Anchored in the Storm

I love the first day of summer break. The collective sigh of relief of making it through the school year. The sleeping in (well, some of us; our kids didn’t seem to get the memo!). The longer days with less urgency, more leisure. The anticipation of summer travels, camps, adventures. Suiting up for our first swim. The true refreshment of ice cream and lemonade.

AND I love the first day of school. Getting back into morning rhythms and routines. Buying new school supplies, and eagerly meeting new teachers and peers. The fresh energy of new learning and development. The anticipation of fall camping, the changing leaves, pumpkin patches, and crisp, cool air.

Even if we don’t have kids, and it’s been a minute since we were a kid, I believe something in us loves and needs the rhythms and changes of the seasons. So I hope and pray as we approach another seasonal transition, you have had some time for summer rest and refreshment, and feel some fresh hope and energy for how you might grow and develop this fall.

That being said, I also feel like these times are a bit like Atlanta weather in the summer. One minute, it can be gloriously sunny, and the next you’re hearing thunder and running for cover pelted by huge drops of rain. Putting Luca to bed a few evenings ago, we heard a distant rumble. His eyes grew wide, and I tried to calm him saying, I don’t think that thunder and lightning is close to us. He replied, It better not come any closer, because it hurts my feelings.

At least he’s honest about his fear. There is so much storminess in our culture: toxic polarization (If I had a quarter for every time some driver's given us the finger for having a Biden/Harris bumper sticker on our minivan . . .), forced pregnancy after the overturning of Roe, white nationalist extremism, climate crises, the ongoing war in Ukraine, of course, we are afraid.

I love the line in Roger Keys poem, Hokusai Says: “He says every one of us is frightened. He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.”

How can we find a way to live with fear, without letting it consume or paralyze us? How can we grow our hope and courage to live in these times? How can we keep showing up and giving ourselves in service to bring more peace and justice, more kindness and compassion in all the broken, suffering places?

I come back to the same two answers over and over again: community and spiritual practice. I know for me, participating in spiritual community and engaging in regular spiritual practices are the things that keep me rooted deep in God, the Source and Ground of our Being, growing in the wisdom and love that not just help us survive, but thrive and serve during these tumultuous times.

If you are looking for a place to root and to grow, I would love for you to check out these upcoming Deep Waters offerings. I feel fresh new energy for gathering our souls, our gifts, our hopes and visions to be a mighty force for good, withstanding any storm that may come our way.

Warmly,

Kimberly