I'm drawn to the phrase restorative wisdom...all while I am averse to trying to share in words what it means.
I remember sitting in one of my pre-pandemic coffee-shops--Holy Grounds--after the morning CrossFit class. I'd go there on the way home for a quick write, which sometimes turned into a long write. I liked that the owners were older white men and two young-ish or middle-aged African-American women. It felt neighborly in there...
Something about the phrase arose in a conversation with my spirit-friend, also named Lisa. After we hung up the phone, I researched the URL openings and discovered www.restorativewisdom.org was available. I purchased the domain name on the spot. Had no plans for it yet, but I recognized enough serendipitous energy to spend the $20.
Today, I feel on the cusp of developing this space, but am unsure how to proceed. No one can curate a website on Restorative Wisdom, for one thing. It's not a singular or individual phenomenon. It's not expertise, nor can it be commodified into products to sell. Not that I'm interested in either, but that is often what websites serve today.
Restorative wisdom is inviting, at least in my felt-sense of it, so the site needs to be inviting, for curious and fearful alike. Just like Wisdom is... Something attractive arising, even if there is also a tinge of anxiety, fear, or aversion. I've learned to associate those sensations with 'opportunity for growth' that I may (or may not) appreciate in the end. A good risk, in other words, for deeper abundance and grace.
I also know I won't be creating this space by myself, so it becomes a question of with whom? and toward what direction or vision? I do know it's a circley-kind of space. I'm well steeped in multiple wisdom traditions, largely linear and (wounded)-masculine in orientation. Wisdom that restores requires a roundedness, a balancing, a fierce tenderness that speaks both protectoress and warrior, forgiveness and forgiven.
Maybe that's enough simply to begin.
Where there's a line, may we sow circle.
Where there is woundedness, may we sow healing.
Where there is fear, may we sow curiosity.
Where there are shrill voices, may we sow listening.
Sounds all rather Franciscan, doesn't it? Important to me to weave in the ancient alongside the present...