In what do you
take refuge?
When the
local, national or international news bear down on you; when loved ones are
near centers of crisis; when acquaintances' lives are at stake, literally,
because they cannot surrender to the truth; when the illusions (and they are
merely illusions) of control, agency or will are threatened by
facts showing us how we are not, in any measure, in "control"... when
all that muck and despair, death and fear are swirling overhead … threatening
to rain down in flooding destruction … to what do you turn?
Two beautiful
young silky black-haired women knocked on my door in the middle of my workday
morning on Tuesday. They said that in this time of difficulty they want to
bring a message of hope. I was fully aware that their professional-looking
dress and black leather portfolios were filled with their own kind of hope:
perhaps that of a neighbor's conversion to their faith. (This was
confirmed when they handed me a tract at the end of our chat and asked if I had
heard of their sect.) They asked me if I had hope. I told them that, in all
honesty, I feel I must have hope - for my clients, for my family, to help
hold the container of hope for my community. That sometimes hope comes
naturally. That during other periods, I must cultivate hope from the shadows
and dark spaces within. Their hope was offered in the form of scripture from
their holy book. I listened carefully. I thanked them from the deepest place
within. What I found is that I really appreciated their sentiments and gestures,
smiles and kindness even clad in holy garments I choose not to wear, even
though they were an interruption to my work (or perhaps an inspiration for
it?), even though I had no intention of taking on their mantle. We respected
each other's faiths. We found common ground in the truth of spirit, rather than
the name for it. These women turn to their particular religion for refuge.
I turn to my
writing; my own deep spiritual conviction; this earth on which my feet roam. I
told a loved one yesterday that "writing is my miracle!" I
illustrated my proclamation with a small story about how journaling yesterday
morning acted as a balm and catalyst for movement with a larger writing
project. Included in that was a faith that if I just showed up to the page and
remained there long enough, the stuckness (of idea) would be replaced with
liquid movement across that page, and onto the next one, and the next after
that. And I wrote my words using landscape images and earth-inspired language.
These three are intertwined for me - Writing, Spirit, Nature. Perhaps it is my
"religion." I certainly seek to inspire hope and fluidity for my
writing clients, although I am not aware that I am working to
"convert" them to my way. Just offering my own nugget of hope.
In what do you
take refuge? Is it within you, in others, or both within and without? What do
you call your refuge? And, is it an easy place to which you can retreat at a
moment’s notice?
All blog photographs taken by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted.
