Today’s Word from Sheila Weidendorf…
I am writing this from the rooftop of our Rajasthani farmhouse, nestled in the arms of the Aravali Mountains outside of Udaipur. Udaipur is a gleaming white marble city known as “The City of Lakes.” The historic palace of the royal line of Udaipur floats on Lake Pichola, sister to nearby lakes Udai Sagar and Fateh Sagar. Incidentally, my home city of Minneapolis, Minnesota is also known as the City of Lakes—a fact I took as a good sign back when I first knew I’d eventually be moving here. (Another little tidbit about Udaipur: This region is the source of Indian marble—the marble used to build the Taj Mahal in the state of Uttar Pradesh AND used to build our farmhouse—but I digress…)
The land here is rocky and the soil red. Scattered stones shimmer in the penetrating desert light—sandstone and quartz and granite schist and dazzling deposits of mica-infused zinc. Everywhere are blooming trees and undergrowth softening the arid landscape. From our mosaic-filled rooftop (standard issue here!) you can see the village women in their bright sarees, water urns or firewood on their heads, leading their goat herds home. You can also see the occasional fox or wolf or leopard. You can hear the laughter of the tribal children floating from their hillside villages, and the call of many birds penetrating the air. Every other night there is some village festival or celebration, filling the evening skies with the drumming of the dhole and music resounding into the night. As always, India is nothing if not a sensory delight!
And did I mention the light? It is winter here—which feels a little like early Island summer. Nights are 45-50 degrees, and the daytime 68-78 degrees or so. Mornings are often foggy, giving way mid-morning to a most persistent sunlight. It penetrates the skin and the bones and offers a welcome reprieve from the damp cold of our Island winters. In the evening I watch the sun set – no, sink – into the mountains in a brilliant blaze while, across the sky the moon rises just as red as the setting sun.
As it happens—though I am currently 13.5 hours ahead of Trinity/Island time—it is the same sun that sets on Whidbey, the same moon that rises, the same light that penetrates and permeates. This is cause enough for celebration. There is, ultimately, no distance, no separation, no division, but what we ourselves have created in the individual and in the collective mind. Whether we find ourselves on Whidbey Island or on a rooftop in Rajasthan, we are all manifestations of Life living itself, of God revealing and reveling in God’s Self and in God’s love for creation. We are all created in God’s image and all called to not only partake but to participate in the Light of Christ. We are One in this Light, and that is a blessing for sure.
Sometimes when I write I worry that the India-infused spiritual sensibilities that inform my experience of the Christ within us and in our midst might offend. On the other hand, I can only write from my own experience and share my own ponderings, colored as they are with my particular set of hermeneutical lenses. I suppose I agree with one of my seminary mentors, Dr. Mary Bednarowsky, as she addressed an inter-faith colloquium of Jewish, Muslim, and Christian feminist theologians: “True and meaningful discourse requires that we be willing to offend—not TRY to offend, but willing to speak our truth for the sake of expanding our mutual understanding.”
I don’t know if my sharing expands anything at all. I do know that the opportunity to participate in and share my music and my musings with this community has been a great blessing to me, and for that I thank you all. That’s enough for this Rajasthani rooftop reverie. I’ll be seeing you soon.
Click HERE to listen to today’s musical offering; one of my own improvisations, “Om Shamtih.”
With Love, Sheila
