"who are you uninterrupted?"
perching lines, no. 24
Hello gentle-people,
Transitions are generally hard for me. I can get stuck in reflection mode and have a hard time moving on some from thing or someone who has been a fixture in my life for a decent amount of time. That all being said, I have not expected to still feel like the world is off kilter from returning from my retreat.
I have been on retreats before and I have never had this experience. I am still mostly joyful in this season. But almost once a day, I feel an intense sorrow and a sense of disconnection.
It got me thinking about my houseplants, and the house I lived in from 2020-2021 and the beautiful large south-facing window that at one point supported the life of 30 plants in my room. I did a lot to learn about what conditions they needed to thrive but still some of them died. The ones I have left or newly acquired are a little low maintenance.
But recently, I found myself by the river near my house. I had walked off the path and got close to the trees and plant my feet as solidly on the ground as I can. I place my hand on a tree and looked up and said this Lucille Clifton poem:
being property once myself i have a feeling for it, that’s why i can talk about environment. what wants to be a tree, ought to be he can be it. same thing for other things. same thing for men.
perching lines: “who are you uninterrupted?”
This poem makes me think about the question “Who are you uninterrupted?” I have heard it from the folklore artist and performer DZIDZOR and the motivational speaker Felecia Hatcher. When I think about that question, I wonder what life my houseplants would have in their natural environments, contributing to the ecosystems that supply with everything they need in a way that isn’t manufactured or mediated by human interaction.
While I love this question, I find myself wondering if who we are is nothing but a series of interruptions.1 But when I interpret it to mean who are we uninterrupted by the oppressions that rob us of breath and tie us to maintaining a status quo that is actively harming ourselves, other creatures, and the earth…I arrive at different answers.
It is those answers I commit myself to exploring though this year of cohorts and fellowships. There is an update below on that in the “new bones” section of this newsletter.
a contemplative moment:
I know Alice Walker wrote in The Color Purple “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple somewhere and don't notice it.” These days I feel that way about orange. This was taken outside of Roxbury Community College where I took a weaving workshop this past weekend with the artist Stephen Hamilton. Here’s a look at my first weaving project:
landing track:
When you ask the question “who am I uninterrupted?” what comes up for you? What lies have you swallowed? What truths press against your chest, desiring to come out? What confessions line the path towards a more enriched embodied and interconnected life? What did you (or your family or your people) leave behind that you miss…can you go back and get it? Take these questions into a conversation, a moment of silence, a walk, or a journaling practice. Perhaps befriend a tree near you.
catch me outside this newsletter
I’m teaching a class this fall! It is called “Digital Ministry as Contemplative Practice.” If you found yourself intrigued at all by the ideas that shaped my Woven series, here’s an opportunity to dive in deeper. We will be talking about how we ground ourselves in our bodies and practice mindful use of digital media. We will talk the revision tools that shape simple and beautiful messaging without sacrificing depth. We will de-emphasize platform-building and follower-focused strategies, learning instead how to use these tools to shape connections that build sacred community.
Meeting dates are Wednesdays for 6 sessions beginning on Wednesday, September 17th. Subsequent sessions are on September 24th, October 1st, October 15th, October 22nd, and October 29th. Sessions run from 6 – 7:30pm Eastern.
Click here to learn more & sign up!
The “new bones” Fund: Supporting Tender Work
Update: At my retreat a few weeks ago, I experienced a deep rest I’ve been longing for since 2023 or 2021 or maybe my whole life. I owe this all in large part to the land and the farm and the refuge that currently stories it. I was welcomed in with a story that acknowledged the stewardship of the Abenaki people before it was known as the Mad River Valley. I embraced ease while I was there—I left with the ache of a call to grow in kinship with the earth in community. I know this path began with the houseplants of 2020 and it has carried me here:
I have been accepted to the EcoPreacher Cohort, hosted by The BTS Center, Creation Justice Ministries and Lexington Theological Seminary. Now, I do not have any fundraising needs for this cohort. But I see it as an important part of this journey I am on to deepen my contemplative/creative practice life. I will be learning how to preach in a way that integrates climate consciousness, while honoring my womanist praxis and poetic sensibilities. I will also apply what I learn to create spaces for people to process climate grief and dread, which has been a desire of mine for years.
[To find out what else I am doing, keep reading. Follow the orange links below to learn how to support.]
In case you are new here, I’m raising funds to support a season of transformative fellowships and cohorts that will deepen my work as an artist and spiritual leader. This includes travel, lodging, tuition, and integration time for a research fellowship at Emory University’s Rose Library, where I’ll study Lucille Clifton’s papers and further develop my practices of archival devotion and plain speech.
I am also participating in a Rest & Reimagine Cohort from Nevertheless She Preached, which nurtures justice-rooted spiritual leadership. This cohort will help me deepen my practice of social weaving and offer me a space to connect with those who are interested in breaking down the hierarchies we find in traditional church spaces—folks committed to reimagining sacred connections. My church generously covered the cost of registration and this counts towards my professional development, so I am just raising funds for travel to the retreat in October in Austin, TX.
The Made for PAX Fellowship, which will ground my songwriting practice in contemplative activism is fully funded—including travel and lodging for the retreat in September! I am looking forward to engage in songwriting practices that center contemplative activism. I have been longing to expand my offerings to include creating spaces for spiritual healing through music…I especially want those spaces to be playful and collaborative.
So in this campaign, The “new bones” Fund, I invite you to co-create with me by helping me shape a future where I am out in the world where I am fully released to do the tender work I am called to do—which includes creating spaces for dreamers to lean into sacred rest, healing and play.
I love a word with beautiful interlocking meanings and “tender” is one such word for me. I am tender—bruised and worked to the bone. I am a tender—mending and stewarding softness. I invite you to join in the tending that is supporting me in the latter definition, knowing that I will share from the overflow in these newsletters.
If you can’t become a paid subscriber yet but want to tend monetarily you can Buy Me a Feather. You could visit the Bookshop, where I earn a 10% commission and buy a book for yourself or for me.
Want to explore collaborations, connect or share a resource for A Gentle Landing? Feel free to click these helpful Substack buttons below.
I am remembering a philosophy professor of mine in college who would (annoyingly) often remind us that the self is constructed. (I suppose his annoying tone was a pedagogical tool.)
oh, I am having an "orange" moment too! My toes have been orange for years because of shoes that I finally decided weren't worth the pain, but were my "wear to a wedding" shoes, and I have been adding more orange to my wardrobe--it's such a beautiful color. I was delighted at how much content this post had. I will check my calendar, thanks for putting the dates up! I so enjoy your work! Thank you for the care you put into it.