In much of my life, I’m the one offering spiritual companionship, or guidance, or facilitating a small group. Yet in another very important part of my life, I’m the one sitting in the other chair, the one looking for companionship, for witnessing, maybe even for a divine word or two. I thought it might be interesting to reflect on what it’s like to visit a spiritual companion and on what has happened over the last 8 years or so.
In the early part of my adult life, my Catholic Christian faith was deeply meaningful to me. While I’ve never been a stereotypical conservative church member (is anyone?), I’d studied and taught theology, and regularly participated in the sacraments and in church activities. But something happened as I learned more about the evils in the world, and learned more about how even “good” churches have participated in causing such suffering throughout history, not just in the past but here, now, too. Many of us have stories to tell of innocence lost, and the pain resulting. At the same time, any feeling I had of a loving presence of God vanished. It was a double loss. I felt at the edge of despair: the grief of losing my most loving partner combined with such empathy for how many people everywhere are suffering because of injustice and cruelty. I hoped that evil wasn’t the law of the land, but didn’t see a lot of evidence otherwise. Meanwhile, daily life was busy with work, mothering, living with chronic illness.
In the midst of this, though, I don’t think there was a day when I didn’t pray. I just never heard any kind of answer. Too much of the time this prayer was addressed “to whom it may concern” or “hey, anybody listening?”, yet I knew enough about psychology to know that putting into words my concerns and devoting some time to reflection and to silence was a pretty healthy way to deal with impending despair. I figured that even if at the worst I was wasting my time, spending 20 to 30 minutes a day in meditation was a time honored method, among the world’s wisdom traditions, to, well, attain some wisdom. I kept with it, for more than 20 years. I felt very alone, spiritually speaking. I found a Centering Prayer group which worked well for me in that we sat in silence and I didn’t have to deal with lots of “godtalk” that would only intensify my feelings of abandonment by God/Good. I’d go on retreats occasionally, though I felt exiled from the comaraderie of religious participation. One was at the Martha Retreat Center in Lethbridge, and filled with a particular poignant despair and exile, I talked with the woman leading the retreat, a spiritual director. Though I wasn’t sure she understood what I was talking about, there was a witnessing and acceptance that was deeply compassionate — among the best kinds of things that humans can do for each other.
I’ve continued to see her in the 8 years since then, in the beginning more off than on, but regularly enough to not have to reintroduce myself each time. We meet in her home, in a room now designated for meeting with her directees. What we talk about is different each time, but it’s always about my spiritual life — or seeming lack of a traditional one. In the early years, I felt listened to in my struggles with theodicy —- the whole “if there’s a good God, how come there’s so much suffering and evil?” question. She listened to my wailings about the sufferings I knew about and the empathy I had for those I didn’t know about. She affirmed the goodness of meditation and Centering Prayer, and occasionally suggested a good book. We discussed meaningful movies I’d seen, along with some of the reading I was doing. She listened.
After awhile, I began an online painting course, first a few short ones, then a year long course dedicated to teaching the intentional creativity I was learning. I had already started what I called a Story Circle in my own home, a monthly gathering of a handful of women where I asked deep and real questions which we answered first in writing and then shared our answers aloud. In that group, we went through many life challenges: marriage crises, wife assault, faith crises, infidelity, difficult life choices, cancer and other illnesses, the sudden death of a spouse, and a not so sudden death from cancer of one of our members. I would compose the questions to be helpful reflections on what we were going through, always seeking the loving and compassionate responses the situations were asking of us.
Through all this, my spiritual director would point out to me the deep content and the spiritual archetypes I was painting, and the deep and real questions in the poetry I wrote to go along with the paintings I’d bring in to show her. She was one of the few people to “get” the depths that I wanted to express in the painting and poetry. She was the one to acknowledge that though I rarely used the word “God”, what I was doing with my Story Circle was indeed group spiritual direction, calling upon all my training and experience in life. And, often best of all, she’d always choose a poem to share with me at the end of each session, something I could bring home and reflect upon as life continued its adventure within me.
Now, years later, I see her more regularly, about every month, as my anguish about the suffering in the world has eased and the despair lifted. I remember those times with compassion, though, because I was met with a listening heart and deep compassion. There’s a phrase, ‘listening into speech’ that is appropriate here. There were no expectations from her that my spirituality or my practice should look a particular way, and she has helped listen into speech my own language of the Sacred, my own understandings of the search for the Beloved that is also the spiritual life.
Spiritual companioning is like nothing else: it’s not therapy, and it’s not efficiency coaching. It’s not exactly mentoring, though some spiritual companions are also mentors or offer guidance. What it is is affirmation of the aspects of life beyond efficiency, getting the job done, or successfully adapting to the wounds of childhood in our adult busy-ness. It’s the affirmation of the world of the numinous, of deep questions, of wonder, and of deep love. It is listening, witness, and compassion. What better description of prayer together is there than listening compassion and witness to our unique expressions of spirit? — together, open to the divine Mystery we call God.
–Cat Charissage