The Weaver

Creating a tapestry of faith

By evita Walsh Duarte
May 2002

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I am a weaver at a loom, my chair is Catholic and into my tapestry I weave threads from various faiths and beliefs.

I find strength and comfort in my inner monologue to God. Sometimes I have to quiet myself out of tiredness, nervousness or whatever, as my askings or thanksgivings become like a broken record, losing all real significance.

During this last little while, spotlights of my intuitive spirit, my emotional dimensions, have drawn from friends and others to nourish itself and grow. Things have emerged from there and led me to also include journal writing as a spiritual exercise and need.

At class the other night, my attention perked as activities like dancing or hiking, or admiring a bird singing or the wind blowing through the trees, were explained as forms of thanksgiving prayer. This type of prayer we were told is necessary for balance as one learns to let go of self-consciousness and tap into the broader creative Source of the universe.

Every now and then I throw comments of thanks to God, or pray out loud with friends, satisfying a thirst instilled in me during my Catholic schooling. Once, too, with the conviction of making it a custom, we did group meditation, trying to tune into what we imagined as positive, healing energies—Mother Earth grounding us, all-embracing.

A friend led this meditation in a time when some of us were at a pit’s rock bottom. Ugly times calmed by inches of peace and a sense of support from coalescing imaginations of life.

Energy flows, and out of sheer delight in re-inventing the wheel (rather than classifying it or calling it by traditional names), I like to refer to this Energy as life, love, birds, trees, people, moments, time, tears falling down a face... the list goes on.

Being born into a Catholic family, I was surrounded by the Christian faith. Great dimensions of it flashed at me through my missionary parents and their friends, or through the odd sermon at mass, or school meditation. But the core of me, though swimming in Christianity, still would not immerse itself in it.

Presently I notice myself using parables and metaphors from the gospel to advise or comfort friends. In the future I imagine an urgent undertaking sprouting from within to explore and delve into Christianity at full. But this is now the truth that I am living.

In the commandment of many faiths—love oneself and others—awe-robic exercises play a role, admiring surroundings, as well as volunteering through a local social service agency. The topic of religion never reaches the tips of our tongues at the agency, but it is evident that the agency overflows with energizing Energy.

All in all, talking candidly and sincerely with friends is a favourite form of expression of my beliefs, challenging and nurturing my soul, comforting it. We explore any curiosity in our minds, blurting it out and talking it over. We encounter difficulties and misunderstanding (a given) and talk these over as well. We play toss with compliments, curiosities and dreams, being great playmates and, often unknowingly, great spiritual companions to each other.

Evita Walsh is one of four children of Tom and Julia Duarte Walsh, Scarboro lay missionaries who served in Peru, Panama and now in Ecuador.

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