There is a beautiful complexity of growth within the human soul. In order to glimpse this, it is helpful to visualize the mind as a tower of windows. Sadly, many people remain trapped at the one window, looking out every day at the same scene in the same way. Real growth is experienced when you draw back from that one window, turn, and walk around the inner tower of the soul and see all the different windows that await your gaze. Through these different windows, you can see new vistas of possibility, presence, and creativity. Complacency, habit, and blindness often prevent you from feeling your life. So much depends on the frame of vision – the window through which you look.
~ John O’Donohue
Dear Springhouse community,
I hope this letter finds you engaged with your life, community, and place in ways that bring you alive.
There is no doubt we need more vitality these days.
I have been spending time recently reflecting with gratitude on the mentors and communities who have supported me over many years to become more fully who I am. We can only go so far on this inner journey alone, and now more than ever, it is essential that we have places to practice coming home to who we truly are. In this letter, I will share some stories that reflect the importance of mentorship and community as we grow more fully into our authentic selves.
When I was 19, I woke up to my inner life in an extraordinary way. It was then that I met my very first guide who introduced me to things like breathwork, ritual, and returning to a conscious relationship with my body. She also did something that I will never forget: She set the standard for what I would look for in a mentor for the rest of my life. Back in 1991, as I sat in her office one day sharing with her about whatever was happening for me at that moment, she interrupted me. She asked me to stop talking, and then she said, “Jenny, I am not going to continue to work with you until you stop drinking.” She knew that no matter what we did, the root of my challenges would always be my drinking problem, and until I faced that, nothing would change. I left in anger. About four months later, after having faced further and more serious problems because of my drinking, I returned to this teacher and worked with her for five more years. She taught me profound and lasting ways to get to know more of myself. She saw beneath the surface and symptoms of my life and went for the root of my problems. She taught me at a young age how to pay attention to what is beneath the surface and live in deep and sturdy ways.
In my 20s, I met three very important mentors in my life — a Catholic priest, a former Franciscan monk who became a hospital chaplain, and my supervisor in my Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) program. After I had received a cancer diagnosis, these three held my hand through some of the darkest moments of my life. Tom, the Catholic priest at the time, taught me how to sit with myself. He taught me what “Be still and know that I am God” means by guiding me toward the experience of stillness. John, the chaplain (who ended up marrying my husband and I back in 1998), showed me the power of support groups and singing in ways that freed me from my fear. I still remember sitting in a group of mostly people who were 60+ years old (when I was 25), and letting them hold my hand as I learned how to live with the very real possibility of death from cancer. Lastly, Jim, my CPE supervisor, carried the fire of honesty and clarity and the water of compassion. He taught me how to sit with others in their pain with integrity and self-awareness. I still remember him offering me his wisdom, saying, “Jenny, every time you leave a patient in the hospital, to remind yourself that you are not responsible for the pain of others, bow your head at the door of every room you leave.”
In my 30s, I joined First Congregational Church in Colorado Springs and met many mentors and friends there. A fellow church member, Jerusha, and I were part of a group called Soul Feast. When Jerusha shared with that group that she “danced her prayers”, something deep within me woke up. She guided me to the work of Gabrielle Roth, and not long thereafter, I met one of the most important teachers of my life, Melissa. I danced with Melissa, who was a student of Gabrielle Roth, for years. After the loss of my Dad, an eight-year long estrangement from my mother, and the birth of my son, I had to find a way to channel my anger and grief. I had to find a way to let what is eternal find its way back to me. Melissa danced with me as I moved through immense pain and grief and found my way back to the Earth as mother. When I remembered what I truly and fundamentally belong to, I was free in ways I had not been before.
In my early 40s, it was the people on my dissertation committee who supported and challenged me. I defended my doctoral work, which explored the power of creatively and courageously exploring the inner shadow to live more clearly and compassionately in this world. After the presentation, I was in tears, feeling scared and misunderstood after some of the comments and questions I received. My committee Chair, Joan, found me by a fountain and said to me, “Jenny, if you care about people liking you, you picked the wrong calling.” The other committee members are some of the most powerful people I know: Len has always held a candle in the dark for me and reminded me that to come alive is “treacherous and beautiful”; Celeste is a powerhouse who reminded me that a scholar can be in her body and should be no matter what; and David is a man of the trees and the snow who teaches me to be courageous by the choices he makes.
Later, in my 40s, I returned to a mentoring relationship with a person who I had known in my 30s — my sponsor in an addiction recovery program. I have known her for decades and meet with her every Friday morning to talk about the relationship we have with a power greater than ourselves and how it has restored us to sanity. We explore our gifts and shortcomings with a lot of love and grace. I would not be who I am — and my marriage likely would not have survived — if it were not for her steadfast love and commitment to me and our shared recovery work. She introduced the “God Box” to me — a small ceramic jar that I place my worries in regularly as a ritual of surrender and trust. It’s how I often pray.
Finally, as I landed firmly in my 50s four years ago, I continue to be surrounded by powerful mentors and friends. The Springhouse staff, Trustees, and community are my mirror and have helped me to grow in ways I could not have possibly imagined. Working with a group of people who are oriented around the power of life and committed to the shared work of building beloved community has allowed me to see through the many windows of my soul. It is liberating to commit to and be in long-term relationships with people, day in and day out. I see the gifts I have to offer and the shortcomings I continue to face just by being with them.
Looking through the many windows of the “inner tower of my soul” has happened with the support of these mentors and many more I have not mentioned. I would not be who I am without them and I never would have been able to see the many facets of myself without their support. Howard Thurman wrote that the world needs more people who have come alive. These mentors, and the communities I was and am a part of, have shown me that there is no way I can come alive by myself. It seems easier to go it alone, but that path does not hold a candle to the liberation that is possible through community and mentorship. To come more fully alive, we need long-term communities and places of practice that include the ancient practice of mentorship. Springhouse is one of those places, and it continues to thrive. I hope there will be many more places with this purpose and I am grateful to you for being a part of it.
On that note, we have our one and only annual fundraiser coming up next month. The month of June is always full of excitement as we work together as a community to bring in the financial resources we need to do the important work of building beloved community. It is clear now more than ever that we need places that welcome and accept all people and are committed to learning how to better connect and care for the Earth. If you are interested in giving there will be plenty of opportunities to do so in June, and if you would like to raise funds on our behalf, please contact Carolyn Reilly for more information.
May we all have the communities, places, and mentors that we need to come alive. In gratitude,
Jenny
