THE SACRED ORDINARY: THE ODYSSEY OF A NINETY-ONE-YEAR-OLD CONTEMPLATIVE

by Urashan, John Schelling Pollock (Editor)

From the This is a book that’s not about one thing, such as old stories, or spirituality, or how to think, or how to feel better. This is my life, ninety-one years of it. It is what I was and what I have become—my ancestral roots, the family I grew up with, the family I nourished, the places that nourished me; it is what I explored—how I became a contemplative, the music I heard, the visions I saw, what I dreamed, how I’ve lived as a woman during nine decades of this evolution of our culture. It is about dying—giving up embodied spirit—which, like art and music, is all at once wholly sensuous, physical, and spiritual. I have written this remembrance like music, a conversation of ideas, fragments, little flashes of illumination—juxtaposed, alluded to, reverberating, entangled, intertwining like counterpoint, always changing—heard in new context with richer meaning, transformed. It is a story-poem, using stories the way poets use words. It is about the way of the sacred ordinary. It is about how I loved. It is about how I love. Skip what you will. Don’t agree with me. Go look for yourself. Live your own sacred ordinary. Remember. Remember who you are. — Urashan

439 pages, Paperback

Published November 12, 2019

Reviews

[Dizzy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I devoured Urashan’s book of her life experiences. Her book is not a complete life story nor written as an autobiography, it’s her heartfelt stories of a life well lived in a place that I know well. I feel a connection to her. I had never met Urashan, nor those in her social circle. I actually read her obituary and thought she sounded interesting so I ordered her book on Amazon. Her words give me joy and a sense of peace. I lived on Whidbey for 14yrs until illness forced me to sell my island home & move away. I know of the gulls, rain, skies, beaches, ferries, sand, even the light of which she speaks. My upbringing was so different from hers, yet I can fully envision the life she lived. I’m envious of her childhood that fed her intellectually and gave her such freedom. I LOVED this book! Life changing for me. I now know in my heart that someday I will return to Whidbey whether in this life or when my ashes are to be scattered near Ebey Landing.
Thank you Urashan. I know you are smiling while you play in the waters of Puget Sound. RIP ❤️

[Penelope · Rating 4 out of 5]

Urushan writes not so much the story of a life as the story of what can be made of a life. We know that in her case there was great love, many children, fervent work done well, brilliance, intricacy of thought and imagination, and that she lived in certain places, some of them beautiful and wild. We also know that she suffered a lack of love from her mother, that in spite of great capacity her educational years were fraught, her husband seemingly a puer aeternus, and her work and creative contribution were seriously undervalued. What we don't read of are the gritty, grounding details that might be expected in a memoir. Urushan's thoughts in the late years of her life fly inward, seaward, lightward, heavenward, seldom dwelling long on the mundane encounter or task.
Astrologically speaking it might be said that by the time she wrote her story, she was well immersed in the final house of the wheel, the Piscean realm, which those who age well can expect to enter. The author's ecstatic flights, her visions and epiphanies, are gorgeously expressed, however they remained for this reader somewhat intangible. Those more resonant with Urushan's deeply mystical cast will doubtless grasp them and revel.