Help

I recently took some time to wander in the canyon near where I live. I was feeling the need to leave the confines of the pandemic hermitage of my home and go to a spacious place to let my spirit take in the vast expanse of the planet in hopes of feeling the breath of God on me.

But I am always filled with a trembling fear, as I do not know for certain any single capacity in me. Yet I stretch out my hands to God, so that, like a feather which lacks all weight and strength and flies through the wind, I may be borne up by God.

-Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179)

I parked my car, aware of what I wanted to talk with the canyon about. Poet Mary Oliver gave me the words: Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

I believed the parched canyon would know something about me. As I met up with my trail, I recognized the effect of drought all around, as predicted. The landscape looked like it had died. Addressing the bushes and canyon laurel, I asked permission. Can you tell me how are you are? I didn’t want to project how I was feeling onto this place, which was the sense of overwhelming sadness. I listened instead. While the plants didn’t look so good, I didn’t hear despair. It was more like acceptance of the season they were living in.

We stood together for some time. When it felt like my turn, I shared my despair. My fatigue, my sadness about the state of things, my own drought within. It was then that I noticed a couple of these plants looked vibrant. I was drawn to one in disbelief. How do you do that? I whispered. How? All around you is the dead and dying. Was it the moisture from the nearby ocean that was sustaining it? I imagined its leaves breathing in moisture from the air itself. I breathed it in too. Roots are not the only way to find water, I heard. Was that it? It still didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t everything have the same benefit? I urged her to tell me what she knew, willing to accept the sufficiency of sheer silence and mystery.

Then this happened. I heard, Come closer. as if to say, I have something to show you. I have come to trust such conversation. I carefully saddled up to this large species, praying my new companion was not of the poison oak variety. I let her branches embrace this drought girl. How do you stay green in the midst of drought? I asked again. What I heard was this: I have help. What does that mean? I tried to understand and looked as closely as I could, touching her leaves and branches. Then I saw buried in the bramble below a sprinkler head set up at the base of her trunk.

I have help, is what she said. Indeed. That answers that.

And that does answer that. How do you stay green in the midst of drought? You have help.

When I returned to my car, I noticed a whole system of sprinkler heads along the path. Lost in my own drought, I had not noticed any of it. I do need help. And I do have help. And the canyon helped me remember.

A good spiritual companion allows a place for whatever most needs listening to. Not to fix, or change or figure it out, but to offer space to be deeply heard. When I got back in my car, I was gifted with recognizing drought can make you miss and forget things, and companions help you see for yourself and remember.

In this unprecedented and challenging season, our souls do need help. In hopes of offering the world a place of refreshment through community, Stillpoint invites you to consider in this season joining a circle of companions in a spiritual direction group. If you have never experienced this kind of process in community, you may want to begin by trying it out. On the second Monday of the month, we offer an “open” group with a trained facilitator to simply experience Group Spiritual Direction for yourself.

I love this process. It is an intimate, spacious meeting place. It is help for me. I love how silent prayer is an essential part of the process, and having my journey held in the prayerful presence of others helps me see and hear God more deeply. I love that we listen for God on behalf of others, and that this creates spiritual friendship even among strangers. I love the clear structure that honors confidentiality and resists advice giving. And with a good facilitator guiding, I can let go of being in charge.

Rose Mary Dougherty in her book, Group Spiritual Direction writes,

Group Spiritual Direction is a process in which people gather together on a regular basis to assist one another in an ongoing awareness of God in all of life. What draws people to the group is a reciprocity of desire, God’s desire and their desire. Having been touched by God’s desire, they want to make their desire for God the determining factor of all of their choices, and they recognize that they need some help to do this. The Group Spiritual Direction process provides the container for this soul-filled work.

I also love doing this on Zoom. It is a comfortable container where we sit close together and listen quietly. I love that we can be in a group with people in faraway places, but we don’t have to drive anywhere. And when we are done, I am already home.

Of course, it is not for everyone, but my experience has been many people who try it quickly see its gift for their journey and want more.

I invite you to take a look and see if it might be the help your soul is seeking.

Blessings for the Journey, 

Elizabeth+