Lunaea Weatherstone's Blogue

Comfort and Joy

When I was in my late thirties, I knew and admired a woman who was about 15 years older than I. She was a bit of a mystery to me because, unlike all my other women friends, she wasn't married or involved in a romantic relationship. Nor did she seem to want one, which was even more mysterious. She had her work, her art, her friends and extended family, her solitude, her spirituality, her serenity. But even with all this, part of me worried about her a bit, because she didn't have a partner. From my own vantage point of being in love and intensely connected to one other person, I couldn't imagine that she would be truly content in that single state. Now I'm about the same age as she was then and no longer in an intimate relationship, nor do I want one. But does that mean I am truly content? Choices almost always bring some kind of sacrifice or compromise, and the choice to give up partnership brings with it some loneliness, especially around holidays. The media keeps hammering away with the message that the winter holidays are about family, family, family. The expectation is that, if anything, you will be overloaded with social obligations and an excess of company. And though I know I'm not the only person in the world who doesn't have these things, it can sometimes feel that way! All of my friends are married, many with children and grandchildren, and their holiday season revolves around these connections. From that vantage point, it must seem that those who are alone at Yuletide have a very cold, dark time indeed.

Spiritual Comfort Food

My Silver Grove sister-priestesses have been discussing the idea of “spiritual comfort food” — things that bring you back to a warm and strengthening place deep in your soul. For me, there are certain “security books,” my version of the security blanket, where I always find spiritual nourishment and a sense of coming home to myself: In This House of Brede, by Rumer Godden, A Circle of Quiet or almost anything else by Madeleine L’Engle, Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom, by Louisa May Alcott. One thing these books all share is the idea of searching for your own true path, whatever that might be, and having the courage (and loving support) to pursue it. That’s a core spirit-virtue for me, and re-reading familiar words about it sets me back in perspective when I need reassurance.

More spiritual comfort food comes in the form of music, such as Touts Les Matins du Monde, by Jordi Savall, which I must have listened to about 10,000 times. The sound of the viola de gamba is perfect for evening, wrapping up the day in soothing and comforting peacefulness. Any documentary that shows people living their bliss feeds my spirit, such as the wonderful Craft in America series that was recently on PBS. Or the smell of sun-warmed redwood forest, the sound of sea lions barking, the sight of my cats piled together for a furry nap, the exquisite artistry of flowers.....

My sister-priestesses also mentioned such things as spending time in the company of trees, opening to inner guidance in moments of silent solitude, gardening and the richness of fertile earth, singing, the scents of basil and copal and rosemary and lemon balm, bawdy old women’s blues music, a loved one’s laughter, and of course, the sea, Mother of us all.

What are your spiritual comfort foods?