Consent Culture in Spiritual Tending: A Sacred Practice of Boundaries

Building relationships of mutual respect, safety, and empowerment in spiritual community

Introduction: Beyond the Tea Analogy

You’ve probably heard the tea analogy for consent: offering someone tea, accepting their “no thank you,” not forcing tea on someone who’s unconscious. It’s a helpful starting point, but spiritual tending relationships require us to go deeper. When we engage in the sacred work of holding space for others’ spiritual growth, healing, or questioning, we’re not just offering tea—we’re creating containers for transformation.

Consent culture isn’t just about preventing harm; it’s about creating the conditions where people can show up authentically, set boundaries freely, and participate fully in their own spiritual journey.

The Sacred Nature of Consent

In spiritual communities, consent takes on profound dimensions. Consent is of primary importance in spirituality. Do not allow anyone to coerce you into any belief, activity, or relationship. When someone shares their deepest questions, fears, or spiritual experiences with us, they’re offering a form of sacred trust. How we hold that trust—and how we invite them to engage—shapes not just our relationship, but their relationship with the divine, with community, and with themselves.

Consider these questions as you reflect on your own spiritual tending practice:

- How do I create space for people to say no to spiritual practices, beliefs, or experiences?

- What does it mean to get consent for emotional or spiritual labor?

- How do I model that boundaries are welcome and respected?

The Four Pillars in Spiritual Context

Traditional consent culture teaches us four key pillars. Here’s how they apply to spiritual tending:

 1. Freely Given

In spiritual settings, this means:

- No spiritual bypassing (“just pray harder,” “release your anger”)

- No coercion around beliefs or practices

- Acknowledging power dynamics (mentor/student, clergy/congregant, healer/client)

- Creating space for people to disagree with teachings

 2. Informed

This requires:

- Transparency about your training, limitations, and approach

- Clear communication about what spiritual practices involve

- Honest discussion of potential emotional or spiritual risks

- Acknowledging when something is outside your competence

3. Enthusiastic

Watch for:

- Genuine engagement vs. people-pleasing compliance

- The difference between nervous excitement and reluctant agreement

- Body language and energy that matches verbal consent

- Space for changing one’s mind without explanation

4. Revocable

This means:

- People can withdraw from spiritual practices mid-session

- Ongoing check-ins rather than one-time permission

- No guilt or persuasion when someone changes boundaries

- Respect for evolving spiritual needs and comfort levels

Practical Applications in Spiritual Tending

 Before Engaging

- **Check in about capacity**: “Do you have energy for this conversation today?”

- **Clarify the container**: “This is a space for questioning—you don’t need to have answers.”

- **Acknowledge choice**: “Feel free to share only what feels right to you.”

During Spiritual Tending

- **Notice non-verbal cues**: Tension, withdrawal, or sudden silence may indicate discomfort

- **Offer options**: “Would you like me to listen, offer perspective, or just sit with you?”

- **Check consent for physical practices**: “Would touch be welcome right now?”

 Ongoing Boundaries

- **Digital boundaries**: Consent for texting, social media connections, or sharing their story

- **Time boundaries**: Respecting session limits and availability

- **Emotional boundaries**: Not taking on others’ spiritual crises as your own emergency

Creating Consent Culture in Community

The UUA has a commitment to sexuality education that centers autonomy, empowerment, fluidity, and consent. This same commitment can extend to all aspects of spiritual community life:

**Model boundary-setting**: Share your own limits and needs openly

**Normalize “no”**: Celebrate when people honor their boundaries

**Address power dynamics**: Acknowledge when you hold authority and work to minimize its coercive potential

**Create multiple options**: Not everyone connects spiritually in the same way

The Spiritual Invitation of Consent Culture

Consent culture in spiritual tending isn’t just about preventing harm—though it certainly does that. It’s about creating the conditions where people can:

- Trust their own inner knowing

- Engage authentically rather than performatively

- Experience the divine as liberating rather than coercive

- Build relationships based on mutual respect and care

When we practice consent culture, we’re essentially saying: “Your autonomy is sacred. Your boundaries are wisdom. Your yes is precious because your no is honored.”

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

1. How has lack of consent shown up in your spiritual communities or relationships?

1. What would change if we truly believed that someone’s spiritual “no” was as sacred as their “yes”?

1. Where do you need to examine power dynamics in your own spiritual relationships?

1. How can consent culture enhance rather than limit spiritual connection and growth?

Real-World Examples: Consent Culture in Action

Example 1: Offering a Guided Meditation

Instead of: “We’re going to do a breathing meditation now. Everyone close your eyes and follow along.”

Try: “I’d like to offer a 10-minute guided meditation focusing on breath awareness. This will involve closing your eyes and following verbal prompts. You’re welcome to participate fully, adapt it to your needs, or simply sit quietly. If you need to opt out at any point, that’s completely fine. Does anyone have questions or concerns before we begin?”

During the meditation: “I invite you to check in with your body and energy, at any point, feel free to open your eyes, adjust your position, or breathe naturally.”

Example 2: Spiritual Direction Intake Interview

Instead of: “Our sessions are $X per hour. Most people find weekly meetings work best. You really should commit to at least six months to see real progress.”

Try: “During this appointment I like to share information about how I work. Afterward,  we each can decide if this feels like the right match. Sessions are $X per hour, and people meet anywhere from monthly to weekly based on their needs and budget. There’s no minimum commitment—we can meet once and see how it goes, or arrange ongoing sessions. I recommend a commitment of 8 months, but the time is yours and we can change at any time. What questions do you have about this approach? What would help you discern if this feels like a good fit?”

Example 3: Choosing a Movie with Friends

Instead of: “Let’s watch this horror movie—you’ll love it! Come on, don’t be a wimp.”

Try: “I’m in the mood for a horror film, but I want to pick something we’ll all enjoy. I’m also open to seeing an adventure. Sarah, I know scary movies aren’t usually your thing—are you feeling up for it tonight, or should we find something else? What’s everyone’s energy level like?”

When someone expresses hesitation: “No worries! What sounds good to you instead?” (Rather than negotiating or trying to convince them)

Why These Examples Matter

Notice how each example:

• Provides information before asking for participation

• Offers genuine choice without pressure or guilt

• Normalizes saying no by explicitly welcoming it

• Respects capacity and mood rather than assuming consent

• Maintains relationship regardless of the person’s choice

These aren’t just “nice” communication practices—they’re expressions of deeper spiritual values about honoring each person’s autonomy, wisdom, and sacred boundaries.

Resources for Going Deeper

- Host consent conversations in your community using discussion guides

- Explore comprehensive sexuality education curricula like Our Whole Lives (OWL)

- Practice asking for consent in low-stakes daily interactions

- Read books like the “Pagan Consent Culture” anthology for deeper theological reflection

-----

*Consent culture is not about creating barriers to spiritual connection—it’s about creating the trust and safety that makes authentic spiritual sharing possible. When people know their boundaries will be honored, they’re more likely to risk vulnerability, growth, and genuine encounter with the sacred.*

The Garden of Accountability and Grace

We gather at the turning of the season—Lughnasadh, Lammas, the First Harvest marked the beginning of August. A festival of ripening, reaping, and reckoning. The days are still sunny. Boy howdy, the sun is still warming us! But the days are noticeably shortening. The fields are full, and the shadows are lengthening.

This is the beginning of the end of summer. And it's also a beginning of its own.

Lughnasadh invites us to pause. To honor what we have grown—what has grown in us. To ask: What did I sow? What am I harvesting from that? And perhaps more tenderly: What didn't grow? What seeds failed? What plantings began and then did not bear fruit? What needs to be composted?

We usually think of harvest as celebration time. But it's also accountability time.

Harvest and accountability say no to punishment, no to perfectionism, but yes to presence. 

They say yes to what is.

Accountability asks us to face the truth—face the truth of our impact, not just our intent. We check the field. Not the seed packet, not the planting plan, but the actual soil, the actual field, the actual fruit. What came up? What didn't? What failed to thrive?

Fresh picked tomatos on a bed of lettuce. Pixabay CC0

A Story

I want to share a story.

Several years ago, I was part of a community organization I believed in deeply. I showed up with good intentions, with energy, with training, with ideas. I thought I was helping. My vision was so sure. I had a plan.

But over time, I began to hear feedback—gentle at first, and then more direct—that my way of showing up was taking up too much space, was hurting certain individuals, was not working with the culture of that particular group. That I wasn't listening as well as I thought I was. I was trying to push a river that did not want to be pushed.

And I got defensive. I wanted to explain myself. I mean, I was right. But accountability isn't about defending our intentions—it's about listening to our impact.

I remembered a bus driver I knew. He would enforce traffic laws with his bus. He was right... but that was really dangerous. Someone could end up dead.

So I paused. I stepped back. I asked myself: What am I harvesting here? And the answer wasn't growth for the organization, it wasn't increased accountability for the board, it wasn't even improved relationships. In fact, I was poisoning the fields with my vision and approach.

I knew I needed to leave. I grieved, I grieved hard. And I was embarrassed. And I was angry. I mean, remember? I was right.

And I grew. I don't know if the organization improved its processes or became more accountable to its membership, but I was no longer flinging myself against a wall.

Turns out, being right isn't enough. I needed to change.

This experience taught me what Rev. Angel Kyodo Williams means when she writes: "Without inner change, there can be no outer change. Without collective change, no change matters."

Accountability is the inner change. It's the willingness to look at the garden honestly. To name what thrived—and what didn't.

Bus on Road, Columbus OH. Photo by Chris F. CC0

Where Grace Shows Up

And here's the thing: Accountability all on its own can feel heavy. It can feel exhausting, it can feel accusatory. It can feel like standing in the field and only noticing the withered crops, wondering where you went wrong.

So that's where grace needs to show up.

Grace isn't an escape hatch. It isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card. It's not letting ourselves off the hook. Grace is what makes staying accountable possible.

Grace is being the soft animal that is our body. Grace is being human. Grace is the peace of knowing what is and still loving yourself. Grace is compost. It takes what's decaying and makes that holy.

bell hooks reminds us: "Forgiveness is an act of love for the self and for others, and it opens up possibilities for grace."

Grace doesn't erase our accountability. It makes the transformation possible. With grace, you can take the withered stalks, the unsprouted seeds, the insect-eaten fruits, and you can plow them back into the soil and renew the garden's resilience.

Grace says: You are still worthy. You are still growing. You can try again.

Mustard Greens in Fall Garden. Photo by Eileen Kane, licensed as CC2.0

Holding Both

At first harvest, we hold both. In fact, here in Portugal, this time of first harvest is the time to plant for the next harvest. We get a do-over.

We grieve, and we celebrate. We mourn the crops that didn't make it. We tend to the ones that did. We name what we are proud of. We name what we regret.

We glean, we gather what's left at the margins—what might have been overlooked. We honor the imperfect abundance.

Remember that the garden is not just ours—it's shared. And so is the work of tending it. It's all of our garden.

Accountability and Grace in These Times

These questions of accountability and grace—they're not just for our personal gardens. They're for the public square too.

How do I stay accountable to myself, my loved ones, my neighbors—knowing that my neighbors include unhoused people, trans people, people of color, people whose very existence is under threat right now? Accountability here means checking my impact, not just my intent. It means asking: Am I showing up in ways that actually help, or am I just making myself feel better? Am I listening to the people most affected, or am I imposing my own vision of what help should look like?

And grace—how do I offer grace to folks who are lacking empathy or lacking comprehension of the harms being done in these times? Accountability is saying, "When you know better, you can do better." Grace is saying, "I will not condemn you for not knowing better." But grace doesn't mean being naive. It doesn't mean having no boundaries. I can believe someone is whole, holy, and worthy, and still choose not to talk with them. Grace can be protecting my energy for the work that matters. Grace can be saying "I see your humanity" without saying "and therefore I'll accept your harm."

How do we offer grace to ourselves so that we DO try again when we fail? Because we will fail. We'll say the wrong thing, miss the important thing, show up imperfectly. Grace says: You're still worthy. You're still growing. You can try again. And the world needs you to try again.

August Sunflowers. CC0 licensed photo by Mary Jane Duford from the WordPress Photo Directory.

An Invitation

So I invite you to reflect: What have you learned this year about accountability? Where are you being invited to extend grace—to yourself, to someone else? What does your harvest look like, really? What are you called to do with it?

How are you being called to tend the shared garden of our communities, our democracy, our world?

Blessing

We grieve the promises we could not keep. We grieve the seeds that didn't rise, the grace we withheld from others, from ourselves. We grieve what we hoarded and what we lost.

And still, the barley is there, bending golden in the field. Still the sun warms us. Still the earth says: Try again.

May you be honest about what grew. May you be gentle with what didn't. May your hands stay open—to give, to grieve, to gather. And may your heart learn the alchemy of grace.

Tending Seekers' Psychedelic Spiritual Experiences

Psychoactive Substances and Spiritual Practice

Psychoactive plants and fungi have been part of spiritual and religious traditions across the globe for thousands of years. In many cultures, they are regarded as sacred beings or teachers — allies in healing, visioning, connecting with ancestors or deities, and sustaining communal rituals. These practices long predate modern psychology and neuroscience, yet they still offer profound wisdom about altered states, sacred relationship, and meaning-making.

As Western curiosity about psychedelics grows, spiritual companions are being called to ask: What is our role in supporting seekers of these experiences? How can we honor ancient traditions without appropriating them? And how do we navigate the ethical, legal, and pastoral questions that arise?

The tobacco plant (Nicotiana tabacum). Joachim Müllerchen. CC BY 2.5

Honoring Sacred Lineages and Addressing Historical Harm

Psychedelic plant practices—such as Amazonian ayahuasca ceremonies, Andean wachuma (San Pedro cactus) pilgrimages, and Indigenous yopo snuffs—are rooted in cosmologies where the plant is a living relative, not a “substance” to be used.

For example, the Brazilian Santo Daime tradition blends Catholic liturgy, Afro-Brazilian Spiritism, and Indigenous plant medicine practices. Its services are filled with hymns, community healing work, and structured safety protocols. The ayahuasca (called Daime) is not recreational — it is sacramental, central to worship.

Western mental health systems have often ignored or displaced these cultural frameworks, sometimes in ways that mirror colonial extraction. A scholarly critique of the global mental health movement notes how such systems often fail to respect Indigenous epistemologies and may perpetuate cultural erasure.
True honoring means asking:

• Where does this plant come from, and who are its keepers?

• Is the lineage being acknowledged and supported?

• Am I unintentionally mimicking rituals that aren’t mine?

• How can I give back to the communities sustaining these traditions?

Peyote. Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=500120

Accompanying with Care: Six Guiding Principles

If someone you accompany is exploring plant medicine, you are not there to dose or administer (unless trained, licensed, and legally permitted). Your ministry is in presence, discernment, and integration.

It IS appropriate for a seeker to explore journeying or spiritual experiences with these substances—outside of our sessions—if that is part of their spiritual path or tradition. Seekers are welcome to bring insights from those experiences into our conversations together.

These six principles can help:

1. Know Your Role – Make clear that your accompaniment happens in preparation and integration, not during the administration of a psychedelic (unless you are legally and professionally equipped to do so). You will not be accompanying a seeker while they are under the influence of a psychoactive substance.

2. Get Trained – Seek training in psychedelic integration, harm reduction, and trauma-informed care from reputable providers like Fluence, CIIS, MAPS, Psychedelic Support, or Indigenous-led apprenticeships.

3. Emphasize Preparation and Integration –
   Before: Ask grounding questions: “What are you hoping to meet or understand?” “What anchors will you carry if you feel unmoored?” Help set intentions and create ritual space.
   After: Invite reflection: “Where did the sacred show up?” “What part of this still needs tending?” Suggest journaling, art, nature time, or community rituals to weave insights into daily life.

4. Respect Lineage – Name and honor the cultural roots of the practice. Avoid mimicking Indigenous rituals without permission or training. Support living elders and knowledge keepers whenever possible.

5. Know Legal Boundaries – Laws differ by country, state, and even city. In the U.S., for example, Oregon and Colorado have legalized supervised psilocybin services, but most other jurisdictions have not. Even in “decriminalized” areas, unlicensed facilitation can carry legal risk.

6. Tend Your Own Inner World – Hold regular supervision, peer support, or spiritual direction for yourself. Be alert for projection, rescuing, or over-identifying. Ask: “Am I grounded enough to be a calm anchor?” “Do I have support for what may arise in me?”

Holding the Sacred with Integrity

Psychoactive plants can open deep spiritual gateways — and those spaces require both humility and skill. As companions, we protect the sacredness of these medicines when we hold preparation carefully, listen deeply, name boundaries clearly, and honor the cultures that steward them. In doing so, we support seekers in journeys that are not only safe, but deeply transformative.

Beloved, you are whole, holy, and worthy,
Rev. Amy
Companioning soul-weary change-makers becoming rooted, aligned, and alive again.

---

For Further Exploration

• Science – Archaeologists find richest cache of ancient mind-altering drugs in South America. Article on archaeological evidence of early psychoactive use.
  https://www.science.org/content/article/archaeologists-find-richest-cache-ancient-mind-altering-drugs-south-america

• Derek Summerfield – The Export of Western Mental Health Models. Critique of imposing Western systems where Indigenous healing is foundational.
  https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7348435/

• Chacruna Institute – Lessons from Indigenous Wisdom. Ethical frameworks for honoring Indigenous knowledge in psychedelic work.
  https://chacruna.net/lessons-from-indigenous-wisdom/

• New Scientist – Mind Menders: How Psychedelic Drugs Rebuild Broken Brains. Overview of neuroscience and therapeutic potential of psychedelics.
  https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg23631530-300-mind-menders-how-psychedelic-drugs-rebuild-broken-brains/

• Fireside Project – Psychedelic peer support via phone/text.
  https://firesideproject.org

• Rachel Harris – Listening to Ayahuasca. Reflections from a psychotherapist working respectfully with plant medicines.
  https://www.listeningtoayahuasca.com/

• Indigenous Peyote Conservation Initiative – Protects peyote lands and ceremonial use.
  https://peyote.org

• Eduardo Luna – Ethnobotany and Therapeutic Use of Ayahuasca. Anthropological and therapeutic overview.
  https://www.erowid.org/culture/characters/luna_eduardo/ayahuasca_therapeutic_use.pdf

• Constantino Manuel Torres – A Psychoactive Snuff from the North Andes. Scientific study of a traditional snuff.
  https://www.researchgate.net/publication/262530524_A_Psychoactive_Snuff_from_the_North_Andes

• María Lugones – Decolonial Feminism. Foundational essay on relational decolonial practice.
  https://philpapers.org/rec/LUGDF

• Shawn Wilson – Research is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods. Book on relational accountability and decolonizing methodologies.
  https://www.fernwoodpublishing.ca/book/research-is-ceremony

Specific Plants

Ethnobotany and Therapeutic Use of Ayahuasca A sacred brew from the Amazon basin, used in Indigenous and syncretic traditions such as Santo Daime for healing and spiritual journeying. http://www.neip.info/downloads/t_edw11.pdf 

The Andean region includes a diversity of psychoactive plant use in ritual contexts, including yopo, wachuma (San Pedro cactus), and others. A Psychoactive Snuff from the North Andes https://akjournals.com/view/journals/2054/3/2/article-p198.xml 

What Bessel van der Kolk Got Wrong: A Spiritual Companion’s Reflection on Trauma

The Score We Keep

Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score has become a sacred text in trauma discourse. It’s cited in therapy rooms, yoga studios, and spiritual circles alike. And yet, as spiritual companions, we must ask: what score are we keeping, and whose story does it serve?

This post is not a dismissal of van der Kolk’s contributions, but a gentle unearthing of what lies beneath the surface—what he missed, what he himself has moved beyond, and how we, as spiritual companions, can hold trauma in ways that honor the soul’s journey toward wholeness. 

I want to add a different term for "trauma". The term 'spiritual imbalance' has been used in some indigenous cultures to refer to the experience van der Kolk terms 'trauma'. I find it interesting to use that phrase as a way to expand how I think, and to remove the overused (and let's face it) buzzword: trauma. When we speak of spiritual imbalance, we shift from a clinical framework that often focuses on damage and pathology to one that suggests the possibility of restoration and realignment. This language invites us to consider not just what has been broken, but what sacred equilibrium might be recovered. It acknowledges that our deepest wounds often occur at the level of spirit and meaning, disrupting our connection to ourselves, our communities, and our sense of place in the larger web of existence. The word 'imbalance' itself carries hope—it suggests that what has been thrown off-kilter can, with proper tending, be brought back into harmony.

I know there are other ways to talk about the ways life experiences continue to echo and affect us long afterward. I encourage you to find other phrases and descriptions as a way to expand how we live with, how we heal, and how we thrive.

Each reframing also honors the wisdom of cultures that understand healing as a restoration of spiritual wholeness rather than simply the absence of symptoms.

Neuroscience of PTSD. ScienceWorks Behavioural Healthcare. Kiesa Kelly

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie: A Reconsideration of Unearthing

Van der Kolk’s model assumes that trauma must be excavated, faced, and reprocessed. This is the foundation of many trauma therapies: exposure, EMDR, somatic experiencing. But what if healing doesn’t always require digging?

Some practitioners and scholars argue that focusing on health, resilience, and present-moment safety can be just as—if not more—effective than revisiting pain:

• Existential and Philosophical Perspectives
  Trauma theorist B. T. Reuther suggests that over-focusing on trauma can hinder a full understanding of human experience. Instead, integrating spiritual imbalance into a broader existential framework allows for healing through meaning-making and embodiment.

• Pluralistic Counseling Psychology
  Catherine Athanasiadou-Lewis critiques the dominance of trauma-focused cognitive behavioral models. She advocates for eclectic and psychodynamic approaches that honor the complexity of the psyche and allow for healing without direct confrontation.

• Ethical Concerns
  Anne Rothe’s critique of postmodern trauma theory warns against turning "trauma" into a sacred object that must be unearthed and venerated. She calls this “irresponsible nonsense,” arguing that such models can confuse victimhood, retraumatize listeners, and obscure ethical clarity.

Archeological Dig. Designed by Wannapik

The Spiritual Lens: Spiritual Imbalance as Sacred Threshold

In spiritual companionship, spiritual imbalance is not pathology. What can it be if we apply a spiritual or wholeness lens?

• Wholeness Over Wounding
  Van der Kolk’s model often implies that spiritual imbalance leaves us permanently broken. But spiritual traditions teach that wounds are portals. As Rumi says, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” We must move from scorekeeping to soul-tending.

• Embodiment Without Fixation
  While van der Kolk emphasizes body-based therapies, he sometimes treats the body as a battleground. In contrast, spiritual practice invites us to inhabit the body as a temple. We are not attempting to fix something broken. We show up to listen. Yoga, breathwork, and movement are not cures; they are conversations.

• Relational Holding
  Trauma healing is not a solo endeavor. Companions hold space. We do not diagnose. We witness. We do not ask, “What happened to you?” but “What is seeking to be born through this pain?”

DBT for Trauma. ScienceWorks Behavioral Healthcare. Kiesa Kelly

For the Companion: How We Hold What Hurts

As spiritual companions, we are called to:

• Resist reduction: Avoid reducing spiritual imbalance to neurobiology or symptomology. Honor its mystery, its mythic dimension.
• Center the margins: Hold stories that dominant narratives erase. Listen for the voices beneath the score.
• Practice presence: Healing is not accomplished through pure technique. It requires presence. It is the sacred act of sitting beside someone in their becoming.

Beyond the Score

Van der Kolk gave us language for trauma. But language is not the whole story. The soul speaks in symbols, silence, and sacred rupture. As companions, we travel with questions, not answers. We travel with awe.

The body may keep the score, but the spirit keeps the song.

Let the dogs lie. Let the soul rise.

Beloved, you are whole, holy and worthy,

Rev. Amy
Companioning soul-weary change-makers becoming rooted, aligned and alive again.

---

For Further Exploration

• van der Kolk, Bessel. The Body Keeps the Score – A foundational text in trauma discourse, exploring how trauma reshapes the body and brain.

  Scheeringa, Michael. The Body Does Not Keep the Score – A critical review of van der Kolk’s claims, challenging the scientific basis of trauma narratives.

  Rothe, Anne. “Irresponsible Nonsense: An Epistemological and Ethical Critique of Postmodern Trauma Theory” – A sharp critique of trauma theory’s cultural elevation and ethical implications.

  AlAmmar, Layla. “This Book is Trash” – A literary trauma scholar’s blunt critique of van der Kolk’s erasure of systemic and marginalized trauma.

  Reuther, B. T. “Philosophical and Existential Perspectives on Trauma” – Offers a broader framework for understanding trauma through meaning-making and embodiment.

  Athanasiadou-Lewis, Catherine. “A Critical Evaluation of the Conceptual Model and Empirical Evidence for PTSD Treatments” – Advocates for pluralistic approaches beyond trauma-focused CBT.

See Also on This Blog

• Trauma Integration in Spiritual Tending – Offers grounded approaches to accompanying seekers who carry trauma, with attention to scope of practice, spiritual safety, body-based practices, and the sacredness of the healing journey.

• Bearing Witness to Moral Injury – Explores how spiritual companions can support those wrestling with ethical pain and inner conflict.

• Introduction to Trauma-Informed Spiritual Tending – Outlines key principles of trauma-aware companioning and how they support safety, agency, and healing.

• Supporting Souls in Shadows: Spiritual Direction and Depression – Offers insights for accompanying seekers through times of grief, depression, and spiritual dryness.

• Traveling with Despair: Consent, Companionship & the Sacred – Explores how spiritual companions can meet seekers in despair with consent-based care, avoiding rescue impulses. Draws on mysticism, trauma wisdom, and the sacredness of shadowed journeys.

This Heart of Spirit Tending series is ©2025 Amy Beltaine, all rights reserved. You may freely reprint any blog post, website, or print resource. Simply include the following attribution, and if you print online, make the link at the end live:

Article ©2025 Amy Beltaine, all rights reserved. Reprinted with permission. This article and hundreds of others, along with other free resources, are available at www.AmyBeltaine.info

We Are the Help: A Modern Parable of Divine Action

We Are the Rescue: A Modern Parable of Divine Action

You know the story. The floodwaters are rising, and a faithful person sits on their roof, refusing rescue after rescue. "God will save me," they insist to the Jeep driver, the canoe paddlers, the helicopter pilot. When they arrive in heaven and ask why God didn't save them, the divine response comes: "I sent you a Jeep, a canoe, and a helicopter."

We tell this parable to remind ourselves to recognize divine action in human hands, to accept help when it's offered, to stop waiting for supernatural intervention when real, tangible rescue is right in front of us.

But recently, in conversation with someone wrestling with the weight of our current moment, this familiar story flipped on its head. What if we ask a different question: Who was driving that Jeep? Who was paddling that canoe? Who was piloting that helicopter?

We were.

Flood, New Hartford, IA June 9 2008, The U.S. National Archives

The Flood Is Upon the Rescuers Too

Here's what the traditional telling doesn't acknowledge: the people showing up to help aren't standing on dry ground. The Jeep driver is navigating rising waters. The canoe paddlers are in the flood themselves, choosing to use their vessel to reach someone else. The helicopter pilot is flying through the storm.

We are all in this flood together. And somehow, miraculously, divinely, we keep showing up for each other anyway.

This reframe transforms everything about how we understand our role in the world's current crises. We're not just called to accept help when the divine sends it through human hands—we're called to be those hands, even when we're struggling to keep our own heads above water.

Sacred Responsibility in Hard Times

When we flip the parable this way, it reveals something profound about divine action and human responsibility. If we are the hands and feet of the divine in this world, then our showing up for each other isn't just good citizenship or moral duty—it's sacred work.

The person driving through flood zones to check on neighbors isn't just being helpful; they're participating in divine rescue. The community organizer working to protect vulnerable populations isn't just doing politics; they're engaging in holy work. The minister crafting messages about love and commitment when everything feels overwhelming isn't just doing their job; they're serving as a conduit for divine possibility.

But here's the thing that makes this both beautiful and heartbreaking: we're doing this sacred work while we're also the ones who need rescuing.

The Joy and Weight of Being Divine Agents

This understanding carries both tremendous weight and unexpected lightness. The weight comes from recognizing that if we are the divine rescue that shows up for others, then the work really is up to us. We can't wait for someone else to fix what's broken. We are the someone else.

But the lightness—and this is crucial—comes from remembering that we don't have to do this work alone, and we don't have to do it without joy.

Maybe I don't have a jeep, but I have a song to sing while you paddle the canoe. Maybe I don't have a helicopter, but I have a friend who has a friend who lives near the airfield (and I'm not afraid to ask.)

Even in the flood, there can be connection. Even in crisis, there can be moments of beauty. Even when we're rescuing others, we can experience the profound satisfaction of being part of something larger than ourselves, of participating in divine action in the world.

Rescue Personnel respond to Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans, LA. Combined Military Service Digital Photographic Files

Recognizing the Sacred in Small Acts

If we're looking for the divine in human rescue efforts, we need to expand our definition of what rescue looks like. It's not just the dramatic helicopter moments. It's also:

• The pure joy of pushing a four-year-old grandchild in a swing, creating a moment of delight that ripples beyond just the two of you
• Witnessing the small miracle of strangers greeting each other warmly in an airport waiting area, choosing connection over isolation
• The decision to do your specific work—developing learning materials for students, writing about love and commitment rather than contributing to despair factories—instead of getting pulled into internet debates or other energy drains
• The practice of celebrating completion with something as simple as a joyful checkmark in the air, acknowledging your efforts whether the task was distasteful or routine
• Offering a guest room in a safe place for people who need one for a while
• The choice to show up authentically in small daily interactions

These small acts of showing up are divine rescue operations happening all around us, carried out by people who are themselves in need of rescue.

Sea Rescue, Wellington, NZ CC2.0

We Are Called to Be the Canoe

The traditional flood parable asks us to recognize divine help when it comes. But the flipped version calls us to something more demanding and more beautiful: to be the help that comes, to be the divine presence that shows up for others, to be willing to get in our canoe and paddle toward someone who's struggling, even though we're in the flood too.

This doesn't mean we have to be saviors or that everything depends on us. It means we're part of a vast network of divine action, a web of people showing up for each other in small and large ways, each of us both giving and receiving rescue.

In these times that feel so overwhelming, so impossible, this reframing offers both challenge and comfort. Yes, the work is ours to do. But no, we don't do it alone. We are simultaneously the drowning and the rescue, the lost and the found, the ones who need saving and the ones who show up to save.

The flood is upon us all. And we keep reaching for each other anyway. If that's not divine action, I don't know what is.

---

What rescue are you being called to offer today? What help are you being called to accept? Sometimes we are the Jeep, sometimes we are the person on the roof, and sometimes we are both at once.

Beloved,

You are whole, holy, and worthy

Rev. Amy Beltaine

(http://amybeltaine.info)

When the Path Diverges: Endings in Spiritual Direction

When the Path Diverges: Endings in Spiritual Tending

Endings are a natural part of all relationships, including spiritual direction work. Still, they can be emotionally and spiritually tender—especially when they happen suddenly or without acknowledgment. Whether a spiritual tendinf relationship spans three sessions or three years, how we conclude the journey matters.

Why Endings Matter

Spiritual care isn’t a haircut or a massage. While it might be fine to silently stop scheduling hair appointments, this "fade-away" approach is not ideal for deep, sacred relationships. (Perhaps we could have a conversation about disappearing on hairdressers as well?) A spiritual care relationship touches on a person’s heart, growth, and sacred story. It deserves a thoughtful farewell.

And yet, unexplained disappearances happen, even in spiritual tending.

People stop replying. They don’t schedule again. They disappear, perhaps without even meaning to. Life gets busy. Emotional discomfort arises. Some feel awkward naming a need to pause or move on. If this has happened to you as a companion, you're not alone. If you’ve no-showed/no-called a spiritual companion yourself, know that many of us have at some point, and it’s never too late to reach out with a thank-you or a simple goodbye.

The truth is, endings are often vulnerable. They ask us to acknowledge change. They require us to let go. But when handled with care, they can be as meaningful as any other part of the journey.

Setting Expectations Early

One of the best ways to support good endings is to talk about them at the beginning. I often let seekers know:

• You are free to end at any time. This is your journey, and I honor your discernment.

• When possible, let’s name an ending together. Even a brief email or single final session helps bring a sense of completeness.

• I will not take your need to stop personally. Seasons change. Life shifts. People grow and need different support. That’s normal.

You might also name your own rhythm of checking in: “If I haven’t heard from you in three months, I’ll send a gentle note to see where things stand. No pressure—just presence.”

Different Ways to End

Not every ending looks the same. Here are a few possibilities:

• A closing session. Sometimes a seeker knows it’s time to pause or move on and names this during a regular session. Together, you might spend that time harvesting the fruits of the journey.

• An email or message. If a final session isn’t possible, a note of thanks and farewell can still offer closure.

• A ritualized goodbye. Whether short or elaborate, ritual can honor the sacredness of the relationship and bless what’s next.

• Time-limited agreements. Some spiritual care relationships are set up for a season—a 6-month program, a year-long container, or a sabbatical accompaniment. When that’s the case, you can build reflection and closure into the final session from the start.

None of these are required, but each offers an opportunity for mutual blessing.

An Intentional Ritual to Close the Circle

When seekers are open to it, I offer the following “Ritual of Looking Back, Looking Forward.” It’s designed for two people to do together via teleconference and helps mark the end of our time with meaning and grace.

---

Ritual of Looking Back, Looking Forward (for Two, via teleconference or in person)

To conclude a spiritual tending relationship.
Materials: One central candle, one candle for each person (companion and seeker), matches or lighter, and a fire-safe surface.

1. Before the appointment: Each person sets up their candle and fire-safe surface. Lights are dimmed to create a contemplative space.

2. Opening words:
   Companion says:
   “Welcome, [Seeker’s Name]. As our time together comes to a close, we gather virtually to acknowledge the journey we’ve shared and to bless the paths that lie ahead. This central candle, which I will light now, represents the time we’ve spent together…”

3. Lighting the central candle: The companion lights it and invites silent reflection:
   “What moments stand out for you, [Seeker’s Name]? What have you learned? What gifts have you received from this connection?”

4. Lighting individual candles: Each person lights their own candle, sharing a word or phrase about what they carry forward.
   “May our individual paths be illuminated with the wisdom and strength we have gained.”

5. Extinguishing the central candle: The companion gently puts it out, saying:
   “This does not mean the light we shared is gone, but rather that it has been dispersed, carried within each of us…”

6. Closing blessing and silence.

This simple setting of intentions and naming of consent allows the sacred relationship to be honored—without clinging, and without minimizing its depth.

---

If You’ve Been "Ghosted"…

It’s okay to feel sadness or confusion. Try not to assume ill intent. You might send a brief note like:

“Dear [Name],
I’ve noticed we haven’t connected in a while. If this marks the end of our companioning relationship, I want to say thank you for the time we shared. If you'd like to meet for a brief closing session, I’d be honored. In any case, may your path continue to be rich and spirit-filled.”

Even without a reply, you’ve modeled spaciousness, kindness, and healthy boundaries.

If You Need to End as the Companion

Sometimes you may feel a need to conclude the relationship—due to scope of practice, time constraints, personal limits, or misalignment. These conversations can be awkward but are often received with gratitude when offered gently and clearly. You might say:

“I want to honor the journey we've shared. I'm noticing that what you're seeking may be better supported by someone with a different focus. I'd be glad to help you find the right next companion, if you wish.”

Ending with care is part of ethical spiritual companionship. We can model what it looks like to say goodbye with respect and presence.

---

Try It

• If you're a seeker, consider how you want to bring closure when you sense a companioning relationship is complete. What would help you mark the transition?

• If you're a companion, create a few templates or rituals you can offer. Include a note about endings in your welcome packet.

• Reflect on past goodbyes in your own life. What made them feel meaningful—or not?

Every path has its thresholds. Every threshold offers a choice: to move back, or to move through with awareness. 

Beloved, you are whole, holy, and worthy. May your endings be as sacred as your beginnings.

With warmth,
Amy

---

For Further Exploration

• Finley, James. The Healing Path – Offers profound reflections on spiritual journeying, including what it means to release and let go.
https://jamesfinley.org/the-healing-path

• Spiritual Directors International – Offers guidelines and reflections on ethical companionship, including the importance of mutuality and closure.
https://www.sdicompanions.org

• Piver, Susan. The Four Noble Truths of Love – Though about relationships, this book offers tools for navigating the discomfort of endings with honesty and heart.
https://susanpiver.com/books

See also these posts

• The Heart of Spiritual Direction – Introduces the foundations of spiritual direction, highlighting presence, sacred listening, and the call to honor seekers as whole and holy. https://abeltaine.blogspot.com/2025/02/the-heart-of-spiritual-direction.html

• Consent as Spiritual Practice – explores how offering and receiving consent is a sacred act across spiritual traditions. http://abeltaine.blogspot.com/2022/06/consent-as-spiritual-practice.html

• Ethical Spiritual Tending: A Foundation of Trust and Integrity – Explores how sacred listening, ethical guidelines, and mutual agreements support trust and autonomy in spiritual direction. https://abeltaine.blogspot.com/2025/03/ethical-spiritual-companioning.html

• • Beginning the Journey: Intake Practices for Spiritual Companionship – On crafting hospitable and ethical beginnings through consent-based intake, shared expectations, and sacred agreements. https://abeltaine.blogspot.com/2025/04/beginning-journey-intake-practices-for.html

This Heart of Spiritual Tending series is ©2025 Amy Beltaine, all rights reserved. You may freely reprint any blog post, website, or print resource. Simply include the following attribution, and if you print online, make the link at the end live:

Article ©2025 Amy Beltaine, all rights reserved. Reprinted with permission. This article and hundreds of others, along with other free resources are available at http://www.AmyBeltaine.info

Showing up Safely: Practical Protest Info

Protest Safety & Strategy: Best Practices for Showing Up Wisely

Hey friends —

If you’re planning to attend the No Kings protests (or any other public action), take a deep breath and read this carefully. Protesting is a sacred form of community expression and resistance. It can also be risky — especially now. The suggestions below come from seasoned organizers, legal advocates like the ACLU, and radical communities like Reclaiming who have long practiced grounded, protective action in volatile settings.

Please adjust based on your local conditions, risk tolerance, and role. Some of us show up as marshals, medics, legal observers, clergy, or quiet anchors. All roles matter.

🖤  Before You Go

• Tell a trusted person where you’re going, when to expect you back, and what to do if they don’t hear from you. Consider designating them as your emergency contact.
• Write emergency numbers on your body in sharpie (e.g. National Lawyers Guild legal support line, local jail support, trusted friend).
• Charge all devices fully the night before if you’re bringing any — and seriously consider not bringing your usual phone.
• Consider a burner phone (cheap prepaid, with no identifying accounts or contacts). Use it only for critical communication or documentation — with no traceable apps, biometrics, or history.
• Download key tools in advance:
  
• ACLU’s Mobile Justice app or Signal (end-to-end encrypted).
• Offline maps.
• PDFs or screenshots of your rights.

🧤 What to Wear and Bring

• Wear plain, nondescript clothing (dark colors like black or grey) to reduce the chance of being individually identified later through video or photos.
• Avoid logos, unique accessories, or visible tattoos. If needed, cover distinguishing features.
• Good shoes (running or hiking shoes) that allow you to move quickly and comfortably.
• Mask up — for health, anonymity, and protection from tear gas. Use an N95 or similar with goggles or wraparound glasses.
• Bring eye protection (swim goggles or safety glasses) and a bandana soaked in vinegar or water in a sealed bag to cover your mouth/nose if tear gas is used. Do NOT wear contact lenses.
• Do not bring children to potentially escalated actions. If you do bring them to peaceful day rallies, have a backup adult, exit strategy, and regroup plan.
• Pack light and smart:
  
• Water (plus snacks or electrolyte tabs)
• Small first aid kit
• A bandana or scarf
• ID only if necessary (many advise leaving it behind unless you’re undocumented or at high risk)
• Cash (not cards) if possible
• A printout of your rights and legal support info

🚨 On the Ground: Staying Safe

• Stay with a buddy or affinity group — never walk alone.
• Keep calm, move with intention, and avoid reactive behaviors. Escalation is often initiated by provocateurs.
• Do not pick up or use objects that appear placed for destruction or disruption. These are often “plants” to justify police action.
• Follow trained marshals, de-escalators, or protest chaplains. Look for vests, hats, or armbands indicating role.
• Watch for provocateurs: people trying to incite violence, or escalate confrontations. Don’t engage. Move away. Signal marshals or peacekeepers.
• Keep your phone off or on airplane mode unless urgently needed.
• If filming police, know your rights: You can record public officials, but don’t interfere. Say “I do not consent to a search” if asked to unlock your phone.

📵 Phone & Data Safety

• Turn off biometric unlocks (face/fingerprint). Use a passcode only.
• Disable facial recognition & geolocation.
• Delete personal, identifying data from any phone you bring (contacts, photos, social media apps).
• Don’t text about protest plans. Use encrypted messaging apps like Signal or avoid digital communication altogether when organizing.

💚 Sustaining the Work

• Make room for care and grounding — this is a long-haul movement, not a single moment.
• Practice debriefing with trusted companions after actions. Check in emotionally and spiritually.
• Be kind to yourself. You don’t have to do everything. Show up in the ways you are called and resourced.
• Donate to bail funds, medics, and legal defense funds even if you can’t march.

🧠 Know Your Rights

• You have the right to peacefully protest in public spaces.
• You do not have to answer police questions beyond identifying yourself if required by local law.
• You can record police, but they may try to intimidate you not to. Be discreet and firm.
• You have the right to remain silent and to an attorney. Ask for one immediately if detained.

 ACLU resources by state: https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights

Let’s show up in love and strategy — not fear.

Let’s protect each other. 

Let’s build the world we long for.

Please share other tips here, particularly from groups with experience and knowledge. I’ll add them! 

See also:

A piece from Wired on surveillance technology used against protesters and what you can do about it. https://youtu.be/lL34WpoETds?si=6UYtAUblTNQpCzwt

Good advice at this FB post: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1AoKUX7FLv/?mibextid=wwXIfr

Praxis and Embodied Experience: Learning by Living in Spiritual Tending

Living What We Learn in Spiritual Tending

Spiritual direction is not just something we think about—it’s something we live with our bodies, breath, and being. Both Ignatian spirituality and many Pagan traditions share this: a conviction that experience is sacred text.

Praxis refers to the integration of theory and experience. The Collins Dictionary defines it as “practice, as distinguished from theory; application or use, as of knowledge or skills.” In religious and educational settings, it means that we learn not just by thinking or reading, but by doing—by living—and then reflecting on that lived experience.

Praxis is a feedback loop: we live, reflect, adapt, and then live again with deeper wisdom. Spiritual companions don’t just talk about sacred presence—they practice it, noticing how it moves through their lives and those they accompany. Praxis is how spiritual companions grow.

In spiritual direction, this looks like noticing what arises in a session, praying or journaling about it, shifting how we hold space, and returning again—more aware, more grounded.

Ralph Waldo Emerson put it this way:

“The true preacher can be known by this, that he deals out to the people his life,—life passed through the fire of thought.”

I’d substitute “minister” for “preacher” here.

Note on language: I use the word minister here to mean someone called to sacred service or care. Spiritual Companioning is a ministry—whether or not one is ordained. If another word fits better in your tradition, use that!

CC0

Embodied Prayer: Moving from Performance to Presence

Our bodies are not incidental to our spiritual lives. They are the ground of spiritual life. Body prayer—whether through breath, movement, stillness, or dance—is one way to engage the Sacred through lived experience, rather than performance.

This might be as simple as bowing with gratitude each morning, walking slowly in silence, or using breath to center before a session.

Betsy Beckman, in Awakening the Creative Spirit: Bringing the Arts to Spiritual Direction, writes:

“Whether we like it or not, we all have bodies. Our bodies carry emotions, memories, wounds, joys, and celebrations…

Nevertheless, as spiritual directors, we might ask the question, ‘Why do we dance?’

…To dance is to open ourselves to a deep wisdom that is beyond us, holding us, binding us together in intricate, energetic beauty.”

In this, Betsy echoes ancient traditions and modern somatic theology. The dance of life is not a metaphor—it’s a practice. A praxis.

Performance isn’t necessarily “bad”; in fact, sometimes we do need to “fake it 'til we make it” in many parts of our lives, and there are contexts where it is absolutely called for. However, the intention in SD work is presence.

The Korean dance troupe from Keimyung University perform the Drum Dance

Mysticism and Embodied Experience

So often, when thinking of mystical experience, people think of the solitary practitioner experiencing solitary one-ness with the divine. Mystical experience can be deeply individual, but it’s just as often communal, embodied, and even ecstatic. In Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy, Barbara Ehrenreich invites us to remember the power of communitas:

“The self-loss that participants sought in ecstatic ritual was not through physical merger with another person but through a kind of spiritual merger with the group.”

“To dance is to say yes to the sensual nature of life, infused with the movement of the ever-creative Spirit.”

This form of mysticism is rooted in movement, music, ritual, and shared presence—not in escaping the body or intellect, but inhabiting both more deeply.

Mysticism, in this sense, isn’t only a mountaintop moment—it’s dancing with others at ritual, singing in circle, weeping with a seeker. It’s sacred communitas. For spiritual companions, this collective joy is not a distraction from the sacred—it is one of its forms.

 For spiritual companions, mysticism isn’t just an experience to admire in others—it’s a praxis we’re invited into ourselves.

Try It:

• Reflect on a time when you “learned by doing” in your spiritual life. What did that teach you about God/Sacred/Spirit/self?
• Try a simple body prayer: Stand or sit. Breathe deeply. Let your hands rise as you inhale and lower as you exhale. What arises as you move? What shifts in your awareness?
• Recall a time when you were part of a ritual, service, or gathering that felt mystical or alive with spirit. What was happening in your body? What connected you to the others?
• Consider a body prayer that includes some Robin Wall-Kimmerer readings/quotes (she write rhapsodically about sacred strawberries) and then eating a strawberry. 
• Or attend a Tea Ceremony.

Consider: Where might your own practice of spiritual direction need more embodiment, more experience, or more reflection?

As always, this work begins with the body, with presence, and with the courage to let experience teach us. Praxis isn’t something we arrive at—it’s something we live, moment by moment, in sacred relationship.

Beloved, you are whole, holy, and worthy.

Rev. Amy