We have explored the ancient, historical grove of Greek landscapes. We have considered the Grove at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Gwinnett–the actual grove outside of the building, in the woods, as well as the grove that we have created inside our sanctuary. We have considered the metaphorical dynamics of the Grove in sacred stories and how they stand as those places where we bring a domesticated human life back into the Presence of the Wild Ones often resulting in transformation and restoration.
If we can perceive the Grove in all of these contexts, it only remains to examine how the Grove shows up inside of us within our internal landscapes of mind, imagination and soul. Don’t we find so much of ourselves is what family and culture have shaped us to be? Have we not become very largely domesticated human beings because we do, say and even learn to feel (or not feel) what others need us to do say and feel? Domesticated cities and towns of people are made up of just such domesticated human beings.
Perhaps there are moments of quiet reflection or even surprising moments that seem to come out of the blue in which we discover in ourselves that Wild Child that we always have been. The Wild Child may be playful, or daring. The Wild Child may say or do things that in our domestication we would never dare to do or say. The Wild Child may tell a truth that we have known but been unwilling to see or say.
Those moments when our domesticated selves come face to face with the Wild Child are the Grove that exists within us–a sacred place of personal truth, wisdom and healing. How one arrives at that internal Grove varies, but I suspect that most of us have had glimpses of the Wild Child that we are, and we know, if we give ourselves a little time to enter it, the way to meeting the Wild Child more completely. Once we do that, though, there is no going back to any sort of ignorance that the Wild Child exists.
These encounters in The Grove always change us. They show us a truth. They create a wisdom. They offer a healing.
Bob Patrick
