Sanctuary Of The Heart- Gifts Of Resilience

In June, more than 100 people came together on zoom, dialing in from different time zones and locations worldwide to explore what it truly means to be resilient. Over the following four weeks, that Sanctuary Pod became our haven, an umbrella under which we could all find sanctuary in each other’s opening hearts. A kinship began to form through the threading of our shared, collective stories.

In the first week, we explored the challenges of finding resilience in times of uncertainty. One pod mate asked, “Do I really need to change something?” In other words, when the familiar sights, sounds, smells, tastes and all the usual conveniences cease to exist, is that a call to change anything, everything or nothing at all? When a loved one dies, a sickness is revealed, or any form of tragedy comes knocking at the door, could it be an invitation to lean into another way of being that might have always been there?

One pod mate defined human resilience as The Guest House, a poem by Rumi that considers the metamorphosis of our continued, daily existence. Could resilience simply be a spare key yet to be used to open the same front door? Or the cracking open of a window in a dusty room that hasn’t yet revealed its potential as the guest bedroom that could host new visitations?

Without any doubt, you know that who you were yesterday is not the same person that woke up this morning. Invisible shifts are happening, peppered by myriad experiences that each day brings, including deep grief for some and significant advances for others. The changing moods of these experiences form the new person, the guest coming and going in every way, shape, form or color.

Rumi states in the poem, “This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival.” As with any unexpected visitor, these guests are to be treated with care, each presenting a new possibility of understanding the world and the nature of our evolving existence. Rumi urges us to “Welcome and entertain them all!”

What if we met them at the door laughing and invited them in for a cup of tea to sit in communion and explore their intentions? Indeed when disarmed by the joy of a shared experience, such as the tingling warmth of the hands holding the teacup, we could learn to unpack the beautiful gift these guests present in an unpleasant fashion throughout the day. As observers of the guest house, we can learn to spot the dark, malicious thought. We can even call out the version of the guest who comes bearing shame by extending compassion, care and kindness in return.

As we dug deeper into the second week, we encountered an obstacle that could prevent us from welcoming our guests wholeheartedly. Confronted with our moral consciousness, we explored the reality of making the right decisions when choices become ambiguous and clarity an elusive option.

“I am willing to know nothing and trust, even if it involves sacrifice and suffering on my part,” said Bonnie Rose, our host, and community weaver. As a pastor, she has witnessed her church undergo an unusual transition as more members continue to drift into a loose engagement in a virtual space. This shift is being witnessed everywhere with whole companies and communities opting to gather before a screen. Before the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world, this non-physical, interactive reality would have been unfathomable.

Bonnie’s generous gift of acknowledging this “not knowing” seemed to strike a chord with many other pod mates. The responses and reflections echoed a collective alignment with the overwhelming need to let go of expectations. One pod mate shared, “Focusing on the invisible and letting go of control are the main practices that are helping me navigate during this transition in my work life.” We agreed that we are all in this invisible dance adapting footsteps into the unknown together.

The third week prompted us to consider letting go and holding on all simultaneously. In balancing personal integrity and service to others, we began observing our roles as givers and receivers. The reflections became more personal, some more vulnerable than others, and some balancing between holding back and bearing it all. There was a collective witnessing of stories unfolding. The comments grew into other sidebar conversations that explored the complexities of letting go of things that serve us yet hinder us from growth, such as difficult long-term relationships, old and fading friendships or accumulated stuff.

There was an exciting air of lightness as if everyone had taken to spring cleaning the mind of unhealthy, repetitive thoughts that needed to be freed at last. One podmate reminded us, “Breathing is always a good idea.” Indeed, a collective sigh was exhaled as we sauntered into the fourth week, feeling a little lighter.

We concluded the pod by reflecting on what had begun brewing in our hearts. Every other response revealed how love, gratefulness, compassion, peace, and all the intangible values that lead us towards greater healing and connection had bubbled to the top. These gems that make up our common humanity were no longer trapped and held back or revealing themselves as the smaller, unpleasant guests that mask the expansive purity of the human heart.

One pod mate captured the collective emergence with this provocative question, “Could we arrange ourselves in a way that we offer each other greater resilience?”

We responded to this challenge by bravely turning up at the next pod to hold and receive the Gifts of Grieving. In this shared space, the collective resilience could begin distilling and refinement through stories of loss presented in the dance of living that ultimately celebrates dying. 

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