Harboring

In recent days I’ve been thinking about harboring. My reflection started sometime after U.S. troops were sent to Los Angeles and President Trump bombed nuclear sites in Iran. It has continued as Congress struggles with the U.S. budget proposal, deportations of law-abiding immigrants increase, and the Supreme Court hands down its plethora of rulings.

As a noun, “harbor” points to a place of security, a refuge; a part of a body of water protected and deep enough to furnish anchorage. Synonyms include haven, mooring, sanctuary, retreat, stronghold, hermitage.

If truth be told, my soul longs for a harbor— an on-the-way, in-between rest stop in which to catch my breath in the middle of this seemingly unending cultural and political storm in which we find ourselves. I’m not looking for a permanent escape. I simply need a place of comfort and rooting, a place to call home even if just for a little while. 

So, I’m identifying the sources of harbor in my life that provide respite. 

I get hints of it in the quiet, deep, thoughtful conversations with good friends and family and in a contemplative practice that is still— or always— in a state of refinement. I find it in spending time outside in nature and listening to classical music. Playing the piano unleashes the movement of Spirit. Participation in Ignatius Loyola’s daily examen accompanied by journaling opens me to self-examination. My deep dive into fine-art photography releases bursts of purposeful creativity. Of course, John Wesley’s means of grace offer a discipline, a method for harboring.* 

What might be other yet-to-be-mined oases in my life that offer solace, serenity, and a source of fortitude in these disruptive times?

*For more information, Google Wesley’s means of grace.