I took a training once in which we were asked to imagine ourselves entering a room of people gathered as a class, or a meeting, and asking ourselves, “Who am I, here?” The purpose of the question was something about finding your identity. I remember my response. I disappeared. Went blank. I am not a group person. I feel very shy and uncomfortable in groups.
Looking back now, I realize that the real question for me was not so much, “Who am I here?” but “Am I here?”
My life has been about learning how to be here. Finding the “I.” Then the “who” can become the natural flow of Presence out from that “I.” That sounds very esoteric, and I suppose it is, but it describes a challenging experience of real life for me. It has always felt so much easier and more natural to be with animals, with trees, with the wind, the land.
I have been thinking about all this as we develop the Commons in Lorian. I love the sense of welcoming that lives at the heart of the concept of the “Commons.” There is a comforting steadiness in knowing that each part of an intentional Commons seeks to act in a way that includes and benefits all parts of the collective whole. People being supportive to each other are caring about each other. We are building and weaving ourselves together into the larger Commons of Life.
Like most spiritually oriented people who are sensitive to energy fields, I notice when I do not feel actively welcomed in a situation. I find myself kind of turning inward, shriveling a little. I feel smaller, with less personal agency. I feel disconnected, even invisible or not present. I know I am helplessly radiating discomfort.
When I feel welcomed, something in me relaxes. I feel less self-conscious. I feel my feet on the floor. I feel energized, happy, creative, expansive. I feel drawn into participation. I can be a welcome-er myself. Welcoming is life giving and life honoring in the deepest sense.
Being welcomed means come and be well in my presence. What a powerful invitation. Especially when I imagine that it is the invitation of the whole of Gaia. Come. Be here. Be well in my presence.
I came across some companioning thoughts that build on this idea of welcoming from Sister Marion Lacey in her book, This Flowing Toward Me: A Story of God Arriving in Strangers. She says, “That precious experience — being contemplated, cherished, and celebrated — enables me in turn to welcome others: I begin to be less fearful of the other; I start to see the stranger as gift. I become willing to create space in myself to invite the other in, and I open myself to the possibility of being changed by the presence of the other.”
And in David Spangler’s words:
“No matter what happens, with Incarnational Spirituality tools and practices I can honor who I am and my being here in this world as an act of love.
“That love opens me up to this circulation of the commons around me, the commons of which I am a part, the life that surrounds me, the subtle life that is everywhere around me in all things, the sacred life that is everywhere around me and in all things.
“My center is not just in me as an isolated individual personality, it’s also centered in this being held by and participating within this subtle commons of life. That for me is where I start. That felt sense within me that embraces who I am and also embraces this embeddedness, this participation in the commons of life – I call that Presence.”
Through the practices of Incarnational Spirituality, I have learned how to welcome myself into my body. Learned to stand on my inner land. Learned to welcome my body into the world. Learned to open to the blessing of the other.
This is spirituality incarnating in the deepest sense. The benefits radiate out into the whole. I will probably always be drawn primarily to animals and wind and land, but now I know how to feel the Commons around me, wherever I am. I know who I am here.
Often poetry says it best…
LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
-David Wagoner