I would like to offer some thoughts regarding the role of art* in the conversation about caring for the common good of Goshen—and beyond—and “continuing the conversation.”
As one who works as spiritual director and an artist, I have spent considerable time reflecting on the polarities that make a whole: the inner and the outer … the being and the doing … the contemplative centering and the moving forward with action.
Several years ago I was at a peace conference at Earlham College. It’s a Quaker college, so it’s known for its practices of quiet reflection. I was struck by the emphasis on activists’ need to take time for contemplation, as well as creating art as a restorative and centering practice. It was pointed out that doing all activism could lead to a person being angry and burned out (sometimes due to not getting the “result” one wanted)—if one is not balanced by the renewing/regenerative and creative energies being cultivated.
My spiritual director, a Catholic sister, continues to emphasize that it’s healthier when actions arise from a contemplative life. Quieting down and becoming centered give space for emerging clarity about what subsequent actions might be in harmony with our inner guidance and readiness.
I recently became aware of a 2015 article in The Nation by Toni Morrison. The novelist and professor said she was feeling despondent and virtually unable to write in late 2004, still upset by the re-election of George W. Bush. An artist friend called to wish her happy holidays, and she started to tell him how she was feeling. He practically interrupted her, saying, “‘No! … This is precisely the time when artists go to work—not when everything is fine, but in times of dread. That’s our job!’ I felt foolish the rest of the morning, especially when I recalled the artists who had done their work in gulags, prison cells, hospital beds; who did their work while hounded, exiled, reviled, pilloried. And those who were executed.”
Morrison goes on to say: “There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, … no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.” She concludes: “Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge—even wisdom. Like art.”
Especially in times of crisis I’m aware that there’s a tendency to want to do something—almost anything—to deal with the problem. I’m suggesting, though, that people quiet down and engage in a variety of creative activities to support one another and to offer ways of moving forward out of the strength of centeredness and clarity. I’m ready to explore this with others.
* I’m defining art quite broadly. Art can be painting, drawing, cartooning, writing (poetry and prose), music, photography, video, etc.
Thank you so much, Vera, for sharing these reflections. From my vantage point (based on conversations with many other individuals) this is likely to resonate with other artists seeking to express themselves in ways meaningful to themselves and to the community. I hope we can help provide space at the Salon for artists to converge and from which restorative art (or at least the seed of it) might emerge.
I’m hosting a contemplative gathering at 11am at Pathways Retreat on Friday, Jan 20, in advance of the community gathering at the courthouse at 12. All are welcome at both. Please contact me at evanjmiller (at) frontier (dot) com if you plan to attend.
Contemplation. And action.