One of my favourite non-fiction books is Living into Focus by Arthur Boers. I love lots of things about the book, but specifically the emphasis he places on finding, what Albert Borgmann calls, "focal practices -- activities that center, balance, focus, and orient one's life" (10). This is far more than finding things we enjoy, or finding hobbies, or even finding activities that help us to grow. These are the practices that bring all things into alignment, that pull us into a centered space where it is possible to truly live, where the ordinary becomes sacred. At least that's how they feel to me.
There is the potential in the next few weeks that my life (and Alicia's!) will change quite drastically. There is the potential of a ministry placement and a new home in a different province (and, some have pointed out, a new blog title!). All of this will mean a whole lot of change in a very short period of time, and I'm expecting it will mean at least a year of transition and adjustment. Change is disorienting and if focal practices are important in our everyday busy lives, they become even more important in the midst of change. When I'm feeling disoriented, I know I need to hang onto all those focal practices that continually re-orient.
Some practices that orient me are quite obviously designed for that purpose. I try, most days at least, to spend some time engaged in a particular spiritual practice. I've found over the past decade that the spiritual practices that nourish me tend to come in seasons and so I move from one to another as necessary. At least I do now. It took awhile to get over feelings of guilt that I couldn't maintain practices! I've found that forcing myself to engage in a particular practice (without listening to what my spirit needs) is very different than being disciplined and so I try to practice awareness in discerning what is life-giving in a particular season.
And while I know prayer or particular spiritual practices are necessary for my orientation, there are other focal practices that are, for me, at least as central to my well-being.
Many people who know me well, or perhaps not even that well, would probably identify baking bread as a focal practice for me. Kneading dough is incredibly orienting. There's just something about the process, the tactile sensations, the smells, that center me in a particular way. At first I thought it was just about kneading bread dough and being
connected to my heritage, but as I've worked more in the kitchen I'm
starting to realize that this focal practice has more to do with
starting out with individual ingredients, and especially those that initially don't seem capable of forming anything at all cohesive, and working with them until they become something that initially seemed impossible. Making BBQ sauce, yogurt, pulled pork, and hearty soups have the same orienting affect. There is nothing like seeing mushy flour, water and yeast become golden freckled buns, or a raw hunk of meat with a bit of liquid turn into savoury pulled pork with crispy caramelized bits around the edges. It's like magic!
Which brings me to another focal practice that I have engaged in almost every day of my life...reading fiction. People used to tell me that some day I would grow up and it wouldn't be possible for me to read fiction every day. Hah! Not true. And not even healthy, at least not for me. There have been a few times in my life when I placed fiction on the back burner and tried to read more "edifying" material, and the results were, quite honestly, disastrous. I adore magic, adventure and mystery. It feeds my soul and my imagination. It makes it possible for me to think and dream in colour. It is crucial to my own emotional health, and to my ministry. And nothing, nothing at all, orients me more quickly than picking up a book that is an old friend and diving into the story all over again. Each time I move, my books are some of the last boxes packed and the first to be opened.
These are just a few of the focal practices that I have identified as most grounding in my own life and perhaps as I journey they will evolve and more will be added. But for now, I know that if/when we move that I will do so with Harry Potter in one hand and my mixing bowl in the other, holding tight to what orients me, to what gives me life.
What are your focal practices? What orients you in the midst of disorientation?
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