Laura here. Thanks for joining us in this discussion of Gerald G. May’s The Wisdom of Wilderness.
It’s going to be wild.
I say this tongue-in-cheek, of course, but this is May’s invitation to us–that through his words we may be encouraged in the willingness …to be led into our own wildernesses, there to be taught what we most need to know and to be healed where we most need it.
Ironic how this call to the wild feels so…natural.
Gerald May would not be surprised. He tells us, in the preface:
…the primary meaning of wild is ‘natural’. In turn, natural comes from the Latin nasci, meaning ‘to be born’…Wilderness, then, is not only the nature you find outdoors. It can also refer to your own true Nature—the You that is closest to your birth. This inner wilderness is the untamed truth of who you really are.
And so we embark upon this journey into the wilderness with May as he seeks his natural self; hoping that in this, we too will learn something of our own nature.
May begins his seeking with what he calls a passionate yearning. He recognizes this as a longing for God, his sehnsucht—that God-shaped hole that Pascal and Augustine spoke of.
Sehnsucht.
A German word with limited translation. My online dictionary simply defines it as, you guessed it: yearning.
Yet, instead of dismissing this unquenchable yearning—simply living with the knowledge that nothing of this world will fill—May hears in it an invitation.
Come closer to me.
And so he does.
What ensues is a love affair with nature that lasts until his death.
In this first chapter, The Call, May describes the intensity of his emotional reaction upon meeting the wilderness:
…it’s a deep homecoming, welcoming feeling. I could swear the mountains are reaching out for me, as if they have palpable arms opening, guiding, ready to take me in…I’ve said Yes to a call, and I’ve been taken. I’m in love.
Ah, yes. Didn’t I tell you it was good? These words open me up to being taken by love again. And again, and again.
How about you?
Some food for thought?
**May hears this call to the wilderness during a season of losses. He says, I felt more free than ever, but as is so often the case with newborn freedom, it was deeply tinged with sadness.
This makes me wonder about the things in our life that lead us to search for more. How do you see loss/grief in this light?
**Have you listened to your wilderness this week? Care to share? Tell us what wisdom you have heard whispered on the wind.
Next week: Chapter Two: The Power of the Slowing
Photo of forest by Ann Voskamp. Used with permission. Post by Laura Boggess.
OTHER BOOK CLUB POSTS:
LL’s The Danger of Mary
Monica’s Wilderness Call on the Freeway
Deb at Talk At the Table
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As I read Chapter 1, I was reminded of something. It’s been some time since I went to this nature reserve west of where I live — used to take the (now grown) kids there regularly. The last time, I went by myself and just walked, climbed, descended and sat. I found a piece of bleached tree trunk, coughed up by the river, and sat there and watched the water move. I’m not sure if it’s the quiet or the absence of daily human activity, but it’s there I can find a place to empty my head and listen. And you hear things you ordinarily wouldn’t.
Glynn,
All I can say is Mmmmm. Even reading the experience of others in their wildernesses has given me a gift of stillness. Yours is no different. I know that place you speak of. Next week we will talk more about this slowing you refer to…
i am not quite sure how to put into words any feeling or thoughts of reading something that was written by a person that knew he was close to death and feeling the effects of it.
the first thing i think of about the word wilderness is
They did not ask, ‘Where is the LORD,
who brought us up out of Egypt
and led us through the barren wilderness,
through a land of deserts and rifts,
a land of drought and darkness, [a]
a land where no one travels and no one lives?’
this kind of wilderness. a place that is not comfortable, not home, a place that one goes around in circles, not alone, but, with God. there area places in life that i have been through and i am thinking i might go through in the future, that are hard, dry, painful, dark, and no doubt will cause fear. a place of learning….but do we learn, do we look to God?
I brought you into a fertile land
to eat its fruit and rich produce.
But you came and defiled my land
and made my inheritance detestable.
i don’t understand where we need to go other than into the Love of God.
does God come through the dirt of creation that we are made created from?
through the trees, river, or maybe through a computer message?
i really don’t understand all the ways God speaks to us, but, where do
we need to go to find Him and His Love? somewhere inside of hope and faith?
is that where we find the greatest which is Love?
i wonder if this life, our life, is our wilderness?
a place to learn and believe and follow…God.
I can’t wait for my book to get here. It sounds wonderful Laura. I recently talked with someone close to me who has been running from the Lord for years. He talked about the yearning he has never been able to fill – that place within that the Father has reserved for Himself.
I’ve started to formulate some thoughts on this. What a subject near and dear to me.
So glad to be a part of this.
http://forsakenforlent.blogspot.com/2009/10/park-by-my-house.html
Nancy–
You have me thinking about “the kind of wilderness not comfortable, not home, a place that one goes around in circles, not alone, but, with God.” It seems May sees ahead to the end, doesn’t it? You know, that place where we look back and we see how clearly He was there all along?
When I first read his comment that wilderness means “natural”, I thought, wow, I don’t think I want to get to know my natural self any better than I already do! My natural self would still be going round and round in circles (maybe I still am) if I didn’t do something that felt completely unnatural and turn to HIm.
I love your last comment…yes, maybe this is the wilderness. Won’t it be great when we get home?
Linda and Deb–we are privileged to have you join in our discussion any time!
Thanks, Laura. I’m enjoying the book so far and glad for your smart leading.
I’ve always been uncomfortable with words capitalized and spiritualized as May often does. As much as I enjoy practicing and guiding meditation, and cherish the lessons I gained from a boss who was a Catholic priest and Zen master; as much as I recognize the power of Wilderness as an outdoor guide, my Assembly of God upbringing never let me embrace mysticism fully. I’m not unhappy about this. Just mindful.
I’m looking forward to May’s account, his fine story-telling, and his God-given insights.
Thanks for bringing this up, Sam. I touch on this a little in my next post. I understand what you mean, it makes me a bit cautious too. I don’t know May’s spiritual background, only what Parker J. Palmer tells us in the foreword–that is, the Shalem Institute that May worked with is an ecumenical organization dedicated to “reclaiming the Christian contemplative tradition”. I admit that I do not have much knowledge about mysticism…I’m a Presbyterian, after all (we are the frozen chosen, you know). I’ve always felt more connected to the Lord through nature, and so am enjoying exploring that more in depth. May is a fine story-teller, as you say; and it makes the reading all the nicer.
Looking forward to more of your thoughts!
i found a post from a man that is an artist, dated january 2007. as i read, it remimded me so much of our converstations here, that i just had to produce the link for you all to read.
“woodpecker collage” at http://studiobeerhorst.com/blog/2007/01/04/woodpecker-collage/#Scene_1
Yes. Yes. Yes. I have found it in the barren places of my life and it has called me back when my cup has been overflowing.
For now I am waiting in silent expectation as this unfolds.
Nancy…
I tried to leave a comment for mr. beerhorst, but the entry must be too old? I’m not sure, but the server wouldn’t let me post. it was a sweet entry, thank you for sending me there. it’s always so exciting for me when i catch a glimpse of a downy woodpecker or a flicker flying overhead.
claire–i love how you express this! i wait with you.