Looking Back at the Sacred

I was inspired by Suleika Jaouad's Substack entry this week. She looked at the past year "through sacred lenses." Read her entry here.

Looking back on 2025, there are so many sacred moments to remember ... beginning with the privilege of my adventure of retirement. I am amazed at being able to spend as much time on daily rituals as I would like. Drinking coffee, feeding the birds, walking the dogs, meditating, gardening, creating -- these practices that ground me in this present moment.

In particular, JJ and I have been driving several times a week over to the greenway for a 2-mile walk on the path that follows Mill Creek. We have joined a rich community of morning walkers and are happy to have been accepted into this unexpected family. We are especially fond of "the Chihuahua clan" - two humans and four dogs who jog on the trail, none wearing leashes. (JJ says, "You can do that?!?!?!) Watching the seasons turn there is a special gift.

In late May, my brother Charlie and I took a road trip from Tennessee to Colorado to open up the family cabin for the summer. We stopped for a few nights in Oklahoma to visit friends. We drove down to Sulphur, the little town where we lived when I was 4 to 8 years old. (Charlie was 2-6 during those years.) We drove just outside of town and had brunch with Mary Lou DeFratus Heltzel, who was our baby sitter all those years ago and has returned to the ranch in her retirement.

We stopped by the cemetery where our parents, our Wilson grandparents, and various aunts and uncles are buried. After we found the graves and put out some flowers, we learned that if we had come a day later, we could have gotten in on the Memorial Day weekend bash, including free hot dogs and hamburgers. (Maybe another year!)

Once we got to the cabin, we started cleaning and doing projects (channeling Grandpa Tom Wilson). Our brother Thomas came up for two nights. That was the first time that the three of us have been together without other family members. Such a rich time of sharing memories and stories.

In July I traveled to the Seattle area to the new home of my dear friend, Amy. While in the area, I visited with my aunt, uncle, and cousin in the Port Townsend area. There is such beauty and mystery in that part of the world.

In October I was a faculty presenter for the Oklahoma Five-Day Academy for Spiritual Formation. (My first time in the role of presenter.) My topic was "Staying Grounded in the Wilderness." The retreat was held at Canyon Camp, the camp I grew up attending as a youth. This is the place where I was formed as a church leader. The ground was hallowed by the steps of all those saints who walked there and shaped us.

As a part of my presentations, I led the group in singing a number of musical pieces I have written. It is always so amazing to hear my music come to life. We sang one of my new pieces during the worship services that week. The words are: "Make us loving, make us kind. Make us gentle, make us strong. We are sowers, we are seed. Scattering hope and gathering joy." Listen:

In December I traveled to Saint John's United Methodist Church in Austin, TX. I led a workshop on Saturday and then preached and presided over the Eucharist on Sunday morning. I was hosted by my dear friends from college, Mary Len and Tom Stanton.

At both of these events, I practiced my intention in retirement -- to be all of who I am ... everywhere I am. I told the story of my life -- including my early days as a LGBTQ+ organizer for Affirmation and RMN. You can watch my Saint John's sermon here.

I was able to continue my artistic activities this year, enjoying workshops at Art & Soul in Nashville. Creating connects me to my spirit.

As this year comes to a close, I'm so grateful for life, for my family here in Nashville. For friends and fellow travelers across the world. I do believe that the Holy One is with us in these difficult times -- we are beloved. And we are not alone.

Bless to me these people and interactions, the things I've seen and done. Bless to me the memories and experiences. As this calendar year turns, may our presence in the world be a blessing to the earth and to those we meet.