Both Sides By Rev. Nina D. Grey August, 2002

Reflection on the apparently opposite experiences of solitude and community ...

It's the beginning of my summer vacation and I am sitting in my sister's basement, no windows. Her computer is down here with bookcases, filing cabinets, and storage. I am up against the newsletter deadline for the August newsletter because I didn't manage to get it all done before vacation started and I left for Madison, Wisconsin. So here I am, staring at her computer monitor, and my mind is blank. I stare, brooding instead of musing. Then it comes to me. I am missing my beloved vista, Lake Michigan, the city skyline. How dependent I am on the natural world for inspiration and joy! I remember then that no matter where I have lived, I have made an intentional practice of taking walks in solitude as part of the creative process of writing. I vow now that these vacation weeks will make room for the experiences of nature that renew my spirit and open me up to creativity. I hope you also will make room for whatever kinds of experience allow your spirit to breath and grow.

Before I left for my vacation, our church and community celebrated the life of Arnita Boswell, who died on Saturday, July 6. For the last seven months of her life, Arnita lived on the west coast with her daughter, Bonnie, Bonnie's husband and children. In those months, Arnita was blessed with loving care and a spaciousness that comes from Bonnie's own Buddhist spirituality. We missed Arnita's presence in our lives and we now grieve our loss, but we are comforted knowing that Arnita was surrounded with love. Bonnie helped us all celebrate Arnita's life with an uplifting affirmation of a life of service and commitment to justice. Many of our members ushered, greeted, helped with parking, provided a reception, and generally created a welcoming spirit for the 500 guests who came to honor Arnita's life. I was reminded of how, even in the summer when many are away, we are an interconnected caring community.

When young, I was struck by the knowledge of human aloneness - how we live within our own consciousness and how even surrounded by those who care for us, there is a way in which we die alone. And it is true that there are times when we are really alone and it can be a hard experience. Sometimes we do not have the love and support we need to nurture our beings. When I was young, this knowledge made me feel afraid. But today, I am conscious of Arnita's experience of giving and receiving love within our church and within a larger network of family and friends. And today I am awed by the way our community came together and created an affirmation of her life for the larger community and ourselves. I am more deeply aware of how companionship and community strengthen us to face life's difficulties. And at the same time I am also aware of the solitary walks I am going to take while on vacation, the walks that open me up to greater creativity.

I and perhaps you, also, need the blessings of both solitariness and communion with others. While being alone and together sometimes seem to be opposites, I think they are two sides of reality that feed each other. And after all, even in the solitariness of a walk, I am companioned on all sides by water, sky, earth, and all the beings that inhabit the planet with you and me.

Today I look forward to those experiences within nature that are often solitary yet which feed my spirit and I anticipate also the joy of companionship with my sister, in whose basement I now sit, with other family members and friends, and with you, when I return from vacation. And at some point (while by myself or with others I do not know) I will take a small container and fill it with water from ocean, lake or stream, in preparation for our ingathering celebration of our community, our Water Ceremony on September 8th.

As the summer continues and then wanes, may we all be gifted with the blessings of both being alone and being together.

With love, in faith,

Nina