21st Century Fun

Cultivating Spiritual Resilience

A cartoon

A thought

Argh! Living now is sometimes head-popping, is it not!?! I have mostly stepped out of partaking in the news, but things still filter through in the long-form reading I do.

How to manage all this seems the work of our times - without falling into apathy, rage, despair or hopelessness.

I’ve been reflecting on this this week, prompted by

Sarah Wilson

(who is currently serialising her book on collapse here on Substack¹). Sarah asked her community for their take on what we do now, given the radical reality of the times we are living in.

My answer includes:

Art – to help us connect and sense make together.

Play – to remind us of our mammalian selves, to be in joy, to remember we are part of the natural world and not to take ourselves too seriously.

Religion – a coming together over something bigger than ourselves – religion sounds narrow, I mean this in the biggest sense – when the structures we have relied upon for providing our purpose have failed - we need new ones.

Food – glorious, real, whole food, grown, cooked and consumed together.

Festivals – My ancestors knew about ritual, participation and joy for cementing communities, we need to rekindle those interconnections.

Time in nature – to reawaken our kinship with the more than human world.

Slow – time for introspection and reflection, “The times are urgent we must slow down” (Bayo Akomolafe).

Love – allowing time for, prioritising and treasuring our connections with each other.

Rest – to allow us to fill our own cup in order to continue to return to the action.

Radical Care - for ourselves, each other and our more than human kin.

I’m sure I could add 100 other things, but I think the gist is to turn to everything that makes us human – the best versions of ourselves. Once in this place, it is easier to make right decisions and select right actions to carry us forward.

I was surprised to find that religion popped onto my list—although I loosely had an Anglican childhood, organised religion has not played a big part in my life. Yet there is a God-shaped hole in me that yearns. (Please insert universe, spirit, guide—something here that feels comfortable to you.)

I love reading

Suzanne Crawford O'Brien

here on Substack. She writes about climate anxiety and spiritual resilience. In reading her post this week I discovered spiritual resilience is what I have been searching for these past few years, a resilience to carry me/us through the shit-storm. I just didn’t have a name for the myriad of things I am experimenting with, trying to work out what is effective and useful for me.

Suzanne is a religious studies professor at the Pacific Lutheran University, where she focuses on Indigenous traditions. She is generously sharing her current class, “Climate Anxiety and Spiritual Resilience:” online via her Substack. A course designed to help us with the process and practice of this work - cultivating a spiritually resilient orientation to the world.

I am all in!

In week one, she defines some terms. I love her discussion around the definition of “religion” - that at their core, all religions are story systems. She says all religions centre sacred stories, and those stories can help us understand who we are and how we are meant to be. She says, “For this class in particular, that definition feels very important–because the stories we tell about climate change and who we are in relation to each other and to the natural world are going to be hugely determinative of the world we build.”

There is so much juicy insight just in week one, I encourage you to go and check out her Substack and join the journey if you are intrigued. This bit, for instance:

“I often see spirituality defined in ways that emphasize individual, cerebral thinking or belief. Consider for instance the definition used in a Connected Leadership course taught by Peter Boyd, a lecturer at Yale’s School of the Environment: “Having coherent beliefs about the higher purpose and meaning of the universe; knowing where one fits within the larger scheme.”

But definitions like that don’t mesh with the traditions I teach about–traditions that are often more about the collective than the individual, more about getting your relationships right then getting your theology right.

I prefer Diné/Cheyenne scholar Lyla June Johnson’s definition of spirituality as engagement with the “animating energy of creation.””

You can find week one of Suzanne’s course here:

Lessons in Climate Resilience: Week One!

Glimmers and sparks*

My glimmers for today are:

• Unglimmer - discovering that all the stores are hitting us with a double whammy of Halloween and Christmas junk in the last week of September !!??!! Which then fortunately resulted in the glimmer of being able to buy Panettone - the one permissible Christmas product that I will grant should be sold in September, and June and April!

• The ridiculous silliness of The Inspired Unemployed (Impractical) Jokers. Sometimes silliness is just called for - thanks to my girls for putting these guys on my radar. This prank is my favourite! I also get a warm fuzzy feeling at the generosity with which most of their pranks are met by the unsuspecting people they rope in.

• A quiet day off with the start of school holidays.

Li’l bean is your reminder to pause and ask: What are your glimmers for today?

From your friend and your small, steadfast companion,

*Drawing Li’l Bean helped me navigate out of a period of depression in 2023. A good friend 13, 595km away, helped, too, through a ritual of swapping daily glimmers via text.

A glimmer is a tiny spark of hope, enthusiasm or joy that lifts your heart. By helping me find three glimmers each day, she gently helped me see the joy and beauty already around me.

I’d like to share this practice with you and invite you to reflect on your glimmers for the day when you read this. Think of Li’l Bean as a reminder to notice the glimmers and sparks in your life. We’d love it if you would like to share your glimmers in the comments or by hitting reply (if you don’t like sharing publicly).

1. Writing notes: 10 chapters in I want to (re)group, (re)focus