The Unexpected Beauty of Staying in Place
Four years ago, right around my 40th birthday, I signed up with Rites of Passage to spend three days in the desert alone, fasting. I know how to party.
On the first day, I created a circle of stones, roughly 30 feet in diameter, dragged my tarp inside the circle and set up camp.
‘Camp’ may be overstating it. I had the tarp, a journal, three gallons of water, and a sleeping bag.
For my first few hours in that circle, I kept myself busy by Doing Things.
The tarp had to be just so.
The water bottles lined up exactly equidistant from each other.
My pen flew across journal pages as I tried to record every thought that flitted through my brain.
Eventually, I ran out of things to Do. And I sat.
Slowly, the small circle that would define my world for the next three days came alive.
Insects buzzing around me created a humming soundscape.
My gaze found a line of ants going back and forth to their subterranean home carrying small gifts.
The smell of creosote and sage drifted on a gentle breeze.
An entire universe unfolded around me.
By the end of the three days, I had developed a relationship with the beings and Spirit of this place. The plants and I had weathered a hail storm together. The ants warned me that the storm was coming by taking shelter themselves. A prairie dog and I had played hide and seek, peeking at each other from our respective shelters.
At a deeper level, this small corner in a small corner of the desert taught me about the interdependence and relationship between places, the beings in those places, and the wider universe. The relationship, I learned, didn’t exist at a rational level. I experienced it as a felt sense, an awareness of a resonant field within which different consciousnesses interacted with each other in every moment in a constant conversation.
When it came time to leave, I spent at least 30 minutes (or it could have been a full day; time gets a bit squiggly in these types of settings) thanking the Land and my fellow beings for hosting me and keeping me safe. I left offerings for the plants, trees, and creatures. I even sang; something that I never do.
The cacti seemed to appreciate it.
I thought about my time in the desert yesterday as I sat in a patch of sunlight in my living room. Remembering those first moments in the circle of stones, I allowed my busy mind to relax and my breathing to slow. ‘How much,’ I wondered, ‘Is there to discover in this small space that I’ve never given myself the chance to recognize?’
In short order, details revealed themselves. Dust motes caught in the sunbeam. The grain of the hardwood. Subtle variations in color and texture.
The more I paid attention, the more alive the room became. Memories surfaced, objects (a stone, a book, a candle) took on added depth and meaning. For the first time, I felt a sense of connection with the Spirit of this place.
As that connection arose, my body relaxed.
I’d been spending so much time figuring Things out with my mind and interacting with others in Virtual Space, that I had lost touch with the importance and power of Place. Until I reconnected with that, I didn’t even realize that it had been missing.
Since many of us will be spending more-than-usual amounts of time in Place for the foreseeable future, I wonder if there’s an invitation to listen more deeply to our surroundings and see what arises. Here’s an exercise that may help:
- Pick a space in your home or apartment and enter it consciously, with the intention of inviting connection.
- Enter the space and sit. Breathe deeply. Perhaps close your eyes.
- Allow yourself to interact with this Space through your senses: what you hear? What can you touch? See? Smell? Taste?
- Slowly allow all of these concrete senses to soften into a felt sense of this space. It may feel like you’re ‘just’ making things up at this point. That’s fine; make believe is a fun game :)
- As you tune in to this Space, softening in to and around it, perhaps ask it a question: ‘What message do you have for me?’ or ‘What can I do to honor or show thanks for you?’
- Thank the space. And if it asked for something from you. . .probably not a bad idea to honor the request.
Enjoy! And may we all remember the unexpected beauty of staying in Place during these uncertain and disorienting times.
