The dark DreAMy places

The other night in I-have-no-idea-what-town-I-was-sleeping I had this strange dream that can only be fallout from all these weeks on the road. The short version is that I was at an African-American pentecostalish/baptist-like church and somehow was asked to speak that day. (Which makes it all the more a dream since I am very white). What I found myself speaking on was…silence. In fact, I was speaking with the cadence and loudness that would do any black-preacher proud. I went on about how for all we do in life, the biggest need is silence, that if we desire to be known we need to seek silence, that the tell of intimacy is silence, and so filling our lives with noise is really a running from intimacy with our Creator.

During the teaching, some people got up from their seats disgusted and left…. They were mostly white folks. It was the rest of the crowd that started in with the “Amens!” and “speak it!”

I woke with a clear sense that my soul is longing for some solitude – the kind that doesn’t end with me re-packing my bags, getting in the car and driving to the next town.

The dream analyst of the world can have a field day with this one, I am certain. The most interesting analysis, so far, came from my friend Erin. Over coffee at Epoch she said something along the lines that maybe the dark parts of my subconscious are longing for some silence and peace. It took awhile for that possibility to settle in. I think, in part, because like most of us, I don’t like to think of my darkness – it’s far too close. Yet, like all things there is a darkness in us that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, probably more along the lines of the mysterious than anything else. Maybe the mystery has been too long fighting for a chance to be heard so it can come to rest in that silence that is intimate and known, that doesn’t need to ask for attention or to be heard in the first place.

Being on the road as I’ve been lends itself to less time and space for self-reflection than I am used to. It’s far too easy to keep busy and involved with people than give voice to those more unknown parts of a soul that desire to be known. As the weeks tick on by, the ease with which I do this increases with every mile I drive.

Sometimes it takes a “home” of sorts to be free enough to be silent…sufficient to be known.