photo: Katya Lesher

While we live under constant threats of violence we must commit to creating spaces of refuge and repair.

– Desiree Adaway

We are living in end times, through a kind of apocalypse. You can feel the falling apart: the economy in a slow-motion collapse, institutions crumbling, the exploitation of Mother Earth, and the growing reality of extreme climate change.

Depending on the day you catch me, I may either be in extreme distress about this process, or finding my way toward some state of acceptance and equanimity.

I don’t believe this falling apart is necessarily a bad thing. But the consequences of it can be terribly hard, particularly for those folks who are already marginalized, and for the Earth herself. If we are at all awake to this, how can we not be in deep grief?

In Buddhism we often talk about ‘taking refuge.’ This has a special meaning in our tradition. It’s about placing our faith and energy in a simple truth: we are interconnected, all of us two-leggeds, four-leggeds, winged ones, crawling and slithering beings, plant people, stone people, the elements.

Because of that interdependence, whatever we can do to alleviate the suffering of another being will actually relieve our own suffering. In the same way, whatever we can do to plant the seeds of peace, justice, and happiness for others will actually increase our own sense of wellbeing.

(By the way, that’s my personal rendition of taking refuge; you may not find it worded like that in traditional Buddhist texts! In the Buddhist tradition, to take refuge refers to finding refuge in three things: the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha. My interpretation of those three taken as a whole is the teaching of interconnection. Some other time I’ll write about those three refuges, which are beautiful and complex in and of themselves.)

During these end times, creating and taking refuge becomes especially important.

We need to find some way to cope with this falling apart, a way that is more wholesome than the addictions and distractions we often turn to. (I’m not proud to report that my sugar intake has been through the roof lately!)

Recently I was traveling through the northeast U.S. and I took note of the ways that friends there are creating refuge:

• One offers a meditation group for his community on Sunday mornings – everyone is welcome, no prior experience necessary.
• Another has established an intimate residential Zen community in the mountains of northern Vermont – a place where people from all generations (including one tiny one!) as well as creatures can find refuge in practices of wisdom and compassion. (Check it out here.)
• Another friend, who I’ve known for more than 20 years, now has a family. Along with her husband and two teenage daughters, they too are creating a kind of refuge in a more informal way. They open up their home to young people whose families have less stability, serving up wholesome meals and yummy home baked cookies. In the process they are creating a safe space for these youth to explore how to respond to issues coming up in their schools and communities, such as gun violence.

Making and taking refuge takes many forms —

Physically: Creating altars and sacred spaces in our homes and on the land nearby us; feeding ourselves and others food which is truly nourishing.

Spiritually: Your contemplative practice is refuge during challenging times; returning to your breath, to your body, cultivating a sense of spaciousness and a courage to meet life just as it is. We so need this right now.

Communally: We create refuge for each other when we watch out for those who are being persecuted and oppressed and find ways to give them safe harbor. The Sanctuary Caravan movement is doing that by building a group of people who are bearing witness to and supporting immigrants from Latin American countries.

And there are many other creative ways that refuge takes form. I think of a project I’ve been involved with over these past few years – the Española Healing Foods Oasis, a garden where native plants and herbs are given a safe home in which to grow and thrive, and the community comes together to tend this garden and learn about these traditional foods. Everyone benefits from this kind of refuge.

Refuge: a place of protection, a place that provides us with the safety we need to unfold our lives in the most authentic way.

What does creating and taking refuge look like for you? If it’s not something you’ve thought of, what forms might it take in your life? Leave a comment below and let’s explore this together…

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