A Contemplative Moment

I remember the community laughter when a recent visitor spoke of coming to Koinonia for contemplation, because there was the automatic acknowledgement that, in reality, contemplation is more difficult to find here (at least right now) due to our day-to-day busyness. That is sad to me, because it is very, very peaceful here – even in the midst of our busyness. And I know how much we need contemplation among all the “other” that we do. It is easy to not think as clearly, when we must rush from one project to another. Nevertheless, the one thing I am glad to keep hearing from visitors is how much they are “fed” here. They inevitably speak of receiving more than they give, no matter how hard they have worked here. Perhaps that’s because part of our “work” is the feeding of our visitors – not just with our noon meals during the week, but with our own souls and hearts. As Clarence once told Milliard, “People are more important than pecans.”

I’m an introvert by nature (no laughter here, please), so I know with certainty the need for contemplation -- even for you extroverts. I receive my own energy by being alone, not being with people. So I have to “back up and regroup” before and after being with people – especially LOTS of people. Otherwise, I become drained very quickly. That’s also why you won’t hear me chatting in the office much. Laughing yes – chatting a bunch, no.

When I was counseling in the addiction field, I felt almost in a vegetative state at night during the week and on weekends. Two hours of daily group therapy with very hard-core addicts will do that to you, not to mention the individual time spent with some of the same people. I understand, if only in a human sense, Jesus “feeling the power go out of him” when he was touched by a woman who wanted healing. I understand the line from “Jesus Christ, Superstar” when Jesus is surrounded by a swarm of people, all reaching out for him, when he cries out, “Stop – there are too many of you!”

I remember my mother, and how there was frequently too many of “us” (seven children). I’m still amazed that I woke to hear her humming or singing most days. She woke my sister closest in age to me, and I each day with “Good morning, pretty ladies.” I miss contemplating with my mom. It was easy and refreshing to be in her presence without any words. She didn’t talk a great deal, but when she did, I wanted to know what she thought and felt. A friend who had spent some time in our home during growing up years told me a few years ago that she remembered my mother as a very elegant lady. Others have made similar remarks. I think she would have laughed at that, but enjoyed the tribute. She was elegant at times – She looked great in a hat and gloves. Her younger pictures reveal her as someone who would have been known as “a real looker”.

But her primary elegance was in treating other people elegantly. She was a gentle spirit that treated other people gently. That, in spite of the fact that she swung a mean ax at a chicken for dinner, and a steak didn’t have a chance with the meat cleaver/tenderizer in her hand. After all these years, I know that’s how she relieved a lot of stress. I’m amazed that none of us were the recipient of her stress. God knows there were times when each of us deserved to be – not with an ax or a meat cleaver, mind you.

May we always treat those who come here “elegantly”. And may we all find those times of contemplation that we truly need.

Fairy L. Caroland currently serves at Koinonia Farm in Americus Georgia