The Companioning Center Blog
There is a space between All Saints Day and the Winter Solstice that invites us to breath in the cool scent of darkness. There is a heaviness to the shift in season that feels like a weighted blanket on your chest. The days are getting shorter at the behest of the night’s watch. All Saints Day invites us to remember the Saints who have passed on, while surfacing grief that was blinded by the light of longer days.
I think many of us treat our unbelieving parts like enemies to overcome. We try to reason with them, silence them, shape them into belief. But I’m learning that the parts of me that struggle to believe are not faithless. More often than not, they’re afraid. They’ve been touched by pain. They’ve seen some things and know life doesn’t always work out according to our plans, our hopes, our dreams.
October is one of those months that seems to sit at a precipice. It’s the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the holiday season. The weather is shifting, but not at its winter peak of coldness. Animals have likely begun hibernation, but some plant life is still holding on, the soil sending the last of its goodness up through roots and stalks.
If I were sitting across from you, I would ask you how you are doing. There is so much happening in the world that tending to one another is essential for our well-being. My heart struggles to understand the divisions, the noise, and the constant stream of information—both lies and truth—all mixed up together. It is exhausting. Dorothy Day and Wendell Berry have been voices in my own journey through these chaotic times.