Everyday Ignatian is a series written by guest contributors, chronicling their daily lives and experiences through the lens of Ignatian spirituality.
When we returned to the conference room after dinner, the space felt different. Overhead lights had been turned off in favor of an assortment of floor and table lamps, while our conference tables had been pushed aside to make room for a semicircle of couches and armchairs arranged around two microphones and several amps. After more than a day together, I sensed that our group of artists, gathered to celebrate and contemplate the ties that bind our creativity and spirituality at the Ignatian Creators Summit, was in for a unique, and possibly transformative, experience of music, conversation, community and prayer.
As my friends settled into their seats, I made sure to find a place in the front row. Not being a musician myself, I am always eager for the opportunity to watch people play instruments up close. The skill feels mysterious to me — a rare combination of athleticism and artistry — and I experience wonder and awe each time I witness it live.
After a few opening songs from fellow summit participant singer-songwriter Jessica Gerhardt, folk musicians Nick Gunty and Chris Dupont took to our homespun stage. The comfort that comes from many years of knowing someone was evident between Nick and Chris immediately. With a shared glance and a synchronized breath, they began to play and sing evocative songs of hope, love and mystery. In between his original songs, Nick shared interludes of spiritual reading and reflections, but I found myself particularly drawn to the way that Chris accompanied Nick. Even though I am not a musician, my faith still calls me to accompany those around me in other ways, most often through hard times in their lives. I wondered if there were any lessons I could learn about accompanying others by observing one musician accompany another.
Get Close
The first thing I noticed was that Nick and Chris sat close to each other, so close that their knees were touching. Thinking about it now, I wonder if that physical contact helped Chris be more attuned to Nick’s movements: his breath, his shifts of weight, his pauses. In my own life, I know it is much easier for me to accompany someone if I am physically close to them. Most often that looks like accompanying my children as they experience the joys and challenges of growing up. But that could also look like visiting a loved one for a day or two or driving by a neighbor’s house or even taping a friend’s photo to the refrigerator where I will see it every day. This closeness is a constant reminder to look outside myself and to notice and respond to another’s need.
Pay Attention
During the concert, Chris paid close attention to Nick, spending more time looking at his friend than the guitar in his hands or the music on the stand. From the moment the duo took the stage, it was clear that Chris was there to support Nick. There was no vying for the spotlight: when Nick spoke about the spirituality of music in between songs, Chris didn’t interrupt him, finish his sentences or add his two cents. He listened carefully, nodded along and allowed Nick to be the star of the show.
When a loved one is going through a hard time, I am tempted to swoop in and save the day with a nourishing meal or a perfectly crafted message of support. But the truth is that when someone is suffering, they are the hero of their own journey. No matter how much we might know and love them, the person we are accompanying must forge their own path through the season they are in. Watching Chris accompany Nick convinced me that it is okay to allow someone to be the protagonist in their own story. Sometimes simply remaining close and paying attention can be more helpful than air-dropping supplies in the name of support.
Respond Well
Because he was close and paying attention, Chris was able to respond to Nick in a quick and appropriate way. Whether it was adjusting the setting on an amp, sharing a capo or a pick, or simply ending the song at the right time, Chris showed me that accompanying someone does involve action. The action is not imposed but offered in response to a carefully observed need. While making and dropping off a meal might feel great, it’s possible that a suffering loved one is already drowning in casseroles. Perhaps what they really need is someone to mow their lawn or pick their kids up from school. I’ve realized that I will only know what to offer someone if I take the time to get close and pay attention to the particulars of their situation.
In my own life, when I have experienced suffering or uncertainty, the people who have stayed close, paid attention and responded well to my needs have been beacons of hope who buoyed me to calmer shores. In those tumultuous moments, it was hard for me to discern exactly what they were doing to accompany me; all I could feel was the relief of having someone by my side. In the sacred space of the Ignatian Creators Summit, my heart and mind were open to these lessons in accompaniment, which I continue to contemplate and carry into my roles as wife, mother, daughter, artist and friend today. I firmly believe that walking with each other in these small but intentional ways is the best hope we have for creating a more compassionate and peaceful world.
- When has someone accompanied you well through a difficult time? Consider reaching out and thanking them today.
- Who in your immediate sphere of influence is suffering today? What practical steps could you take this week to get close, pay attention and respond to them well?
