Wild and Beautiful

I love the word delight, meaning ‘of the light’ or, ‘that which gives forth light’.  One “delight” of my trip to Australia was getting to see the little penguins on Philip Island, about 90 minutes from Melbourne.  Philip Island is home to one of the largest little penguin colonies in the world.

At sunset these wild little creatures rise up out of the sea where they have been fishing during the day.  Because they are so small they need to be cautious about predators; for this reason they wait until dusk to return to their nesting places in the dunes above the ocean shore.  At dusk people gather on bleachers to await the arrival of the little penguins.  We were asked to wait in silence.  We were also asked not to take photos.  (the photos used here are borrowed from online sites)  At first I was annoyed that I couldn't photograph but I soon saw the wisdom of this. Constant photographing, even without flash, can be such a distraction and something is lost from the profound experience of being in the NOW. Thus sitting in silence, waiting for the little penguins became a spiritual experience.  It was especially moving to see so many people being quiet together and I thought of how often I ask people in the retreats I lead to just wait in silence…to wait for whatever might rise up in their soul during the waiting time.  As I sat on the bleachers waiting, I was filled with a spirit of wonder.  It was a kind of theophany to sit in silence with strangers, yet knowing that in many ways we were kin: hearts full of delight, joy, grief, sorrow, love, confusion, hearts probably filled with more questions than answers.  All waiting for something wild and beautiful to rise up out of the sea!

Then suddenly we saw the first group of penguins gathering at the seashore.   Huddled in a small group of about 15 or 20, they cautiously waddled across the beach.  Then all my stranger-friends appeared to be delighted.   For about 45 minutes in different intervals of time and numbers they came in little processions.   

And you, whoever you are, 

spend a little time waiting today.  

Wait for something wild and beautiful 

to rise up out of your soul.

Falling in Love With a Tree

To begin with: just what does it mean to fall in love? 

 From my point of view it is kind of like this:

Something turns over in your heart

and 'very suddenly' you know 

that you are a little bit healthier

than you were five minutes ago.

You also know that whatever 

you have fallen in love with 

is not yours to keep in an ownership way.

It has been loaned to you briefly.

It is a gift for others as well.

How you respond to it is totally up to you!

Some will pass by without seeing it.

Some will photograph it without really seeing it.

Some will open to its blessing.

Some will carry it in their heart's memory.

Some will experience a sweet healing.

Others will have wonder restored in their lives.

Some will feast on the vision with gratitude.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On my visit to New  Zealand and Australia

I absolutely fell in love with the trees.

The tree pictured below is on Red Beach in Auckland.

It is a Pohutukawa tree and I actually can pronounce it.

At Christmas time it has bright red blossoms 

so it becomes their Christmas Tree.

I was there in the season of spring and the blossoms had not yet arrived.

The tree below is one of my photographs

but the one directly below it is from Google images.

I am trying to imagine my tree now all bright 

with its red blossoms. 

When I visited Auckland we drove into

Cornwall Park and along Pohutukawa Drive

I was offered a glimpse of so many ancestral trees

that it took my breath away~~ of course these were

very short love affairs but they are now

 loving medicinal memories.

The tree below is an Algerian Oak.

It is a semi-evergreen and loses its foliage

 for short periods during winter.
I stood, in silence, simply mesmerized by its branches.

Below you will behold my beloved Jacaranda

 with its lush purple blossoms.

Sydney and its surrounding area is where I first

laid eyes on this tree.  It is not native to Australia

and I can probably find some in California 

but this was my first sighting of a Jacaranda

and I could hardly stop staring at them.  

It was here in Sydney that I first made my proclamation:

I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH A TREE!

And now I offer you the gift of this beautiful coral blossom

from a Coral tree that I met 
at Jamberoo Abbey in New South Wales.
http://www.jamberooabbey.org.au/html/home.htm

The tree below is another tree I fell in love with.

It, too, lives in Jamberoo at the Abbey.

I was there a week with the cloistered Benedictines

and spent many moments just beholding it

and saying, "Oh, my goodness!"
It is a fig tree but not the kind that bears fruit.
It bears beauty.  It sings in silence.
It was truly my goodness--tree!

There is one more little miracle to be shared.  This is a baby Jacaranda.  One of the Sisters at Jamberoo gifted me with it.  I told her I thought it doubtful I could get it through customs. Nevertheless,  I did set out on my journey to Melbourne with the little tree in tow.  In Melbourne we discerned that since it would, most likely, not make it back to the states safely, it should remain with the one who was ultimately responsible for planting the dream-seed of my trip to Australia.  It now lives with Jen and John in Victoria, near Melbourne.  It has been named, Jacqueline.  And believe it or not, Jacqueline, the Jacaranda, now writes letters to me reporting on her spiritual and physical growth.

Do you have a tree that you love?

Spend time with it soon!

Goodbye Fall ~~~ Hello Winter!

Enjoy This Last Evening of Fall.

Take a walk…

Winter Arrives Tomorrow.
{or, maybe it's today}

Well!  Not in quite so dramatic form perhaps,

but it does arrive for some of us.

Let the seasons, season you!

Enjoy the beauty of transformation

As you gaze at these two strikingly different photos

just think, for a minute, about your inner transformations.

They, too, deserve to be honored!
Thank you for changing with the seasons.

Macrina

Be Not Afraid!

   

Here I am!  Gazing at the beautiful waters swallowing the sun the evening of November 20, 2011.  This is Port Phillips Bay (Melbourne, Australia).  Contemplating this lovely moment I recall how I kept putting off this trip to Australia because of my fear of flying over so much water, or for that matter, flying over all those hours.  Now that I have visited this land and returned to my own land, there are so many lovely moments that I carry in my treasure house of memories.  I sit on my soul's front porch and allow the memories to become icons that illuminate my prayer.  Much of my meditation these days has centered around the invitation to move through life without excessive fear.  The gospels are full of words encouraging us not to live in fear.  These words sound a bit like a commandment, at times.  Even in the Christmas gospel announcing the birth of Jesus, Luke has the angel saying to the shepherds,

"Do not be afraid: for behold I proclaim

to you news of great  joy

that will be for all the people."

I have been reading Tony Hillerman’s memoir, Seldom Disappointed and am quite moved by some of the things he shares about his mother teaching him not to be afraid.  Listen to these wise words:

“Mama’s life had taught her that youth must have its adventures, whatever the risk.   She passed that wisdom along, … and also somehow taught me that even day-dreaming has value. Her most important lesson was not be afraid of anything.   “Offer it up, Mama would say, hugging us while she said it.  When life seemed awful, cruel and unfair, Mama would remind us that it was just a brief trial we had to endure, a race we had to run, a test we had to pass as best we could.  We were born, we live a little while, then we’d die.  Then would come joy, the great adventure of Eternal Life.  So children never be afraid, never, never.  Not of spiders [avoid the black widow and she avoids you]  not of lightening [avoid standing under trees in storms] not of storm clouds [see the beauty in them, the majesty; but if you see tornado funnels, we’ll have a little picnic in the root cellar].  Not of drowning [God loves you but expects you to use common sense]  Not of snakes [they were  our allies in humanity’s war against rats and mice].

Sometimes we can’t hear the encouragement of “be not afraid.”  sometimes we have to fly over the big waters of our own life to find the joyful news that we really can take risks; we really can listen to advice and make choices.  We don’t have to do everything alone.  And we don’t have to do everything together.  We are always juggling solitude and community.  Each of these are angels of good news.

The flowers above are a gift from the sea.  They turned out to be a  symbol of great beauty for us on my last night in Melbourne.  Sister Aileen found them on the beach during her morning walk.  She didn't find them all together but at different intervals of time.  We wondered, as we enjoyed them on our last day and at our evening prayer, if we were being intrusive in someone else's life celebration.  Obviously these flowers held a story, a memory of love celebrated and shared, a beautiful mystery whose story we would never fully know.  We thanked and prayed for the original owners and brought them to our prayer.   


All this is to say that the fear in my heart has softened.  Of course it is necessary to be cautious but life is a gift to be lived.  And so, I encourage you, whoever you are, to sit on the front porch of your soul embracing your fears.  Who knows but in that embrace they may become angels of joy flying you to places you only day-dreamed about.  I, for one, am very happy about the angels who were responsible for flying me into this lovely mystical land.

I'll be "down-under" for awhile.

Meanwhile if you would like

one of my 2012 YEAR OF GRACE calendars,

click on the calendar on the sidebar to see details.

And may God be in all the spaces

you and I must walk

until we meet again.

Prelude to Morning Praise on Oct. 6

Photo by Ronnie Udouj

A few days ago as I walked up the hill to our monastery chapel for Morning Praise, the sky was so awesome I found myself not wanting to go to chapel for prayer. I wanted to remain in my wonderful outdoor cathedral. When I arrived at the monastery door I looked up at the sky once more and said "OK, Lord, I'll leave this to go to Morning Prayer but it better be good!"

I arrived in chapel a little early which is not one of my common behaviors since I am prone to loitering, ambling, meandering and sauntering along the way, which I also find to be a form of prayer. I decided to open my daily prayer book from Liturgical Press, Give us This Day, (www.giveusthisday.org) and check out the daily scripture reading for Morning Prayer. I could hardly believe what I was reading. It was from Isaiah 60:19-21

“No longer shall the sun be your light by day, Nor shall the brightness of the moon give you light by night; Rather the Lord will be your light forever, your God will be your glory. No longer will your sun set, or your moon wane; For the Lord will be your light forever, and the days of your grieving will be over. …” The words fell into my soul like rain though I was not repentant of my earlier struggle. Each of these experiences was prayer. Everything in the whole wide world is the “back side of God.” (Exodus 33:18-23)

As I began to chant the psalms with my community I became aware that the sunrise was still with me. Each word, a sun beam:

From Psalm 84: Your temple is my joy, Lord of heaven’s might. I am eager for it, eager for the courts of God. My flesh, my flesh sings its joy to the living God. ...…God is our sun, our shield, the giver of honor and grace.

And from Psalm 32: You, my shelter, you save me from ruin; You encircle me with songs of freedom.

I will show you the way you should walk. As your teacher I watch out for you. Do not be a stubborn mule…

Well, I think I will stop on that one but it is true that the sunrise came into chapel with me and then all the saints in the stain glass windows started waking up and putting on their bright robes and haloes, raising their hands in praise, picking up their staffs and palm branches, their writing quills and lighted lamps, sacred books, crosses and chalices, (whatever the artist put in their hands) and I thought of the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us and their faith; and I looked at the faces of my Sisters with whom I was praying and I thought, “It really is good to be here!”

What amazing gifts and guides we have to help us change our attitudes! Any place is a good place to be if you come with open hands, open ears, open hearts and with bright piercing eyes, ready to see and receive. I don’t always allow myself to be tamed so easily but on that particular morning: feast of St. Bruno, the Carthusian, I was so open to grace.

Top of Form

a few barred gates

Lord, a dream of [You]
lies on my soul,
but I cannot reach [You]
for all my gates are barred.
--Gertrude von le Fort

I just love this quote. I used it for my 'Lectio' a few weeks ago and sort of gagged on the words. I can feel it in my bones. Yes, I have a few barred gates. I, who think I am so open, am sometimes aghast at my closed heart . However, I am working with even my barred gates. They, too, speak eloquently about who I am and who I am becoming. I am trying to look at the bars and the ‘why’ of them. The 'why' is very good reflection material. I try not to be over analytical in regard to my path of life but recently I have become so aware of how everything can be brought to prayer. Of course I would like to always bring an open heart, a joyful spirit, an unbarred gate to my prayer. I would like to bring a willingness to be transformed. But the truth of the matter is that I must bring what I have and sometimes what I have to bring is not all that attractive. So I say to myself, "Bring what you have even if it is a closed heart. Bring what needs transforming and just sit with it in faith. Your barred gate is compost for future growth." Coming before God with my closed heart opens me to humility. Humility, that beautiful word that I sometimes struggle with and yet it keeps me close to the earth: ground, humus, compost, soil conditioner....and just maybe this soil conditioner will turn into soul conditioner and from unexpected stony, rocky places some kind of miracle will blossom right through your barred gate. There is something within you so hallowed and consecrated it is bound to show its face eventually like a surprise in the desert. Life happens!