forest things and new tattoos
wow, i'm really on brand today
This year for Lent, I didn’t give anything up. I’m already well aware of the ways I fall short, of my vices and sins and prickly places.
I know too well the ways the world breaks its own heart, the injustice and the death and the trauma. I can’t forget. I don’t need reminders.
What I need is deep, true comfort; not the shallow, fleeting stuff. I need a good, long holding. I need to feel rooted and present, connected to the divine through a means that fills, not depletes, me.
So this Lent I’ve taken daily walks in the woods. And since the very first one, I have found my needs met. The God who dwells here cares not for obligatory sacrifices or self-imposed suffering, but for nourishment and belonging and the promise of a greater goodness.
The God of the woods demands nothing but for love to be believed.
Oh what’s that you say? You want more nature-based reflections? Twist my arm then. Here’s my contribution to Ignatian Solidarity Network’s Lenten series — complete with an audio option, if that’s your thing. I was assigned Feb. 29, wherein I take issue with Psalm 1. Good times.
In other news, the end of February marked one year since I was in the hospital on life support with septic shock. (You can read about that here if you’re new.) I celebrated by spending one entire day on the couch and another getting a commemorative tattoo. (If you noticed my email absence last weekend, this was why.) I feel super lucky to be in good physical health these days. When it comes to anxiety and trauma responses, well the body keeps the score, as they say, but I don’t take it for granted that I am still here.
OK, that’s all from me for now. What about an update from you? How is Lent going? Any new tattoos? What are you reading or writing these days? I just bought the book Soil: The Story of a Black Mother’s Garden as a gift for Eric at our local bookstore. If you’re looking for a spring read, that could be the one!
Sending peace and grace your way,
Shannon
Dearest Shannon. Your offerings are pithy, to the point, and always timely.
" The God who dwells here cares not for obligatory sacrifices or self-imposed suffering, but for nourishment and belonging and the promise of a greater goodness."
A FB friend shared today that measles in having a riotous comeback in America, welcomed by many for whatever sacrificial reason it serves. The god of old be praised in the wake of this new version of plagues on offer!
Another post told us the BEST places to live in the USA if there is a nuclear war! My first thoughts were ah....we are back to the sacrificial lambs so loved biblically as a way to show the god of your choice that you love HIM. I can stretch that to the plagues of Ancient Egypt; another way to worship the mighty powers of the thirsty gods of old; demented brain dis-ease is alive and well, the de-ment-ia of our times showing up in tedious cloaks of a not so holy darkness. Anyway, this is what came to me as I read your offering, Shannon. I am a fall away Catholic who has never re-invented the concept of LENT to nourish any part of my life...Sacrifice is just too tainted with memories of women burning at the stake, steers charcoaling on the barbecue, forest fires set alight by angry guys with beer in hand; all in all, sacrifice is just over-rated, in my view.
I too prefer a nourishing presence, a Holy Presence filled with galaxies of care and tenderness. A divinity that is always on the move in my life, a river that carries me / us in Her mighty womb. Her holy blood always attends and tends to Her creation wishing us an ever expanding conscious journey under Her MATERNAL GAZE. Frankly, sacrifice is a puzzlement to Her, a self obsessed way to diminish the field of BELONGING available to us as children of Great Mother. It seems, actually, that it is SHE that must do the necessary sacrificing based on whatever the hu-mans are cooking and serving up each day.
The note about your mom hating your tattoo made me laugh. When I got my first tattoo - a 1/4 sleeve shouldercap of Mary with baby Jesus - my mom teared up at how beautiful it was and then asked 'So now you're done with tattoos, right?' Nope! Got my second, a forearm tattoo of an owl with Easter lilies in honor of her, in December. She died last February and owls were her favorite. I can hear her saying 'I love the owl, but did you have to get such a big one?!?' 😂