January 26, 2022—I love reading in diverse traditions that offer new or different insights at the interface of self, the role of teacher and the ineffable elements of teaching. A case in point is a book titled “Blue Hole Wisdom” by Bridget McDermott Flood. The text is a rich narrative of the embodied spiritual life of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio, Texas. Centrally located in their faith community is a stone-lined artesian well called the Blue Hole. The Sisters’ motherhouse is 150 years old, but the Blue Hole predates their community. It was an important meeting place and source of spiritual wisdom for Indigenous peoples going back in time before the arrival of Spanish and European settlers. Spiritual energies around the spring are as deep and persistent as the artesian well itself.
An important feature of the well is its relationship to the underground aquifer that feeds it and provides refreshing water to the surrounding land. When rain falls, miles to the north, over the Hill Country the well overflows and spills into the headwaters of the San Antonio River. But at times the rains are sparse, or the subterranean water is captured by human dug wells. And under these circumstances the nourishing water sinks into the deep recesses of the earth, waiting for the conditions to change before bubbling forth again. The ebb and flow of the well is a metaphorical representation of the spiritual connection the Sisters have with the land, the nature of their social justice work, the creation of a soul-full community and their commitment to an abiding Divine presence.
There are many aspects of the Sisters’ relationship to the Blue Hole that I find helpful when considering the nature of teaching and learning. The first takeaway is the importance of having a central belief or conceptual structure around which to anchor practice. The Blue Hole is both an actual feature and a spiritual pivot point for the Sisters. What is the feature or element of your teaching that allows you access to the deep recesses of your call to teach? The Blue Hole is a passageway between two worlds, the below ground and the surface. In the context of teaching I think of this relationship as the inner and outer dimensions of my teacher self. My inner wisdom and understanding would not flow to the surface and inform my practice without a pathway. For me, the way between the two worlds are spiritual disciplines like; meditation, discernment and listening to wisdom not discernable to the ear. What are the features and elements of your Blue Hole? Is it naturally occurring, formed by your hands, or made and maintained by others?
When talking of their call to serve humanity, the Sisters speak of their “charism”. A word that was new to me. The more familiar term charisma means, “compelling attractiveness or charm that can inspire devotion in others”. Charisma is a form of presence that pulls inward and gathers things to itself. In contrast, the Sisters note that “charism is a gift—not a possession. It is a gift to be shared and passed on to future generations. The charism comes from the Spirit. People grow to recognize that in themselves.” Charism, like the Blue Hole itself, spreads out and away from the source, freely nourishing all that it touches. One’s charism is developed over time through conversation, community and connections. Like the waters flowing from the Blue Hole, the charism of a teacher feeds the hungry hearts, minds and souls of students. It does not impose; it offers and invites through its authenticity. What is the nature of your charism? In what ways do your colleagues invite you to more fully understand and share your charism? Where are the deep energies of your teacher-self going after they bubble up and spill over the lip of your well?
Another important feature of the Blue Hole, when drawing parallels to the practice of teaching, is the dynamic nature of the well. It is consistent and trustworthy but not predictable and it is subject to human wants and wishes. The Blue Hole will flow, but only in accordance with the natural rhythms of the earth. What consistently binds your practice together while remaining open and free? Do you find it liberating or constraining to contemplate the possibility that the wellspring of your creativity and passion for teaching might appear dry and withdrawn at times? What does it feel like when the waters flow again?
Historic records and stories from Indigenous peoples tell that at times, under the right conditions, the deep forces in the earth would push water 20 feet into the air. Imagine the sense of abundance that was showered freely around the landscape. The sense of mystery and majesty associated with the life-giving waters. But this spectacular display was before human dug wells and industrial pumps that extracted the underground waters moving through porous layers feeding the Blue Hole. Now when the waters return after a dry spell they gently spill over the edge of the well and into the headwaters of the river. The ability of the spring to replenish the headwaters of the river is lessened by human want, need and self-interest.
There is a lesson here, I think, for all educators to consider. The wellspring of the call and passion to teach, like the waters of the Blue Hole, can be interrupted by human intervention. The source of wisdom deep in the heart and soul of the teacher must be protected and cared for. It is limitless but it can be siphoned off in ways that diminish its capacity to faithfully water the educational countryside. The hand dug institutional wells dotting the land include the commodification of knowledge, teacher accountability frameworks that are punitive, standardized curriculum with little room for imagination and innovation, and salaries that are often lower than the teacher’s level of professionalism and commitment to learners. What are the wells drawing down your deep source of wisdom? Which ones are necessary and important to the wider purpose of education and which are not? How many of these wells did you dig to spread your charism around to a wider audience? Which wells should you stop up or reduce the amount of spiritual water you are pumping out?
I find the Blue Hole an inviting metaphor for exploring the inner dimensions of my call to teach. I invite you to consider the wisdom the Blue Hole offers you in your journey of teaching.
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