Embracing the Shadows Sun, 24th February, 2013
This past week was one filled with fire. I'm speaking in this case of the fire of creativity, both in my church life and in my consulting work. Of course, I live for the joy of creativity, but fire cannot burn forever and I need a turn of turning inward.
Last weekend as I walked among the trees on a clear day, I was drawn to the intricate shadows they cast on the ground. Instinctively I did my best to capture them with the camera, but was not yet sure what meaning these images had—but I knew they must hold some kind of meaning. Then yesterday morning, once again, I was drawn to the tree shadows, only this time the sunlight cast the outline of the tree branches onto a flawless palette of white snow.
During my Sunday morning meditation, I was finally able, after a week of frenetic activity, to quiet myself long enough to hear the answer to this puzzle about the tree shadows. The truth is that fire, which also refers to the great ball of fire that we call the sun, by its very nature requires its opposite, shadow. Nothing can survive this ball of fire for long without burning up and it must be balanced by darkness.
More important, the truth that revealed itself to me was that shadows were cast upon the earth, directing my attention downward, back to the ground, and bringing my busy mind to a place of quiet rest.
I frequently claim to see the world in shades of gray. But I could not resist the urge to render these images in classic and stark black and white. Click on the images to the right to see the full photo essay. May you find peace and groundedness in your shadows this week.
This past week was one filled with fire. I'm speaking in this case of the fire of creativity, both in my church life and in my consulting work. Of course, I live for the joy of creativity, but fire cannot burn forever and I need a turn of turning inward.
Last weekend as I walked among the trees on a clear day, I was drawn to the intricate shadows they cast on the ground. Instinctively I did my best to capture them with the camera, but was not yet sure what meaning these images had—but I knew they must hold some kind of meaning. Then yesterday morning, once again, I was drawn to the tree shadows, only this time the sunlight cast the outline of the tree branches onto a flawless palette of white snow.
During my Sunday morning meditation, I was finally able, after a week of frenetic activity, to quiet myself long enough to hear the answer to this puzzle about the tree shadows. The truth is that fire, which also refers to the great ball of fire that we call the sun, by its very nature requires its opposite, shadow. Nothing can survive this ball of fire for long without burning up and it must be balanced by darkness.
More important, the truth that revealed itself to me was that shadows were cast upon the earth, directing my attention downward, back to the ground, and bringing my busy mind to a place of quiet rest.
I frequently claim to see the world in shades of gray. But I could not resist the urge to render these images in classic and stark black and white. Click on the images to the right to see the full photo essay. May you find peace and groundedness in your shadows this week.
