At the center of every crisis
is an inner space
so deep, so beckoning,
so suddenly and daringly vast,
that it feels like a universe,
feels like God.
When the unthinkable happens,
and does not relent,
we fall through our hubris
toward an inner flow,
an abiding and rebirthing darkness
that feels like home.
—Barbara Holmes, “What Is Crisis Contemplation?”
Dr. Barbara Holmes explains the essential conditions that give rise to crisis contemplation:
The crisis begins without warning, shatters our assumptions about the way the world works, and changes our story and the stories of our neighbors. The reality that was so familiar to us is gone suddenly, and we don’t know what is happening….
If life, as we experience it, is a fragile crystal orb that holds our daily routines and dreams of order and stability, then sudden and catastrophic crises shatter this illusion of normalcy. The crises … are usually precipitated by circumstances beyond the ordinary. I am referring to oppression, violence, pandemics, abuses of power, or natural disasters and planetary disturbances.
Until the moment that the crisis begins, you feel relatively safe and situated. Suddenly, everything changes. You are stolen from your village, placed in chains, and loaded onto ships headed to the Americas to be sold as slaves. Or, you are rounded up, placed on trains headed for a German death camp: Auschwitz, Treblinka, Bergen-Belsen, or Dachau. Or, upon the orders of the US government, you and members of your tribe are rounded up to begin a forced march from native lands in North Carolina to Oklahoma. Or, without warning, they send you and other Asian neighbors to internment camps. In each circumstance, some of you will survive the experience, but many of you will not. [1]
Holmes reflects on the distinct nature of crisis contemplation:
When the ordinary isn’t ordinary anymore and the crisis is upon us, the self can center in this refuge that I am calling “crisis contemplation,” a space that is neither the result of spiritual seeking nor the voluntary entry into meditative spaces. It is a cracking open, the rupture and shattering of self, community, expectations, and presumptions about how the world works. It is the result of trauma, freefall, and wounding….
Contemplation after or during crisis is a stillness in the aftermath of a primal scream, the abyss of unknowing, and the necessity of surviving the trauma together. Perhaps our definitions of “contemplation” need adjustment to reflect our unique social locations and inward journeys. As it turns out, there are many entry points into these sacred reflective spaces.
I can enter alone or with my community. We can journey inward, with or without music, with our bodies as engaged as our minds, but we must relinquish control and seek grounding within the mystical depths of inner spaces. [2]
Honoring Dr. Barbara Holmes
In honoring Dr. B, may we continue the struggle she so passionately embraced—the struggle for justice, the healing of the human spirit, and the call to radical creativity. Watch her speak about how death does not have the last word.
References:
[1] Barbara A. Holmes, Crisis Contemplation: Healing the Wounded Village (Albuquerque, NM: CAC Publishing, 2021), 19–20.
[2] Holmes, Crisis Contemplation, 44, 45.
Image credit and inspiration: Unknown, Dr. Barbara Holmes Headshot (detail), photo, United States. Click here to enlarge image.
Story from Our Community:
Dr. B has been instrumental to affirming the more radical sides of Jesus—the shamanic, mystic, healer, and prophet. She authentically shared her African indigenous spirituality and practices that held hands with Christianity in a seamless and loving way. It was truly an honor to learn from her and I will cherish her teachings even more. As she now joins the community of saints, I trust that she will continue praying for all of us from the Eternal Realm to live out loving action more prophetically.
—CAC Community Member
