Three women standing by a stream in the winter

A new thing

Denise West, OSBFar from home, Living in Community 6 Comments

How much longer is your stay? Have you gotten what you expected out of your sojourner experience? Now that it’s been almost four months (two more to go), I’m getting this question a lot. As for the second question, the answer is a resounding Yes. This experience has been transforming in the ways that I’d hoped.

Paz and I both left Wisconsin for Christmas, and it was the first time being away from the monastery community. I wondered how much of the way I’d been living would ‘stick’ once I went out into the world. Would I resort to my typical ways of dealing with life’s struggles, namely stubborn avoidance and immersing myself in distractions, or would I be able to act in a more meaningful, mindful way? Has this life in community been merely a comforting veneer, or has something new actually taken root?

What better way to test these questions than to spend time with family over the holidays? I knew that my defenses tended to go up when I was with family, and after a few days I typically retreated to a safe place within. Having grown up with family members who struggle with mental illness, it was hard to ‘be myself’ in the face of what felt like unrelenting demands to take care of others.

Denise (far right) shares a winter hike near the monastery with her sister, Camille (center) and coworker LaRae Gavic.

Denise (far right) shares a winter hike near the monastery with her sister, Camille (center), and monastery coworker LaRae Gavic.

Happily, I noticed some concrete results from my sojourner experience. From the start, I felt more at ease with my sister when she visited me here at the monastery. For one thing, I could so much more freely express my emotions—what a concept!—instead of keeping things bottled up.  I let her know what was going on with me. We both felt more intimacy during this visit and were grateful for that.  We experienced conflict, but it wasn’t the scary event that I usually try to avoid—I could speak my truth without being overwhelmed by fear.

Another palpable result of my stay is how I related to my mother, who has some dementia and is quite frail. In my family I always took it upon myself to try to make everyone happy, to make light of a bad situation with humor or by finding something I could control; I just wanted to feel in control. The alternative was intolerable. It’s been hard watching Mom fade over the years from being active and chatty to fearful, silent and often unexpressive.

At first it was tempting to try to fix the situation, to make her better and happier, but she says she’s pretty content.  Soon enough I found I was able to sit with her in silence, or read some passages of scripture. I took her out for long drives when she was up for it, but I didn’t need to liven her up for my sake. I could be with her and accept her as she is. I felt sad that we live so far apart and sad that I can’t see her more frequently. Visiting her assisted living community, I felt a lot of sadness. I tried to let it in, to witness the lonely end of life that many experience and just be present.

The Reverend Michael Dowd spoke at Holy Wisdom in the fall and something he said has stuck with me: “The secular word for God is Reality, and the secular word for Jesus is Integrity.” More than anything, since I’ve been here I feel that I’m more able to experience the world as it is, instead of how I wish it to be. From my own shortcomings to the suffering of others, living in community with the Benedictine sisters has nourished my ability to believe that in the midst of confusion, fear and pain, there is a ground of being that is loving and worthy of my trust. It’s okay to be vulnerable, to begin to let go of the need to control or be in control.

A recent passage I read by Henri Nouwen also conveys a sense of the power of being vulnerable.

Ministry is entering with our human brokenness into communion with others and speaking a word of hope. This hope is not based on any power to solve the problems of those with whom we live, but on the love of God, which becomes visible when we let go of our fears of being out of control and enter into his presence in a shared confession of weakness.

He calls this “the fellowship of the weak.” This is where I’m beginning to find myself, becoming able to live in vulnerability, in closer intimacy with others, meeting in the place where our hearts can break.

_______________________

Read other posts from Denise in her series, Far from home.

Comments 6

  1. ” Meeting in the place where our hearts can break”: that’s a message for a lifetime. Thank you for your witness. Living in our vulnerable “spaces” and being willing to say “here I am”, no longer hiding, but present is incredibly freeing. I am learning that in a new and powerful way as I journey (along with my brother) through AA and Alanon and discover the many hiding places I have found throughout the years to dull the pain of my reality (alcohol, food, consumerism, so many masks. and I am sure much more to be revealed). Thank you for your candid sharing and I pray the joy you discovered as well as the tools to respond to the pain remain in your open heart forever.

    1. Thank you so much, Chris. It was a long journey getting to a place where I was even aware of how much I hid from myself. Thank goodness for those wiser who are further down the path to help us along. Many blessings to you and your brother.

  2. Dear Denise: Thank you for being so open in sharing this post. Your experience gives me courage in contemplating, and now doing the paper work, for becoming an oblate at the monastery in April. I too am reading Henri Nouwen, and finding so much to apply to my own questions, as well as my practice of faith.
    God Bless you and comfort you in your search for a new way to Be.
    Deborah Nelson

  3. Hi Deborah, thank you for your kind words and blessings. How wonderful that you’re beginning a deeper relationship with the community here. All the best on your journey, and I hope our paths cross sometime.

  4. Dear Denise,
    You are clearing the brambles from your path for the journey ahead. The way of discovery is often solitary and sometimes isolating because it is a road that only we can take. There are no guarantees that you will have a destination that you can celebrate, or that you will recognize many faces along the way. But it is ultimately yours alone. Thank you for sharing your steps and some sunshine along the way.
    Certainly, our numbers are fewer, and time and circumstances have scattered us all farther apart. But I am certain that our beloved friends who we will always carry in our hearts , are rejoicing at your travels, and your discoveries. I know I am!.

  5. Richard,
    It’s always so lovely to hear from you! As I look back on the path that led me here, which I frequently do, all of you come right to mind. I so appreciate those connections and companionship along the way.

    Thanks for continuing to read and keeping in touch!
    Many blessings,
    Denise

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