Hello, it’s Brett! I joined Karis as a Community Member in the early winter of 2014. Recently, I moved to a new city, to a renewed career, to a new community. And oh goodness, am I having fun being myself!
I have had a lifelong struggle with a sense of authenticity—many of my community fellows share in this constant confusion. Yet, moments of joy erupt from within me when I feel heard after sharing a genuine emotion. My first experience of that feeling was my first night at Karis.
I moved in on a Thursday and sheepishly studied the forms and documents provided to me. It was a rock passing* night, so my introduction into the community was the sharing of gratitude and well wishes as one of the Community members was “changing seasons.” That night was the birth of my voice. That night was the beginning of my cocoon.
* The Rock Passing Tradition:
A ceremony with staff and Community Members in attendance
to acknowledge the completion of the program
and transition to independence.
As a caterpillar might inch along a branch until it finds its spot to transform, so has been my experience within our community. Through all stages of my journey, since the day I moved in, I have always had a handful of community members “on-call” to receive my genuine expressions, from joy to terror. The more deeply I accept that gift, the more deeply I heal. The more deeply I heal, the more deeply I am empowered to be myself. The more deeply I am empowered to express authenticity, the deeper my community becomes.
My faith in the transformative power of community allows me to know that I can weather the extreme highs and lows I feel during times of disruption. Weekly alumni groups allow me to speak with the voice I discovered that cold, dark February night in 2014. In addition, the friendships I continue to develop enable me to discover my uniqueness.
Community and hope, I find it harder and harder to distinguish the two words. Yet, I do not have to bear the weight of my body any longer when I accept that my crutch, my taking of support, is what enables me to give. I can choose community, or I can choose hope, and I will always find both.
i. Hope is Community
As I stare out the window onto the avenue below
my wounds throb with the pain of concordance
and my heart begins to beat just a touch faster, nerves pulsing down my spine
crashing air of cars and busses beating like our ocean’s waves
sorrow and remorse rising and falling like the tides
where am I, it’s not home, is it safe, what is home, there’s no threat, is it home
the excitement of a fresh start casting my gaze towards the stars
exposing the roots of shame that I never planted
I can’t hear it, where is my drum, where did it go, who is my name and why am I here
ii. Hope is Community
The new year’s barking and howling echoed somberly through my ears, as I tried to navigate the wreckage in front of me. “Another night in the motel,” I sighed loudly, as if the quarreling raccoons, screeching sounds of fear, would know that I understood.
iii. Hope is Community
In my heart and mind and body
I seek the authenticity of my uniqueness
I seek the balance of giving in abundance and of taking in need
I seek the courage to act with the strength I grow
Through my words and deeds and intentions
We will heal together through sharing authentic expressions
We will discover the boundaries in ourselves through dances with our community
We will transform our wounds into strengths to courageously keep growing
Brett, Karis Community Alumni
Thank you, Brett, for sharing your deeply felt emotions and reflections. Wishing you continued peace and wonder.
Elissa, board member