We need to recover an oasis of silence within the rhyme and reason of our active life, for it is in the silence that we meet the face of God. ~ Max Picard
It is still dark as I type these words. The sliding doors of the guest room at my parents’ house in Florida are open to warm night air, the rolling sounds of distant traffic, the first low laments of mourning doves. For the last week my mom and I have been alone here together. Our plan when we arrived was to spend these precious days taking walks, reading our books (I ambitiously mailed myself a whole box from home), exercising, making healthful meals and enjoying each other’s company.
We’ve done some of that. But in all honesty, we’ve been distracted from our modest intentions. The drama playing out in Washington has overshadowed too many waking hours. Instead of immersing myself in the novels on the bedside table, I succumb to the pull of three or four different newspapers and magazines on line.
In years past, my mom and I would spread craft supplies out on the table and create home-made cards and tiny hand-sewn books with leather covers. This year, we’ve been sharing articles and posts from our Facebook and Twitter news feeds. And watching Colbert and Saturday Night Live clips. And making phone calls to senators and representatives. And signing petitions. And donating money. (And, as I mentioned here last week, not sleeping all that well.)
A few minutes ago, when I switched on the bedroom light and reached for my laptop, this quote about silence was the first thing I saw. It arrived at the top of an invitation to a contemplative retreat. The words leapt out — an oasis of silence. I wanted to sign up immediately.
I can’t run away to that small wooden cabin in the woods. But I am here for one more week, in a quiet house by a quiet canal in a neighborhood where, it seems, most of the neighbors are staying north for the winter. I’ve got no real obligations other than to be good company for my mom and prepare some talks to give next month. There’s nothing to stop me from creating my own oasis of silence right where I am.
Perhaps you’re ready for a break, too.
In phone conversations with friends over these last days I’ve noticed a creeping sense of exhaustion and overwhelm. We are all deeply concerned about the country. We are also tired and sad, embarrassed and anxious. We’re having a hard time focusing on the present moment, or getting work done, or even committing to plans for the future. As one friend confessed the other morning, “I just don’t wake up with the same sense of joy and optimism about the day that has always been such a part of who I am, and of my life here.”
My friend happens to actually live alone in a remote wooden cabin. Full of books and plants and artwork, her home is nestled into a hillside and surrounded by a magical garden — a sanctuary not just for her, but for all the wild creatures with whom she shares it. What she has created there really is an oasis of silence, an oasis fed by a spring of joy. These days, she admits, the spring is more of a trickle.
As citizens of the larger world, we are all struggling. How many checks must one write to the Natural Resources Defense Fund before one can step into the backyard and look a beloved old apple tree in the eye? How many phone calls to a Senator does it take before you feel you’ve done your civic duty for the day and are free to go to the movies or take a walk with a friend? Can a blog essay published or an article shared on Facebook create an authentic experience of opening and empathy, or are we just bouncing all these words around in an echo chamber of our own creation? How do we connect with those who hold different views of our problems? How do we begin to work together toward possible solutions? I haven’t found anyone yet who’s come up with a definitive answer to such questions. We are all finding our way.
After the election, The New York Times was so inundated with accounts of hate crimes and harassment occurring across the country that they began gathering the stories into a weekly round-up under the heading This Week in Hate. These are things I would rather not know about. At the same time, I feel a sense of responsibility; it is my duty, as an American, to know what cruelties my fellow Americans are inflicting upon each other. And, too, how my fellow Americans are suffering at the hands of their neighbors.
I used to love opening my email to find notes in my inbox from readers eager to share the parallels and synchronicities in our lives. These days, I click open notes from strangers not with joy, but with dread. Many of them are cruel and accusatory: “You’ve become unhinged.” “What happened to make you so hateful?” “You should stop writing and pray to God to clean your mind.” “Unsubscribe me.” These are just emails, silent messages that I can respond to with civility and then delete. But they do serve a purpose. They deepen my empathy. If a few angry emails cause my mouth to go dry and my heart to pound, I can only imagine how it must feel to awaken to find your tires slashed and a swastika on your car windshield, or feces dumped in your yard, or hateful words scrawled across your driveway. I can only try to imagine the terror of having your front door broken down at 4 a.m. by a team of customs agents emboldened to arrest first and ask questions later.
Here in Florida, where every repairman, construction worker, garbage man, and yard crew I encounter is clearly from somewhere else, I make it a point to wave, to smile, to say hello. It doesn’t feel like much. In fact, nothing I could possibly do would ever be enough. I know that’s part of what’s troubling me, this sense of helplessness. No matter how much any one of us reads, posts, calls, marches, meets, tweets, or donates, it’s not ever going to feel like enough.
But there’s another hard truth that’s also begun to sink in. What we’ve got here is not some passing crisis in the White House, but a long road that’s already irrevocably transformed the assumptions we make about our government, our security, and our daily lives, both as individuals and as a nation. We must stay engaged and informed. We must find ways to show up, speak up, and reach out. But we must also pace ourselves. We must rest. We must clear a space in our days for quiet. We must take time to think and to reflect, not just react in despair or outrage to the latest headlines. We must, in the words of writer Cheryl Strayed, be sure to “put ourselves in the way of beauty.” We must remind each other of our optimism. And our goodness. We must feed our souls and nurture our spirits so that we can continue to serve as ambassadors of peace and healing in the world.
Today, here, I am stepping into an oasis of silence. I’ll squeeze oranges for breakfast. I will go out for a walk and listen to the wind tossing the palms. I’ll sit in the shade and finish reading the collection of almost unbearably beautiful short stories I began last night. I’ll talk to my children and husband on the phone and do some yoga and make dinner for my mom. I’ll leave the TV off and the newspaper untouched. I’ll put myself in the way of beauty.
I hope you’re taking gentle care of your own soul today, too. Together, we can do this. In the meantime, let us not forget the value of being still, of being awake, of being fully present to both pain and uncertainty. We are learning how to resist what is wrong, but we are also learning how to sit with our discomfort. And we have little choice but to open our hearts to mystery, in faith that there are forces at work in the world that are far greater than our human failures and fumblings.
Nothing we can do will be enough. Whatever we are able to do, may it be enough.
Silence creates possibility – the possibility of hearing. What we learn to do in silence is create within ourselves silence, to create within ourselves emptiness, to brush aside all words, all concepts, all feelings, all fantasies, all anxieties, all ambition – gently to brush away all these things that seem so important – to let them go and to empty ourselves so that if the word is spoken, we may hear it, and if the song is sung, we may attend.
In silence we do not try to be anything or anyone. We give up trying to be and simply are. We become being. Or, to put it another way, we become nothing in order to become that which we truly are.”
~ Carl Scovel
A heartfelt thank you to all who read and commented last week. And congratulations to Jeanne and Kathleen, winners of the two hand-felted hearts by my artist friend Elizabeth Stubbs. If you would like to support her ACLU fundraiser or see more of her work, visit her Etsy shop here.
Katrina,you wise woman…I am so glad to have your words accompanying me into a new day. Yes,there is a tiredness in my soul when I open the flood of political mails and posts. What has helped me to find a balance is a newly awakened urge to be creative,to paint,do SoulCollage ( where the shadow aspects want and need to be acknowledged like never before),knit socks for my boys,garden..anything that feeds my soul so I find the inner strenght to sign some more petitions,donate, and do whatever I can to stay present. We are legions!!! We are NOT alone. Continue to spread your heartfelt wisdom!
So, so beautiful Katrina….thank you for your wise and compassionate words…..I am just so sad for our country and my children’s world….please know your words are of immense comfort! Xoxo
Katrina, you are a breath of fresh air to my world; thank you, thank you.
A good reminder so we don’t run out of energy. Thanks for your words.
So much of the trouble with our souls today is that we know too much. Our hearts can’t handle the weight of the whole world. With technology we can watch the sins of world crashing around us like the perfect storm twenty-four hours a day. And we can hear opinions from anyone and everyone 24/7. We must guard our hearts. I want my world to be only as wide as my ability to do good in the situation. Thank you for your gentle words.
I took your wise advise. My husband and I just returned from a week long and much-needed vacation in Longboat Key, Florida. We walked the beautiful beaches in search of shells, enjoyed the warm, colorful sunsets and relished each others’ company. I must admit to watching MSNBC and CNN on a nightly basis and keeping up with the newpapers. So depressing. But for this one week of Mother Nature’s glory… I will close my eyes and remember the serene calm and beauty…
The Prayer of Oscar Romero
It helps now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete which is a way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not out own.
I’m actually feeling a new kind of calm that I haven’t felt for a long, long time. Yes, we’re still in for a long, hard fight but it does feel like the tide is starting to shift to what is just and right. “He” will fight to the end – that, we know – but the evidence is mounting exponentially. It will get messier and uglier, and while we’re fighting for information, other very important work will get lost in the shuffle. But here’s the thing: justice will prevail. America IS great! And we won’t let 45 take us down. Keep on fighting, warriors!
Beautiful, Katrina – thank you!
I too am feeling an overwhelming sense of dread and hopelessness, and that is clouding my view of all that is good in my life. Yoga helps, as does venting to my husband, but I spend too much time and energy either weeping, or trying not to weep, over the lack of soul of these people.
This piece has made my heart a little lighter – a gentle reminder to cultivate quiet and peace in my soul and heart. Thank you.
Always so helpful to read your words. We are all (mostly) trying to find the right balance of speaking up and finding peace. Only balance will help us win this ling fight. Thanks to Shelly Gilliland (just above) for HER inspirational response. I like your spirit. Kind wishes to all.
Thank you, Katrina. Your words always provide respite and calm from the stormy times and always resonate so deeply!! So grateful for what you share!
A couple of weeks ago I implemented “Tranquil Tuesdays” and designated the day to be media-input free. It has been remarkably successful in creating a little oasis of rest and has caused me to limit my consumption of news on other days. I have found that a constant sense of despair and rage are unsustainable and I am grateful for your beautiful words this morning. Yes, we must all look away now and then to save ourselves for our real work, which is to spread love, joy and compassion to a hurting world. Thank you, Katrina, for being here with us as we all try to find our way through this unfamiliar landscape.
Lovely post today and so very true. Keep fighting but take care of yourself. The world is watching. I know my American friends are better than this, that they are loving, kind and generous. I send my best wishes from Canada for a swift end to the madness.
Katrina,
Your words always speak to me, and clearly, to countless others. You describe perfectly the journey so many of us are traveling at this time. It is exhausting, indeed, but your sentiments refresh and renew my spirit. It is comforting to know that , as mentioned above, we are legions. Clearly, when we are tired, we must learn to rest, not quit.
Thank you for your article! It came at a great time.
I have cut back on news coverage to a couple of times a day instead of checking the same story repeatedly. I am listening to podcasts in my car like “On Being” Or “Happier”. I look up to the skies often and try to get outside daily, even though I live in the New Jersey. I attended the March on Washington and try to remember all the kindness and love at that event. I volunteer at a a Women’s Center and look into the eyes of the Muslim women and smile. I am trying for some silence but things are too serious to close my eyes for too long… I have suffered unthinkable loss in my life. I have tried to see the sun through the clouds..
Very well said! Thank you.
Thanks for the reminder for the need for silence and oasis. I’ve wondered if there is an uptick in people seeking treatment for anxiety as of late. I’ve wondered how the great monks managed to deepen their meditation practices during times of unrest. I share that sense of responsibility to know what is going on in our country and not turn my back on people who are suffering and the struggle to not be overwhelmed or to let the joy get squeezed out by anxiety . It is helpful to know that we are not alone and are learning our way together. I do not find your blog to be political negativity but instead an oasis of humanity.
Difficult times call for wise choices …
As I immerse myself in your blog Katrina, and listen to Krista Tippett and watch Eileen Fisher’s Learning Labs on Mindfulness and Body Wisdom – I take a breath from all the troublesome news that permeates the ethos. I volunteer with young children whose goodness feels pure and honest.
Thank you for your thoughts.
Thank you dear Katrina for your moving post today, for your honesty, integrity and gentle way with words that make a huge impact.
Much love to you ~
Press into the silence Katrina, it is the way back, I Kings 19 11-14 talks about God not being in the powerful wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in the gentle whisper that followed. Gather yourself in the quiet to hear His whisper.
I closed my Facebook account last September and don’t watch the news or read it on-line, I just read the local paper each morning when it arrives on my doorstep. I was tired of the fear growing in me and keeping the news contained in this way helped me greatly. Establish the boundaries you need to keep your head up friend. Much love to you today.
You described exactly the feeling of helplessness and anxiety that nothing we do is enough to fight against and resist this tsunami of negativity and fear that seems to have taken over our country. I love your writing even more since you revealed yourself in this way. Thank you for reminding me that it’s okay to take the time for silence and beauty even in the face of so much ugliness. In fact, it will be a matter of survival since as you so correctly noted, this is not just a passing crisis, but a long road to getting us back on the right track again;to making America the kinder, inclusive, beautiful nation that we strive to be.
Thank you Katrina, this post is comforting. And, I too, want to greet every person who is from somewhere else with a huge smile and words of love and encouragement- “I am glad you’re here, you help to make this country a very special place!”
Thank you!
We are figuring things out.
We are listening, learning, and understanding the other.
We are turning the ship around.
Thank you. I am encouraged by your grace and wisdom during these difficult times.
Thank you for your writings. They are so valuable me, and always come at the very right time 😘
Your words are the first words I read this morning, on vacation, in the desert.
My vow when I arrived at this oasis was to heal in the silence,
but the pull of need-to-know sucked me in.
Now, because of your post, the TV is off, the newspapers in the recycle bin,
and I will breathe deep, sit still and listen to the wind in the palms.
Thank you, Katrina, for the gentle kick in the pants.
Your words are the first words I read this morning, on vacation, in the desert.
My vow when I arrived at this oasis was to heal in silence,
but the pull of need-to-know sucked me in.
Now, because of your post, the TV is off, the newspapers in the recycle bin,
and I will breathe deep, sit still and listen to the wind in the palms.
Thank you, Katrina, for the gentle kick in the pants.
Dear Katrina,
Thank you for your beautiful words. It’s a good day when you show up in my inbox.
You are strong and wise and what you say touches the core of my heart, and gives me hope. I believe in the old saying,”What goes around, comes around.” DT won’t last, it will all catch up with him. I love your words,”We must feed our souls and nurture our spirits so that we can continue to serve as ambassadors of peace and healing in the world.”
Adding my voice to this chorus of thank yous. I wish I could return to you the gift of your words. Know that they are appreciated, very much so.
The new government seems to stand for many things I don’t like about myself. Where can I soften my anger, where can I take responsibility for myself instead of blaming others? Where can I tell the truth instead of lie. Understand and experience more deeply the unity of all? When is it less about me and more about all of us? How can I be more silent. Peaceful. This is all I can do right now. I am scared like the rest of us…in the meantime I feel an urgency to cultivate more balance in this unbalanced world. Not easy but my self-assigned task. Thanks, Katrina for your soothing words and heartfelt posts.
Lynda
As a psychologist and mindfulness teacher, a simple sentence often comes to mind:
“Don’t let him get into your head!”
Don’t let him rob you of the joy of doing crafts with your Mom,
and the joy of savouring those walks in nature with her.
Simply don’t allow it.
You can care deeply, you can donate and volunteer from a position of clarity & strength.
“Clouds come and go, the Ever-Witnessing Consciousness Remains.”
I love your newsletters – and enjoy sharing the beauty of your life along with you!
Warmest Wishes!
Thank you and peace to you!
I recently bought my third copy of Mitten Strings – as I lent out the others and never got back! These times made me more aware of my part in making the world better – both by becoming more political outside the home, and creating a more peaceful home for my kids as they live in this world. Thank you for being a beautiful voice on this journey.
Thank you Katrina. I have done enough reading and calling and keeping current for now. I am going to take your advice and go “put myself in the way of beauty”. I appreciate your calm words….it inspires me to take better care of myself so I can be there for the long haul.
Katrina, Thank you! Your words speak truth with compassion, and kindness. My heart is hopeful. I see pockets of grace and tenderness as we move together for the greater good for all. We are stronger together, and I am finding courage to access my activist self with your words! I recently read…”Resist….Rest. Resist…Rest.” May it be so.
Thank you for this beautiful post. Your writing is very comforting in a difficult time.
Yes Katrina especially this time we find ourselves in we all need “an oasis of silence” to endure. Each day I think I cannot take any more of the troubling news emanating from Washington. I have to keep reminding myself that justice will prevail; unfortunately later than sooner. I just pray we all can survive until that day.
Katrina,
As a daughter who no longer has her Mother here in earth, I would suggest you both unplug, turn off the tv and enjoy each other’s company in the beautiful scenery. Washington will go on with or without you checking on it. Step back and enjoy this time. Time well spent with your Mom will refresh your soul and the memories will be priceless to you one day.
Katrina,
Keep this up, you have just given yourself the BEST advice;)
We are all going to survive, you will see.
Namaste
P.S. Today, here, I am stepping into an oasis of silence. I’ll squeeze oranges for breakfast. I will go out for a walk and listen to the wind tossing the palms. I’ll sit in the shade and finish reading the collection of almost unbearably beautiful short stories I began last night. I’ll talk to my children and husband on the phone and do some yoga and make dinner for my mom. I’ll leave the TV off and the newspaper untouched. I’ll put myself in the way of beauty.
So beautiful and so helpful today. I love these words. And I am spying a hope.
Dearest Katrina,
A few years ago I wrote to you in the midst of what I then believed to be my darkest night. Without expecting it, you graciously responded with love and your words became my springboard that launched me onto a journey to discovering my authentic self. I am forever indebted to your kindness. I am so blessed to know the beautiful soul that stood silently in the shadows patentiently awaiting to step into the light of her being. The gift you gave me I now share with my 3 sons, dearest friends and every soul I meet. Your simple act of kindness that day didn’t save one life, it is now saving many.
Buddha once said, “The Sun, the moon and the truth can not be long hidden.” I believe that the Sun and the Moon are what guides our physical beings with each new day being an opportunity to start fresh. The truth is our souls connection to our beloved Creator. When we lose sight of our truth our connection becomes static and sometimes lost. Believe in your truth but also have faith in the truth of humanity .. the line to our Beloved is always open and He will never disconnect from us.
An inspiring story of a young lady who embodies truth in self and faith in humanity, check out #BeccaToldMeTo
Carrying you in my heart with love and light all ways. Dorothy Howard
Sharing time with your mom spoke to me as my sister, Melanie Hedlund (she knows you from the Waldorf School) and I lost our mom unexpectedly this week.
Linda, My heart goes out to you and Melanie. I haven’t lost a parent, so I can only imagine how it feels to walk this particular path of grief. Thank you for the reminder to treasure every moment. And I’m so very sorry for your loss. Blessings.
Katrina,
Thank you for these words – it makes me feel not so alone and fearful in this crazy times. The unsettled feelings are new with this new President and all the swirl around him and I really appreciate your post. We do need to take care of ourselves and find the good in us, our world and others. Your writings are my comfort. Enjoy your time with your mom – it sounds wonderful!
Blessings to you for your most inspiring words. They always come at the right time. This time now with this president are very unsettling to me and many others. Let’s find a balance, a time to voice our concern and that time of silence to pray.
Thank you, Katrina. I connected with your post first because of your plans with your mother which reminded me so much of the special times my Mom and I would share for the same purpose. We also would discuss the state of our Nation and the world. We lost our Mom a few weeks ago. I swear she felt it was the right time to say goodbye…she had seen plenty of loss, hardship and pain, but also joy in a lifetime that saw our country define itself.
In her honor, I will try to reflect on your words, because in the greatest moments of discouragement and challenge, she always found courage and hope.
“If you can keep your head when all
about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on
you,
If you can trust yourself when all men
doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting
too;
If you can wait and not be tired by
waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk
too wise
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve
spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for
fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life
to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with
worn-out tools…”
Rudyard Kipling…
Katrina, your voice is one I find myself turning to often these days. Thank you for your always gentle and wise and brave heart.
Gosh, this is just the very thing I needed to hear. This morning. I seem to experience that feeling every day, in that all I am able to do is not enough and all I can do may it suffice…but is not enough, I must face it and keep trying.
For some reason I wasn’t seeing your email alerts and I have missed your gorgeous essays! (On the positive side I now have a bounty to look forward to:)
These words are a comfort to me. I went for a jog with a friend yesterday and we shared that a depression has been falling on us since the election. She just finished “A Year of Living Danishly” and is committed to bringing more coziness to her life. We absolutely must put ourselves in the way of beauty and goodness. And delete the hate mail you have received!! i am shocked anyone could say that about you. You are the opposite of hate. Your words are full of love.
Your writings remind me that I am not alone. Of course, I am blessed. i live in Sonoma County, CA and am surrounded by like minded folk. We hope the something new and healthy will arise from our discord. We must remain vigilant and we must find hope. I like tom hope that mostly, we all want the same things; it’s just our way of achieving them is so different. I hope that we are coming to the end of the “either/or” mentality that has pervaded us. We must work to create a “both/and” paradigm, for the center way is the only ay through, if we are to remain whole Thank you for your courage and willingness to so poignantly address the shadow that grows. Each of us that stands in the light, holds the light for others to step into. Thank you. Thank you..
This is an long overdue thank you, Katrina. On that horrible election night last November, when I felt complete and utter panic at the thought of our new president, I truly did not know where to turn for comfort. I felt so completely helpless and then, I thought of your kind, intelligent, and thoughtful words which you had shared in past newlsletters. It is hard to explain, but you served as a lifeboat for me. Please know how much your words help so many of us. Again, your writing this week was just what I needed as I, too, am exhausted and depleted from the news. With your advice, I will be choosing books, nature, and quiet as ways to replenish. And, of course, waiting for your next newsletter. Thank you!
What a beautiful post which I am sharing on Facebook. Thank you, again, for offering that calming place where, like so many, I can take a breath, calm my beating heart and realize I can’t do everything, all at once. Like you, I also cannot turn away but I can pace myself, create my own oasis (for me it’s my garden and my sewing room) and just keep trying to make a difference right where I am. Thank you.
Please don’t stop sharing. It helps more than you could ever know.
Just wanted to let you know that I really enjoy reading your thoughts . I’m so sorry to hear that some people have attacked your position on the state of our union. I appreciate your feelings and share them. God will not be mocked and He must have a purpose for the insanity that is going on in our nations capital. Trust in the Lord. Joining you in prayer.
Thank you Katrina
Let me tell you how your writing made impact all the way to Denmark:
Your writing made me start a satellite march from our local university, to support march for science on earth day 22th april, very far from Washington, in a smallish Danish town. Does not sound like much. Its just another march, but this made us talk more to each other in the coffee room at the university, and made us engage our town, and involve family and friends who will join the march. Thank you! Your important sharing of thoughts and feelings make a huge bit of work. If each of us who is touched spread the word and actions, it will matter. This is how it works . Thank you ! Emøke
Count me in! Your words have guided my parenting for years now. Thank you so much!
Mother Teresa ……”Not all of us can do great things, but we can all do small things with great love” And that is a legacy to be proud of.