I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to our Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Kellie Brown’s reflection on walking with care in a body that is chronically ill, and her poem Circumambulate.
The wise philosopher-teacher of Ecclesiastes wrote: “A generation goes, and a generation comes,/but the earth remains forever.” This passage goes on to describe the circular life of nature— the sun that rises and sets, the water that flows in then out, the wind that goes “round and round.” Ancient and modern monastics have been keenly attuned to the lessons that nature can teach us about faithful living. The 12th century abbess and polymath Hildegard of Bingen understood the interconnectedness of all creation and how nature reflects the divine. She gives voice to God, saying, “I have created mirrors in which I consider all the wonders of my originality which will never cease.” Part of individual life, however, is deterioration, what scientists call senescence. I reside in a body that is 53 years old, but feels and behaves much older. I have been battling chronic illness for over two decades. Navigating the body’s decline requires a monastic level of patience and persistence. It often calls for an ascetic break from activities no longer possible and demands a challenge to our society’s ableist mindset. Most importantly, it necessitates the hard-won practice of offering grace and compassion toward oneself. Is there a liturgy for chronic illness, for pain and stiffness and fatigue? One of the liturgies I keep is walking on an indoor track at the local gym. Treadmills cause me more pain, and my neighborhood has steep inclines. The gentle banked indoor track is my speed and my prayer labyrinth. I join in community with others who are unable to run the treadmill or climb the Stairmaster, but who like me are committed to the care and stewardship of our body in whatever ways we can. I honor us and call down God’s blessing for our efforts. God said, “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life.” I choose life.
Circumambulate
Round and round we go,
the old young, the old old.
Mirrored walls refract our trek
over a pockmarked, indoor track.
Slow amblers tuck inside,
brisk striders grind the right.
A cane can grace both lanes
on our banked, perpetual way.
Some list as sinking boats,
some set a surer pace.
All pray that in the end
a tortoise still wins the race.
Applaud us for our marathon.
Anoint us with crowns of laurel.
Triumph belies a finish line,
while victors rend death’s
ring around the rosie,
and refuse spoils of ash and posies.
Dr. Kellie Brown is a violinist, music educator, lay minister, and award-winning writer of the book The Sound of Hope: Music as Solace, Resistance and Salvation During the Holocaust and World War II. Her words have appeared in Earth & Altar, Ekstasis, Psaltery & Lyre, and others.
