A Journey of Soul Care (part 3)

Today’s post covers the final stories of my journey of soul care, the lessons I learned on a recent road trip to Tucson. If you missed parts 1 or 2, catch up here: https://bit.ly/2DHtDjv and here: https://bit.ly/2GvsmQo

On Day 3 in Tucson I joined Kevin to take in some of the gem and mineral show. We headed for a particular venue he wanted to see, and found ourselves instead at an African Art Village. Though not what Kevin was looking for, I was thrilled! Various vendors had gorgeous handmade baskets for sale, and I bought several. I also found one woman selling colorful African fabric, the kind the African women who attend the refugee sewing group love. It wasn’t cheap, but Kevin agreed that I should buy some for the group. I explained to the vendor what it was for, and she worked with me on a price. The lessons: Embrace the gift of a beautiful surprise, even if it’s not what you were originally looking for. Be generous when you can, to yourself and to others. 

We eventually did find the mineral venue we had originally set out for, only a block away from the African market. In the early afternoon I left Kevin there while I set out to visit a botanical garden. However, the expected morning rain had held off and brought afternoon showers instead. I was exhausted, so I drove right past the gardens and back to the hotel, where I took an afternoon nap. The lesson: We can’t do everything. Sometimes it’s more important to rest than to act. Be gentle with yourself. 

On Day 4 I visited the Misión San Xavier del Bac, a Catholic mission church on the Tohono O’odham Reservation. The church is fascinating and offers numerous subjects for photography. After exploring the outdoors, the indoors, and the chapel, I decided to take a look at the “museum,” which turned out to be a small dingy room with newspaper clippings adorning the walls. The real jewel lay beyond the museum: the picturesque courtyard behind. It seemed that the only way tourists had to access the courtyard view was by going through the museum. Yet the courtyard is where I found the most beauty and peace. The lesson: In soul care it is in going deep into the interior, to the hidden places, where we find beauty and peace. Sometimes we have to go through ugly things in order to get there.

Even though we spent most of our days in Tucson doing separate things, Kevin and I always ate dinner together. The most delicious meals we enjoyed were at restaurants recommended by my friend who lived in Tucson for ten years. The lesson: Seek advice from others who have gone before you. Learn from their experience, and enjoy the results!

Though we had traveled the interstates to get to Tucson, Kevin and I decided to take the roads less traveled for our return trip. This resulted in passing through miles of beautiful old-growth saguaro cacti, and stumbling on a gorgeous canyon carved through the mountains by I don’t know what river. We were amazed by the secret beauty that was all around us. The lesson: If you want to go fast, you won’t see much. If you want to enjoy the beauty, the journey will take longer. 

We began our final day of travel by visiting Petroglyph National Monument. When we first started hiking the trail, we were scouring the rocks for petroglyphs, wondering where they all were. I had no sooner remarked to Kevin that we would probably turn a corner and see hundreds of them, than that’s what happened. The lesson: Don’t look too hard for something that obviously isn’t there. Sometimes the signs will be clear and obvious.

In northern new Mexico we encountered a dust storm! I’ve seen dust storms in Mongolia, and Kevin has in the Middle East, but neither of us had ever experienced one in the U.S. We tried to outrun the storm to no avail. So we pulled off the road and shut off the truck to protect the engine and other internal parts and we waited out the storm. The lesson: Don’t be surprised if you encounter storms of any kind soon after a period of soul care. Practice what you’ve learned, hunker down, and protect your heart. This too shall pass.

Throughout this entire journey, I found myself making notes about what I was learning. I knew that with so much sensory input and so many lessons, I would otherwise forget. The lessons: Be attentive. Look and listen for what may be below the surface. Keep a journal if you find it helpful for remembering, processing, or releasing your thoughts. If you don’t find it helpful, don’t do it. And don’t be so caught up with the journaling that you miss the experience itself.

I never did get to visit the Tohono Chul Gardens, Sabino Canyon, or the Holy Trinity Monastery, all of which were on my wish list. These visits remain for another trip to Tucson, something to which I can look forward. The lesson: You can only do just so much. Enjoy it. Don’t be disappointed that some things must be revisited. Instead, look forward to your next adventures. 

 

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Gorgeous African fabric
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Misión San Xavier del Bac
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The courtyard view.
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Unexpected beauty.
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Petroglyph National Monument
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Dust storm!

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A Journey of Soul Care (part 2)

Today’s post is a continuation of my journey of soul care, the lessons I learned on a recent road trip to Tucson. If you missed Part 1, catch up here: https://bit.ly/2DHtDjv

On Day 2 in Tucson I drove the scenic byway up Mount Lemmon. The road is full of switchbacks and scenic pullouts. It’s also full of tourists and locals in cars and on bicycles. The speed limit generally ranges between 20- 40 mph, yet I sometimes saw cars rushing past at 50 mph or more. Much of the beauty on this drive cannot be seen while driving a car. One has to stop at the scenic pullouts in order to find the intimate canyons and the rare cactus flowers. The lessons: Slow down. The journey is the destination, and it’s beautiful. Stop often; don’t rush through life or soul care. Seek the beauty around you.

Driving up Mount Lemmon requires that one be respectful of fellow travelers. If you’re driving slowly, use the pullouts so other cars can pass you. Don’t crowd the bicyclists or pedestrians. Share the road. So it goes with soul care: Respect your fellow pilgrims, no matter their method of travel. Make room for everyone. We’re all in this together.

On such a journey, one should neither drive like a lunatic nor park like one. My husband’s truck was recently totaled in a hail storm, and the insurance money was significant. We bought a new truck that’s several inches longer than the previous one, making it a challenge to park within spaces the length of compact cars. At one particular pullout there were few cars when I arrived, so I parked the truck diagonally across two spaces. After much rock scrambling and photographing, I returned to the truck to find a full parking lot and a note on the windshield: “I admire your parking” and a smile. Several lessons here: When you do something stupid (as we all occasionally do), own your mistakes and learn from them. I deserved that note. Actually, I deserved a much less kind note for the way I had parked. If you feel the need to call out your fellow travelers, do so gently, with grace and positive humor. Too many people feel the need to unkindly judge and criticize their fellow travelers, causing more harm than they can know. But this gentle note left me laughing all day, even as I realized my own mistake. I tried to park more carefully after that.

As I climbed the mountain, I found that some scenic views were on the other side of the road, often on curves in the road. I decided not to risk crossing oncoming traffic that I couldn’t see. Better to catch those views on the return trip. On the way back down the mountain, the lighting was even better! The lesson: You can’t do everything exactly when you want to. Some things will actually be better (and safer) if you take them in their own time.

The Mount Lemmon road is celebrated for traveling from the desert through alpine forests, as if driving from Mexico all the way to Canada because of the change in elevation. At the bottom there are cactus; at the top there was snow. Families were delighting in snowball fights, and young adults were sledding just off the road. Though I was personally in Tucson to escape the winter and enjoy the desert, some of those travelers were likely on the mountain to escape the desert and enjoy the snow. The lesson: Understand that you don’t know any other person’s journey or their reasons for making it. Appreciate each person’s joy along the way.

As I made my way up Mount Lemmon, I passed dozens of cyclists, usually in ones or twos. Sometimes they would pass me again as I stopped to take photographs, and we would leap frog our way up the mountain. As I made my way back down the mountain, I passed fewer cyclists, as their speed often almost matched my own. I thought to myself, Wow! What a ride! Knowing full well—as a former cycling junkie myself—the hours and intensity of training necessary to climb that mountain in the first place, not to mention the cost of their equipment. The cyclists earned that joyous flight down the mountain! The lesson: Don’t be jealous of what others have that you don’t. They’ve likely worked harder and sacrificed more than you are willing to in order to attain those particular goals. Respect their journey, and celebrate their successes with them. 

This concludes Day 2 in Tucson. Coming soon, Part 3, the final stories of my journey of soul care. Stay tuned!

 

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Mount Lemmon Scenic Byway
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Cactus in bloom
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See the heart?
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A gentle message

 

 

A Journey of Soul Care (part 1)

Today’s post has nothing to do with immigration or refugees. But it is about soul care, an essential practice for anyone involved in justice work.

My husband and I recently made a road trip to Tucson, a much-needed vacation that did not involve visiting family, attending a conference, or doing mission work. For me this vacation was an opportunity to intensify my current season of soul care. My adventures were my prayers—enjoying God’s presence in nature and remaining attentive for what I could learn. For my husband, the Tucson trip was an opportunity to explore an enormous gem and mineral show with multiple venues. Here lies the first lesson in soul care: Do what you love, and encourage others to do what they love. Of course compromise is necessary to make a marriage or any relationship work. But individuals also need to take time to do what they love, what brings them pure joy. For Kevin that was attending a mineral show; for me that was exploring nature with my new camera.

The first night we spent in Tucson a thunderstorm rolled in and settled overhead. The rain and dark clouds persisted into the morning. I had plans to visit the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum, several sprawling cactus gardens complete with zoo animals and educational exhibits. The thunderstorm and dark clouds had me stymied: all my plans for Tucson were for outdoor activities. What now? I decided to visit the museum anyway. As I headed across town I left the dark clouds behind me and entered a land of blue skies. The day could not have been any more beautiful. The lesson: Even when dark clouds are parked overhead, step out in hope and trust that the skies will clear. Don’t miss opportunities out of hesitation or fear.

I drove toward the museum with a map in my mind and on the car seat next to me. But as I neared the desert, I spotted brown signs pointing another way. I ditched my plans and followed the signs. They took me along a beautiful winding road lined with hills full of saguaros. This route took me through the Tucson Mountain Park, where I made several stops to enjoy and photograph the beautiful scenery. The lessons: Remain open to detours. Trust the signs to a more scenic route. Stop often to enjoy the beauty that surrounds you. The journey is indeed as important as the destination. Nothing is wasted.

Shooting photography in the desert requires a different way of looking at things. A photographer must learn to seek the beauty among the thorns. Notice the smallest details, and pursue fresh and unusual perspectives. The same applies to soul care.

I wandered every path in the desert museum, photographing to my heart’s delight. I was surprised when at 1:00, my camera battery was dead! The battery was supposed to be good for 1,000 or more photos, and I had only shot about 300. However, I quickly realized that in my excitement of shooting so much beauty and figuring out my new camera, I had neglected to turn the camera off in between shooting sprees. The lesson: Conserve your energy to avoid burning out. Live with passion and enthusiasm, but also realize that your energy is not unlimited. I went back to the parking lot to retrieve my old camera, and I charged batteries that night at the hotel. I didn’t have that problem again.

This concludes Day 1 in Tucson. I learned much more in the coming days, but to keep this post from becoming longer than anyone would read, I’ve split it into three separate posts. Stay tuned for Part 2, continuing stories of my journey of soul care, coming soon.

 

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Tucson Mountain Park
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Arizona Sonora Desert Museum
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Beauty among the thorns
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Crouching low for a different perspective

 

 

Holding Joy and Sorrow Together

What a week it’s been. Doing life together with anyone—sharing each other’s joys and sorrows—will always come with challenges. But it seems to me that walking with society’s most vulnerable people brings its own peculiar pain and gladness.

I’m grateful to have celebrated several times this week with one particular refugee family. Sunday evening brought a birthday party for two siblings both born in August. The girl is now seven years old, and her brother is one. Friends from their own ethnic community, their church, neighbors, and volunteer English teachers were all present at the party. Food was abundant, there were two cakes, and of course piles of presents. The pastors prayed blessings on the children, and the seven-year-old happily tore through all the gifts, whether they were for her or for her brother.

Later in the week I accompanied the mother to a doctor’s appointment where her new pregnancy was confirmed. She wasn’t planning to have another child, but is grateful for the gift of this baby, which she sees as a blessing from God. We also went to an open house at school to meet her daughter’s second grade teacher, and I helped reunite the family with their lost cell phone. I consider it a privilege to participate in these happy moments and to be considered part of the family.

But belonging to a community also brings great sorrow. Last week three refugee children aged five and under fell (or were pushed?) into a swimming pool. An older child pulled them out and they were rushed to the hospital. The two youngest children are fine, but the five-year-old died.

Two fellow ESL/sewing group volunteers accompanied me to the funeral this week. There was an open casket and we were invited to pay our respects as we viewed the body. The sorrow in that church was almost tangible, as some of the women wailed in misery.

How do we hold such joy and deep sorrow together? How do we remain in community even when it’s painful?

Practice sabbath. Make time for things that bring you joy and restore your spirit.

Look for beauty and give thanks when you find it.

Express love and sincere appreciation to those people who support you.

Get outdoors. Experience the healing power of nature. Exercise. Go for a hike or bike ride or swim.

Create something, anything, as long the process brings you joy.

Meet with friends, the ones who love you deeply and unconditionally.

Get away for a weekend. Have fun.

Listen to an inspiring sermon or podcast or webinar.

Pray. Sing. Meditate.

Live into the rhythms of nature. Turn off your devices and get enough sleep at night. Embrace that there are seasons for planting, for growing, for harvesting, and for hibernating. Don’t try to do them all at once. Hunker down when you need to.

Be good to yourself and to others.

Seek joy. Sorrow knows how to find us. But only light can cast out darkness. Look for the light.