By Liv Holloway

I am made to engage life deeply

inviting others to go there with me

I remember when I first wrote it down. It was fresh off the heels of the pandemic crashing over our lives, wrestling and weaving together some semblance of a wrought-out "mission statement." Not totally known to me then, I was and am an Enneagram 4w5 – a person of depth and reflection, with a capacity for all sorts of emotions and processing and discerning. I believe it was Morgan Harper Nichols who penned about being called to "a life beyond the shore," and that spoke to me. For me, I couldn't survive in a world full of pleasantries and small-talk (at least not for long). I knew there was a pull in me to share and connect to the layers and complexities of life. To stay with MHN's imagery, I knew my wiring was made for the deeper, and perhaps even darker waters of uncertainty and questioning, noticing and naming. 

I used to be plagued by thoughts that harmed more than helped. It took me years to identify and name the kinds of things I was saying in my head, especially to myself. I've existed in environments that didn't necessarily make space for all that I felt, so I wrote and wrestled on the pages of notebooks and MySpace notes (lol). Different ideas and opinions of mine showed up, sometimes sideways, as I worked out what I truly thought. Somewhere along the way, I was taught to not listen to myself, not trust what I have to say, and take the words of the powerful and pastoral as capital-T Truth. Where is there space for thoughts when those we listen to already supposedly thought everything through? 

suddenly

there was less wondering 

and more whipping into shape 

the things that did occur to me; 

anything 

that didn't line up 

with the way one was "supposed to" think 

was deemed 

an unwise use of time – 

so I figured, why waste mine? 

I exchanged the thinking-deeply life 

for falling in line.

The truth is, I've always had thoughts – questions and observations, feelings and insights, most of which I didn't know what to do with. Some swirled and some sank, but some rose to the surface and wanted to make their way to others, to create that sense of connection, a resounding in the souls of those who knew that was true for them, too. There is a spark that is set aflame when words begin to form, showing what someone else may have always wanted to say. I guess that's why I was always drawn to music, not necessarily for the musicianship (even though that matters immensely) but lyrically. I can't tell you how many times, especially in seasons of great isolation and confusion, I've been comforted by the words that someone dared to pen, to write, and to be made into something shared. Words not kept to themselves, but released as a means to make meaning. 

so what if we

resolved

to release?

to free up what wells up,

these deep waters and dark places?

Just like the Maker of the universe decreed: mountains rose and valleys sank. The Creator found it fit to set a boundary around the depths – that the rest of the earth would not be overwhelmed. 

Perhaps we're created similarly.

Certainly, deep only calls to deep. Some people and spaces may not be able to dive into all you might think. As one of my favorite artists says, "Some hearts are built on a floodplain." Those of us called to these things may be flooded, with onlookers wondering why we wouldn't just opt for higher ground. Some may wonder why it's worth it to dive in, to swim, to tread upon what's hurting or in need of healing.

But can you imagine a world without water? 

The rushes of rivers and the vastness of the ocean, a refreshing drink or evening afloat, submersed and surrounded by its fullness. 

what if part

of why we're caught

in the swell and swirl

is to, in part

unfold and unfurl

its immensity

and intensity

There is a way with water like there is with words – and there are ways we might be called to be submerged.

To those of us drawn to the depths of life, let's take a plunge. We can dare to dive into what might be too dark or difficult for others, and at the very same time do it for those that may not have the capacity or clarity to. 

what might we 

bring up from the depths? 

what is it

that needs to be said? 

let what we see 

be the kind of refreshment 

and relief 

an evening dip in the sea 

might bring 

the ways that we 

wrestle and reflect 

are not a curse but a stream, 

continuously 

flowing to, through, and under 

where and what needs nourishing

Liv Holloway

livholloway.com

Called to the depths. Living in Minneapolis.

You can connect with Olivia on Instagram at @liv.holloway