Finding Home
“We have
to contact the center of our being because there we have contact with
the center of the universe. Because we are cut off from our center
and the center of the universe we feel, and are, exiles imprisoned in
the world of multiplicity and mere existence, longing to awake and
journey back to the center which is our heart and our home...the
truth is that the secret desire of our heart is for (this) lost
paradise.”
Cecil
Collins (The Vision of the Fool and Other Writings, p. 90)
About six blocks from
where I live is the hip new club area of gentrified Avondale. Once
upon a time, it was a mill-village that grew up around a textile
industry. The Avondale Mills provided employment for generations of
Alabamians from 1897 until 2006. It sits right on the main east-west
railroad lines and until recently had fallen into decline and even
blight. Now, it's the scene of a bustling night life with a brewery,
several restaurants, a couple of antiques boutiques and coffee shops,
and at least five nightclubs with lots of loud music, louder voices
and flowing beverages. Now that summer is here, the outdoor venues
are open, and the party has moved to the patios and sidewalks. From
my house, I hear everything from rock to mariachi, and as the night
goes late they grow louder, interspersed with trains whistling across
the road right in the middle of the action. It's quite the scene.
Needless to say, I'm not part of it except as a passive listener.
As I listen from my
bedroom late at night, I am reminded of the Prodigal Son—of the
years that he was away spending his inheritance on pleasure. I'm not
judging the boy, mind you—I did the very same thing in my youth.
It's a passage, and believe it or not, it's a necessary passage. The
young folks at the brewery and other clubs are searching for the
center of the universe—they just don't know it yet. You can't know
it until you end up for the hundredth time sick and hung-over, and
weary of the debauched life that's getting you nothing but poor
health and high credit card bills you can't pay. Remember that old
song by Burt Bacharach from the 1960's:
“What's
it all about, Alfie
Is it just
for the moment we live...
As sure as
I believe there's a heaven above, Alfie
I know
there's something much more
Something
even non-believers can believe in
I believe
in love, Alfie...”
The
center of the universe, the center of our being, is what we're all
looking for. They are the same, eternally one, and available at all
times in all circumstances. Like the Prodigal, all we need to do is
turn our faces toward home.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
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