Saint Francis, and why he inspired me to take off my clothes.

On this Saint Francis day, I reflect on how Saint Francis streaking story, in some ways, parallels my own. Although, I didn’t get naked in front of a crowd! After Saint Francis own life changing experiences, he renounced who he was and stripped down as a symbol of becoming someone new. The story is layered and powerful, but his nakedness was a  symbol of the death of what was and the birth of the new. Many years ago I had a similar experience…

I found myself at a point in my life where I had just gotten on the other side of the most difficult years I had ever experienced. I grew up in evangelical Christianity and my faith was deeply shaken when I suddenly and rapidly woke up to some of the exclusionary lies I believed. So many of the things I believed in were falling off of me at a rate I couldn’t keep up with. Although I felt myself becoming more free than ever, I was also losing some of the foundation I had stood on for most of my life, which was destabilizing. My belief system was shifting and expanding, and could no longer exclude. Then a dear friend of mine died by suicide and it broke our hearts not only for him but for my best friend and her kids… I woke up to the fragility of life in a way I had never known before. It deeply shook our community. Then Sean and I went through a season where I was challenging some of the dynamics of our marriage, mostly as a result of my shifting religious foundation, which was not easy for either of us (especially him). Then my dad got sick, which changed everything. We ushered him into death with shattered hearts, tired eyes, weak bodies, and confused minds. All the while he was gifting us as we were both knowingly and unknowingly awakening to the meaning of life in profound ways. Love became more important than ever as pain gave life a new perspective… It felt like years of big blows, one after another.

A few months after my dad’s death, Sean, the kids, and I were on a roadtrip in Big Sur. While deeply depleted, I felt a sense of release. I felt like I had been drowning, and I was coming up for air. I cried a lot on that road. A release was happening. A turn. I still had much pain ahead, as we all do, but I felt the waves that had been holding me under had passed. I felt it in my body.

As we drove on the cliffs of Big Sur the day turned to night. I rolled down my window and felt the breeze on my face, I gazed up at the stars and listened to the crashing of the waves. I contemplated the past few years… The wild rollercoaster. The dark and light. The immense changes in who I was.

After all of that, I had been made new. Refined and remolded in the fires of death. Death of what my faith had been. Death of what my ideas of life were. Death of what my marriage was. Death of my father. Death of my old self. And after all that, I was still here. I was alive.

I asked Sean to pull the car over on the side of the cliff so I could get out and take in the moment. I felt drawn to take off my clothes. To stand naked, to strip myself of everything, as a marker, a symbol of releasing the past and stepping into the new. It was my very own Saint Francis moment.

I told Sean what I wanted to do, so he found me a private spot along the cliff. He may not always understand why I do things, but he is quick to support me. I started to take off my clothes and a small voice from the back of the car said, “mommy, what are you doing?” I looked back and smiled. “I’m going to stand naked in the moonlight.” “Why?” She said. “Because I want to.” I whispered while smiling. She giggled and said “ok mommy.”

Naked, I got out of the car and walked over to the edge of the cliff, and looked out at the crashing waves. I took some deep breaths, and let out some big exhales. It was beautiful. I didn’t mind that it was cold. This moment felt special, sacred. I stood there and opened my hands and arms to the sky. The moon reflected off my back and reminded me that I was alive. After all that death, I was alive.

I now sit here early in the morning, remembering that day. Touching the moon tattoo I got on my back to memorialize that moment. Smiling. It’s been years, and I’m still here.

We all grow and change. Everything dies, and when it does something new is born. No one knows who they will be, and what the world will be in time… We cannot control death, both the physical and spiritual deaths we all face, but we can surrender to its movements and open to its presence. We can stand naked in the light of the moon and both grieve our losses and open to the new life that surely will come.