The Medicine of Place Steven Chase We finished editing this issue of Spiritus about the time I came across a little book of poetry in the form of epigrams and "easy essays" by J. Vincent Hansen with earthy photographs by Chuck Norwood.1 In the book, Hansen and Norwood explore wisdom and healing in forms akin to Karl Jung's poetic insight that "fascination is the oldest form of healing, and the earth is the oldest form of fascination": medicine and place. We had no intention of a cohesive theme in this issue; apparently the least of intentions can create a cohort of the best of intentions; a theme, or I should say, "themes" developed. In his justifiably well-known and respected book, The Poetics of Space,2 Gaston Bachelard writes of his intentions for the book, intentions that awaken the soul. And so, we find that the essays of this issue do the same: in this case, without intention, they awaken the soul. Bachelard writes: I plan to concentrate particularly on poetic reverie as a phenomenology of the soul. In itself, reverie constitutes a psychic condition that is too frequently confused with dream. But when it is a question of poetic reverie, of reverie that derives pleasure not only from itself, but also prepares poetic pleasure for other souls, one realizes that one is no longer drifting into somnolence. The mind is able to relax, but in poetic reverie the soul keeps watch, with no tension, watching, calmed and active. To compose a finished, well-constructed poem, the mind is obliged to make projects that prefigure it. But for a simple poetic image, there is no project; a flicker of the soul is all that is needed. In this issue's essays, the mind can be both calm and active analogous to the poetic reverie of Bachelard's phenomenology of the soul. We did not explicitly intend this, but the writers of the essays, also with no inclusive intention of their own, do manage to calm and activate the mind, allowing that flicker of the soul to illuminate the poetry of the medicine of place. One poetic soul-flicker reads, "Wisdom returns—not to stay but to retrieve." (Hansen, 1) At the end of his SSCS Presidential Address on biblical aesthetics and revelation, Pieter de Viellers writes: "Aesthetics, it is suggested here, provides a [End Page vii] way back into the heart of the biblical message as a living source of faith"—its soul-flicker is a way back to the heart, that like wisdom, returns not to stay, but to retrieve. Beauty residesat the intersection ofHarmony and Utility. (Hansen, 49) In her essay on Henri Nouwen, Ann Astell notes that commentators on Nouwen's life and writing often treat his commitment to celibacy narrowly, as a necessary aspect of his priesthood. She writes, "In his essay 'Celibacy,' however, Nouwen actually argues for an expansive understanding of celibacy with important implications for all Christians, married and unmarried, straight and gay." As Nouwen sees it, "'Celibacy' is an openness to God of which sexual abstinence is only one manifestation." To what avail the allying ofoneself with a hundred causes,while the thistle in one's own backyard goes to seed? (Hansen, 137) How smallthe part of our wearinessthat cannot be tracedto having gone aroundthe things we shouldhave been above. (Hansen, 152) Kathleen Fisher writes of the life of Saint Brigid, showing how ancient animals provide a moral and theological corrective to environmental exploitation. She notes, "Brigid's animal companions provoke us to reexamine our place in the universe. The menagerie of foxes, wolves, and dogs all witness to God's work of continuous creation and remind us that humanity is not the only or single best source of divine revelation." How one's soul does ache nowfor those places that invite whisper. (Hansen, 101) Surely none but a God on our sidewould place so many cluesin plain view. (Hansen, 85) [End Page viii] In his essay on integral ecology as ecological spirituality, Jean-Pierre Fortin mines Pope Francis' Laudato Si', concluding that "Human beings must learn to conceive...