Descry me a River

There have been moments in my life when I thought my heart would burst from the impact of an emotion. I woke in the middle of the night to this feeling before and it was so intense--the result of a dream. But other times I felt this "bursting heart" feeling when I was with friends, when we were circled up, so to speak, as in prayer. Fifteen years ago I had an experience in a wooden tower with other people--we were all in church groups from a few different states. The tower somehow made our voices sound so loud and resonant--we sang and sang late into the night. It was a joyful sound. That same weekend there was a huge storm--and I went for a walk along the shore with some of these new friends in the middle of this rain and wind. The sand whipped up and stung our faces; the ocean roared, but it was completely obliterated by the darkness. We could make out a line of foam where the waves crashed, but no matter how long we stared, we couldn't tell the difference between sea and sky. I thought I'd never be happier. Times like this I felt that we were so unified in the feeling, that the heart belonged to all of us. These were powerful moments--largely within the context of church--and I continued to seek them out; I was addicted.

So when I decided to leave the church it was with the knowledge that I was quitting my main source for experiencing these group-think bursting-heart moments. I reasoned that these moments were created by people and to credit them to God, or to make God the center of them was to do myself--really, to do all of us-- a disservice. Selfishly I wanted to stay in the safety of the group, but since I could not agree to the terms of service I felt I could not stay. This was a self-imposed exile.

I have been considering how I might seek out these powerful moments in my life from now on, how I can draw them up from the place I stand. A pretty obvious consequence of leaving the church is simply not being in large groups of singing, contemplative people on a regular basis. I have experienced painful bursting heart moments; these are not moments I seek, though they are obviously no less memorable. Most recently was a beloved family member's funeral--a non-traditional one--but still it hit me like ocean waves of grief. I found it difficult to breathe, and my heart was so heavy I could hardly carry it around.

I wonder if the places I'm seeking in my dreams have anything to do with seeking FEELING--deep connection--when I wander through vast buildings: huge theaters, and long stairwells leading to forests...and truly I do feel like a wanderer in a way. I feel different and out of place every day in my real life. I don't move my life around geographically so much, but I do move from face to face, hand to hand, and I look as deep as I can as I say: Are you like me? Will you understand? What are you looking for?