A couple months ago, we were circled up around the fire with some friends in Detroit. A couple teachers, a couple therapists, a couple writers, an engineer. We were sharing our struggles with what one of us called “depression.” Heads nodded. We were folks who feel like we are actively engaged with what is happening in the world, tracking the latest wreckage wrought by covid and counterfeit notions of race, class and gender. We listened and resonated. We were a group of “successful” middle-class people whose souls were getting sunk by the sense that society is collapsing as our lives feel powerless and less fulfilling than we expected them to be by the time we got to our 30’s and 40’s.
On our way home, Lindsay lamented, “People do everything they are supposed to do, and it doesn’t pay off.” We go to college and grad school and get married and produce and perform—but our life algorithms lack the intimacy, depth, meaning, tenderness, nurture, support and sense of community that sustain our souls. This is what our friend Dr. Bruce Rogers-Vaughn, who studies how psyches are stamped by neoliberalism, calls “third-order suffering.” We feel the weight of the world and we do not know why. Often lonely. On the verge of tears. Or just going through the motions.
Bruce says that neoliberalism--the massive 40-year societal shift towards individual rights, personal responsibility and privatizing all resources--has emphasized perfectionism, self-promotion and competition. We are patterned to build our own brands, much of it on social media or other distanced digital networks. This has birthed an epidemic of narcissism, what suffering looks and feels like when it is isolated from the distress of others. Of course, all this is magnified by the pandemic.
In this fresh start called the new year, we are pondering how we might break rank with the ways that neoliberalism makes busyness a badge of honor--so that we can pursue the practices and activities that allow us to hear the sound of the genuine in ourselves: time with kindreds devoted to depth, meaning and vulnerability; time to play with our nephews and newborn niece; time to rest and reflect on what is happening inside us and all around us; time for restorative solitude and creative endeavors like writing, reading, cooking and sewing (one of Lindsay's resolutions); time for running, walking and sitting with both the human and the more-than human world in wilderness spaces; time to breathe with those Dr. King called "the other America," Black and Brown people, women and the working poor.
Back in July, on a float down the Deschutes River, we talked about the need for us to communicate more clearly about what Kardia Kaiomené offers folks like you, who get these emails or support our work, but who may not engage directly with the things we offer beyond that. In 2022, we will continue to facilitate lectio divina sharing circles, supportive check-in structures for couples, one-on-one soul accompaniment and intentional dialogues to discern relationships, spirituality and vocation. Sometimes these are one-off sessions. Sometimes they are part of a more consistent, regular rhythm. We are steeped, theoretically and experientially, in recovering from Christian fundamentalism and reclaiming a liberating spirituality; addressing addiction and codependency in ourselves and our systems; breaking rank with the principalities of patriarchy, whiteness and neoliberalism.
If you are interested in pursuing any of these with us, please holler. We are here to cultivate kinship with those interested in walking paths of recovery and resistance. If that's you, but you're still not sure what a good fit might be, we welcome you to reach out. Much of our ministry is one of mutuality, so it can take different shapes and sizes depending on the life circumstances, particular needs, stuck places, or bubblings of Spirit coming up for different folks at different times. We'd love to hear from you and offer a consult, referrals, or set something up if we find it's a fit!
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