When Nights are Dark
The seventh principle of Unitarian Universalism calls us to “affirm and promote respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.”
Many among us read this principle as “the environmental one,” using it as an anchor to their committment to caring for the Earth. I read it quite differently, though I value environmental conservation as well.
The interdependent web of ALL existence is a difficult thing to grasp, because what finite human mind can hold a concept of everything else in existence? I know mine can’t. But what I can hold is the vision of my particular place in that web, and the lines of connections flowing to me and out from me, and those particular beings close enough for me to see. My place in the web, and my responsibility for it are what get me through my darkest times.
I am by nature a selfish and solitary being. I would rather hole up with a book and a stockpile of sweets most days than go out into the world and live my life. But when I give in to these urges, when I withdraw from relationships or just go through the motions of them, I am lost and drifting and longing for some intangible something that is missing.
And then, perhaps, I’ll get an email from a friend. “Just checking in - how are you?”
And I am reminded, once again, that there are others in the web who are connected to me, who notice when I withdraw my own connection, who send a little bit of extra oomph when I might be needing it. That we are all, every one of us, connected.
Having those people in my life, my husband, my children, dear friends, and all those people I may not even know who are going through the same struggles and doubts of every day life; it is such a blessing. It’s also a responsibility, which, for me, is sometimes the more powerful part of such riches. These people are dear to me, yes, and I care deeply for them, and I am grateful when they reach out to me. But when I can be that light at the end of the tunnel for someone else, when I can reach out and tug on the threads that bind us and say, “Hey, I was thinking about you - how’re you doing?” — that is when I am called fully into myself, fully into being and loving and caring and living, and fully out of that selfish loneliness.
So, what gets me through the hard night? You do. And I hope that I can do the same for you when you need it.


Comment by Bret
September 3, 2006 @ 3:02 pm
Ah shucks… and you have done the same for me.