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Letting Go of Parcels

Today, I am feeling “off” in an “everything is fine but I still don’t feel right kind of way.” It went on for a few days until I finally became so desperate that I needed to go and sit on a boulder next to the constant roar of the swooshing brook at Flat Rock Brook Nature Center. I'm trying to let the sounds of the water drown out all of the oppressive thoughts in my head. Sometimes it takes a while.

This is the view of where I station myself, and I think the video captures the sound. (I know some people use this kind of soundscape for sleeping, but I use it today to combat oppressive thoughts.)


However, one unoppressive thought is conflicting with the rest in my head, a quote I used in the class I'm teaching this semester:
“A man whose hands are full of parcels cannot receive a gift. " C. S. Lewis

Lewis said this about spiritual dryness, and I guess this is a good description of where I am right now: spiritually dry. And my hands are full of parcels, which resonates with me since I work for UPS: United Parcel Service. But the parcels are for me a metaphor of oppressive thoughts about what I need to do, or should do, or ought to do. This is one of the ways religion is oppressive to me, the constant sense that I need to do more. I am mostly past worrying about what I need to stop doing. Now it is about the doing, and the doing is for me the hard part. My sins are sins of omission, the things I should do but I don't.


I have often heard faith explained as a matter of doing and being. I am oriented toward being, and things like contemplation and reflection. I'm not a doer, but the doers have a much better Marketing department, leading me and others like me overwhelmed with guilt and self-loathing because we don't measure up against those kind of expectations. So here I sit next to the waters, putting down the parcels of things I think I need to do and ought to do on a Saturday. While I'm sitting here, three different people walk by on the rocky trail barefooted, as if they are doing penance. I wonder if that is a thing now? But I'm here trying to empty my hands, and mind, so that God can fill them with his gifts for me. As I sit here, I keep feeling like I need to get up and go do something--get a haircut, grade the class assignment, test a computer program for work that is due on Monday, do chin-ups, or even move the suitcases from my March business trips down to the basement from my office on the second floor that I think are in my way every workday--but with each one of these thoughts, I am laying down the parcel so I can receive something else, something better. Being.

You might think it's strange that I would say religion can be oppressive to me since I would also say that my Christian faith is the very thing that saved my life.

During the COVID-19 lockdowns I actually never felt more alive because the doing was curtailed. Doing was not expected during the COVID lockdowns--we were told to stay home! So I worked remotely and taught classes on Zoom at night and preached sermons virtually and felt none of the burden of doing. I have no idea if any of this makes any sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to me. I think my doing is only possible out of a rich core of being. But excess doing hollows out that core and eventually becomes oppressive. And as I sit in these woods today, this is exactly what I'm feeling. I'm letting go of "should's" and "ought's" and "must's" and simply concentrating on being, listening, and thinking. The world has a certain momentum that will carry you along in ways that undermine who you are if you let it. Religion, corporate culture, and perfectionism are all things that bear down on me and get my soul out of whack. You might think it's strange that I would say religion can be oppressive to me since I would also say that my Christian faith is the very thing that saved my life. But there are also aspects of it, aspects that I'll call "religion," that I also find quite oppressive, things that are overwhelmingly tilted towards doing. These are the parcels I'm trying to put down. As I sit besides these waters, God really does seem to restore my soul, just like it says in Psalm 23. But I had to sit here awhile for that to happen. This is what I needed most today rather than another thing to do. Let's see how I do come Monday when the workweek starts again.
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