Five years ago, in early November, I stepped into a home out in the boonies of Crozet, Virginia, after an incredibly bumpy ride on a dark road. Though it was dark outside, the home was warm and inviting. Stepping through the threshold into the living room, I noticed a piece of art painted on the walls of the home.
The art on the wall was a poem by Wendell Berry, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.” The homeowners were artists and farmers themselves, and were deeply inspired by Berry’s life. It would be years and a Twitter peruse that would bring me to read my first Berry novel, Hannah Coulter, and enter the world that is Port William.
Wendell Berry is indeed the definition of write what you know, as many of his main characters move according to their soul’s deep belief in what is true.
Related Post: an inner voice makes itself heard
I particularly adore Jayber Crow. I cried three times reading it, utterly moved by this barber’s vision of Christ and inhabiting the world even when it isn’t always so kind to our tender hearts.
Jayber moves to Port William after an unsteady childhood and finds himself a barber, having abandoned seminary. Jack Beechum chooses to let go of owning more farmland, paying a hefty price to sell, and chooses to live within his limits. Berry himself leaves his life teaching and writing in New York City and returns to Kentucky, the land of his ancestors and farms. All leave behind an expected path to follow their own convictions, to follow the way they believe is right in their souls.
We have to cultivate lives in which we refuse to abandon ourselves for the voices that surround us.
And these voices are everywhere. From well-meaning family. From old friends. From TV and social media and the news. There is a way that seems right. But there is also a voice within, deeper than the ordinary wants of our lives, a voice of conviction that you can only hear in the quiet.
We have to make space to listen to our souls.
This means getting away, even for an hour. Being alone. Going on a few hours of retreat. Fasting. Going on a hike. Getting away from the city. Finding a place away from the noise. We have to cultivate lives that make it easier to listen to our convictions.
It can start small, just honoring your body. Acknowledging when you’re tired and going to bed, rather than pushing yourself and staying up an hour later. It’s subtle, but once you begin to notice how your body speaks, you are more open to listening in other ways.
Parker Palmer has a small book that talks more about this called Let Your Life Speak. I picked it up at a thrift store years ago. Palmer compares the soul to a wild animal.
If we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye, we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek.
In order to connect with our inner conviction, I believe we need to be alone. Ideally, alone with God. But there is something to be said for walking away from an outing with friends or family, and acknowledging the way your convictions may be different. One person may feel called to live in a certain city and another may not. One person may advocate for a particular profession and another may feel more led to explore many different careers. When we spend time with others, we see the differences in our deeper desires.
We need time with God and time alone to get to know our own souls, to know what we feel called to say yes to and what are clear no’s. When we’re alone, there’s no one to perform for or conform to. We can be honest about the conviction we feel percolating in our souls.
Be wary of a life of going along with what others desire and slowly dulling that inner conviction until there is nothing left to hear. The more you take time to listen to that voice, the more you’ll recognize it and the more often it will speak. It whispers late at night when you’re no longer distracted or early in the morning when nothing else has your attention.
…
I found out on Twitter that Wendell Berry has died. It is fitting that it was Twitter, as that’s where I first encountered his work. My Twitter feed is filled with tributes to his work, his poetry, and just honoring the life he lived. He who listened to the inner voice of his soul, calling him back home to cultivate the earth and cherish his people.
A light has gone out of this world. May we follow Berry’s example, holding fast to our convictions and walking worthy in the manner of our calling.
Signing off,
Gigi
Studying Life with Gigi 