It’s very difficult to grow hope in depleted soil. Exhaustion, overwhelm, and the anxiety that comes from feeling spread too thin almost always obliterate hope from our emotional screens. That’s why it’s so important to find ways to renew and restore our inner resources. We need to give ourselves permission to find personal and community oases—those places and activities that provide refuge and sanctuary from feelings of overwhelm, and allow us to rest and regroup. Oases not only help revive our energy, they can also be havens of fun, intimacy, and meaning. When rested and restored, we can give hope roots in the deep soils of inner security, rather than in the sandy and shallow soils of external circumstances.
David, a minister I spoke with, said that his spiritual thirst for meaning—especially when he is downhearted and questioning God— is best quenched through activism of almost any kind. He serves meals to the homeless, gathers food and goods for those in need, and counsels people struggling with difficulties. David’s oasis is outward service augmented by inner prayer.
My primary oasis is different. Yours may also be. For me, an oasis is usually time alone—although the company of my dog is okay—and quiet. My beautiful mother used to tell my angst-filled teenage self, “It’s time for you to stew in your own juice, Sue.” You, too, may need to back away from giving for a while and do something for yourself, something that makes your heart sing. In fact, singing is an oasis for Marion, one of my clients. Although an agnostic in theory, she gains much joy and meaning from singing sacred music with a large choir. She absolutely radiates euphoria after concerts. “It’s what keeps me grounded and sane,” Marion exclaims.
When our grandsons were little, my husband, Gene, and I created mini-oases when one of the boys came to visit. Although entertaining kids is often neither quiet nor serene, their innocence and authenticity brought ballast to our lives and filled our hearts to overflowing.
Extroverts may find a crowded sports bar very relaxing and rejuvenating, while an introvert’s idea of heaven may be doing yoga or sitting in silence hand-stitching a quilt or knitting an afghan. Some of us calm ourselves through a combination of out-there and in-there activities. It doesn’t matter what kind of oasis you choose, as long as it brings you the balance and ballast for which you are yearning at the time.
Probably the most reliable oasis we can find is as close as our own heartbeat. I’m talking about the value of simply turning your attention to your heart. You may be skeptical. I certainly was, years ago, when I first learned to create a heart oasis. The first time I purposely put my hands over my heart in order to invite a calm oasis, I thanked my heart for serving me so faithfully and then simply continued to rest for a few moments in awareness of my heart.
Much to my surprise, tears begin to slide gently down my cheeks. I recognized them as cleansing tears of peace and gratitude rather than sadness or unresolved pain. There are no shoulds or have-tos connected to seeking the sanctuary of our heart oasis. Simply turning your attention to your heart, in whatever ways feel right to you, consciously courts hope and its cousins, relaxation and calmness.
Hope is a matter of heart.
Excerpted from How to Stay Upbeat in a Beat Down World by Sue Patton Thoele. Available on Amazon.
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