Of all the features in the geography of quest, none are so deceptively tranquil as the ponds of truth. These ponds are everywhere. More often than not, you pass them by. After all, you are after bigger challenges: vast seas, tall mountains, unmarked wilderness. Sometimes as you pass, for no apparent reason, a shadow of dread touches the mind and then is quickly gone.
Looking west at Lough Doon near Conor Pass (Connor Pass, An Chonair), County Kerry, Ireland ~ æssmith photo
Yet the ponds of truth, small and silver, common in their multitude, of no apparent interest, offer the most dire lessons in understanding. Come close enough to fall on your knees and see into their bottomless depths, and what they reveal will shatter the hardest heart’s defence. Into your own personal darkness will seep a penetrating light, feeding the soul’s renewal.
As humans you and I tend to take the paths of least resistance:
- every kind of shortcut,
- the easy way out of troublesome situations,
- solutions with the fewest demands on our time and energy, and
- lies that bolster or even inflate the ego.
In seeking understanding, in searching for unqualified Truth, the quest demands more. It requires us first of all to know ourselves. As I grow older, I find myself staring into these ponds of truth more often. I see beneath their smooth surface a momentary glimpse of who I really am, and catch a small shard of awareness that breaks my heart. I see where I have been careless with the affection of others, self-centred, impatient, unkind.
Worse things than that lie hidden in those depths, to be taken to God in prayer. If I am blessed, I will catch them all in time. With each breaking of the heart will come repentance and healing, leaving my heart scarred, yet stronger, prepared for the next shock of Truth.
In his book, Prayer of the Heart, the late George A. Maloney wrote:
“Our human heart is both a physical organ and a basic symbol of our existence in life. Even more, the heart symbolizes our transcendence beyond the world, the inner stretching power within our spirit to go toward God in thought and love.”
He goes on to say that the monks of the desert
“… were only being scriptural when they used the heart as the place where we encounter God with all our strengths, but also with all our brokenness and sinfulness that cry out for healing from God. It referred in their thinking also to the “new creation” or, in Pauline terms, “the new man” that was healed, integrated and transformed into a new creature in Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 5:17).”
It is so tempting to hide from truths that knock the props out from under the self you show to others. I know people who admit to this: “I am afraid if I could see what really lies behind the things I do and say, there would be nothing left. I couldn’t rebuild myself.”
Yet this rebuilding is not only possible, but necessary. You exchange a fiction for reality, a lie for truth. Out of that exchange comes great spiritual strength and renewal of the soul, and with God’s help, you gain far more than you lose.
Further reading:
Maloney, George A, S.J. Prayer of the Heart. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1981.