Taking in a last paddle up north before closing up for winter.
(All photos by A. Furchert 2023)
“Whatever is before us, we must insist on joy wherever and whenever we can find it, must honor creaturely release and comfort and delights, for these are our human birthright of fuel for persisting, for orienting insistently towards what is life-giving, within every righteous struggle that is ours to face.”
— Krista Tippett
Dear friends and fellow travelers,
“What meaningful can I still do?” a client desperately asked me several weeks ago when the first images of terror unfolding in the Middle East flooded our screens and hearts. What meaningful can I still do when the world seems to barrel towards annihilation?
“We must insist on joy…” Krista Tippet wrote in her latest letter. And I am grateful for these words as they offer me a life line to hang on to. Also I had wondered for too long what there is to offer to our readers. Can I still invite you to ponder the season’s unfolding, shall we, must we even?
In these last weeks I have found myself cradling our four year old tighter and longer, tasting every moment deeper and further. Life is vulnerable.
And still, we must live and we must breathe despite a bleeding world. We must live for the lifeless, breathe for the breathless, hope for the hopeless, call out for the voiceless. We must insist to embrace our life to the fullest in every moment. This, my friends, is not neglect, nor is it avoidance. It is instead needed for the survival of humankind.
And while the last leaves tumble to the ground in-front of my window, I offer my humble fragments today for all in need for some medicine against despair.
As always, you can ponder the text or meditate on the images or do both. You can also read each section throughout the week to mull about it. As always you will find a prayerful blessing at the end, this time chosen and introduced by Chuck.
Do join us in this prayer for this war torn world!
Sending you much love, Almut with Chuck and little one
—Almut Furchert, PhD
Hoping against despair #1:
Seeing without being consumed
Watching water swirl.
Autumn invites us to become part of creation in transformation.
Coming and going, blooming and fading, filling and emptying.
One of the first things professional helpers must learn is to not be consumed by the suffering of the one they help. We live in a world where we are every day confronted by bad news. Children are being traumatized just by the images they see on the news. Psychologists even have a name for it: secondary traumatization. It is a known phenomenon. We see these cruel images of inhumanity so often that we risk to fall into survivor mode ourselves, to become numb to all pain. Our capacity to take in suffering is limited. Too much of it will numb us. Our emotional self shuts down in order to protect its resources.
At the same time, we might feel some “survivor’s guilt” creeping in: How can we be merry, even joyful, in the face of this world’s tragedy?
But as every helper must learn to be present to but not overwhelmed by the pain we tend to we must also learn how to protect our hearts from overload.
Tending to our hearts first is not selfishness. It is rather the antidote to falling into numbness or despair. We must never grow numb to the fact that throwing grenades into family shelters or bombs on family homes cannot be an accepted solution in the 21 century. We must demand change and wisdom from the leaders of this world and hold them accountable.
But in order to find our part in this task, we must keep our hearts alive. We cannot allow the megalomaniacs and war mongers of this world to terrorize also our hearts and to poison our daily living.
We must live despite a fallen world.
Beauty of the transient.
Hoping against despair #2:
Embracing the moment without losing perspective
Two things have helped me in these last weeks: Embracing the season and watching my child play. Her innocent and playful approach jumping into Autumn leaves and water puddles has come to my rescue again and again.
This “first immediacy” of a child, as Kierkegaard has it (Tillich would later call it “dreaming innocence”) is what we adults have lost, must lose in order to reflect and become conscious of ourselves. But in order to deepen ourselves the task of our adult life is now to regain some of this child like immediacy. It is not exactly what today’s mantra of “living in the moment” means, it is more like “being alive to the moment,” being present to the present moment.
In a world where bad news is delivered not only to our doorsteps but even into our bedrooms via our devices, we must regain the ability to simply be present to life’s unfolding in front of and within us (and I have to admit, I am often not very good at it!). Thus we must remind ourselves:
There is beauty despite our sorrows. Leaves rattling under our feet during a long Fall walk, warm blankets welcoming us back inside, heat coming from a crackling fire, even dust bunnies dancing in the waning rays of the sun. The feelings of bliss and the burden of daily life intermingle.
Watching-my-child-throwing-pebbles into the Mississippi. Have you tried throwing pebbles lately?
I call it WMCTP: Watching my child throwing pebbles :-) Is there a more innocent act to witness than childlike immersion in action? And while I watch my child enjoying each step of her pebble throwing – finding the stone, testing it in her little hands, getting to the waters edge, taking a deep breath, bending deep and then, just push what ever, and then jump in celebration when the stone ripples the water – it breaks my heart open.
As I see my child playing in the Autumn sun without the burden of the world on her shoulders yet I not only see her, but I see all children in her. I see her throwing her pebbles for Hamin, who just got buried under rubble with his 3 little siblings, and for Amina, who longs for a drop of fresh water in her burned out living room. My daughter’s innocent play holds the whole universe. And I must bend my knees and confess my sins. How little do I see of what she has to teach me, of what every child has to teach us.
“Anthropological contemplation,” as in contemplating “anthropos”, which means to contemplate our being human, is not only a philosophical practice. It is our existential task to become humane. It is, what helps us tap into our shared humanity that transcends political affiliation, ethnicity or gender. It reminds us that there is no difference between the children of Ukraine, Israel or Gaza, nor of Uvalde and else.
It can start with watching a child throwing pebbles or, dear one, even throwing those pebbles yourself! And rightly done, such contemplation will give you a center that will lead to action. The right action, at the right time, done for the right reason and in the right way.
Autumn still-life.
There is a certain melancholy within the waters when the nights get longer, the air crisper, and the trees empty themselves of their colors. Do you feel it, too?
Hoping against despair #3:
Taking heart
But wait, what did you tell your client,? you might ask.
Fortunately existential therapy is rather a quite tender dance. I do not give much advice nor do I have the answers. I am rather the listener who sits with you for a while trying to untangle what is coming up and where it leads us.
Usually it leads us not into the outside world but right into the working of your very own heart. Because the problem isn’t so much the problem as it shows itself in the external, but rather what it does with us in our innermost being. That means the problem is not to be sensitive and responsive to the troubles of a troubling world, but rather to become paralyzed, desperate or helpless over it in a way that keeps us from living the very life given to us.
Thus the work against despair does start inside, where we sit with our feelings of helplessness or despair and see how they are connected to our very own journey.
It leads us to the place where the Divine wants to dwell in us. But this is a story for another post – or a personal conversation.
For now, dear reader, take heart. Allow yourself to live and to breathe, to lament and to cry out, to dance and to sing for all of creation. Lean into the season of continual renewal. Look for the good. Expect the good. Demand the good.
Late bloomers.
Every night I roll our little red cart stuffed with late bloomers back into the garage just to roll it out the next morning. This little act of resistance gives me profound joy to prolong the season beyond the first freezing nights :-)
With much love, Almut
— Almut Furchert, Ph.D. is the woman behind CloisterSeminars. She trained as a psychological scientist, philosopher of religion, existential therapist and adult educator in Germany. She lives currently with her husband Chuck and little daughter in MN. If you would like to explore consulting with her or send her feedback, you can do so by responding to this email.
A Prayer for Palestine and Israel - and all hearts breaking
Dear one,
Prayer is also activism. It is an inner struggle, a dedication, and a calling of and to the eternal to be present in us. It is also an invitation to join our hearts in lament and hope.
So treat this prayer from the Mennonite Church in America as your inner action. Pray so that the prayer changes you. By doing so, you will change the world.
-Chuck
A Prayer for Palestine and Israel
O God of life and love and peace,
We witness the violence and injustice in your Holy Land
And our hearts break.
Our hearts break for the people of Israel—
For the victims of violent attacks by Hamas
For those who live with fear and insecurity
For those who suffer from the inter-generational trauma of violence.
Our hearts break for Palestinians—
For the victims of violent attacks by the Israeli military
For those being denied water, electricity and medical care
For those who are refugees, long displaced from their homes.
We especially pray—
That weapons of war be laid down
That walls of separation be dismantled
That prisoners be released
That demonizing of “the other” cease
That political leaders seek the good of all people in Palestine and Israel.
O God, whose heart breaks for the world,
May your justice dwell in the land
May your righteousness abide in fruitful fields
May the effect of righteousness be quietness and trust forever
May the effect of justice be peace—enduring peace.
Amen
Amen. May it be so. Amen.