Making sanctuary
amidst noise & chaos
A few weeks ago, I found myself at a monastery in Kentucky on a self-directed silent retreat. It landed on the week before my birthday, a much-desired ushering into my next decade.
I remember booking my retreat, a few months prior. There was a simultaneous flash of affirmation and hesitancy – perfect timing! and then, wait… a silent retreat in the middle of summer? what am I going to miss out on? will I be able to step away from play, work, and people I love?
Summer is buzzing in the northern hemisphere: sticky skin, rumbling AC units, oodles of social events and festivals. The impatient emergence from covid isolation - do you feel this, too? This season can be a yo-yo of desire ~ to soak it all in, to stay up with the sun, to be social and connected with the rhythm of the city. And then there can be an overwhelm of too-much-ness, a longing for less, for things to slow down, to catch our breath.
Idle days of summer often feel lost to childhood. I long to cultivate the spaciousness of lazy afternoons in the sun and agenda-less play days. Mixed with this warm nostalgia are some feelings of fear and vulnerability during this season. Maybe an early flavor of summertime sadness. The sound of fireworks, big crowds, the awareness of beginnings and endings (can’t we vacation and celebrate forever??)
So my retreat landed amidst this season of sun and play. And my fomo did not take center stage. It was my first silent retreat. I won’t try to neatly summarize here, but it was just what I needed and right on time.
There are times when it is necessary or preferred to seek out a curated sanctuary, a quiet place, extended time, gentle guides and company to help hold the space. The world is noisy and it requires practice and community to stand firm in sanctuary for ourselves and each other.
I am seeking out these sanctuaries, ancient and modern, and I am also curious and committed to the practice of sanctuary or sanctuary as an awareness.
To borrow some language from Bayo Akomolefe, sanctuary is a crack, a rift in the everyday runaround and status quo. Sanctuary is an invitation to reflect, to be with ourselves > the lovely and less lovely parts<, it’s a space to notice and shift. It can be a prayer, a conversation with ourselves, God, or the great beyond.
“The times are urgent, let us slow down.” - Bayo.
» To support the practice & awareness of sanctuary, below is a Catalog of Everyday Sanctuary - for you and me.
» Requires: you, mostly quiet, solitude of heart, a few minutes to an hour or so as available
A breath
The moment in between things: just you in your car before the next thing, activity, place
Your toilet: maybe with a book or just some peace and quiet
Lingering hugs: warm, firm, grounding
Nourishing conversation: being heard & expressing yourself freely, space to digest & listen
Your kitchen: especially early morning or late night
A canceled event/meeting/task: surprise space opening up, universe maybe telling you to do less ;)
As sanctuary is cultivated, might we connect them with each other’s? Sharing them, combining and intertwining, releasing distinction and borders.
One by one, our sanctuaries will accumulate and grow - a hug connects to breath, porches connect to back yards, meals and pantries shared, togetherness in celebration and grief, in silence and song, moments turn into days. Sanctuary as a model or tool for change, internally ← → collectively.
where are you finding or practicing sanctuary these days?
don’t be shy, hit reply :)
peace,
Emily
p.s here’s a little duet between me and the construction in my neighborhood:
p.p.s. art and performance is a sanctuary practice ~ catch me in downtown Cleveland this week performing at Borderlight Fringe Festival. Two different shows! 6 performances total! Phew!
Showtimes: Friday 5:15pm, Saturday 4:15pm & 8:00pm
^^ get your tickets here! ^^
Showtimes Thursday 7pm, Friday 10pm, Saturday 9pm. I’m performing with Dusty Bucket
I would say that reading this eloquent passage was in it of itself - a sanctuary.
Also, lovely duet! 😊