“Will you be my refuge, my haven from the storm, will you keep the embers warm when my fire is all but gone?” Carrie Newcomer writes in her song, “Sanctuary,” from her album, The Beautiful Not Yet. https://youtu.be/HjOioWTVAl4
I have been thinking a lot about sanctuary these past few months. I have had some health challenges which have kept me “under the weather,” and relatively house bound. When others head for the beach, mountain resorts, travel cross country to visit new scenery, and even fly overseas to fulfill their bucket lists or vacations longed for during the isolation of pandemic, I remain here, rooted in homeplace. I know I have written a lot about the small treasures hidden in plain sight if we would but look, but I have to admit that I have been a bit jealous of your wanderlust, and long to hit the airways or less traveled road myself. Footloose and fancy free! Yet, once again, that amazing and sometimes harsh teacher called LIFE revealed another lesson to me. You know, sometimes I get so distracted and busy with taking care of other people, plants, and animals and all the items on my “to do list,” the lesson that I need to take care of ME just comes crashing down in the form of health issues, as it does to so many people. It is a humbling experience to realize that guess what? I am mortal, body systems break down, aging creeps in and what was once a little aggravation suddenly appears to need radical care. Yikes! I slowly have begun to realize that I need to give myself the same commitment, loyalty, and loving attention that I extend to others. I am sure I am not alone in feeling rather guilty when I take time to nurture myself.
Anyhow, I have had to ask that question that Carrie so eloquently writes in her song: “will you remember, send me sprigs of rosemary, be my sanctuary…” The Oxford English Dictionary defines sanctuary as 1. “refuge or safety from pursuit, persecution, or other danger” 2. “a place where injured or unwanted animals of a specified kind are cared for” 3. “a holy place, or temple.” The origin comes from the Latin word for sanctus, meaning holy. This caused me to examine what people, places or things are sanctuary for me.
We tend to look to others or outside ourselves for comfort, rescue or safety. I am finding that the most important sanctuary for me is inside myself. I found the perfect poem to describe this in an email I received recently from the website gratefulness.org, which sends out lovely resources and a poem for each month:
The Most Important Thing by Julia Fehrenbacher I am making a home inside myself. A shelter of kindness where everything is forgiven, everything allowed -- a quiet patch of sunlight to stretch out without hurry, where all that has been banished and buried is welcomed, spoken, listened to -- released. A fiercely friendly place I can claim as my very own. I am throwing arms open to the whole of myself -- especially the fearful, fault-finding, falling apart, unfinished parts, knowing every seed and weed, every drop of rain, has made the soil richer. I will light a candle, pour a cup of tea, gather around the warmth of my own blazing fire. I will howl if I want to, knowing this flame can burn through any perceived problem, any prescribed perfectionism every lying limitation, every heavy thing. I am making a home inside myself where grace blooms in grand and glorious abundance, a shelter of kindness that grows all the truest things. I whisper hallelujah to the friendly sky. Watch now as I burst into blossom.HomeSanctuary is all of the above definitions for me, depending on the circumstances that require it. Certainly my loving partner, Patrick, my golden retriever angel dogs, my chickens and cats provide the refuge I need not only when the chips are down, but when I rise each morning in gratitude for the miracle of a new day with such loving companions.
The place I am cared for is my home and garden, and that home I am making inside myself, a “shelter where kindness grows the truest things.” How do I cultivate that home? I care for it with loving presence and gratitude. This is a practice that must be cultivated to bring forth any fruits, including fruits of the spirit.
The sanctuary that is a holy place for me is in the woods behind my house. There is a circle of beech trees that I call “The Seven Sisters.” I go there to sit in the silence of trees (which are not really silent if one listens to them). These beech trees are unusual in that they do not lose their leaves in the winter. The leaves turn a burnished gold, and dangle from the branches. They shimmer and shudder with every slight breeze, brushing against each other and making a small soothing sound. What healing can be had in a circle of beeches!
I meant to write an update on my chickens, the Dream Team specifically, but that will have to be for another post. When I sat down to type, sanctuary came. I have shared my ideas and examples of sanctuary with you. What are your sanctuaries? Have you ever tried to create a sanctuary or home within? I am interested in what you have to share. If you wish to, please post in the comment section below. And please take care of YOU!
Under A Hen's Wing 