“Life is a Circle: Despair May Last for a Night, but Joy Comes in the Morning.”

“Two Frogs” by Christopher Buice

Once, two frogs were hopping through the forest when they accidently hopped into a big churn of cream. The sides of the churn were so slick and slippery that there was no place to hold on to, so the frogs had to swim in circles to stay afloat.

After a long time one frog said, “There is no hope. We’re doomed to drown in this churn.”

The older frog said, “Don’t lose hope. Life is a circle. There are bad times and there are good times. One must endure the winter to see the spring.”

The young frog was not so sure and he said, “You’re wrong. We’re going to die, I tell you!”

And the older frog said, “We must keep hope alive! For if hope dies, we, too, will die. But if we keep hope alive, we will live to see another sunrise.”

But the younger frog was already starting to lose hope and he began to sink down into the creamy liquid.

“Keep hope alive! Keep hope alive!” cried the older one.

Then the younger one started repeating, slowly at first, “Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive.”

The more they repeated the words, the stronger they felt. And the more strength they had, the better they could swim in circles.

As they swam and swam, around and around in circles, an amazing thing happened. They realized they weren’t sinking any more. The cream had turned to butter!

The two frogs were able to hop off the butter and out of the churn. They landed on the ground just in time to see a beautiful sunrise. The older frog said to the younger one, “Remember my son, life is a circle. Despair may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” And the two frogs hopped away into the woods.

I love this story a friend sent to me a while back, particularly this line that comes at the end.  “Remember my son, life is a circle. Despair may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

Such beautiful wisdom. There is indeed much suffering and potentially despair in life, but joy can still come in the morning. That said it won’t just come because night follows day, it will come if we work with faith and hope, if we keep on “churning” on and on for joy. It won’t just be given to us, unbidden, as some unearned Grace, or at least this is what life has taught me. Now of course some times the only work we have to do is pay attention to everything going on around us. Sometimes the work is not to churn madly, like those two frogs, but to focus on everything, that is going on around us and of course within us. Sometimes all we focus on are the things that are wrong, the things that we have lost or are under threat of losing, this causes suffering and potentially despair. We need to see the bigger picture, the gifts all around us, which are of course a free gift. Yes I do contradict myself at times.

There is no doubt that this is going to be a long and difficult winter. We are in the midst of autumn. The clocks fell back last weekend. The day light hours are getting shorter. We are living under stricter restrictions due to the pandemic. We are going into four weeks of "Lockdown" again from Thursday. We are no doubt experiencing so many emotions, a mixture of fear and frustration due to this. Our lives may feel reduced as we face a long winter. The restrictions are unlikely to be lifted I suspect until the spring. That is not me being pessimistic, more realistic. Therefore we need to take care, pay attention, find ways to help one another, support each other and find ways to discover joy, perhaps new ways, to find meaning to help us when life seems too much and thus not be overcome by despair. We will do this, but it will take combined effort, like those churning frogs.

We must learn to surrender to things that are out of our control, to accept the reality and once having done so we can then find the courage and strength to do what we can, for ourselves and one another. We will of course need wisdom to know what these are. We need to remember the good old “Serenity Prayer” “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference.” A beautiful moving and universal prayer that is known the world over and has brought comfort to many in difficult times. It is not a passive prayer as good prayer should never be. Prayer is about finding the strength and direction to do and act in the ways that you must do.

I have shared with many people about the power of “The Serenity Prayer” in so many situations and settings. I recalled one the other day during a trip to Transylvania over eight years ago. One day I found myself speaking with folk in a little place called Ikland, a village that did not have running water and virtually no electricity, there wells in every garden. After I spoke a women in attendance shared about “The Serenity Prayer” and how it helped in dark times, especially when caught up in worry about her children and grandchildren; she constantly worried about what the future might hold. I will never forget the look on this woman’s face. Her name was Elizabeth and I can picture her right now as I remember that beautiful and touching moment. I could see the struggle in the those lines on her face, but I could also hear the faith in her voice and the joy in her eyes as she spoke of her children and grandchildren. It was truly beautiful to witness such deep soulful emotion, she touched a place deep in my heart. The people of Transylvania have struggled and suffered for generations and yet there remains in them a beautiful soulfulness; they know the suffering of life, but also the joy of living, in all its mystery. You should hear them sing. It is a thing of soulful beauty.  

We are living through difficult times, but there is joy to be found, to be uncovered, in our lives. It requires us to pay attention though and to work at times. We need strength and courage to do so. We have to keep on churning and encouraging each other to do so when we feel dispirited.

Sometimes paying attention to the season can help. There is a beauty and a joy even in the falling and dying season that is autumn; a falling and dying that is required for the year to move through its circle that is the re-birth of spring. We do not have to wait for Spring though, or the end of the pandemic, to know and experience the joy present in our very lives. There is a joy in natural beauty of autumn as well as in encouraging one another, despite our sorrow. This brings to mind the rather beautiful poem “Reduced to Joy” by Mark Nepo

“Reduced to Joy” by Mark Nepo

 

I was sipping coffee on the way to work,
the back road under a canopy of maples
turning orange. In the dip of woods, a small
doe gently leaping. I pulled over, for there
was no where else to go. She paused as if
she knew I was watching. A few orange
leaves fell around her like blessings no
one can seem to find. I sipped some
coffee, completely at peace, knowing
it wouldn’t last. But that’s alright.

We never know when we will blossom
into what we’re supposed to be. It might
be early. It might be late. It might be after
thirty years of failing at a misguided wayM.
Or the very first time we dare to shed
our mental skin and touch the world.

They say, if real enough, some see God
at the moment of their death. But isn’t
every fall and letting go a death? Isn’t God
waiting right now in the chill between the
small doe’s hoof and those fallen leaves?

 

We do not need to be reduced despair, despite the very real troubles we all face, we can be reduced to joy. We just need to the courage to pay attention. Sue recently sent me "Brain Pickings" fourteenth anniversary email by Maria Popova. Popova suggests that despite our real suffering, we can choose joy. She is someone who has found herself suffering deeply at times during the pandemic and in this piece she suggests an antidote to despair, something she can do, as like most of us she can offer little by way of vaccine to the virus. She suggests that we can choose joy. “Choose it at first consciously, effortfully, pressing against the weight of a world heavy with reasons for sorrow, restless with need for action. Feel the sorrow, take the action, but keep pressing the weight of joy against it all, until it becomes mindless, automated, like gravity pulling the stream down its course; until it becomes an inner law of nature. If Viktor Frankl can exclaim "yes to life, in spite of everything." — and what an everything he lived through — then so can any one of us amid the rubble of our plans, so trifling by comparison. Joy is not a function of a life free of friction and frustration, but a function of focus — an inner elevation by the fulcrum of choice. So often, it is a matter of attending to what Hermann Hesse called, as the world was about to come unworlded by its first global war, "the little joys"; so often, those are the slender threads of which we weave the lifeline that saves us.”

 

The key it seems is in focusing our attention on the little things and the moments that are around us, things we may not always notice. Now these things may be different for each of us. Although one key that is open to us all is the focus and the discipline of paying attention to what is natural and beautiful. Whether that be the falling leaves, that will return with new life in the coming spring, something we can witness from our windows, or in the voice of the people in our lives. In the dogs that are everywhere at the moment. I love to watch our little Charlie as she frolics with other dogs in the park. I also appreciate the conversations I am engaging in in so many settings. Even deeply difficult ones at times. An example would be last Monday’s “Colours of Grief” on Zoom. It was deeply moving and painful at times and yet its depth turned to joy as we shared our pain and struggle together. There was such a feeling of joy in our shared suffering. A joy not caused by the suffering of course, but in the fact that we were able to share it  with others. We opened our hearts to one another, we shared, we encouraged, we kept on churning and churning, like a zoom room full of those frogs.

We can't control life. We cannot wish life’s troubles away. That said there are things that we can do. It is important how we respond to our personal and shared suffering. Think of the wisdom of “The Serenity Prayer”. We can choose our response as Frankl discovered; it is the final freedom. We can respond with respect, compassion, and kindness. We can honour our sadness and that of others. Instead of resisting the sadness and suffering we can accept them as the natural and necessary griefs of a life lived in and by love. In so doing we connect to the core of our being and in so doing we can be lead to joy as we open ourselves to life and the joy of living that is all around us.

We can find joy even in the hardest stuff, as Frankl did in Auschwitz. If you only find joy in the things we really love then we will become joyless if these things are restricted or removed from our lives. You see there is a joy in the core of us, as there is a joy in the core of life and no one and no thing can take this from us. Our task is to bring this joy to life through our fragile human being and share it with others.

This though is not always easy. We will have to practice, we will have to work for it and we will have to find ways to encourage one another when we feel dispirited and want to give up, just like the frogs in the churner. We are always frogs in the churner. Let us always remember that.

As the older frog explained: “Remember my son, life is a circle. Despair may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

So lets keep on churning on and on and on.

I’m going to end this morning with this beautiful poem “Welcome morning” by Anne Sexton

“Welcome Morning” by Anne Sexton

"There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry 'hello there, Anne'
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.

All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.

So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
let it go unspoken.

The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.”