The vision quest

I was supposed to go on a vision quest this past week, but life got in the way. It was supposed to be a conditional offering for my family—to support them, embrace them, love them. My daughter is getting married, so I wanted to create a spiritual foundation for her and my new son to stand on as they start their life together. She’s also graduating from college and trying to find a “real” world job, so life is pretty stressful for her right now.

I wanted to surround Mom with love too as she moves to a new state, and starts a new home without Dad, who passed away. My brothers and sisters could use a little support from their big sister as well. One brother broke up with his girlfriend; another just got married, while a third lost his job and his apartment at the same time. My sister is trying to have a baby with no success; one nephew is also getting married, and another is working on finding himself and understanding his unique gifts.

Hmm, if this is just my family, maybe I need to do some heavy duty praying for the rest of the world as well. Just look at the headlines: war in Iraq, cyclone in Myanmar, China and Tibet, the Middle East, volcano in Chile, melting icebergs—the list goes on. It’s so easy to get overwhelmed these days. That’s one reason I decided to stay home—my family was overwhelmed and needed me to stick around.

Sometimes it’s easier to leave and not deal with the immediate situation, which often takes more time and patience. I was going to go to the small piece of land that Mom kept in the Catskill Mountains and lay the stone foundation for a small cabin some of us were thinking of building. I wouldn’t have to speak to anyone, deal with anyone’s problems, or cook dinner. I could meditate and work, placing each rock with care and concern for each one of my family members.

That was what I had envisioned. Now I’d have to find something else to do instead that I felt would have the same intention. The answer came quickly. I had brought some stones from our land in the Catskills and placed them haphazardly in the corner of our yard, added a few flowers and created a quick rock garden. It was in desperate need of a redesign and some care and concern. One stone for each family member, placed lovingly, and surrounded with flowers, took two days of lugging, digging, planting and watering.

But that wasn’t enough. Something else was needed—something more fundamental and difficult to accomplish. Two or three years ago we had an external pipe burst in our front yard. To replace it the water company had to dig up the brick walk on the side of the house. The bricks have remained neatly stacked against the wall since then, while the ground has grown over with grass. I needed to replace those bricks, and recreate the walk.

By the third night I couldn’t sleep, my body ached so much. Our earth is not rich, dark and loamy. It is red clay, almost as hard as the bricks themselves. I couldn’t even get the pitchfork to sink more than an inch into the ground with me jumping up and down on it. Some of the bricks were broken and of varying sizes and shapes. Some were mortared together, and some had six inches of concrete and gravel still attached to them. It wasn’t just a puzzle to fit the pieces together, it was more like a Frankenstein monster that I was determined to make beautiful.

On the sixth day I had eight more bricks to lay, then four. My neighbor, and sister-of-my-heart, called over the fence, “Are you almost done?” Considering I had started four hours earlier, I distractedly responded in the affirmative. But as was the case for the past few days, most bricks I had already laid had to be re-placed in order to fit the subsequent ones together.

In the midst of my struggles, and determination to finish on this day, I didn’t hear Doris coming into the yard. She was carrying a tray with three glasses and a bottle of sparkling cider. Her husband followed her in with three chairs. I hadn’t noticed that they were following my progress from day to day, or that they even cared. But here they were, ready to celebrate my victory and cheer for my success!

My quest to support, love and embrace my family had come right back to me. As I sat sipping sparkling cider with Doris, Winston went down on his hands and knees to fit in those last few bricks. Isn’t that amazing? That never could have happened in the woods alone. Family and community are so important in building a culture of wisdom and love. And what better foundation is there than being surrounded by those who are willing to build it together with you?