FCCUCC Book Group discussion

Here are a few questions to get us started. Feel free to comment on them or anything else in these chapters that you found interesting.

1) Would you like to experience one of these "dine in the dark" restaurants? Why or why not? And what do you make of the idea that keeping your eyes open in such darkness is more confusing than closing your eyes?

2) What about the "Dialogue in the Dark" exhibit? Would you participate in one if you had the chance?

3) Jacques Lusseyran, who was blind from age seven, writes about the source of light not being part of the outer world, but part of the inner world. "The light dwells where life also dwells: within ourselves." He also says that the light changed with his inner condition--it decreased with sadness and increased with joy. Without having experienced blindness (I'm making an assumption here, since I do not know all of you), do you agree with his perception? Is this something you have experienced in your own life? How is this connected with depression? J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter books, has said that when she created the dementors, she based them on her experience of depression. (Dementors are creatures that suck all light, warmth, happiness, and joy from people and their surroundings.) I don't have a question here--I just couldn't pass up sharing the HP reference!

4) Lusseyran also speaks to the problems with seeing the regular way: "sight naturally prefers outer appearances," and "Our eyes glide so quickly over things that we do not properly attend to them." BBT discusses what you can know about a table by touching it that you would never know by looking. It made me want to explore things around me with my eyes closed. Have you ever done this?

5)BBT writes, "If you do not have time to pay attention to an ordinary table, how will you ever find the time to pay attention to the Spirit?" This is an excellent question. It brings to mind a similar, though much more earthy question. How well do we know our intimate partners, and through which senses? I hope I don't embarrass anybody here. (I guess one of the advantages of an online book group is we don't have to be embarrassed, and you can ignore this question if it makes you uncomfortable!) For those of you in intimate relationships: consider what it would be like to make love with both partners being blind-folded at the same time. Perhaps this would be different if you typically have sex in the dark or in the light, but even so, complete darkness is far different than romantic lighting. Without any sight, what might you notice that you usually overlook? (Interesting choice of visual term there.) Would you have the same cues, or seek pleasure differently? I'm not giving you homework, and you don't have to report back! I just wanted to ask the question for our consideration.

6) Have you ever been caving? Can you relate to either BBT's or Barbara Hurd's experiences in the cave?

7) The author says that, in spite of our Easter celebrations being announced with Easter lilies, trumpets, and bright lights, the resurrection happened in a cave, in silence, in darkness. "New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark." I think this is true whether you believe in the bodily resurrection of Jesus or the spiritual resurrection of Christ. What do you think?

8) I love the story at the end of the chapter--about realizing that the stone which was so beautiful in the cave is just ordinary in the light. "But the stone is not the problem. The light is the problem. . . . When I entered the cave hoping for a glimpse of celestial brightness, it never occurred to me that it might be so small." I was just telling someone today that I call small epiphanies "epiphanettes." But that's not what she means by small. What do you think she means, and what does this mean in your life?

9) "At least one of the day's lessons is about learning to let go of my bright ideas about God so that my eyes are open to the God who is. Wild or not, God is a cave I do not want to miss." What do you think of these statements?

What else captured your attention?

Visual information can be so overwhelming. When dusk comes I often feel like letting out a sigh of relief. BBT said that after dark all the other senses wake up. Maybe the sense of sight is the one sighing - relinquishing the reins to other senses when nigh falls. I wonder if eliminating sight would lead to fewer prejudices? If we all had to know a person by touching their face, would we feel a greater bond between our brothers and sisters? I liked the idea of an Opaque Church and giving up one kind of vision in hope of another.

On another note . . . I was glad to learn that our bodies do emit a sound which can be heard when there's silence. I have often heard that "buzz" and wondered if there was something wrong with me! Now I'll have to see if I can differentiate the high one from the low one . . .

Lyn, I had never thought of dusk bringing a sense of relief from the day, but I absolutely connected with your thought as I read your comment! I've always taken joy in being an early riser and making the most out of the day. I'd assumed that my exhaustion by early evening was just energy deletion, but maybe it is my other senses crying for some attention (I am a strong visual learner). I'm going to be more mindful of my other senses throughout the day...

Thank you, Lyn, for your insight.

To Cindy's point 3:

I didn't know that JK Rowling has based the Dementors on her experiences with depression, but it makes perfect sense, It's been many years since I read the HP book series, and I can't remember how Harry fought the Dementors. I hope JK portrayed his battles in ways that would provide instructive tools for readers to deal with life's dark moments.

My offline book group is currently reading "All the Light We Cannot See", about a blind French girl during WW II coping with Nazi occupation. The author includes fascinating and beautifully written perspectives on darkness and light. FMI: http://www.amazon.com/All-Light-We-Ca...

To answer Debra's question: You fight dementors by casting a patronus--a creature of light, unique to each person, that forms a shield between you and the dementor. More importantly, you recover from dementor attacks by eating chocolate!

When I read point #4 I think of how some things are easier to do "by feel". You can describe a procedure for pages but the only way to really know how to do it is by letting your hands feel their way. Think of braiding hair or tying a necktie or bow tie. Even doing dishes or folding clothes can be a zen experience where your mind can go other places because the task is so familiar and muscle memory takes over.

When I was growing up, I lived on the campus of SMCC when it was a newly minted technical school carved out of an old fort (Fort Preble). It had so many cool places to explore, like the "dungeons". These were passages into the bunkers that were relics from when the fort was used for defense. We could explore them back then. We'd go down part way and allow our eyes to adjust, and then past the bend in the passageway where very little light penetrated and it felt very dark. It was always creepy but exciting at the same time, having to rely on each other. You had to tamp down the fear when you stepped on something soft or tripped in the dark. It was like being in another world. I still think of it when I smell a musty concrete stairwell or basement. Telling stories or just being there in silence was a time out of time experience.

I liked the admonishment that when caving you need to keep looking back as you descend, as things never look the same coming out as they did going in. Considering the experiences we sometimes have in a cave or in the dark, this can refer to both our physical and our emotional/spiritual state of being.

Thank you for your thoughts, Judy. I love hearing about your exploration of the passages. I don't think I could do it, but I'm fascinated!

I would love to experience the Dine in the Dark dinner or the Dialogue in the dark. The notion that many of the diners keep their eyes shut makes complete sense; it makes my eyes hurt thinking about straining to see in the dark.

So much of our brains are devoted to visual stimuli that it is very difficult for me to focus on any other senses with my eyes open (I have to shut my eyes to listen well, for instance, or to smell something). Closing my eyes is also the only way for me to attain any sort of stillness during meditation or prayer or anything. For me, it takes darkness to feel close to God, or even myself really.

I really like that last sentence, Jennifer. That's powerful.

I just have to say that I am loving all the discussion here of these two chapters of the book! From focusing on using more of our senses than just sight, to the discussion of the Dementors in the Harry Potter books (An absolute YES from me re: the healing powers of chocolate!! Ha ha), to the book recommendation for "All the Light We Cannot See" (added it to my Goodreads list, it sounds incredible!), to the talk about caving and similar experiences like Judy's exploring the "dungeons" at SMCC, I am intrigued by it all and am loving the thought-provoking conversation we are having here. It makes me reflect back on BBT's statement: "One thing I am sure of is that being in a cave with people who know what they are doing is the only way to go. Being in this cave alone is not something I want to think about." This reminds me of why I value being a member of a supportive faith community--the dark "caves" of life can be tough to navigate alone. And I most certainly include all of you in my definition of "faith community" . . . thank you for being part of exploring this book and sharing your lives with me over this Lenten season. It has been such a blessing!

I also wanted to add that the author's experience with and research on caving was fascinating to me. For one thing, what on earth must it be like to be inside one of the "unfriendly" caves, as compared to the "friendly" caves (p. 116)? That is hard to imagine. And I definitely found myself meditating on this chapter about caving and how "New life starts in the dark" during the Easter service I attended on Sunday. How very beautiful and moving to think of new life springing forth from something so dark and seemingly dead!! This inspired me so very much.

This reminds me of why I value being a member of a supportive faith community--the dark "caves" of life can be tough to navigate alone. And I most certainly include all of you in my definition of "faith community" . . . thank you for being part of exploring this book and sharing your lives with me over this Lenten season. It has been such a blessing!

I agree with this 100% and wish I could express myself as well. I'm glad you joined in, Dori. It is too bad you live so far away!

What a wonderful journey this has been. I didn't know most of you when we began but feel like we're close friends in a way now that we've listened to each other in "the dark". Hadn't thought of it that way before, but it has been like having a conversation in the dark with no other cues except our words. You have all added your inner light to my path. Blessings on you all.