by Carolyn Goddard
Nashville, Tennessee, USA
Two years ago, to escape the heat and humidity of August in Nashville, my husband rented a place on a lake in Quebec. (He may also have wanted to avoid the hardly significant complaining of his Midwestern wife who thinks summers are meant to be enjoyed outside.) One of wonderful aspects of lakes in southern Canada is that many of them have nesting loons during the summer months. The haunting calls of the loon family on Lac Forget drew me into a kayak and out onto the lake each sunrise. One morning, thick fog obscured my vision; I kept close to shore to ensure that I would be able find my way home. Of course, a metaphor occurred to me. If the Divine is shrouded in a fog of unknowing, contemplative praying might be compared to the practice of hugging the shoreline. In the fogginess of life, I need such practices to maintain my bearings.
This year, my husband and I returned to the same lake. Once again, I was out each morning to commune with the two loons on the lake. Sadly, this year there was no chick – possibly due to the unusually rainy spring. The loons offered me yet another metaphor for living contemplatively. Once the chicks are old enough and strong enough to fish for themselves, the adult loons call to loons on adjoining lakes to come visit them. Loons, who have been isolated on their own lakes for most of the summer, gather in a remarkable way. They swim together in a circle, bowing their heads to each other. Suddenly, one or more of the loons will dive underwater. When they surface, all the loons form a circle again, swim around a few times bowing to each other, before some loons dive again – and the ritual is repeated. Rather like those of us who gather to Center, the circles are open to any loon who wants to participate – and this gathering in a circle has a purpose. In the autumn, these loons will leave the Canadian lakes and fly together to the Atlantic Ocean for the winter. Loons from the various lakes will journey together, guided by Mystery, to a space where they will shelter.
I have gathered with many of you in-person or on zoom; I have gathered with all of you in Spirit. I bow to the Spirit that calls us together, the Spirit who manifests in you. Together may we continue our spiritual journey, sheltered in each other’s Presence. 
*Irish proverb, “In the shelter of each other the people live.”
images courtesy of Carolyn Goddard
