Spiraling

“A good spiritual life connects us to where we come from, even in the midst of where we are now…It’s about reaching back to remember who we are even while we keep on becoming more than we were.” —Joan Chittister

2025, for me, will go down as The Year of the Spiral. Almost exactly one year ago, my church/work launched our Year of Gratitude, and I set out to create a logo we could use to encapsulate it. I discovered in the process that the most cross-culturally recognized symbol for gratitude around the world is a spiral, and whether God was sending me a specific message or my consciousness simply opened to the image already in motion around me (most likely a bit of both), I began to see spirals everywhere.

I already knew on an academic level that the spiral shape occurs constantly throughout nature. From the tiniest elements (double-helix DNA, spiral bacteria, snail shells, fern fronds) to the largest (whirlpools, tornadoes, hurricanes, galaxies), spirals undergird all of creation all of the time. More specific to me in the last year, spirals showed up in spiritual places: my first ever labyrinth walk, stories in multiple forms, my favorite image of The Hero’s Journey, and most powerfully, a provocative new understanding of time and the liturgical calendar (inspired by the Hero’s Journey and reinforced by Joan Chittister’s book, The Liturgical Year: The Spiraling Adventure of the Spiritual Life).

My experience of time has always been more cyclical/circular than linear, and until this turn of events (pun well intended), I can see that I had gotten undeniably bored with it: It’s Friday…again. Happy New Year…again. Happy birthday…again. How is it Christmas already…again? Each week, month, and year had taken on a rhythm that was, at best, comfortable in a routine or even sleepy way and at worst, tiresome. I’m not alone in that, either; I can’t tell you how many pastors and other church workers I’ve heard lament about how difficult it is to come up with something “new” to offer about the Christmas and Easter stories each year. And of course we’re tired. Viewed as a closed circle, even the holiest pursuits will inevitably burn us out (hamster wheels have a negative connotation for a reason).

Spirals, on the other hand are dynamic. They consist of solid lines and negative space in tension, and they constantly move in multiple directions, challenging us to move with them. Flowing outward, we embark on our solemn calling to connectedness with God’s presence in all people and creation; flowing inward, we explore ever more fearlessly the Spirit’s work in us and our connection to/care for ourselves (for more on all of this, check out The Very Good Gospel by Lisa Sharon Harper—big recommend!). Spiraling upward, we gain perspective on the more of life and our place in it; deeper, and we plumb the mysteries of wisdom and truth beyond the superficial and diverting.

We are not and have never been in a closed circle. The seasons give us structure and remembrance and rhythm, but redundancy is a red flag; each occurrence of a season must be different because we are different each time we arrive at it. There’s always something new to see, because we are always being made new in our walk with God on the Way.

This is Good News!