Holding Space + Savoring
It’s a sunny afternoon here in the PNW. I’ve been in my office holding space for us.
I’m holding space for our tender hearts, heavy with tensions and contradictions, the places we feel unseen and in between.
I’m savoring tiny signs of new patterns emerging, the felt sense of being witnessed, the way friendship calls forth facets of our aliveness that are hard to reach alone, and the timeless lyrical wisdom of the Indigo Girls…
Love At First Listen
I first encountered the Indigo Girls in my freshman year of college. It was love at first listen. I was immediately captivated by their enigmatic lyrics and delicious harmony. I traveled to see them at Red Rocks that summer (1992!) with my roommates.
They are one of the only bands whose lyrics still consistently meet me, season after season.
They allude to my home faith tradition. They name complexities artfully without attempting to resolve them.
They’ve called forth in me the courage to doubt, to relax my eyes into paradox and unknowing, and to tell the truth beautifully.
I smile thinking back on 18-year-old Kirsten. Even though she spent lots of time at home inside the lines, she wasn’t afraid to swim around in Mystery — to let her soul love what it loved — and it’s right there she found the center.
This song came on last night as I was driving home from a visit with a friend, and it has accompanied me throughout the day. I sense an invitation to offer it here.
I like to hold whatever line grabs me on a given day as a prism.
Love’s Recovery
During the time of which I speak
It was hard to turn the other cheek
To the blows of insecurity
Feeding the cancer of my intellect
The blood of love soon neglected
Lay dying in the strength of its impurity
Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
They've all gone and left each other
In search for fairer weather
We sit here in our storm
And drink a toast to the slim chance of love's recovery
Here I am in younger days star star-gazing
Painting picture-perfect maps
Of how my life and love would be
Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection
My compass: faith in love's perfection
I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen
Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
Left each other one by one on the road to fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm
And drink a toast to the slim chance of love's recovery
Rain soaked and voice choked
Like silent screaming in a dream
I search for our absolute distinction
Not content to bow and bend
To whims of culture that swoop like vultures
They're eating us away, (eating us away)
They're eating us away to our extinction
O how I wish I were a trinity
So if lost a part of me
I'd still have two of the same to live
But nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal
As specks of dust, we're universal
To let this love survive be the greatest gift we could give
Tell all the friends who think they're so together
That these are ghosts and mirages
All these thoughts of fairer weather
Though it’s stormy now I feel safe
Within the arms of love's discovery
We Are Alive
This is it, friends. We are alive. It’s painful and exquisite.
“It's real, and sometimes it fuckin' hurts, but it’s sort of all we have."
What if this is exactly where we find the center?
Could this be the season when grace, mercy, or Love softens from a concept into a taste?
Love, Kirsten
P.S. The Indigo Girls may not call to you the way they call to me…and that’s okay! I’m curious…who’s your “Indigo Girls?” What band or artist meets you, season after season? What do they call forth in you?
What are you holding space for today?
What are you savoring?
Invitations
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