Because Being Human is the Hardest Path There is
Linda Clark-Borre
"Later, I would stumble upon the path to a better world not in spiritual theories…but in the softness of a broken heart, in the fires of daily life…on the way, I turned and met the friendly forces, and felt the hands of transformation begin to work on me." ~ Elizabeth Lesser, from Broken Open: How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow
How to define spiritual wellness? Anyone who's ever felt "dispirited," unbalanced, or discouraged can know it based upon what it clearly is not. Spiritual wellness is the opposite of feelings of absolute despair, unrelenting grief, and endless loneliness. Though it mysteriously encompasses painful emotions, the durable spirit is not limited by them. It can encompass "religion" - or not.
Regardless of personal belief system, anyone can benefit from spiritual support and nurture. Spirituality is less about rote precepts or rules, than how one is able to relate to everyday living. It's about being faithful to the ideals and beliefs that matter most to you.
We rarely have a chance to speak of such things outside traditional formal pastoral office settings. It's not common to open one's heart this way in community life. This, despite the yearning to release our pain, or to consider our deepest questions safely and without judgment. We may have been encouraged to "have faith" by well-meaning others, but it's the rawness of our unique experiences that comprise the essential spirituality from which a personal faith emerges.
With that intro - welcome to these pages, which offer a hint of my lifelong research into the elements of spiritual wellness - or what I often refer to as spiritual durability.
The philosopher Michael Polyani proposed that "we [each] know more than we can say." We are, indeed, wiser than we know. Plumbing our own depths as individuals is absolutely the work of a lifetime; but those willing to explore this way often find the effort itself leading to a richer inner life that is both solace and refuge.
This is The Shape of Belonging
Beneath the hum of wired skies,
we drift like shadows through the noise -
our voices frayed at the edges,
lost in the static of a thousand screens and dropped connections.
We have become strangers to our own tongues,
forgetting how the soul speaks
in the quiet between breaths,
how the ear must bend low
to hear the tremor in another's silence.
Eyes once fluent in the language of depth
now skim surfaces,
mirrors clouded
by the breath of hurry.
Yet the oak does not rush its roots
through the patient dark;
the river carves its truth
by staying close to the stone.
What if the way back begins
where pavement cracks?Where green tendrils rupture concrete,
the earth still dreams.
Let's find places where field meets forest,
and let dandelions and thistle
teach us the grace of resilience.
In our bending toward the fractured and the frail,
In our gentle cradling of the trembling wing,
In our search for ways to name the unspoken anguish,
we tend to the matter of our own scattered souls - the ash, pollen, and grit of our collective unspent grief
And unearth the shape of our own belonging—
a melody hummed by the world
when we finally learn to listen.
Linda Clark-Borre
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The Art of Spiritual Caregiving
Community-based chaplains provide comprehensive interspiritual care and emotional support. They exist to help communities, individuals, families, and those in stressful occupations through simple presence and listening. We believe everyone should have someone to turn to when it appears there is nowhere else to go.
Twenty-five years ago, while working in the medical field, I learned of a Hopi healer living in Arizona who was deeply respected for his compassionate "interfaith" service to patients at a hospital near the reservation where he lived. I'd heard stories of people in pain who, upon encountering the healer, could rise from their beds with renewed spirits.
I assumed he had some miraculous and other-worldly gift. On a trip to the reservation area, I found his son, Lance, a Hopi cultural interpreter. Through him, I was able to discern the nature of his father's work, which he described in the simplest terms:
"Doctors, nurses, families, and others call on me to bring presence, prayers, and rituals as needed or desired. Whether a patient survives or is in the process of leaving this world is not up to me. I look into a person to locate discomfort at the level of their soul. A sense of integration or wholeness of spirit is essential for the patient and the family at any point in the cycle of their lives...
"I help people recover the lost parts of their souls."
I'd never heard a better description of a spiritual caregiver's work.
That day, I understood that whole-hearted presence, a listening ear, discernment, and a sure sense of inner grounding were more than an inspiring life goal; together they comprised the essence of spiritual well-being.