Thoughts On Holding Center

Some time ago, I heard a beautiful phrase that kept returning for my attention. I believe it was a Quaker sentiment or, more accurately, a practice called “holding center.” I could be wrong about the Quaker part, but it seems likely. 

Moving toward center is something I’ve craved for much of my life. The center seems to be a place of perspective. A place where we can see. We look to the left, look to the right, and observe well. A place where up and down are within equal distance. A place of passion but not volatility. A place safely buffered. 

I suppose I could admit and discuss that deep conviction can feel like it drives us from our center. I would say that is life’s journey at times. And hasn’t history shown us that wisdom might move our idea of where center is? What center feels like? What we need our center to be? 

I’ve lost my center before. Have you? Fear. Loneliness. Life change. Misplaced drive. Unattended pain. All common experiences that jar us out of center.

When we lose center in one area of life, we can lose center in other areas. 

Have you ever had back pain? Ugh. The more you compensate for the area of pain, the more your spine over-works to handle the load in another area. Here a curve…there a bulge…more pain! 

Holding center with someone is to remind them of the area of their deep conviction and driving purpose. The place where they can live their healthiest and fullest life. The place where the storm might rage around, but the shelter of their familiar “why” remains at the core. Holding center is moving back to that spot with someone again and again until their own muscle memory does its job of pulling them there.

We never stop needing people to hold center with us, and I am fiercely committed to the idea of you having support and community. We were made to live, explore, and give; holding center for one another.

Here to help.