They say art is good for the soul, but the truth is gentler and more generous: art steadies us. It slows the pulse and draws breath back into the body, reminding the mind it was made for more than just getting through the day. A single line of ink, a brushstroke, a whispered poem—these small acts have a way of loosening what’s been knotted inside us, allowing us to set down what we’ve been carrying and start to recognize ourselves again.
It’s this kind of steadying, this kind of awakening, that lives at the heart of The Threshold Center. An initiative of Saint Stephen’s Episcopal Church, the Center opens its doors to people of all faiths—or none at all—who feel the tug of self-discovery and need a place to begin. “People are longing for meaningful connection and a deeper experience of well-being,” says director Mary Bea Sullivan. “At The Threshold Center, we look at the places where the heart, the body, and the imagination intersect.”
Some programs rise from sacred traditions; others simply from human experience. All are held with tenderness. And woven throughout The Threshold Center’s offerings is the presence of their artist-in-residence—and Birmingham’s first poet laureate—Salaam Green. As a proponent of healing arts, she has spent years bringing poetry and creative writing into community spaces across Alabama. “I have worked with many nonprofits, social service organizations, and corporations to bring writing as a healing tool to support people in the community,” she says.
Her work often leads to powerful moments of discovery—and in some cases rediscovery. While serving in a nursing home, she met a woman in her eighties who said she hadn’t written poetry “in forever.” As they talked, the woman suddenly remembered a poem she’d written decades earlier. Moments later, she returned with a hatbox carrying the poem and a certificate. “She had written a poem for George Bush and been to the White House,” Green recalls. “It was very interesting to bring that back for her and to support her with memory care.”
Inside The Threshold Center, her creative work takes on another layer—building connections among people who might otherwise feel isolated. “We can use poetry and creative writing as a tool to help support us in building community and resilience around loneliness,” she says. Her recent workshop, Awakening to Community, invited participants to explore how belonging and resilience can begin with a single honest line on the page.
On any given day, the air inside the Center feels expectant yet unhurried, as if the building itself knows the value of slowing down. A circle of chairs may be set for Mindful Living, sketchbooks may be open for a Zentangle class, or a table waiting for poems to be born. People arrive carrying whatever the day has handed them—grief, curiosity, stress, hope—and find a space where none of it has to be hidden. Soon, breathing steadies, shoulders soften, and strangers begin to feel like companions on the same unfolding path.
For Penn Komisar, Mindful Living has become “a Thursday evening anchor,” a simple, dependable hour that knits him back into himself. “The facilitators and practices have strengthened my sense of belonging within a community committed to well-being,” he says. “To be kind to the community, you first have to be kind to yourself.”
Others come carrying the weight of change. During a difficult season, Tara Wilkinson found a place where she didn’t have to perform a version of herself. “The Threshold Center provided a welcoming space where I could be my authentic self, explore new experiences, and build meaningful connections,” she says.
In Green’s writing programs, participants explore some of their deepest emotions on the page. “The Threshold Center is an open place for all,” says DeJuana McCary. “It allows different parts of me to emerge. Writing about my shadow side gave me permission to confess fear or anger I had buried to be ‘strong.’ Writing about joy let me name moments of unexpected grace and simple gratitude.”
Pat Bills, who never considered herself artistic, discovered otherwise under the compassionate instruction of artist Elizabeth VanderKamp. “The Zentangle sessions helped me create some of the most beautiful pieces of art,” she says. “Through the meditative practice of focus and mindfulness, I learned to draw, create, and truly enjoy the process.” She now keeps Zentangle materials at home and attends Mindful Yoga for Healing, grateful “for the skilled instructors who have been sharing their practice for many years.”
Community often forms in ways no one anticipates. Cathy Buhring speaks of running into Threshold friends at places like Red Mountain Theatre. “Each gathering strengthens our connection to ourselves and to one another,” she says. “The Threshold Center has deepened my sense of community.”
Sometimes the transformation is as subtle—and as mysterious—as lying on the floor while sound vibrates through the air. Laurel Kuehr arrived at Sound Bathing “somewhat nervously,” unsure what to expect. “Although my experience was solitary as the tones surrounded me,” she says, “it became a shared experience as we compared our thoughts afterwards.”
As Sullivan reflects on the year ahead, she offers an open invitation to the people of Birmingham: “If there’s a part of you that feels stressed, empty, or lonely, cultivate some space to tend to that—and trust that the answers will come.” She returns often to the Center’s name: “We chose it because of the transformation that happens when we cross certain thresholds. We’re the same person who steps across, but somehow new.”
It feels fitting, then, that Green, whose work embodies that transformation, offers this poem to our readers:
Radical Compassion
By Salaam Green, Poet Laureate for the City of Birmingham;
Artist in Residence, The Threshold Center
Come as you are, Beloved Community:
Bring your weariness, your memory, your tender heart.
This is sacred ground, a place to lay down sorrow
and let love and mercy gather around your name.
Here, grief is not a burden to fix,
but a river that knows where to go.
We will sit beside it, listen, and let it teach us.
Let the earth and air bear witness to our healing.
Together, we will remember
that mourning is holy work,
and that joy, too, is an inheritance.
Bring your sorrow wild and free.
All grief is welcome.
We gather as our ancestors did—
to weep, to witness,
and to remember we are not alone.
Learn more about her work and her new book The Other Revival: Poems & Reckonings at salaamgreen.com.
The Threshold Center will host an open house on January 11 from 5–7 p.m. For upcoming events, visit thethresholdcenter.org