“Thomas Merton wrote, “there is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues.” There is always an enormous temptation in all of life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for itsy-bitsy years on end. It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral, simply to step aside from the gaps where the creeks and winds pour down, saying, I never merited this grace, quite rightly, and then to sulk along the rest of your days on the edge of rage.
I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain, or Lazarus.
Go up into the gaps. If you can find them; they shift and vanish too. Stalk the gaps. Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn, and unlock-more than a maple- a universe. This is how you spend this afternoon, and tomorrow morning, and tomorrow afternoon. Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.”
― Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
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I spend much of my time on the knife's edge between gratitude and rage, so I get what she's saying. However, just reading it on the page reminds me that such conditions exist for a small minority of people in this world; for the rest, there is no need to stare at one's own navel until agitation comes. It's about to bang on the door.
But what if you find friends in those meals, journeys, and small tasks? The danger in gap dwelling seems way too self indulgent at times.
So what am I missing here?
Or have I found that rare morning comment that struck out?
OMG, am I in the gap?