Letting go

It’s raining and windy out, and it's Friday, which means at least one thing: A pensive mood and a blog post that will likely wander aimlessly. Bear with me.
Do you know people who lament, "I don’t have enough time"? I wish I had more hours in the day for …" If we are honest, you have been one them, and I have been one of them. Lutheran writer Janet Ruffing has said: "When I am busy, I can believe myself to be incredibly important to the scheme of things. I become indispensable, necessary. My ego becomes reassured (while this state lasts) that I am productive, accomplishing something worthwhile and valuable. After all, time is money and I am spending it well. I am measuring out the least amount of time possible for each task. By being so efficient, I become free to accept several more engagements, talks, tasks. I am so good at being busy, I continually escalate the demands on my time, attention, and care." Here's an image of importance: Cell phone in the ear. Toddler on the hip. Briefcase/laptop wrapped around the shoulder.
We have a choice in the matter. We don’t have to remain stuck in the frenetic pace. We can let go. Melodie Beattie, in addition to Janet Ruffing above, has long sounded the clarion call on this. And even in 1903, the poet Ranier Maria Rilke, in writing to an amateur poet, offered this:
"You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems, and you are upset when certain editors reject your work. Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. …"
You can read Rilke’s entire letter here
In the world of faith, some communities don’t give in to the cultural temptation to do more, spend more, build more and achieve more--to be busy, or to appear so, for others' approval. Some do.
In his book, "Becoming Who You Are," the Rev. James Martin, S.J., tells a story from his days of training for hospital chaplaincy. Not one drawn to that particular ministry, Martin would psych himself up by imagining the words of the most experienced chaplain, or even Mother Teresa. He didn’t experience a breakthrough with a patient until someone advised him simply to be himself.
Do you wonder if this addiction to busyness (individual and corporate); to rampant consumerism; to trying to be what we’re not; to equating "bigger" with "better" has somehow made us lose the most important parts of ourselves? Namely, our souls?
Send your thoughts.