Vows

A photo of standing stones near Langley, Washington, on Whidbey Island


“When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing or frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

Excerpt from Mary Oliver’s Poem: When Death Comes.
From her New and Selected Poems, Beacon Press 1992
(Perhaps the best poem written in modern times.)

I’ve been considering the vows I made in a ceremony on Whidbey Island in April of 2001. In a round sanctuary called the Marsh House I fasted and prayed for three days. On the fourth I was met by two friends. I read a long elaborate list of vows of service for the world I was then asked to boil them down to three. I have kept those three vows close to my heart and private. As St. Francis said: “Preach the gospel constantly, and sometimes use words.” I was anointed with oil. I was given a blessing by the elders. Then I was sent out of that round house into the world. I felt like my life finally began to break the surface and breathe on that day. And I found myself actually making more messes and crying more after my initiation. Living is not an ideal or a thought or sixteen thousand words in a book. Being human is as messy and as rich as you allow it to be. In the six years since I have lost the friends from the circular house, experienced family turning their backs on me, lost a great and mostly unrequited love.

Today I dug up my long list of vows. One vow was to simply experience every emotion and event as a guest walking through my life, being grateful for their teachings. This writing project is opening internal space to be grateful again. Another vow was to allow room for creativity and art every day. The lifeline of the Creator’s voice speaking through art saved me. In the writing I’m reminded about how messy and actually delicious life is. Even the sadness and losses along the way. We all share these experiences. For me, the vows and the witnessing of/by friends has given me a structure to fall back on in stormy times. These have also helped me to call for the Oneness to bring compassion through me in some way mysterious and kind. I hope that kindness is the result of this project. Getting the resistance and turmoil to move through the body and onto the page is a step. Perhaps this project is another dedication to be real and live in the messy world.

What vows do you keep in the private areas of your soul? What brings joy to your heart?

Sixteen Thousand words this week.

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