Soul Simplicity
It is always interesting to sort of hover above ourselves and observe the decisions we are making. I am having that experience right now. There is a subtle difference between making undisguised choices and making choices that reveal the motivation later. I am having the latter experience lately.
I do know the source of this. It is the difference between having a plan and making the choices one needs to get there and intuitively sensing a direction and making choices, almost on the fly. A little bit like following a trail with numerous forks, but no clear directional markers. “I think this is the right direction,” we say to ourselves as we commit to the first steps of the trail that goes to the right not knowing if we will find ourselves doubling back a couple miles later.
I have titled this blog “Soul Simplicity.” Those words capture the general theme and spirit of the choices I am making right now. I am currently in a short 4-hour transition between the 5-day Songwriter’s Soiree near St. Helena, Oregon and providing the program for the one-week Seabeck Christian Family Camp later today up in Puget Sound.
Both of those experiences reveal this attraction to find my purest voice, a reflection of my soul in its most naked and revealed form. For years I have felt that I have songs in me. I noticed over two decades ago when I was asked to write a “Statement of Faith” (a normal part of maintaining my ordination status) that I shifted from prose to poetry. Quite honestly, I just got tired of so many words. The more words I put on the page the more it seemed to diminish the power of what I wanted to convey.
Songwriting is hard—at least for me, that is. But there is nothing like coming upon a deep personal truth and then capturing that in a chorus of maybe four lines of seven syllables. A chorus is often haiku-like. While the verses may paint a picture, the chorus often brings the song home in a way that startles, reveals, releases or confirms something deep or simply recognizable in the hearer.
I am a complete neophyte when it comes to songwriting. But what I do know is that the practice and art of it is guiding me to the simplicity and profundity of what my soul desires.
Later today I will arrive at the Seabeck Conference Center in Washington where I will present a program over six days titled, “Life as Pilgrimage.” While the presentations represent the other side of the “wordy” continuum from songwriting, the theme is at the very heart of what I am about and what I feel called to do. Over the last seventeen years I have been leading churches, small groups, regional bodies, and individuals using the “pilgrimage model.”
Essentially, all this means is that I believe we are living in an historic period where long-range planning is often ineffective, as long-range planning requires a certain level of trust in the stability of the people and institutions that the plan relies on. Stability is not the first word I would use for the current state of the world, our society and our institutions. Uncertainty is a more honest assessment about how we feel about the future.
Dealing with and assuming uncertainty is a basic building block of the pilgrimage experience. Pilgrims on a pilgrimage route wake up every morning and assess:
“How is my body feeling today?”
“What is the weather expected to be like over the pass?”
“Can we count on food and water a few miles down the road or do we need to pack everything we need for the day?”
“Is everyone up for the trek today or will accommodations need to be made?”
“What will we do if there is no available lodging at day’s end?”
I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I am observing that just about every decision I am making has to do with simplifying my life so I can focus almost exclusively on what my soul most craves:
My son right now is preparing my house for short-term rentals so that I will be free follow the breadcrumbs of this work and have my housing expenses covered.
I am offering myself as a consultant to churches in the Pacific Northwest November-April, but only to churches positioned well for addressing organizational grief related to decades-long decline or transformational new opportunities.
Most every day I get about eight miles of hiking in or the equivalent as I prepare my body to cycle the 4,900-mile Lewis and Clark Trail next summer and invite our culture to wrestle with the mixed narrative of colonization.
On Day Two of the Seabeck camp experience I will be speaking about the Practice of Intention with regard to “Life as a Pilgrimage.”
If you are looking for a plan from me, I have to be honest—I don’t have one. But I do have an intention. And that is good enough for today and probably even tomorrow and likely even through next week.
After that I don’t know. But what I do know is that whatever next choice shows up, I will honor the simplicity of the soul and make decisions accordingly.
It’s as simple as that.
Brian Heron
Cultural Innovator and Spiritual Pilgrim