Holding Hope With Humor

Episode Nine from the Center the Absurd Meditation Podcast where we engage deeply and mindfully with the silliest and most absurd spaces within ourselves in order to find levity and relief from the pains and stresses of our human existence. Today’s meditation focuses on holding hope during difficult times.

Music Credits:
'Phase Shift' by Scott Buckley - released under CC-BY 4.0.
‘Shoulders Of Giants’ by Scott Buckley – released under CC-BY 4.0.

Photo Credit: Zain Abba

Transcript

Welcome to the Center of the Absurd meditation podcast,

Where we engage deeply and mindfully with the silliest and most absurd spaces within ourselves in order to find levity and relief from the pains and stresses of our human existence.

Today's meditation practice focuses on holding hope during difficult times.

Find a quiet place and start by moving into a comfortable position.

If it helps you relax and focus,

Close your eyes or find an object on which you might focus your attention.

Take a breath and notice the feeling of the air passing through your nose.

Breathe out and feel the air release.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Take another breath,

Only this time,

Fill your lungs with air,

Pause,

Then see if you can take another small breath before relaxing and exhaling through your nose or mouth.

Take a breath in,

Another bit of breath,

Then breathe it all out.

Feel the tension letting go,

Each muscle in your body releasing and allowing any tightness or stress to melt out of you.

Continue breathing at a comfortable pace as we move through a story experience together.

This story starts in a village not too far from where you are.

Picture the village and see the road to the village rolling over hills,

Winding through valleys,

Leading into a small town.

See the little shops,

The town center,

The gardens,

And tree-lined paths lined with small,

Well-kept homes.

Deep deep in a secluded wood north of the village,

There lives a traveler.

See the small cabin where the traveler lives,

Smoke rising from the chimney,

Smell the damp earth,

The cedar and oak.

Immerse yourself in the quiet coziness,

The light trickling through the tall trees surrounding the warmth of the tiny home.

Now sporadically,

When the season was right,

This traveler would set about a trek to the closest village.

They would fill a large burlap sack to the brim with all kinds of goods,

And then,

With great effort,

Sling the sack across their back,

Securing it in place with cords that wrapped across each shoulder and tied tightly around their waist.

On some journeys,

The traveler carried so many things,

It wasn't unusual for a few objects to be sticking out from the top of the sack or under an arm,

Or even to come loose and fall away.

The traveler would head toward the village,

Depending on the weather and the road conditions,

A trip that could at times take several days.

At times,

Storms raged and soaked the traveler.

Other times,

The sun beat down and exhausted them.

But the path was well-worn,

And despite obstacles or challenges,

The traveler persisted.

Along the way,

They would stop to rest,

Enjoy a bite to eat or a cool drink from a passing stream,

Or just sit for a while and doodle in a small notebook they carried,

Capturing in scribbles some of the beautiful,

Interesting things they passed along the way.

One autumn,

The traveler set about their journey,

Arriving in the village just as the sun was going down.

The traveler noticed the village was unusually quiet,

And that all of its residents were tucked away in their respective homes,

With curtains drawn or the lights turned off.

Normally,

The traveler needn't introduce their arrival.

No matter the time of day or the conditions,

There was always a lamp lit at the front gate,

And it was common for villagers to see them coming down the road and to run up to greet them excitedly,

Anxious to see what treasures they were carrying.

This evening,

However,

Seeing no activity and no sign of life,

Much less of excitement,

The traveler chose to announce themselves.

I am here!

They shouted.

Come see!

I am here and have many things to share with you!

After a few moments,

Hearing nothing but crickets chirping,

The traveler saw a few doors open and a small group of villagers emerge from their doorways and move slowly toward the traveler,

Who was still wearing a heavy pack.

Quiet,

You,

Said one of the villagers.

This isn't the time for such things.

We have work in the morning and have more important things to tend to than all that junk you carry in your sack.

Nothing you bring is of any use to us.

It's nothing we need.

The traveler was confused.

They untied their pack and pulled several items out,

Offering them to each villager in turn.

But here is a banjo.

It's old,

But it plays well.

The villagers scoffed.

The traveler set the banjo to the side and reached in the sack with both hands,

Pulling out several votives that clinked together.

Here are some candles.

They've been burned down a little,

But there's still a lot of light left in them.

The villagers remained expressionless.

The traveler gently set the small candles aside next to the banjo,

Then pulled out several large empty wooden frames.

These they set next to what was becoming a small pile on the ground.

These frames,

They said excitedly.

These frames could hold art or important photos or memories.

You can use them to protect and display what's precious to you.

Seeing no reaction,

The traveler continued pulling item after item out of the sack,

Setting each on the growing pile,

Seemingly discarded,

Rejected.

This rake,

This old iron cooking pot,

This shiny red ball,

These bricks,

This reel-to-reel tape recorder.

The traveler was stunned.

Still no response.

A couple of the neighbors had turned and were walking back to their homes.

Shaking their heads,

They mumbled to each other.

It's embarrassing.

It's pathetic.

What a waste of our time.

You're a fool,

My friend,

Said one villager,

Clapping the traveler on the shoulder.

It's dangerous carrying all of this on your back.

It will do you in.

It's too much.

It's heavy and a waste of good energy.

He's right,

Chimed in another villager.

It's time to set aside all of this silliness.

You can rest.

There's nothing you need to do here.

Why don't you come to my house with me?

You can have some soup and get some sleep on our sofa.

In the morning,

You'll see things more clearly.

The traveler tossed the now-empty sack on the pile of discarded items and,

Shoulders slumped,

Followed behind the villager who had been kind enough to offer a place to stay.

This was not what they had expected.

It was all so confusing,

Depressing,

Disheartening.

The traveler was discouraged,

But now was not the time to make sense of it.

There was much to think about,

But for now,

It was wiser to be intent on at least getting some sleep and a warm meal.

That night,

The traveler slept surprisingly well.

In the morning,

The villager and his family offered up warm toast thick with fresh butter.

There was laughter and storytelling,

Until finally,

The traveler stood and gathered their coat which was hanging by the door.

You know,

The traveler said,

Even if it's the case that no one wants the treasures I bring,

I think I will continue these visits.

It warms my heart,

Fills my belly,

And reminds me that while I live alone much of the time,

I have many friends and neighbors who are close at heart.

I look forward to seeing you next time.

Yes,

The villager responded with an enthusiastic wave,

Next time.

The traveler headed out,

Closing the door behind them.

As they walked through the town center toward the front gate,

The traveler noticed that a couple of houses had a small votive candle burning in the front window.

In a wide field,

They could see a lone gardener dragging a rake,

Turning over the dark,

Rich soil.

There was a group of villagers scrambling to stack loose bricks alongside a low wall to fill gaps and bolster its strength.

Five children ran suddenly across the road in front of them,

Laughing and chasing,

Kicking a shiny red ball which they scooped up and bounced among them.

The pile of discarded items was gone,

Even the worn burlap sack.

There was only the old banjo,

Propped up carefully along a fence post.

Passing,

The traveler picked up the banjo,

Swinging the tied leather strap over their shoulder.

They weren't sure they knew how to play the instrument,

But thought it might bring them some joy to try plinking and strumming it later that night.

Hope can feel heavy sometimes.

It can be messy,

Hard to hold on to,

And the carrying can feel very lonely,

And hope takes many forms.

Hope is where we often find connection.

Hope is relentless.

Without it,

Things can seem drab,

Flat,

Stuck.

Hope that is discovered and shared is powerful.

It can be soft.

Hope is never forced and always offers an invitation.

Even when we resist it,

It's not unusual for us to circle back to it.

Hope changes the landscape,

Fosters creativity and generosity.

Hope is a form of resistance and joy.

Joy is what defines the life we love enough to want to fight for.

Finding joy,

Even in small things,

And holding hope,

Are radical acts.

Every village needs a traveler.

Sometimes,

You will be there to greet them.

Sometimes,

You will be the one traveling.

May the light at the front gate always burn brightly,

And may you journey in safety and good company.

Reviews

Idk what to say, I’ve resonated with this traveler, currently finding myself to being that exact traveler in a little village living alone with my cat in a small little house at the top of a mountain hilltop hiking up and down hills carrying groceries all on foot.

I’m also in the process of decluttering so I can pack lightly for my next venture, but a lot of the stuff holds such sentiment, this meditation made me realize that almost all the things I’m having trouble of letting go of are filled with hope.

Life has been so hard, but this meditation sure brought me the peace, the hope and the glimpse of joy that I needed on this first day of the year. Thank you Jenn, happy new year and may God bless you 🤍