One evening a lady came into the office. She had just come from seeing her husband in the hospital. She asked Solanus’s prayers and requested that he telephone her husband and give him some words of comfort. Solanus called the man’s room and told him that his wife was in the office and had asked for prayers for his recovery. After a few words of encouragement he said to the man, “Now, John, I will be praying for you this evening. I am going to pray for a happy death.” It was not what the man or his wife expected to hear, but Solanus was able to prepare them to accept God’s plan. The following day the man died a happy, peaceful death, and his wife and family found peace also.
Conversion was a matter for serious consideration with Solanus, not only in the lives of others but especially for his own soul. Sometimes he would say to a visitor, “You pray for my conversion, and I will pray for yours.” Again, in a letter: “Only in heaven can we be satisfied as being fully and really converted.” Thus he was at all times mindful of his own need to strive after perfection by the practice of virtue. A novice brother reported how he had seen Solanus running to the office when his call bell rang. The superior, who was standing in the corridor, called out sharply, “Father Solanus! Don’t run, slow down.” Immediately Solanus stopped, then slowly made his way to the office. Solanus’s humble act of obedience made a lasting impression on the novice.
We are told that in the beginning there was light. Ever since, all of God’s creation—plants, animals, we humans—are drawn to light. As we emerged from our mothers’ wombs and pushed our way through a dark and confining birth canal, we experienced light for the very first time. We have come to learn how light sustains us and calls us to life. We call Jesus “Light of the World,” and he invites us to be light for one another in ways of loving, caring, and serving. Without this light, ours would be a dark, fearful, oppressive journey.
Move from contemplation to action and probe for inner wisdom. What kind of light do others see in you? Do you have enough light to see your way? How do you fill the oil in your lamp? Who needs you today to bring a bit of sunshine into their life? As you generously share your light, give thanks and praise in knowing and treasuring all that is gift.
Your body is spiritual. There are not two halves of you: soul versus body. You are one whole, made in the image of a God who is integrated and indivisible. Your relationship to your body cannot be separated from the health of your soul, for the two are intertwined to make up all that it means to be you. Your flesh and bones are sacred; they connect you to your soul’s experience of the divine. Science indicates that your body is composed partly of stardust. Faith tells us this was no accident. The presence of your body on this earth today is a miracle—a massive statistical improbability. And yet here you are, held fast in the divine generosity of this body you were given. Here you are, your flesh and bones a product of a perfect, generative, mysterious Love; a Love that holds all things together.
The contemplative tradition centers on an awareness of the reality that all things are interconnected; all things find oneness within one another, and thereby within God. With this contemplative posture in mind, think about the miracle of your body’s existence on the planet, here against all odds. Let yourself be amazed and humbled. As you come to honor your place in the universal life of God, see if you can notice and physically feel the gratitude in your body.
Rather than being taught how to listen to and honor your body’s messages with discernment, you have most likely been taught to seek mastery over your body through controlling things such as the amount of food consumed, the intensity of exercise, and your dress size. In some circles, this is even painted in religious language and made to seem pious— as though achieving dominance over your physical self indicates some kind of spiritual gift. But this mastery mindset separates the divinely intertwined parts of yourself. If you are seeking to dominate your body, there is no way to hear and trust the messages she is trying to send you. Your body is not something separate from you for you to control.
Your brain was not created to dominate your body, but to live together in a harmonious relationship. Trusting your body will teach you something about trusting yourself. When you practice deep listening within your body, you will begin to learn how to listen deeply to your truest self, too. Everything is connected. There is no separation within the parts of God’s own self, and there need not be any separation in you, either. This is one mysterious way you embody the image of God.
Reflecting on the ways you have grown, take note of possible connections between the growth of your soul and the growth of your body. Perhaps your body has expanded in a way that feels true to your soul, or perhaps it feels like your body and soul are telling two different stories. Acknowledge and honor whichever experience is yours. In the intuitive knowing of your soul, what divine invitation do you sense being extended to you? What work is necessary to find congruence between the growth of your body and soul? Remember that the voice of God is always affirming, compassionate, and tender. Refuse to listen to anything else.
You would not be worth more if you looked different than you do today. You would not be a better person. You would not be smarter or more important. You are already necessary, already vital, already full of contributions to the world, already a voice the rest of us need to hear. And if someone else cannot see that, it is their problem, not yours. You are already dearly beloved by God in the very body you are in today. You are already enough.
Our bodies tell stories that we would often rather keep quiet. Whether it’s cellulite, weight gain, stretch marks, stomach rolls, or big feet, our bodies tell the story of growth—the story of our rising and falling, our loving and losing. We are told we should be embarrassed about these signs of life; we are told to cover them up, make them disappear, or find any solution other than accepting them. But what if we decided not to? What if, instead of being ashamed that those pants no longer fit, you affirmed yourself for the growth, maturity, and substance that you’ve gained since you last wore them? Not pretending that there is a direct correlation but letting what is visible remind you to see and honor what is invisible.
Sure, maybe you went up a size since last year, but let that discovery remind you of the more important ways you have grown in that same amount of time. Maybe you took a big risk, got a job promotion, had a baby, learned about a justice issue, set an important boundary, deepened your faith, or cared for an aging parent. Look at all the important ways you have grown. Look at how much more these things matter than the inches around your waist. The truth is that your relationship with your body can never be healed through diet and exercise—not in a real, lasting sense. There will always be something to dislike or criticize—always. Healing your body-soul connection has to come from touching on the sacredness of this vessel you inhabit. That means honoring the many ways your body leads you to develop, expand, and become more than you used to be. That means refusing to punish, restrict, and demean it. That means giving it room to flourish and grow.
Having the gift of long years on this earth means that eventually our bodies will tell the story. Facial wrinkles, sagging body parts, varicose veins, liver spots, unusual moles, renegade body hair, stretch marks, cellulite, and gray hair are a natural and expected part of aging, not a reason for shame. Every human on earth has some combination on that list, and likely a few more. How you choose to manage (or not!) those things is up to you, but the invitation here is to find a kind of neutral acceptance rather than a strong emotional reaction to such bodily phenomena. You can do this by reclaiming perspective.
The more invested you become in the larger social and ecological landscape, the less likely you are to take your own aging too seriously. In a world where tragedy strikes left and right, the very experience of aging is a sheer gift; each day is one more opportunity for God to comfort and heal the world’s pain through you. The years you have on this earth really are too short for all the goodness you wish to bring. How are you using your years? Are you planting flowers, making art, engaging in activism, raising kind children, creating a more ethical workplace, or volunteering in your community? You are so much more than the lines on your face. Right here in this aging body of yours, you are creating, birthing, and building a better world.
Consider this: Have you ever longed for the body you had when you were eleven? How about when you were three? Do you ever wish you were in your eighty-seven-year-old body today? The answer to these questions is most likely no. But truly, the longing to return to your sixteen-year-old body is equally as bemusing as longing for your six-year-old body. They were both good bodies for a moment in time, but you as a human being are constantly changing.
Your body has endured much since your teenage years, and deserves your kindness, not your resentment, for the things she has overcome, survived, and accomplished. As a maturing person of depth and wisdom, you have much to offer those around you, and your body is your tangible connection to those who are seeking refuge and comfort. Together, the wisdom of your aging heart and the softness of your aging body welcome others to be nurtured.
