Why do we keep hiding our deepest feelings from each other? We suffer much, but we also have great gifts of healing for each other. The mystery is that by hiding our pain we also hide our ability to heal. . . . We are called to confess to each other and forgive each other, and thus to discover the abundant mercy of God. But at the same time, we are so terribly afraid of being hurt more than we already are. This fear keeps us prisoners, even when the prison has no walls! I see better every day how radical Jesus’ message of love really is.
—Henri Nouwen
-
-
Of one thing I am sure. Complaining is self-perpetuating and counterproductive. Whenever I express my complaints in the hope of evoking pity and receiving the satisfaction I so much desire, the result is always the opposite of what I tried to get. A complainer is hard to live with, and very few people know how to respond to the complaints made by a self-rejecting person. The tragedy is that, often, the complaint, once expressed, leads to that which is most feared: further rejection.
—Henri Nouwen -
“Silence stands outside the world of profit and utility; it cannot be exploited for profit; you cannot get anything out of it. It is ‘unproductive’ Therefore it is regarded as valueless. Yet there is more help and healing in silence than in all the ‘useful things.’ Purposeless, unexplainable silence suddenly appears at the side of the all-too-purposeful, and frightens us by its very purposelessness. It interferes with the regular flow of the purposeful. It strengthens the untouchable, it lessens the damage inflicted by exploitation. It makes things whole again, by taking them back from the world of dissipation into the world of wholeness. It gives something its own holy uselessness, for that is what silence itself is: holy uselessness.”
—Max Picard -
Diadochus of Photiki offers us a very concrete image: “When the door of the steambath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says may be good. Thereafter the intellect, though lacking appropriate ideas, pours out a welter of confused thoughts to anyone it meets, as it no longer has the Holy Spirit to keep its understanding free from fantasy. Ideas of value always shun verbosity, being foreign to confusion and fantasy. Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wildest thoughts.”
These words of Diadochus go against the grain of our contemporary lifestyle, in which “sharing” has become one of the greatest virtues. We have been made to believe that feelings, emotions, and even the inner stirrings of our soul have to be shared with others. Expressions such as, “Thanks for sharing this with me,” or “It was good to share this with you,” show that the door of our steambath is open most of the time. In fact, people who prefer to keep to themselves and do not expose their interior life tend to create uneasiness and are often considered inhibited, asocial, or simply odd. But let us at least raise the question of whether our lavish ways of sharing are not more compulsive than virtuous; that instead of creating community they tend to flatten out our life together. Often we come home from a sharing session with a feeling that something precious has been taken away from us or that holy ground has been trodden upon.
—Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers -
“We speak about the events of the world, but how often do we really change them for the better? We speak about people and their ways, but how often do our words do them or us any good? We speak about our ideas and feelings as if everyone were interested in them, but how often do we really feel understood? We speak a great deal about God and religion, but how often does it bring us or others real insight? Words often leave us with a sense of inner defeat. They can even create a sense of numbness and a feeling of being bogged down in swampy ground. Often they leave us in a slight depression, or in a fog that clouds the window of our mind.”
—Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers -
“Before you speak, ask yourself: is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?”
—Sai Baba -
Trust Your Vocation
You have to start trusting your unique vocation and allow it to grow deeper and stronger in you so it can blossom in your community. . . . Look at Rembrandt and van Gogh. They trusted their vocations and did not allow anyone to lead them astray. With true Dutch stubbornness, they followed their vocations from the moment they recognized them. They didn’t bend over backward to please their friends or enemies. Both ended their lives in poverty, but both left humanity with gifts that could heal the minds and hearts of many generations of people. Think of these two men and trust that you, too, have a unique vocation that is worth claiming and living out faithfully.
—Henri Nouwen -
“Never assume anything. I’ve been learning this over and over from assuming. I’ve told people don’t assume, and I still assume. It takes a long time to root this out. Don’t assume. Don’t assume you know. Don’t assume you understand. Don’t assume you have enough data. Don’t assume you’re qualified. One fact can change your whole interpretation of a scenario—just one fact. I’ve seen people hold grudges for years and years and years and years, and then one fact being presented changed it all, like, Oh, I didn’t know that. And then suddenly it’s like, oh man, but like, the last seven years we didn’t talk because you assumed. If somebody says something, don’t assume their intention, even if it looks blatantly obvious, don’t assume you’ve interpreted it right. If you’ve lived with someone for 40 years, still don’t assume just because you know them that well, that you’re right. You don’t know.”
