Refuge in the Wilderness of Possibility
In physical, spiritual, and intellectual contexts, wilderness has almost always represented the unknown, offering those who sojourn within the opportunity to face fears, open the mind, question perceptions, and test fortitude, resilience, or resourcefulness. Ideally, we enter a wilderness intentionally and with an openness to possibility, and likewise, a forfeiting of a controlled known outcome. In this sense, one enters a wilderness not to know how to get out, or where it might lead, but to find answers.
Many of us choose, at one time or another, to enter this sort of wilderness, having only a nascent understanding of the physical and mental hardships that might lie ahead. We want and need to test our limits. Our reason for venturing into wilderness is as (or maybe even more) weighted than the anticipated challenges. But there are times that one finds themself in an unanticipated wilderness. Foreign territory—with few answers to pressing questions, no clear path in sight, and limited options. These wildernesses, and our unanticipated and unavoidable wanderings into them are everywhere and every time around us.
And so, in response to the challenges, to the possibilities, to the closing and opening of pathways through unknown forests, we like all humans before us, seek refuge in one form or another—finding small comforts in the protection from the elements, good company, nourishment, and comforting words, as well the pleasures of hypnotic sounds, calming textiles, or soothing smells. Despite the wilderness we find ourselves in, we also find ourselves summoning higher levels of observation and efforts to make sense of what’s around us, attempting to discern what is dangerous, what is useful, and how we might live in such a place. It is here that one might find, if rising to the occasion, an appreciation of the wealth of refuge in the vast wilderness of possibility.
Refuge offers a respite. It necessarily limits input, and output. It narrows the paths forward to those most desired, most viable, and most relevant. In our world full of more options than we can possibly process and sift through, with too many uncertainties, too many unknowns, too many possibilities of losing our way, a very real, very visceral space that presents only what is vital in any sense of the word, can be just what is in order.
It is in precisely these conditions of wilderness and refuge that the elevated ability to make conscious decisions, and take mindful actions, regardless of the ease of the path, can finally, and only if we take advantage of them, be available.
—Steffany