Letter from Jenny: January 2025

God, grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to do the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

~ The Serenity Prayer

Dear Springhouse community,

Blessings to you this midwinter. Since my last letter, I have learned some good lessons about surrender, acceptance, love, and beauty that I want to share with you. I could sum up my learning in the words of philosopher Albert Camus: “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”

I have been training for a half marathon since June. I signed up to do the Kiawah Island Marathon in mid-December mostly because I heard from a friend that it was very flat. Running 13.1 miles already seemed impossible to me, so flat was essential. I started running a mile at a time. My longest run before the half was 11 miles. I never in my life thought I could run that far. My coach (who is also my sister) said, “You are ready” in a text to me after that final long run. 

I packed up my things and hopped in the car with my husband, on our way to meet my daughter and her boyfriend in South Carolina. My daughter and I were to run this together. We had been training together, and we were to take on this challenge together. The night before we left, I had a feeling I was getting sick. Once in the car, my suspicions were confirmed. With each minute that passed, I felt worse. By the time I got to South Carolina, I was not well. I spent all of Friday taking Vitamin C, taking hot and cold showers, doing ginger steams for my sinuses, resting, and seeking encouragement and support from my community.  

My daughter arrived that Friday night, and we all got in the car to pick up our bibs and t-shirts. My face was swollen, and my respiratory system was severely challenged, but somehow I was still slightly hopeful I would wake up and feel like I could run on Saturday. When I woke up the next day, I knew it was not going to happen for me. I did what I could, but I needed to accept that this was not the time for me to complete this challenge. I had all kinds of feelings, and ultimately, I had perspective, too. I know not running a half marathon is not the end of the world. I do — and have — faced much worse than this, as many do in our communities and around the world. 

This perspective has come from many years of practice. It has taken time, practice, and guidance to learn how to accept life on life’s terms, feel my feelings fully without orienting around them, and wait with trust for a deeper source to sustain me through the waves of difficulty, no matter what they are. Nothing matters to me more than the cultivation of this deep peace. Though I did not run the race, I saw my daughter finish strong. What a gift. 

The Serenity Prayer has been a constant reminder and friend to me for the past 35 years. It points me back to the deep peace that comes from accepting what I cannot change, using my agency to change what I can, and having the self-awareness to know the difference between the two. This prayer returns me to the light, the invincible summer, the fire that never goes out within me. It is the warmth and clarity of this light that allows me to navigate difficulty — not just in my personal life, like with the half marathon, but also with how we at Springhouse navigate the ecological and societal challenges we face today. 

At Springhouse, we do our best to let what we hope for in the world begin with ourselves. We accept that the global challenges we face, which are deep and many, are not something we can manage or change willfully. Change happens when we let the change we hope for begin with ourselves — as a person or as a community. It is important to remember, too, that acceptance does not mean condoning or affirming what is happening. It means bringing the deep and rigorous love we cultivate in ourselves to the challenging situations we face, personally and collectively. This is not easy. The cultivation of that rigorous love requires the support of a consistent community, life-giving practices, and mentorship. This is the deepest reason we exist — to return to that love, live the gift of our lives fully, and to serve a world experiencing great challenge. We need places to practice remembering that. 

Now more than ever, let us return to love and show up in the world courageously, creatively, clearly, and compassionately. Thank you for being a part of this collective effort — committed to change by starting with ourselves.

Gratefully,

Jenny