Heading out the door to catch my flight to Texas via Toronto on January 25, I got a text message that stopped me in my tracks. Later that day, my Jewish friend Arthur would tell me of a Yiddish saying, “Mann Tracht Un Gott Lacht” — “Man plans and God laughs”, and perhaps there were a few Divine chuckles as I read the text on my phone. “Your flight from Toronto to Dallas has been canceled due to possible tornadoes in Texas.” 

But I was undeterred. I’d been anticipating this Contemplative Cohort for months and nothing would stop me. Surely this was a slight hiccup, nothing more. Thankfully, Air Canada rerouted me, but a snowstorm in Toronto derailed (deplaned?) Plan B. Long story short, my “Plan A trip” (12 hours and 2 flights) turned into “Plan D” (30 hours, a hotel in Denver and 3 flights).

Anyone on an adventure or pilgrimage embarks on something called the “Hero’s Journey” (a template well utilized in many epic novels and movies). Whenever a person hears the call to adventure and crosses  from the known to an unknown world, the journey begins. It can happen anywhere, even traveling to a new grocery store. It has 17 stages, but one of the first is called “Threshold Guardian(s)”, which is basically a person or thing that keeps the hero from entering the new world. In other words, it’s an obstacle the hero needs to overcome. It’s even possible for a threshold guardian to turn into an ally. When you’re on an adventure and start to pay attention, it’s amazing to see these guardians reliably show up.

Reading that first text in Winnipeg, I recognized my Guardian. And for most of the day, this dutiful hero overcame. I was ok with it all. I enjoyed the flights (a “retreat in the sky” as writer Pico Iyer describes it), and Air Canada and Lyle were both more than helpful. I was overcoming with seeming ease.

But my “good attitude” finally crumbled during Plan C. The Toronto snowstorm had delayed our departure and I missed my Denver-Dallas connection by mere minutes. I was crestfallen. It was so disorienting and disheartening. I was in a foreign city and had to figure out where to sleep for the night. Hello Plan D. Sitting on an airport bench at 8 pm, this 61 year-old suddenly felt about 10 and I wanted to cry. An intense loneliness set in that neither a phone call from Lyle or prayers seemed to assuage. Not  even a talk with the wisest spiritual guide in the world would have helped. 

Later in the hotel, sleep eluded me as the Guardian amped things up with mocking, taunting and doubt. Surely, I was making a huge mistake in coming. In a previous blogpost, I’d written about my student Tyler who had groaned, “Why am I here?” and now Tyler’s cry became  my own. There was no comfort. Dear reader, perhaps you’ll think I’m being overdramatic when I say it felt like a mercy that my body didn’t just explode. A tiny thought occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong, and that 12 hours in the future I’d be ok. That would later prove to be a God-thought but gave no comfort in the moment. 

All my life I’ve kind of been a little kid, feeling like the world is just a bit too much for me. I over-depend on mentors and relationships to tell me who I am. That night in Denver, at the outset of my contemplative journey, the Guardian held a mirror to my soul. I had to face that 10-year old and trust she’d be ok, realize she needed healing, and that God was benevolent. No relational fix other than God will do.

I knew this mirror moment was part of my pilgrimage, and that it truly was an obstacle I had to overcome. Despite feeling hollow and alone, I uttered my favorite prayer, “I welcome everything that comes to me in this moment because I know it is for my healing.”

And in the morning, sleepy but body still intact, God winked at me with a synchronicity that made me laugh. Curious about which translation they were using, I picked up the Gideon Bible. It slipped from my hands and literally flipped open to Psalm 5. “Give ear to my words O God; consider my groaning…”. A prayer that both Tyler and I needed. 

Enneagram 2s are known for their face of good cheer but when solitude happens (whether by choice or necessity), the relationships that serve as crack cocaine for their need to be loved are gone. Dark  feelings can overwhelm and shock them. Psalm 5 assured me I wasn’t alone. God had heard my groans all along, and had seen me in my dark(ish) night of the soul.

And the still small voice I’d heard during the night had been right. I got to see the Rocky Mountains on my way to the airport, and when I arrived to my cohort (miraculously only 1-hour late), I immediately felt at home. I was in fact more than ok. People were friendly at break in welcoming me, they were talking Enneagram, and the Micah Center itself was hospitable with beautiful contemplative art. The content of the afternoon was already rich. And it was spring!

Now that I’d crossed the threshold, would my transformation begin? Why else had I come? The Hero’s Journey tells me there’s more challenges, temptations and even an abyss ahead. Will I make it? As our teacher Joe Stabile said, I really don’t know if I’ll be faithful, but I do know that God is faithful. I’m in good hands.

(Originally published February 4, 2023)