Coming Home

By Jim Norgaard

My first journey out to Beaver Island in the Spring of 1995 was intuitive. I had heard about this place called America’s “Emerald Isle” with its Irish settlers and mysterious “stone circle.” What a natural destination for me—a student of the sacred earth ways of the Celts—to explore. To my great surprise I returned from my first few visits bewildered and amazed: I was now the unintended landowner of 20 breathtaking acres just south of the circle of stones. For the past 8 years I have lead spiritual retreats to this site, and will soon open a spiritual counseling center on our land. What amazes me most though is that I am preparing to live out the mysteries of my elder years in this place.

I was just 45 years young when I first visited the island in 1995. I could still delight in running swiftly through the woods, barefoot, on the soft sandy trails through the forests. Now I am 54 years. Four years ago my knees began to speak: “Your time of running has passed.” I listened, and haven’t thus far opted for any surgeries to “correct” the situation. Instead I move more slowly through the forest on my travels. So here begins my tale, the adventure of my aging on the sacred ground of Beaver Isle.

I must say first that I am no expert on the aging process, just an interested and aware observer. I have worked in nursing homes for sure, and most recently I delivered “Meals on Wheels” to elders in my town. I have seen that aging is not easy, even for those young in spirit. I suspect though that we suffer most when we have never really greeted this process with awareness, never moved consciously through life’s stages of preparation. This is not “our fault”; it’s just that we have lost our cultural bearings for what this journey is all about. I offer these reflections with this in mind.

A hospice worker once told me that she had observed the deepest suffering in those who were carrying “unfinished business”—the pain of unhealed relationships—with them to their graves. I took note of this, and at age 50 I phoned, forgave and apologized to those whom I still held resentments towards for “past wrongs done.” Some responded with appreciation, while others were surprised and kept their distance. It did not matter to me though. When I hung up after completing my task I was in tears: all I could say was “free at last.”

We are all well aware of the quest in America today to “stay forever young” using cosmetics, “make-overs,” and special anti-aging diets. I think that a deeper look into the aging adventure would soothe this desire, for to me it is a great and wonderful mystery to move towards death. I’ve chosen not to dye my hair, recalling a Buddhist who once said “death comes first to frost our hair with its silver honoring.”

As Americans of Euro-Celtic descent, we all share an ancient bond with our Indo-European cousins from India today. If we listen closely we can hear it in the music and the language of India and Ireland, we can find similarities in the arts and the wisdom traditions they share. Recognizing this, I marvel but am not surprised at how the 4 Hindu stages of life fit so closely with my own:

1. Student or “brahmachari,” 12-24 years. This is the time of our nurturing and initiation, when our teachers and mentors help us learn to think independently for ourselves.
   
   
2. Householder or “grihastha,” 24-48 years. This is the time when we learn to love, to give of ourselves, and to sacrifice. When we realize that marriage and relationships really exist to teach us these qualities, we can better greet the challenges that intimacy brings.
   
   
3. Forest dweller or “vanaprastha,”48-72 years. This is when we enter the spirit of detachment and dispossession, even as we still live amidst our possessions. My imminent move to Beaver Island and our small house in the forest is a quiet shifting away from the “main stage” of human endeavors. It will require that I pare down my possessions and relinquish some of my entertainments and distractions. I both fear and look forward to these changes. The “forest dweller” stage is also one of general service to humankind. I hope my work with Celtic Body Prayers, peaceful communities, and spiritual counseling will be a growing measure of my own service. For both my wife and I, our move towards the island and nature is a return home to the very ground of our being.
   
   Some say that spiritual liberation (“moksha”) can be reached during this “forest dweller stage,” but for others a further adventure awaits . . .
   
   
4. Beggar saint or “sannyasin,” beyond 72 years. This is when a person may choose to “walk about” relinquishing their home, family, and possessions, journeying closer to God. I take all these stages as rough templates only, approximations rather than “rules” for illuminating our lives.

Here at home a retired nurse told me that her elder years were concerned with three main endeavors: sorting through and letting go of her worldly possessions, accepting her physical limitations, and focusing on those friends and activities that were most meaningful to her now. This made sense to me. When we are young our natural task is to taste widely from the cup of life, casting outwards from the center of the spiral into ever widening circles of experience. When we age though we often choose less stimulation. We tend to bring our experiences “back home” to the center of our spiral.
But aging is no tame, bland, or hopeless experience. To me it is our greatest adventure, a return home inwards to the divine wild nature of our souls. The Celts knew all about this. Contemporary Irish poet philosopher druid John O’Donohue, in his wonderful books and tapes, teaches us today about the wild nature of our souls. And then there is my own father, 86 years old with Parkinson’s disease and “dementia.” He came to the breakfast table the other day deeply in wonder. The greens of the valley he lives in appear more vibrant to him now than ever before. He looked around the breakfast table beaming with joy, commenting on the junk mail to his right, the birthday cards to his left, and me beside him saying: “I have all of this here, and I’m overwhelmed. I’m confused. No, I’m not confused, I’m bewildered.” I knew that Dad was not “demented or confused” at all, but that the wild “bewildered” spirit in him was calling him back home.

Jim Norgaard is a peace activist, life coach, and student of the Celtic spirit. He is moving out to Beaver Island this summer, where he will continue leading retreats and working as a spirit-coach at his new retreat center.