Spiritual
This week: Edited by: Sophurky More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
Hi, I'm Sophurky ~ your editor for this edition of the Spiritual Newsletter. This week we'll talk about taking risks and going out into the deep end of life and swimming around for a bit.
The Rev. Scotty McLennan, author of the book Finding Your Religion, compares humanity's innate need for spiritual searching to climbing a mountain. In his view, we are all endeavoring to climb the same figurative mountain in our search for the divine, we just may take different ways to get there. In other words, there is one "God," but many paths. I honor whatever path or paths you have chosen to climb that mountain in your quest for the Sacred. |
ASIN: B01FST8A90 |
Product Type: Toys & Games
|
Amazon's Price: $ 24.95
|
|
Going Deep
My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe.
To him, all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, come by grace,
and grace comes by art, and art does not come easy.”
Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
I know this will come as a surprise to you but I am a bit of a freak. Because even though I am a fourth generation native Californian, born and raised less than 30 miles from the Pacific Ocean, I hate seafood of any kind. I don’t like the smell of fish; I don’t like the taste of fish. That includes shellfish, and yes, even that old standard “chicken of the sea” – tuna. It must be inherited from my Oklahoma father because the only person in my family of origin who loves seafood is my mother.
The strange thing is that I enjoy fishing. I haven’t fished in a very long time but when I was younger (and still living in California) I loved going to a friend’s cabin and getting up before the sun, taking a short hike, and fishing for rainbow trout in icy cold, snow-fed rivers in northern California. I enjoyed it, I was good at it – and I usually caught a few fish on those trips, which I would either throw back, or my companions would fry up with breakfast. I had a knack for knowing just where to drop my line. I’d find a spot by myself, usually that involved a large rock to sit on, and scan the river for the calmest, deepest eddy. Then I’d cast my line and sit quietly, waiting. It was all very Zen-like. And sure enough those trout would bite and I’d reel them in, which was the fun part. My companions would fly fish in the shallow, faster water – but since I didn’t fly-fish, the deeper pools worked best for me. Sure, fishing in that deep dark water I was more likely to snag or break my line – maybe even lose my bait and hook – but it was worth the risk for the giant trout hiding in those depths.
That's kind of how life is too, isn't it? Sometimes we achieve the best, most profound things in life when we leave our comfort zones, take a risk, and move into deeper water. We could substitute fish for wisdom or love, healing or peace – all of those things we want in life. But some aren’t able to experience or achieve them because we simply refuse to go deep enough, because going into the deep water is a risk. Let’s face it, the visibility in deep, dark water is next to nothing, which can be scary to take a plunge into because you can’t see the bottom – while shallow water is pleasant. It tends to be warmer as it tickles our ankles when we walk in it, and you can see the bottom in shallow water. That makes staying in or near the shallow water a temptation; it doesn't take a whole lot of effort or courage. But we all know that the deep water is where those things we say we want are swimming around. The shallow is where we begin the adventure, but not where we finish.
My husband and I were gifted a Hawaiian honeymoon from his parents. We started on the island of Kaui where I would go snorkeling for the first time. Yes, I grew up in Southern California and I didn’t eat seafood nor had I ever gone snorkeling. We rented the gear and found a calm little beach on the south of the island. Bob wanted us to swim out to the deeper water so we could see the amazingly colorful and diverse fish swimming around the reef. But I stood there, frozen in my fins, snorkel, and mask in knee deep in the water, afraid to go any further. As clear as Hawaiian waters are, the deeper one goes the less clear it is and the closer I’d be to danger – in particular, sharks. Bob coaxed me a bit further out so that I could at least float a couple of inches over the bottom and see a few stray fish here and there, but I wouldn’t go very far from shore.
Finally, patiently, Bob told me that the best fish were further out, and if all I wanted to see was sand and a few minnows, I could stay there in the shallow water. But if I wanted to see the variety of fish and an honest-to-goodness coral reef, I was going to have to go out deeper. So, after some sweet-talking and a promise to hold my hand, I ventured, little by little, bit by bit, into the deeper water. And after I got out there, and opened my eyes, the underwater scenery took my breath away. We’d seen the rain forest and a spectacular waterfall the day before, which were pretty amazing – but nothing compares with the beauty you see when you stick your head under the water. And the deeper you go, the more you see. I saw fish with colors I didn’t know existed; I saw living coral, and even a few eels which, frankly, almost sent me back to shore. I saw things I never would have seen if I hadn’t taken the risk of going into the deeper water.
In A River Runs Through It, Norman Maclean’s Presbyterian minister father believed that “all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, come by grace, and grace comes by art, and art does not come easy.” Art does not come easy, just as experiencing the depths of living takes risk and doesn’t come easy. But in the end, being difficult is what makes the reward worthwhile, isn’t it?
What depths are you afraid to plunge into? What keeps you in the shallow water at the edge instead of plunging all the way, deep into life? Or what depths were you afraid to plunge into but did anyway, and what was your reward? Where would you rather live – in the warm, safe, shallows? Or take your chance out in some deeper water. I look forward to hearing your responses, and hope that maybe even some of you will write something about it -- if you do, I'll make sure to feature it next month.
Until then -- come on in, the water's fine!
Sophurky |
Below you'll find some offerings from other WDC members about water, or fishing, or going deep -- or all three! Please let the folks know if you read their piece by leaving a thoughtful comment or review.
| | Fishing (E) Fable/Realism. On how small lies change everything in the family #1259546 by mr choo |
| | Invalid Item This item number is not valid. #672606 by Not Available. |
|
Have an opinion on what you've read here today? Then send the Editor feedback! Find an item that you think would be perfect for showcasing here? Submit it for consideration in the newsletter! https://www.Writing.Com/go/nl_form
Don't forget to support our sponsor!
ASIN: 197380364X |
|
Amazon's Price: $ 15.99
|
|
Now for a few comments about my last newsletter about finding your authentic swing, which struck a chord with many of you:
From bronxbishop
A wonderful story that asks the question most are afraid to ask themselves. Thanks for the literary kick in the behind! Great newsletter.
Bronx
Thank you!
From Katya the Poet
Whoooee! Authentic swing! This one surely hits the spot. I have been pondering exactly the same things at the start of the new year, start of the new decade. AND the new Vanity Fair has Tiger Woods on the cover, who may be struggling a bit with his authentic swing at the moment and in that tough Bagger Vance phase. Vanity Fair calls it a "fall from grace," of course, and that is how we talk about our authenticity around our house, too: being in the groove is like being in grace, and losing our way temporarily is being out of grace (not always a fall, sometimes a sideways shift). Thank you so much for this chance to ponder it in your terms, with your great images, examples, and interpretations. And I have been wanting to see the film, so this is a reminder to do that!! (And thanks for using one of my poems in your newsletter, too!)
Thank you for your thoughtful comments -- I'm glad you appreciated the newsletter, and I hope your poem got some good feedback.
From embe
Dear Sophy,
May the Lord bless you my dear,your words on this page an inspiration for the reader to trust in our Savior.
The poem attached about my life, finding Christ.
"Invalid Item"
Thank you!
From Lauriemariepea
hi, sophy--
i loved LOVED this newsletter! i've copied and pasted several of the quotations about finding our true selves. inspired, i am!
my favorite part of all: "Sometimes it takes a long time to hear the great chiming within. And even longer to stir up the courage to pay attention to it once we've heard it. Because often, when we find and follow through with our authentic swing, there is risk involved. And still, even in the face of the possible risk, there is a sense within us that we MUST do this thing."
wise and true, and no getting around it.
Glad you could relate, thanks for writing in!
From rachie
sometimes a question is best when you ask it of yourself. your newsletter encourages me to do that. thank you
You are most welcome, and thank you for your provocative question.
From esprit
A beautiful letter, Sophy. "They will say to me, 'why weren't you Zusia?'" I hope I'm not asked that.
Thanks.
You are welcome, glad it touched you.
From northernwrites
Based on my experience with other things like doing cartwheels, I suspect that an authentic swing looks effortless because it mostly is. An authentic swing is the "narrow way" when the physics of the swing itself seemingly provides the energy, taking the golfer along for the ride, rather than the golfer expending effort to push the club around the arc. Which is an encouraging thought when applied to our personal destiny. When the opposing forces on the right and the opposing forces on the left are in balance with each other, we are in a place where neither has any effect upon us. Since we are used to expending energy to counter those opposing forces, being in the narrow way feels like things suddenly got a lot easier.
Thank you so much for your wise comment that makes the point even more powerful and profound. Your explanation brings this even deeper for me.
From J.Cat
Hi Sophie,
The golf swing metaphor in the article you shared reminds me: "inside each and every one of us is our one true authentic swing". At this stage of my life, it is necessary to examine my life and find my true "authentic swing". It interests and jolts me because that means finding my "calling", that "special place in the world that no one else can fill at a particular time and place".
It is surely a great endeavor, a mountain to climb. Absolutely, I have to. Finding myself in the chaos, in the "marketplace", in the face of all the risks involved not only in this stage of my life but also in every bends, is, as you said, a MUST. I feel it, your article reminded me.
Thanks, reading through is spiritually uplifting. Finding this newsletters in my inbox is rewarding.
Thank you so much, I'm so glad it struck a chord with you!
From: olayemi
Thanks for all your evergreen messages. They inspire a lot.
Thank you!
From: annieframe
Just to say how much I enjoyed reading your writing. Made my day and made me think.... thankyou Sophy, regards, Annie.
So glad it made your day.
Please keep your comments and suggestions coming, they are greatly appreciated!
Until next time! Sophurky |
ASIN: 0996254145 |
|
Amazon's Price: $ 12.95
|
|
To stop receiving this newsletter, click here for your newsletter subscription list. Simply uncheck the box next to any newsletter(s) you wish to cancel and then click to "Submit Changes". You can edit your subscriptions at any time.
|