News from Jules | 04.11.2022 | Let it Linger
How was I going to “do it all” and not get burned out? Well, when do you rest? This isn’t just a recurring conversation that I have with myself, but has been an ongoing dialogue with my Spiritual Director Jack Kennedy throughout the past seven and a half years.
Surprisingly, even a simple life requires an ongoing calibration of effort and rest—doing and being—by keeping sacred space.
Right now I intentionally have less going on from day-to-day, but my dreams are as ambitious as ever: Climb mountains, conceive life, find true love, write a book, live in harmony with nature. No big deal.
“You’ve got a lot of sh*t going on, Jules,” Jack said in his typical gentle, no-nonsense way during our monthly Zoom call in March and the day after the Spring Equinox.
Growing up New Age without any pastoral role models, I have no frame of reference if this is part of The Jesuit Way and priesthood or just Jack. Given the eclectic sources that he quotes—from Saint Ignatius to Psalms to cosmology—I imagine it’s the latter.
Per usual he was right.
Who doesn’t have a lot of sh*t going on right now?
Every week for the past seven and a half years, I observe Sabbath through a day of being offline with no plans and no work. But it isn’t just about taking time off.
What was the quality of my rest?, Jack wanted to know. How restorative was it? And was it a match for my Self-Care style?
What is a Self-Care style?
Intrigued, I leaned toward the laptop screen, resting my chin in my palms, as Jack explained what he knew about the correlation between the nine Enneagram types, a popular personality-type model, and the best contemplative and restorative practices: Silence, Solitude and Stillness.
According to an online article, the Enneagram was brought to North America by the psychologist Claudio Naranjo and then slowly taught and spread throughout the Jesuit spiritual community. Its roots are of a psychological and spiritual nature.
It’s become so popular I’ve even seen beautiful, Enneagram-scented candles by Paddywax at New Seasons, a regional grocery chain here on the West Coast. For example, apparently my “sensitive, introspective, expressive, dramatic” #4 personality-type smells like smoked cedar, spiced musk and creamy sandalwood. The Invidiualist indeed.
Jack explained to me how the different types have optimal ways to recharge. And if mis-matched, would be as if the charging cord wasn’t fully plugged into a smartphone. Hours later, it would still be sitting there at 17%. Jack noted that he and his wife often forgot to practice their preference.
The restorative practices include:
Silence: The head types (5, 6, and 7) take everything in through their minds. It’s important to schedule weekly, or even daily, moments of silence.
Solitude: The heart types (2, 3, and 4) take in their day-to-day interactions through the filter of emotion. They find their strength and connection in aloneness.
Stillness: The gut types (8, 9, and 1) take in daily experiences instinctively and filter in a more physical way. They find their center in stillness.
Like so many of my conversations with Jack, I blinked at the camera and took slower breaths as my mind was actively being blown.
Of course. Even though I nurture tons of relationships through quality time, I require sacred space by myself to absorb the meaning of these connections. But, then why weren’t my typically solo Sabbaths really nourishing me lately?
Could it have to do with spending too much time inside—inside my head, inside my emotions, inside the house?
In all my efforts to live in harmony with nature, I wasn’t just being in nature. In my true nature.
For example, I keep bringing my journal with me on hikes and adventures so that I can sit and draw the beauty I see. And yet, only snacks and my phone keep coming out of my pack during quick breaks.
I need to linger.
Since our call last month, I’ve been more intentional about practicing all three—Silence, Solitude, Stillness.
Early this morning, I made hot cocoa and sat by the front window watching the unseasonable and very unexpected snowflakes fall silently atop the two inches already blanketing the world in white. Instead of reading The New York Times daily news digest on my phone per my morning routine, I went out for a walk in the quiet world.
Last Thursday, I wrapped up essential tasks early so that I could drive out to the Hood River waterfront on an unseasonably sunny, windless, 75 degree day. I set out from the beach on a Standup Paddleboard. Gazing at the sparkling blue water and green hills of the Gorge while I slowly paddled, I realized I was the solitary person out there. I had the entire Columbia River to myself.
Two weeks ago, I stepped into my favorite soaking pool at Breitenbush Hot Springs. My bare skin melted onto the smooth stones as I steeped in the 110 degree water. Laying perfectly still and starring across the meadow and the river for 15 minutes, I saw a pair of birds swooping in rhythm above the snow speckled hill tops.
Turning out, tuning in, restoring the silent, solitary, still place within that connects us to everything.
I can’t wait to report my learnings back to Jack next week on our call: Per usual he’s onto something.
I need deeper rest.
I need to fully recharge every week, if not every day.
May you make opportunities to linger this week.
Love,
Jules