If there is one word I’d use to describe most people I know, it’s “tired.” Even as ‘work-life balance’ and ‘self-care’ have become buzzwords, and the pandemic caused a dramatic reduction in people’s activities, it seems we are all exhausted. Something is critically wrong with how we manage our energy. This is interesting, since we also have a dangerously unhealthy relationship with energy in the wider world, where we are using more and more fossil fuels and electricity despite a generation of work to make things more energy efficient. Since nothing happens without energy, and everything can, in some way, be boiled down to being about energy, it’s no surprise that it features prominently in permaculture design as well. And this is the topic of today’s post: to see if its insights about energy might inform our life of faith.
One of Holmgren’s 12 Permaculture Principles is “Catch and store energy.”* As Tim Sonder notes, “Energy is fleeting and essential for life systems and society. Capture it now, so you can use it (or have it) later. This is the true meaning of conservation.” Thought of this way, everything is about energy: Photosynthesis is a process of capturing and storing the sun’s energy; harvesting fruits and vegetables is a process of taking this stored energy, which we eat (providing energy for daily life), store or preserve (conserving it for later use), or sell (exchanging it for money, which is itself a kind of energy that can be spent on goods and services.) It stands to reason then that paying attention to how energy — in all its forms — flows within a system is an integral part of permaculture thinking and design.
Some ways energy capture, storage, and flow are incorporated in permaculture include obvious things like solar panels, wind turbines, and water wheels, but also in maintaining rich, healthy soils, and in capturing water in raised containers, allowing it to flow naturally through gravitation rather than needing pumping. When thinking energy conservation, permaculturalists operate on the principle that we should keep the things we use the most closest to hand in order to reduce energy loss in transportation (a principle called Zone Analysis). The principle of maximum use, which we’ll look at more in a future post, is also a way of conserving energy in the broad way we’re defining it here. This principle states that we find as many uses for something as possible before considering it waste. For example, if you eat a chicken, the principle of maximum use involves not only eating all of the meat, but also using the carcass to make stock, and then, if possible, composting the remains to feed back into the soil. This example demonstrates two helpful points about energy in systems: First, the goal is not to create more and more energy, but equilibrium: A healthy system is sustainable because its outputs and inputs of energy are balanced. And second, it always involves transformation and change (solar energy is stored in grain, which is eaten by the chicken, which I consume (meat) and capture (broth), before returning it to the earth as nutrients in compost). The equilibrium is therefore not static but dynamic.
So then, when thinking about energy in systems, we need to consider ideas like capture, storage, flow, zones, maximizing use, equilibrium, and transformation. All of these ideas can inform our life of faith as well. (This can be as ‘woo woo’ or as practical as you want it to be, depending on your beliefs — the principles are the same either way.) In a lot of ways, they can be applied literally, since so much of spirituality is in our relationship with the world around us, our resources, and possessions. (The principle of maximum use seems particularly important today!) But, they can also be applied to things we more often think about in terms of spirituality. Here are some general thoughts about how these ideas might work spiritually:
- Capture: For me, this is about inputs: Where does the energy in my spiritual life come from? On a practical level, this can involve things like ensuring I get enough rest, eat well, and get exercise so that my mind and body have energy to engage with the life of faith. But I can also think about other inputs as well: What am I taking in in terms of books and other media? What am I learning? What investments am I making in my life of faith and community of faith? What activities energize me spirituality, and which ones drain me? Once we have a sense of where the energy is coming from, we can think through how to harness it.
- Storage: When I think about storing spiritual energy, I often think of Jesus’ instruction in Luke 12 to build up stores in heaven. This resonates with my own ‘Dark Night’ experience. It felt like I had spent years building up these stores through my life of prayer, sacred practices, and service in my church, and as the months of my desolation wore on, I could almost feel those stores being used up until there was nothing left. The flip side of that, though, is that I had those stores to keep me going while God was doing whatever it was God was doing in that awful season. So here I think of what habits and practices I can undertake that will help build a buffer or margin for lean times — and as I know all too well, lean spiritual times come for all of us! These days, the things that build up these stores for me are mostly prayer, reading the Scriptures, especially the words of Jesus, and spending time in nature.
- Flow: The question here is ‘Where does the energy want to go’? What are the natural flows in my spiritual life? And what feels like trying to run uphill? This isn’t to say that the life of faith should only be easy, but it’s about working with our natural inclinations and aptitudes in order to facilitate the things that are harder. When thinking of flows, we can also think about bottlenecks, situations or areas where the flow of energy is constricted in our life, and drains or sinks, those areas where energy is simply lost.
- Zone Analysis: This is about keeping the things we need most often closest to hand. This might look like keeping a Bible app on your smartphone, or finding a church or volunteer opportunities in your neighborhood. (I’m lazy enough that, on this principle, I keep my theology and spiritual library closest to where I write so I’m not demotivated by having to take an extra few steps to grab them!)
- Maximum Use: Aside from its literal application in our relationships with our possessions, this is a bit trickier to apply in the life of faith or communities of faith. But I think it’s helpful to think in terms of making the most of what we do. If I’m going to church on Sunday, can I use that effort to check not only the liturgical box, but also engage in community and service? If I’m reading a ‘spiritual’ book, are there things I can do to ensure I remember and apply its teachings? (I have a friend who, struggling with a kind of spiritual acquisitiveness in which she just read more and more books, decided that she would not buy a new book of spiritual teaching until she was honestly applying what she’d learned from her last one. It’s a pretty daunting idea, but definitely lives into the spirit of the principle of Maximum Use!)
- Equilibrium: This is such a big question for many of us: Is the system balanced? Am I giving as much as I’m receiving and receiving as much as I’m giving? Christianity has a built in understanding that it’s better to give than to receive and to serve others than to be served. This is true, but it’s also based on an assumption that most of us are selfish and lazy and need that reminder. But far too many people in our churches — especially, historically, women — have bought into this teaching a little too much, such that they feel guilty about having needs of their own. A healthy system is balanced, and a healthy spirituality is too. If we are not moved to grace, compassion, and generosity, then all of our prayer, worship, and reading has gone to waste and we are just fattening ourselves up. But if we just do, do, do without any energy coming into the system, we will burn out and likely become embittered in the process. It’s important to be honest with where we’re at on this balance beam, and if it’s teetering too much to one side, figure out ways of balancing it out.
- Transformation: How is energy being transformed in my life or community of faith? As mentioned above, one obvious example is that the energy that comes from study and spiritual reading should be transformed into action. But there are many other examples. If I go for a run through the ravines near my house and am filled with awe and wonder at the beauty of creation, then that energy of my morning exercise is being transformed into an encounter with transcendence. I find so much of the spiritual energy that comes into my awareness comes simply from noticing things, transforming attention into joy.
The point of all this is not necessarily to memorize each of these and figure out how they work in our own life, but simply to think through our relationship with energy, particularly in the life of faith and how we engage within our communities. The more we can conserve and harness the energy in the system and the less that we lose as waste, the more sustainable and sustaining our spirituality will be.
* Please see the Bibliography for this series for more details

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