part of us which dwells in the world that is affected. Being in the world, you can be above it.
“Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.” (Rumi)
Above all, when your heart is weary – step forward with a happy, mad, bouncing step! With a wrecked body and bloodied face, with a broken heart that yearns for grace, enlightenment, blessings, faith, and holiness. Even as you doubt, even as you stumble, even as you collapse, decay, or die. Dance this ethereal, ineffable dance with our glorious and bountiful God, for it is both your choice and a gift you’ve been given.
For in sharing in the crucifixion, you share the resurrection. The humming note of God’s creation is ever unfolding, ever moving – it is a torrential river and you will tumble as a stone in it until you are polished and smooth. And yet, the source is absolutely still, the clear lucidity of the ground of consciousness that shines with love and gives form to possibility. You’re a collapsing waveform, you will rise and subside with the rest of it… and when you subside, you’re subsiding back to that source.
Nothing that is real can be lost, so move with the music that’s playing now, dear heart.
Dance because it’ll all work out in the end. You’ll see.