Under the Sycamore Tree

The window's gifts

2012-02-13T12:50:00.000-08:00

Each day we receive valentines from the Source of all Life.

This morning, on the vigil of Valentines Day, I went to the window

to check out my new valentines.

They were waiting for my grateful presence:

a snow covered branch

a leaf clinging to the ledge of the window

a woman walking her dog

the dance of the tree branches

the glistening silver sky

the new day.

And of course

there are other windows

and other days

always offering valentines.

So let's receive!

It's a good practice,

a lovely morning ritual

for almost any day.

The valentine Pooh Bear, Piglet and I

would like to give you

is the gift of today

No matter what the weather,

receive today.

“What day is it,?"asked Pooh.
"It's today," squealed Piglet.
"My favorite day," said Pooh.”

Claim the beauty of the Night

2012-02-10T12:08:00.000-08:00

Dear God,

We give thanks for the darkness of the night where lies the world of dreams.

Guide us closer to our dreams so that we may be nourished by them.

Give us good dreams and memory of them so that we may carry

their poetry and mystery into our daily lives.

Grant us deep and restful sleep that we may wake

refreshed with strength enough to renew a world grown tired.

We give thanks for the inspiration of stars,

the dignity of the moon

and the lullabies of crickets and frogs.

Let us restore the night and reclaim it as a sanctuary of peace,

where silence shall be music to our hearts

and darkness shall throw light upon our souls.

Good Night. Amen.

--Michael Leunig, A Common Prayer Book

Collins Dove 1990

Wild and Beautiful

2012-01-18T15:40:00.000-08:00

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, about90 minutes from Melbourne. Philip Islandis home to one of the largest little penguin colonies in the world.

At sunset these wild little creaturesrise up out of the sea where they have been fishing during the day. Because they are so small they need to becautious about predators; for this reason they wait until dusk to return to theirnesting places in the dunes above the ocean shore. At dusk people gather on bleachers toawait 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 onlinesites) 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 profoundexperience of being in the NOW. Thus sitting in silence, waiting for the littlepenguins became a spiritual experience. It was especially moving to see so many people being quiet together andI thought of how often I ask people in the retreats I lead to just wait insilence…to wait for whatever might rise up in their soul during the waitingtime. As I sat on the bleachers waiting,I was filled with a spirit of wonder. Itwas a kind of theophany to sit in silence with strangers, yet knowing that inmany 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 beautifulto rise up out of the sea!

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

And you, whoever you are,

spend alittle time waiting today.

Wait forsomething wild and beautiful

to rise up out of your soul.

Falling in Love With a Tree

2011-12-22T08:02:00.000-08:00

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!

2011-12-20T14:15:00.000-08:00

Enjoy This LastEvening of Fall.

Take a walk…

WinterArrives Tomorrow.
{or, maybe it's today}

Well! Not in quite sodramatic form perhaps,

but it does arrive forsome 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!

2011-12-14T19:35:00.000-08:00

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 wecan’t hear the encouragement of “be not afraid.” sometimes we have to fly over the big waters of our own life to findthe joyful news that we really can take risks; we really can listen to adviceand make choices. We don’t have to doeverything alone. And we don’t have todo everything together. We are alwaysjuggling 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.

2011-10-15T06:21:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-08T07:06:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-22T09:23:00.001-07:00

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!

hip-deep in tears

2011-09-15T14:47:00.000-07:00

The world is knee deep in tears or maybe it is hip deep or even higher. Sometimes I have to find ways ritualize the grief I hold because of all the suffering in the world. These are not necessarily people I know but they live in someone's heart and that's what matters. So this morning, on the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, remembering the beautiful earth-labyrinth on our monastery grounds, I thought perhaps it was just waiting for a pilgrim . I decided to be that pilgrim. I went early when the sun was just thinking about rising and a small bit of the glow could be seen. I begin slowly walking the path carrying the suffering world down the trail. I thought of Jesus with his cross. I thought of so many people, animals and all of nature with their crosses also. At ever curve of the labyrinth I stopped and named places and people. Every step was a prayer and sometimes I called out names as I took another step. Of course I missed some whose names needed to be spoken. You can speak their names in a ritual of your own.

Japan: earthquake, typhoon, death, terror, hopelessness
Christchurch, New Zealand: more death and destruction,
Fires: Texas, California, Oklahoma (perhaps more) the firefighters—death and courage,
the cattle that died because fences couldn't be moved fast enough, the devastation of nature,
The lingering effects of Katrina. We who are far from it sometimes think it is over but the effects are still alive. For some it may never be over! Moving down the path I kept offering them to God
9/11! What more need I say? Suffering washes over me like waves of the sea: the terror, the unspeakable loss, intense sorrow, anger, the courage and bravery and love of so many. I stand for a long time in silence. I try to hear the cries. Truly the world is knee-deep, hip-deep, shoulder-deep in tears.
I pause on the path: There is just too much pain to name. People uprooted from their homes because of floods.
The Joplin, Missouri tornado, a war zone of suffering.
[Please name your own great losses that I missed]

I arrived at the Center of the Labyrinth with all this pain, with all these beautiful people, with their courage and their life (which I wasn’t fortunate enough to know) Symbolically I lifted them to God, I raised them to the heavens, to the center, to the four directions and then I carefully placed all these events, these people these sufferings onto the earth. I knelt there for quite some time. Tears came and they were healing.

On my journey out of the center, back down the pathway, I heard the Holy One, the Source of all life, telling me to take joy with me on my return. I went back to my ministry with a joyful heart, It is not helpful to take back the pain and sorrow. It is not helpful to add my despair to an already hurting community of people. And so I breathed in their courage, hope, love and strength. I breathed in their beautiful lives. I walked down the return path with a lighter heart, somewhat healed. I asked for the grace of living aware. I would like to live in such a way that I am always mindful of the sufferings of the world just as I am also aware of the joy and peace that can mingle with the suffering. I want to live AWARE..

Keeping Vigil with the Word of God

2011-08-31T14:07:00.000-07:00

It is always exciting when a new book is born especially when the book is yours. My 8th book will have a September birthday. I like that because autumn begins in September and autumn is my favorite season. The portion I am quoting below from my book is from the 4th chapter which is entitled, Don't Look Back. This chapter is on commitment for I have perceived that commitment is difficult for many people. Yet it seems so essential for joyful daily living.

~~a quote and a prayer from ABIDE: Keeping vigil with the Word of God~~

A human person on fire with love for the 'way of Christ' and setting that fire ablaze with action and contemplation is one of my images of commitment.

Jesus,

Your invitation has not been forgotten. There was no RSVP so I have dilly-dallied in my response. I want to be your disciple but I struggle with the cost. All? The cost is all? There are moments when I find such extravagance attractive. My whole-heart leaps for joy at the very thought of this prodigal gift of self. But my half-heart cringes at the thought of having nothing left for it. Perhaps if I could get my half-heart to make friends with my whole-heart the result would be a harmonious friendship that would bless my burning desire to be your disciple. But my half-heart is so cautious and not too keen about the exquisite risk of giving all.

O Unfailing Love, please be patient while I work this out.

--taken from ABIDE: Keeping Vigil with the Word of God

(Macrina Wiederkehr, Liturgical Press--early September release)

Personal Altars

2011-08-21T11:40:00.000-07:00

This morning at breakfast a few of us were discussing the value of personal altars in our rooms. Some of us found them important for our prayer; for others they seemed unnecessary. For me they are helpful although I have to guard myself from getting them too cluttered. I frequently change the symbols or icons on my altar to emphasize a new piece of growth that has happened in my life, some insight that has ocurred or something that is trying to get my attention. At this time in my life, God seems to be calling me away from a lot of words. Two of my favorite words are DWELL and ABIDE. These words help me remember my desire to just BE. The Holy One, Source of my Life, is always present and so nothing I place on my altar actually renders God more present. The altar space suggests a sacred presence that is always in my reach. God doesn't need my altar. My altar reminds me that even in the midst of my distractions I am in the presence of the Holy Mystery. This morning I picked up an old tattered copy of my book, Seasons of Your Heart and read a selection that fits with my desire to keep my altar more simple. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"In our search for the holy, there are times when our restless preparations smother the very truth for which we are searching. We decorate our rooms and make elaborate preparations for prayer, when a single flower and a moment of waiting are all we need to meet the One Who Comes. In our restlessness, our futile search sometimes becomes the only god we ever meet."

A moment of waiting! A single flower!

Those words hold special meaning for me as I try to simplfy. Now I sometimes begin my personal prayer with an empty altar. After my time of reflecting on the Scriptures I ask this question, How did God visit me during my hour of prayer? What is Christ asking of me for this week? Then I place on the altar a symbol, word, or picture, --a reminder of what went on in my heart and mind during this time of prayer. I use that as a prompt for the next week. I recall, too, our biblical ancestors who would sometimes pile up stones and pour oil on the stones as a memorial of God's visitations. [Genesis 28:16-19]Call to mind events in your life where God seemed absent; it is never too late to discover presence in what seemed like absence. Perhaps even now you are being invited to cry out with Jacob, Truly, God was in this place all the while and I never knew. I didn't know you were there, until now! Until now! Sometimes a backward glance uncovers a grace we almost missed.

Don't be sad!

2011-08-18T13:42:00.001-07:00

I walked out to the Sycamore Tree this morning at dawn. After a few rains this week a bit of green was actually returning to the grass, but for the most part the dry and crumbling leaves on the tree and on the ground looked rather forlorn. I glanced at one of the fallen leaves and I whispered to the whole world, "Don't be sad!" Then I realized I was talking to myself. It happens often when I am trying to dwell in the Mystery! There is much in the world that is lovely. There is much in the world that is lonely! Lovely and Lonely! Right at my fingertips the Mystery lives, and breathes and has its being. I miss what is near because I am reaching for the stars. I reach for that which is not crumbled, and brown and dying. "But don't you see," I say to myself, "Stars are falling all around you." The Mystery wears your name and sees through your eyes, and hears with your ears. I turn again to the world and whisper, "Don't be sad."

Make a Wish

2011-07-31T07:14:00.000-07:00

I just celebrated my birthday on July 28. For a long time now it has been my custom to make the 28th of every month a little birthday; when possible the 28th is my day apart--a day of prayer. And so, even my real birthday in July became a day of retreat. After Morning Praise, Eucharist and Breakfast with my community I bowed out for the day and reflected on how I need to be born again. I lit my birthday candle and made a wish. In fact I made lots of wishes. I make my wishes when I light the candle instead of when I blow it out. Throughout the day when I became aware of the burning candle I made another wish. Below is a list of a few of the wishes that I made. The first few wishes are for the whole world; the others are for me. Perhaps you also would like to make a list of birthday wishes. You don't have to wait for your birthday to make a wish.

I wish that racism and all forms of prejudice were a thing of the past.

I wish each of us would make an effort to see the hidden goodness in all people.

I wish we would truly believe that our world doesn't have to be so violent and make little changes in our personal lives to become people of peace.

I wish we could eradicate greed from the face of this earth--of course, I have to begin with myself.

I wish we would be very careful about judging others, remembering that we are a temple of God and not a courthouse.

I wish everyone would see the movie, My name is Khan.

I wish I could let go of my expectations of others [especially as to how they ought to perform] and search for ways to affirm them.

I wish I was a bit more adept at surrendering my opinions.

I wish I would let nothing (not even 2011 summers) prevent me from spending a little time outdoors in the heart of nature each day.

I wish I would laugh more.

I wish it would rain.

And I wish I could be a rain of grace for those I live with and beyond...

I wish I could be utterly authentic. (that has always been one of my deep wishes)

I wish I had an overdose of poverty of spirit. (another of my deep wishes)

Wishes, in themselves, seem a bit empty. We have to put flesh on the wish through some kind of action. On the other hand, a wish is a seed of potential that I can water with intense desire. I can breathe on it each day and bring it to life. I can pray that the wish become so deeply rooted in me that it becomes a reality. I can call on the child in me and practice making my wishes come true

Finally I wish I could be a bridge

over the troubled waters of people's lives.

"People are lonely

because they build walls

instead of bridges."

Write a letter to one of your bridges,

don't send an e-mail~~write a Letter!

I really wish you would!

Needmore? Needless?

2011-07-22T08:12:00.000-07:00

I can hardly believe it has been a month since I wrote on this blog. What do I need to be more faithful? Do I need more time? Do I need more inspiration? Do I need more commitment? Do I need more prayer or silence? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Or, maybe it is something I need less of. Do I need less clutter? Do I need less obssessing? Do I need less taking myself so seriously. Do I need less ADHD? I don't really have the answers to these questions, but a few months ago I had an experience that has drawn me into doing Lectio Divina with roadsigns. I continue to be amazed at how much food for thought shows up right on the path of our daily journys. The -- 'needmore' -- 'needless' -- theme emerged in my life one day when I was packing to go away for a week of writing. As I carried all my loot out to the car I suddenly stopped and began praying with the ordeal--and indeed, it had become an ordeal. I drove away from the monastery a bit frustrated with myself. I was definitely taking too much stuff with me.
Mulling over all this as I drove South on Highway 71 (somewhere between Waldron and Y City) a road-sign caught my attention: Needmore! Automatic laughter rose up in me as I said to God, "I don't needmore! I needless!" I added to my prayer, "O God, help me to want less." Needmore! Needless! Wantmore! Wantless! Definitely material for Lectio. I've been praying about this ever since I saw that roadsign.

Needmore is not a city, a villiage or even a town. It is too small for that yet sometimes small things speak to us. That little place along the way called Needmore has spoken to me. I am sure it has a history. It has become a symbol for my prayer.

A quote from a greeting card I received many years ago still lingers in my storehouse of treasures. I offer it to you for reflection as we all consider whether we need more or less. Perhaps that would be a good journal exercise. Make two columns:

1. Needmore ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 2. Needless

If you aren't happy with what you have, how could you be happier with more.

--Grandma Ros

Find yourself a Lectio Roadsign and tell us about it!

Still Listening

2011-06-24T21:06:00.001-07:00

You may remember a few posts ago I wrote about my listening tree, the tree with ears that I discovered on our monastery grounds. It became one of my sacred sites and when I could find the time I went there to listen. Sadly, two days after I shared 'my listening tree' with you the storms came with their raging winds and fierce lightning and split my dear tree wide open. I was away from home and one of our Sisters e-mailed me with this dreadful message.

Is it right, I thought, for me to be mourning a tree when people have lost lives and homes? Yes, when you've loved something and named it, it is yours in a special way. All mourning is to be honored.

A friend shared with me this poem by Charles Mungoshi. In a way it a ritual for mourning. A ritual for surrendering and receiving again. It tells me what to do--

WHAT TO DO

Take out all your belongings--

Furniture, clothes, crockery--

All you have since held dear

Take them all out

And return them to the forest.

Now, bring in the sky

The mountains, distant views

Of anything, the rivers, trees,

Boulders; the animals, birds

And insects--

Set them loose in your room.

Now--

Kneel down anywhere

And give thanks.

-Charles Mungoshi

from The Milkman Doesn't Only Deliver Milk

Baobab Books, Harare, 1998

And so I kneel before the remains of my tree giving thanks for everything and I wonder: In spite of its very wounded state, is it still listening.

THE LISTENING TREE

Bringing in the kin

2011-06-16T14:20:00.000-07:00

I am reflecting on the photo above as a metaphor for my family. All coming from the same root basically, yet little volunteers sprouting up in the midst -- Connected and at times disconnected. Kindred spirits, unique and beautiful. I just spent a weekend with many of these kindred spirits at our family reunion.

I readily admit that there are times when I dread family reunions. All that noise, everyone talking at the same time (and more) but this time I tried to look at it all as HAPPY NOISE and it was kind of like music. When we were praying together I looked out onto all those faces and thought: Who are these people? Is this really my family? Some of us are democrats, some republicans, some independents! Some conservative, some liberal! Some Catholic, some from other denominations! Some, not needing labels at all.

And then I thought, perhaps it doesn't matter. Hopefully we are connected in ways that are most important. There is a holy Source of Life that brought us into being. In some way, we all try to lean toward. that Source. Our lives are spiritual (whether we recognize it or not) and in our most vulnerable moments we know that. There is a love in our hearts that we can't always reach and we don't fully understand. But it is present and it makes itself known in surpising ways just when it is most needed. There is a depth in the recesses of our souls that we have not yet discovered. We are slowly growing into our best selves. We are here to renew the bond that binds us to one another.

The word reunion suggests a gathering of what has become scattered. It is a bringing in the kin. We have no choice in being related to one another; we do have a choice as to whether we want to remain or become kindred spirits. Our frenetic schedules often make abiding relationships difficult.

And so I look upon this family and I pray:

O Source of Life,

Loving Creator, Jesus, Saving One,

You have lifted us from the womb of the earth

You have blown your breath into us

Enable us to be faithful to this holy breath, your breath

the breath you loaned us on the day of our birth.

Thank you for the family gathered here

Enrich our lives; nurture and sustain us.

Bond us together as kinded spirts.

Keep our ancestors dreams alive in us.

Reveal to us your own dreams for our well-being.

Well-being! What a beautiful word!

That's the gift you can give to this family.

Awaken us to the deep well within our being

Let us be refreshing drinks for one another

and for the larger human family.

O God of our Ancestors, just as you

cherish us, teach us to cherish one another.

Amen! Yes! May it come to pass!

Too many words

2011-05-28T15:51:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I try to reach God, my words get in the way. They become road blocks in my life rather than pathways to the sacred

They become obstacles rather than blessings.

All those words that I gather up so carefully and rearrange with such devotion suddenly seem a bit empty. The meaning falls out of them and I am inclined to mark through them with a red pen and sit down at the table of silence.

The Listening Tree

2011-05-17T07:24:00.000-07:00

We have a listening tree on our monastery grounds. I discovered it in March when the spring leaves were returning and I've been holding regular visitations with it since then. If you look closely at the tree you will see an ear. This tree has an ear; actually it has a lot of ears. The ears of course are actually scars (places where it has been pruned to keep it alive) and that in itself has provided much reflection for me. Perhaps the same ordeal happens in our own lives and out of the places where we have been scarred we learn to listen. Maybe we are all Listening Trees. Rooted in the things that really matter! Maybe we need to learn to pay attention to our scars which may really be ears so that we can discover our deep listening qualities.

Recently I listened to someone read a poem by Rumi. Although I can't recall the exact words the poet was saying that he would like to sell his tongue and buy more ears. Me too!

I think I met a human Listening Tree the other day--well, not in person but I attended a panel discussion: The pathways to non-violence in Fayetteville AR. On the panel were the Dalai Lama, Sister Helen Prejean and Vincent Harding. The moderator asked how (after violent incidents such as when the children were killed by a bombing in Birmingham, AL in the 60's) one learns not to surrender to hate. Vincent answered with words I would like to tatoo on my arm (if I was into tatooing) He said something like this: You are so full of your dream there is no room for hate. You are full of 'the possibility of what could be.' That is what takes over your life.

When that happens to us we become LISTENING TREES. We even learn to listen to love in the people who hate....the love they can't see, perhaps because they haven't learned to listen to their scars.

Have a good day out there wherever you are! Become Listening Trees. Be so full of your dream of a non-violent world that there is no room for hate.

Dancing in the Dark

2011-04-23T07:51:00.000-07:00

Just look at this! Easter Flowers dancing in the dark.

Dancing all night

Dancing us out of the tomb!

I've been keeping vigil

with these flowers!

Now I'm dancing too!

Happy Easter Everyone!

Reflection after cataract surgery

2011-04-18T08:57:00.000-07:00

The daisy has only one eye and it is full of light. Its' flower ancestors have been lifting the light out of the dark earth ages upon ages. The light is ancient and the light keeps coming. We who gaze upon the bright presence of the daisy are also filled with light. The daisy blesses all who behold it. Find a daisy this week. Allow it to bless you.

We have two eyes; they, too, are full of light. Our ancestors have been lifting the light out of age old wombs forever and ever. No one can see that far back into time, still the light keeps coming out of the darkness. It is important for me to believe that the light will continue to come. There is a blessed light and a holy darkness that are age-old friends, kindred spirits. Someday all nations will discover ways to connect the darkness and the light. There are individuals who have already made this discovery. They are using this bright darkness for the healing of the world.

Perhaps God, the Source of Light and Darkness is all 'EYE' and seeing with love is God's religion.

Oh all you daisy spirits,

assist us in being faithful

to the light of our two eyes

as you are faithful

to the light of your one eye

..a small miracle!

2011-04-05T21:14:00.000-07:00

How wonderful is light! How awesome is sight! The truth of this rests gently in my heart on this vigil of my cataract surgery. Everyone says that this particular surgery is a piece of cake but I like to think of it as a small miracle. I sat at my prayer altar this evening and remembered some of my favorite sights.

What will it be like to see more clearly (without glasses)

the way the shadows and the light celebrate the moments

the personality of the individual leaves in the community of leaves on the trees

those beautiful freckles on so many faces

and the dimples, remembering how when I was a child I used to punch my cheeks in, hoping to create some for myself

the gathering of storm clouds

the illuminating streaks of lightning

sunlight streaming throught the branches

bright faces of spring flowers

and oh, the return of the daisies.

Continuing my prayer I imagine my doctor's hands held in the hands of the Holy One. Using the prayer of St. Gertrude, I pray for my left and right eye:

"I preceived a gentle light

proceeding from Thy divine eyes

and passing through mine,

spreading itself

in every secret part of me,

and seeming to fill

all my members

with a wonderful power

and strength."

--St. Gertrude of Helfta

Tomorrow the daisies will bloom.

And Thursday I will see them clearly!

Wood has Hope

2011-03-23T18:36:00.000-07:00

I said to the almond tree, speak to me of God,

and the almond tree blossomed.

-Nikos Kazantzakis

It happens every Spring and I am always in awe. An old gnarled tree, twisted, and crooked stands like a sentinel on our monastery grounds. It looks as though nothing living could possibly emerge from its dead wood. And then suddenly there are blossoms! I am always a little fearful that this might be the year it will not blossom; yet it never disappoints. It is a flowering almond tree. Since the blossoms do not last long I try to spend as much time with it as possible in the blossoming season.

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

In this new spring season, while reflecting on the tree, I was given the insight that perhaps I need to also spend time with it, in its dormant season. "Wood hath hope" the Jesuits sing in one of their old songs. Then I remember the wonderful quote from Job 14:7 about the miraculous power of life in what seems to be dead wood.

There is hope for a felled tree, it can always start its life again.

The roots may have grown old, the stump may be rotting in the ground

but with the first scent of water hope can return;

it still has power to put forth green shoots. And sometimes it does!

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

Wood Hath Hope! Let's try to remember that on the gloomy days when we can't find spring in our bones; when it appears that life has dried up, that hope is gone. The return of blossoms is such a good metaphor for our spiritual lives. One of the things I 've noticed about our Flowering Almond is that many of the blossoms emerge right out of the trunk, not on the branches. it is as though the blossom can't wait to arrive. No time to grow a branch? Just come right on out of the wood! Sometimes life can't wait! Your life is waiting!

DEAD LINES

2011-03-02T20:26:00.000-08:00

If you are wondering about this photo,

It is a deadline

or, maybe a dead line

since it doesn't seem to be breathing.

Oh Happy Day!

I just sent in a manuscript to Liturgical Press

for my latest book entitled,

ABIDE: keeping vigil with the Word

It is such a wonderful feeling to have the burden of a deadline lifted. Deadline! Now that is a funny word, I've intended to google it to search out its orgin but have not yet done so. What is a deadline anyway? Does it mean that you are dead when you arrive at the due-date because you have worked obsessively? Or, you will be dead if you don't make it on time. Or, perhaps the project will be dead because you are so sick of it or you have over-edited it.

I recently posted a question on my facebook asking, What's a deadline? One of my FB friends suggested it was a line that has stopped breathing. That answer provided me with much meditation material. A line that has stopped breathing is certainly dead. Of course I could call it a time-line or a due-date -- whatever you call it, a deadline has the ability to cause stress, obsession, irritability, panic and anxiety.

In praying about my deadline (and I do pray about such things) I decided that it can take the light out of my life only if I allow it to do this. It can cause me to live DEAD only if I give it permission to do this. At times like this I am always amazed at how I tend to give my power and my life away. I don't have to give my life away but sometimes I do.

Rethinking all this I have decided that a 'deadline' could be called a 'lifeline' -- Schedules are good for me and staying on task is important; however if I allow any project to take the joy out of my life or if it is detrimental to my peace and presence to other people, then it has stopped breathing. If I look at it as a lifeline, I can be aware of the life we are giving each other along the way. I give life to my work-project and it gives life to me. We bless each other!

Here is my Lifeline! Watch it blossom! I am taking a new vow! No longer will I write to publish! I will write for joy! If I publish, that is wonderful; if I don't, that's ok too.

No deadlines; Only lifelines.

I want to know the sweet joy of my work

becoming my 'love made visible'

as the poet, Kahlil Gibran

so beautifully puts it.

LIFE-LINE

Consider yourself hugged

2011-02-14T08:04:00.000-08:00

Friendship is a special Gift

Today is Valentine day and friends come easily to mind. Some of you are personal friends and some of you I have never met but I like to think we all have a universal heart filled with yearnings and dreams, joy and sorrow, loves and fears.

And so, I want to tell you

(whoever you are) that

"You are Dear!"

It is a blessing beyond telling

to know that there is someone

"dear" out there,

someone with whom we can connect:

in frantic, disheartening, confusing moments

in joyful, grateful, enchanting, creative moments.

Thanks for being so dear

as to step into the pages of my life!

CONSIDER YOURSELF HUGGED!

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

Below you will find some HAIKU

that I lifted out of the softwhare of my heart!

O friend of my heart

Mysterious Loveliness

What Heaven have you come from?

Memory of You

in my crankiest of moods

Still mellows my heart.

In the bagel shop

Over steaming cups of coffee

Sharing our hearts out.

~~~~~~~~~

Like fresh air in life

Oh, you are necessity

More than luxury.

Do you remember

the carefee moments

of our younger years?

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

In my book of life

I slowly turn over a page

and you are waiting.

TO LOVE ANOTHER PERSON

IS TO SEE THE FACE OF GOD!

~~Les Miserables

Be Patient With Me

2011-02-08T14:23:00.000-08:00

Be patient with me

I really am coming back.

And obviously

I'm not sitting

under the sycamore tree

these days.

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

Whatever you do

have compassion on yourself

when you can't keep

all of your promises.

I apologized to my journal

this morning,

all decorated and lovely

waiting for my words.

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

SILENCE INSTEAD

and that's not so bad either.

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

Have mercy on all within you

that needs your mercy!

One in the light

2011-01-16T12:31:00.000-08:00

As the sun rose, it filled me

until I thought I was all light

and there was nothing left

of what I once called me.

Then suddenly I saw below

at the water's edge another sister of light.

My light streamed out to her.

Her light flowed back to me

and we were one in the light.

Lift your face to the daystar now

Experience the coming of dawn.

bathed in morning light, pray

that the lantern of your life

move gently this day

into all those places

where light is needed.

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

Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB

from The Circle of Life

Carry the lantern of your life

into all those places where light is needed!

Wishing you a week full of lighted life!

Deep Stillness Blossoms

2011-01-09T11:56:00.000-08:00

I write this on the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus

the last day of the Christmas season.

This "deep stillness" card fell out of an old book I am re-reading. Thus it became part of my Christmas altar. I still "sort of" celebrate Christmas (in my own way) until February 2, which is the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple (Candlemas Day). I am no longer in touch with Reid, the friend who created this card so long ago. I love it when "old things" show up in my life.

Along with Reid's "deep stillness" design I chose one of my favorite Christmas cards of a modern day Madonna. It, too, is a card from the past sent to me by a long lasting though seldom seen friend, Nicholas. I often save a few cards for my treasure chest. I love finding old memories tucked away in special places. Every Christmas I pull out a few old memories; people from my past return and spend time on my holiday and holy day altar.

This Advent I spent hours dwelling on the quote, "DEEP STILLNESS BLOSSOMS." Perhaps it is because I have such an intense longing for stillness. Actually, with practice, the stillness can be found everywhere and anywhere, even in the midst of a busy mall or a flock of magpies, although that is not my favorite place to practice stillness. The deeper the stillness, the greater the possibility of the blossoming. The blossoms come later--often, after one has almost forgotten the deep stillness. You wake up some morning and you are greeted by a new blossom.

The blossoming seems to be the fruit of the stillness.

The "deep stillness" is a kind of womb we cannot live without.

As we grow further away from our mother's womb

we find new wombs to hold us.

~~new wombs to sustain and nurture us~~

Haunting memories lead us toward a depth we once enjoyed.

Deep Stillness infuses us and the blossoms become visible.

An inquisitive mind, an open heart,

a childlike trust, a yearning for the Divine:

all of these are like fertilizer for the waiting blossoms.

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

If you are reading this and don't quite understand what I am trying to say, try saying it in your own words and you will fathom the depths of these simple words.

Mystical Morning

2011-01-08T17:03:00.000-08:00

How could anyone sleep on a morning like this?

You are beholding one of our retreatants saying,

"Hola" to the new day.

Or, perhaps she is saying NADA!

How much we need such moments!

How much we need such mornings!

Drink in the wondrous inheritance of being!

Sip the nectar of morning!

O dear medicinal morning!

Awaken the mystic in me!

Awaken the poet and the monk!

How could anyone sleep on a morning like this?

ADIOS 2010

2011-01-02T07:03:00.000-08:00

Dec. 31, 2010--Jan 1, 2011

I am never quite certain at just what moment the old year slides into the new year and most of us probably don't feel all that different as the bells begin to ring out the old, ring in the new. There are some who go into the new year a little more intoxicated perhaps. And so I pray, as I sit in my writing room at my west window beholding the short, though lovely, display of fireworks that has just flashed across my sky--yours too. I pray that you will be intoxicated with life this year, inebriated with the spirit of joy and open to transformation.

I also say good-bye to 2010. I carry into the new year the joyful and sorrowful moments of the old year. I say good-bye (meaning God-be-with-you) in an all embracing way, in the manner you say good-bye to something or someone you once loved and will forever carry in your heart in some mysterious, inexplicable way, Namomi Shihab Nye's poem ADIOS seems the perfect way to say GoodBye so here it is. Eat the words and be grateful.

ADIOS by Namomi Shihab Nye

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

It is a good word, rolling off the tongue

no matter what language you were born with,

Use it, Learn where it begins,

the smallest alphabet of departure,

how long it takes to think of it,

then say it, then be heard.

Marry it. More than any golden ring,

it shines, it shines.

Wear it on every finger till your hands dance,

touching everything easily

letting everything, easily go.

Strap it to your back like wings.

Or a kite-tail. The stream of air behind a jet.

If you are known for anything,

let it be the way you rise out of sight

when your work is finished.

Think of things that linger: leaves

cartons and napkis, the damp smell of mold.

Think of things that disappear.

Think of what you love best,

what brings tears to your eyes.

Something that said "adios" to you

before you knew what it meant

or how long it was for.

Explain little, the word explains itself.

Later perhaps. Lessons following lessons,

like silence following sound.

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

So there! Our work is finished for this year. We let it go. We wave good-by even to the blessings we have missed. They will come around again. Open your eyes. It is going to be a very good year.

Repeat after me!

It is going to be a luminous year!

ADIOS! 2010
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hola 2011

Emmanuel, God-with-us

2010-12-23T09:26:00.001-08:00

~~Last day to sing the O'Antiphons~~

December 23, 2010 O Emmanuel, Come

By now perhaps we are beginning to realize that we are among those people who are dwelling in partial darkness. We also need to remember that we are waiting for someone we already possess. The partial darkeness suggests a hiddeness. Sometimes what is hidden from us is our own goodness, our own light, our Inner Christ.

O Emmanuel, Beautiful Savior, Come into the partial darkness of our lives and reveal your face. You are Emmanuel: God-With-Us. Liberator of all who are in bondage. You are our hope. Come and save us. Make of us your own intimate face of "Joy for the World," O Emmanuel, Desire of the Nations, Come and set us free. O Come.

Go now and become God's personal JOY TO THE WORLD!

O Light Eternal, O Ruler of Nations

2010-12-21T08:37:00.000-08:00

The joy of "O!" continues in our daily prayer

as we hear the mystical poet, Rumi, proclaim:

"Keep knocking and the joy inside

will eventually open a window

and look out to see who is there."

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

December 21 (winter solstice) ~~

Today is our rising-sun day. Our eagness for the Dawn of God

to break into our lives grows stronger. And so we pray...

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

O DAWNING LIGHT FROM THE EAST,

O Rising Sun bursting out of the darkness,

O Sacred Sun of Justice,

Come with your luminous face of Glory.

Shine on all who wait in darkness

for the radiance of your healing.

O You who are the splendor of Eternal Light,

enlighten us in our waiting.

O Come and shine on the embers of our hope.

O Come! O Come! O Come!

O Dear Desire of Every Nation! Our God is not a tribal God but a God whose heart includes all. In the eye of this Divine Lover we are one tribe. We are all in this Eternal Lover's tribe! Yes, All of us! Oh that we might live this truth...

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

December 22, 2011~~ We pray to One who is all inclusive:

O Servant King of the Nations~~ O deep, dear desire of every longing heart, you are the Messiah, the Anointed One for whom we have waited with eagerness. You are the foundation of our lives. Come to all the nations. Lay your hands upon the earthen vessels of our lives. Unite us as One People. Break into our hearts and reveal to us our own love. This is the hidden love we never knew we possessed! This is the inclusive love that leaves no one out. ...and we never knew we possessed such love until you broke into our lives. O, joy of every longing heart!

O Servant King, O Come.

O Root of Jessie--O Key of David

2010-12-19T11:20:00.001-08:00

As Christmas draws near we continue to invoke our God

to come and save us as we sing the hauntingly beautiful o'antiphons.

December 19, 2011 ~~ We honor our roots today. We are a part of our ancestors whether we like it or not. I tend to look at that truth in joy even though we can be fairly certain that not everything in our blood line is or was as we would have desired it to be. It's really ok! Into our lives with all its faithfulness and sinfulness God comes. Jessie is a metaphor for someone in our orginal history who was faithful.

O ROOT OF JESSIE~~Tree of Life, You are a sign for all peoples. Let the mighty ones fall silent before you. You have flowered forth from the royal line of King David. You are our servant king. Let the nations bow before you. Come, take root in us. Help us to blossom forth from your Servant-Heart. Deliver us quickly, O Come!

December 20, 2011~~Just as it was from David's line that the Christ was to be born; it is from our line that "the-Christ-life" is to continue. Where is the key that will reach the hearts of the nations? Christ is that key! And we, also, must become the key that unlocks closed doors and closed hearts.

O Key of David, Shepherd King and Holder of life, you unlocked the door to God's heart. Come, free all that is captive within us. Pry open our self-made prisons. Break the chains of those who use their power to keep others imprisoned. Lead all captives into freedom. Set free those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. O Come!

Break the chains

of those who use their power

to keep others imprisoned!

O Wisdom, Come

2010-12-16T20:29:00.000-08:00

OK! OK!

Someone just informed me

that I've been dancing a little too fast

and a bit too long

so I will try to come back.

Advent seems like a good time to return.

The O Antiphons begin today~~for Christians, these ancient voices speak of our longing for the coming of the One who will save us from all those lost and exiled parts of ourselves. Indeed, the one who is coming is the One we call our Savior. And so we clear a space inside our hearts for the names of God to live.

We begin by focusing on the word, O! In this case it is more than a letter in the alphabet. It is the wonder, surprise, joy, exuberance that we experience when something "goes wide in our hearts" and causes us to exclaim, "O!" It is the miracle of the Christ we are waiting for and sometimes we find that Christ in unexpected places.

December 17, 2011: Today we cry out,

O Wisdom, you came forth from the mouth of the Most High reaching to the ends of the earth. O Sapientia, O Holy Word of God, you rule all of creation with your firm, yet tender care, Come, Open up the highway of our hearts to receive your salvation. O Come!

December 18: O Lord and Loaf-Giver for the House of Israel (and now for our own households) You appeared to Moses in a burning bush. You gave him the Holy Law on Mt. Sinai. Teach us to look at the law as little lights along the way. You pass out loaves and rekindle weary hearts. O Come with your all-embracing arms to set us free. O Come!

~~Prayers somewhat adapted by Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB

See You Shortly

2010-12-09T19:18:00.000-08:00

I'll be back real soon!

I'm dancing just as fast as I can!

Feast of Mechtild of Magdeburg

2010-11-19T10:05:00.000-08:00

Let me begin by apologizing for those animated butterflies leaping around at the beginning of my last post. I didn't know they were animated or they would probably not have been chosen to adorn my site. I am not ordinarily into things jumping around on my screen. It reminds me too much of my own somewhat disordered life. I run too much, move too much. I am longing for quiet places and caves these days.

On the other hand we sang a song to honor Mechtild of Magdeburg (1207-1294) this morning at mass and I was so moved by the images of her passion, love and exuberance. She was a medieval mystic and in her book, The Flowing Light of Divinity she describes her visions of God. Ofcourse the leaping comes out of the stillness. That exuberance for God flows out of time spent BEING with God. The words we sang this morning were written by Marietta Crahan, OSB and in singing them I decided that perhaps the dancing butterflies from my last post were not so harmful after all.

I cannot dance unless you lead,

With eager heart, for you I long.

With holy abandon I would leap,

But Lord you must intone the song.

Then I shall leap into your love,

from love to knowledge, if you will,

From knowledge into pure delight

Then, Lord, to circle higher still.

To be your partner in this dance,

Is this too much, Lord, to be true

for one who has no love in her

Unless she first is moved by you?

A fish in water does not drown,

No bird will plummet from the air.

In God my nature is at home,

My dance of praise is everywhere.

O Jesus, joy of loving hearts,

Be now our song for endless days.

We honor Mechtild's mystic dream,

And long to share her dance of praise.

I am grateful for these words that made my heart leap this morning at dawn. From all this leaping the stillness will arrive. I honor everything in you, dear reader, that is exuberant and passionate and wise, even if it is still sleeping.

The Kingdom of God is Within You

2010-10-29T07:52:00.000-07:00

--from the MEDITATIONS

of Jacob Trapp

Above all

may we keep our wonder

at great and noble things,

like sunlight and thunder

the rain and the stars,

the wind and the sea,

the growth of trees

and the return of harvests,

and the greatness of heroes.

May we come to learn

in our own experience,

in the ineffable mystery

and wonder of our souls,

who he was

and what he meant,

who said,

"The Kingdom of God

is within you."

I have been away from this blog longer than I wished yet we do what we must do and for me, that has been a lot of travel these past months. Yet there in the midst of my travels I reveled in sunlight and shadows, rain and snow and stars, the return of spring and summer, the wind and falling autumn leaves and Pikes Peak, and other mountains and gardens and gardens of flowers. And above all the hearts and faces of people who held both joy and sorrow. Strong, courageous, seeking people! Individual faces I cannot always remember but the memory of the mosaic of faces is very stirring and poignant within me. In my prayer this morning I saw them again,
faces from:

Ringwood, New Jersey
Ashville, North Carolina
Lake Junaluska, North Carolina
Fort Smith, Arkansas
Atchison, Kansas
Bristow, Virginia
Colorado Springs, Colorado

Beautiful people who do not always remember that the Reign of God is within them.

So that is why I am reminding you...

The Reign of God

is Within You!

Today I Will Be A Poet

2010-10-01T11:57:00.000-07:00

Although September was a wonderful ly creative month, it appears not to have been a very productive month for my blog. I am just fine with that though. My promise to myself is not to make unnecessary rules and demands. It seems important to enjoy what I do, thus I must practice giving myself positive messages. I am getting a little better with this though it is still a practice. ~~~~This summer I took an online creative class from the Abbey of the Arts. If you don't know about this wonderful site just google it and it will appear. Some day I will take the time to learn how to put those wonderful links into my blog where you can just click and BEHOLD! What you click you will see. That day has not yet arrived. I would like to gift you with a poem written during my monk/artist class. Enjoy it as you honor the monk and artist in your own deep soul.

Today I Will Be a Poet

Today I will be a poet

"like a feather on the breath of God,"

I will yield to the untraceable wind

sensing myself being breathed into the mystery.

Today I will gather beauty

I will see with the eye of the Beloved

I will practice adoring every little thing

I will listen to the voice of the moon flower

and kneel at the roots of the Sycamore.

Today I will be obedient

to water, wind, earth and fire,

as they allow the Divine to speak through them

I, too, will allow myself to be spoken through.

Today I will be a poet, a monk and an artist.

When light climbs out of the sweet darkness,

falling down in golden streams

upon my mystic heart,

I will stand in the light fall

and become a vessel of light and darkness.

My Heart Will Overflow

With Eternal Questions!

Poet, monk, artist, mystic:

siblings on our beautiful earth

answers to eternal questions

containers of light and dark

keepers of a 'power' that saves.

~~Macrina Wiederkehr

[written on the altar of daily life]

The angel of creativity

2010-09-15T09:10:00.001-07:00

It hasn't been easy- --finding time to return to this blog. I keep breaking my own rules about taking time to pause each day. A few days ago I found a marvelous piece of advice in the book, Leading from Within. It came in the form of a question asked by Ted Falcom: How can I learn to say "No" so that my "Yes" has real meaning? I need to write this question on my forehead.

Of course, if I do say YES when, perhaps, I ought to have said NO, I am then in the position of trying to be faithful to my YES. This has been my stance these days---practicing being faithful to the YES. Yesterday some unknown angel (perhaps the angel of creativity) came to my assistance. In straightening up some piles of "stuff to be filed" an old greeting card slipped out of a magazine. It was a photo of dragonfly resting on some long green stems in a pond. Below the photo was an inspiring quote from the poet, Rabindranath Tagore:

The same stream of life
that runs through the world,
runs through my veins night and day
and dances in rhythmic measure.
It is the same life that shoots in joy
through the dust of the Earth
into the numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of flowers.
~~Tagore

Upon reading these words I experienced a piercing of the heart. Immediately I became aware that it was time for me, once again, to lean into creativity. I need to discern how to facilitate the stream of life pulsing through my veins. Pausing is not an option; it is essential for your health. If you keep the door of your heart unlocked, the angel of creativity will soon or later catch up with you. She will teach you to pause.

Finding Treasures in Old Journals

2010-08-28T19:05:00.000-07:00

I am reading my old journals: smiling, weeping, pondering, wondering--tearing them up and throwing them away, saving certain pieces. After all, when you are a writer who lives in community you must be careful. No one lives forever; I could die and some fool might come along and try to publish my journals. I guess I like to be in charge. This morning I came across a quote I had written in my journal from one of my shining lights who died a few years ago, Sister Jose Hobday. This quote is worth sharing. I'm kind of glad she didn't tear it up and throw it away: Here is what she says:

Today only one thing must be accomplished.

I must move through the hours with more quality

and meet people with more love

and diminish my own personal selfishness...

when I go to bed tonite let there be

more light in this world because

I have walked the earth

Let there be more people aware that they are

gift and blessing and goodness.

Let me understand that all there is to life

is what I'm really living with quality.

the rest passes me by unnoticed.

--Sister Jose Hobday

Amen to that dear sister who is now

helping to light up the heavens

with your own vibrant life!

Each road has a voice

2010-08-12T14:29:00.000-07:00

The Road

Here is the road: the light

comes and goes then returns

Be gentle with your fellow travelers

as they move through

the world of stone and stars

whirling with you

yet everyone alone.

The road waits

Do not ask questions

but when it invites you

to dance at daybreak

say YES.

Each step is a journey;

a single note the song.

--Arlene Gay Levine

taken from Bless the Day

ed. by June Cotner

I don't know what your road looks like these days but never pass up an invitation to dance at dawn. Don't worry about what your neighbors think. If they are lucky enough to see you, they may even smile. Dawn is difficult for some people; that I know! But if you can give up a bit of your uncertainty about morning, maybe even the untruth that you don't like morning you may be in for a great awakening. And even if you don't like morning, think about the road. Each road has a voice and it's waiting for you.

What Light Can Do

2010-08-09T07:26:00.000-07:00

The poet, Lucy Shaw, offers us a little gospel when she says: "Light can make even dirt blossom." I will hang on to her piece of truth as I embrace both the light and darkness of today.

I went outside chasing the light this morning and it was just the medicine I needed to bring me back to my writer's altar. Having been FOUND BY LIGHT I am now making a choice to have a good day. All day, even in my writer-block moments I will try to remember the light, suggesting that if you should get stuck in any sort of negativity today you might consider going out and standing in the light.

I am not the only creature who was found by light today. Pray with the sacramentality of the image below and rejoice in everything and everyone that will be FOUND BY LIGHT today.

A Cave of Quiet

2010-08-03T08:01:00.000-07:00

There is no doubt in my mind that I am not called to the life of a hermit but I am looking for a cave of quiet. The little collage above I created for an on-line class that I signed up for in a moment of holy insanity. It depicts my desire to return to the monk and the artist in me. I need only gaze upoon it, to experience a quieting within.

Why it is so difficult to get my deepest desires to hold hands with my distractions is somewhat of an enigma. I suffer from and am blessed with creative distraction, often known as ADHD.

People seem surprised to learn that even with my ADHD nature I am so drawn to the prayer of quiet. "Are you able to sit still when you meditate?" they ask me. My answer to that question is, "Yes, I am able to be very still.!" Once I arrive at my place of prayer I actually feel at home. But you see, my difficulty is not sitting still; my struggle is with what happens "on the way to the cushion." On the way to the cushion can be anguish. Still, I choose to call it creative distraction because in those moments of disruption some very exciting and beautiful things occur. Things that were not on my schedule or my "to do" list suddenly become little miracles of grace. New ideas arrive.

Truly, it is both a suffering and a blessing. For years I beat myself up because there were no stop signs on the way to the cushion and yet I stopped. Now I am trying to be more gentle with the stops along the way because you see my goal is not really getting to the cushion. My goal, if there is such a creature, is being present to all that IS. My desire is to rest in the Holy Mystery and sometimes that happens before I arrive at the cushion. What I want is to be utterly present to every moment. What I want is to be Christ!

It is true that on the days I actually arrive at the cushion I often weep. But I am not sad! When I look at the picture above I weep. But I am not sad. My tears know more than I do. That's why I listen .

There is so much grace in waiting

2010-07-20T11:15:00.000-07:00

If possible

open your eyes

without assistance

from an alarm clock.

If possible

smile softly

while getting out of bed.

You have survived the night.

Draw back the curtain

to the yet black night

outside your window.

Stand by the window

and wait for dawn,

then, morning.

There is so much grace

in waiting.

If your eyes are sleepy,

pretend they are two planets

in the galaxy of your being

and they are responsible

for keeping the day lit.

Go forth, kindler of the day

Fill the world with light.

Your mission is sacramental.

-Macrina Wiederkehr

Canticle after Vespers

2010-07-15T15:58:00.000-07:00

One evening, after Vespers, about two Augusts, ago I sat on the porch of my hermitage at Hesychia House of Prayer and beheld the evening moving slowly into night. It was a beautiful beholding! No journal or bible in sight, I did Lectio with the Twilight Hour. After I went into my hermitage I sat down and wrote what I remembered. I named it Canticle after Vespers: progressive view from a country porch swing.

Day is done

Three cows in the pond

One cow thinking about going into the pond

Fifteen cows grazing in the green shadowed grass

One cow mournfully mooing

as though our world will never be healed

Three calves joyfully frolicking

as though there is no need for mouning at all

four layers of blue green hills as a back drop

Three humming birds hovering over my head

Two mocking birds sitting on the fence

One glowing sun descending in the west

One August moon rising in the east

Three lazy purple clouds saying their night prayers

Only God knows how many locusts singing from the trees

A sweet summer breeze coming in from the east

One August moon growing larger

One lone firefly looking for a mate

One August moon growing bright as a harvest moon

Three stars coming out to look at the moon

One mooing cow (finally) lying down to rest

A great star family growing in number

The choir of locusts ending their song

Three more fireflies joining the loner

The canopy of night sky remembering the earth

A great silence falling upon me

A small joy spreading through me

A large wish for world peace washing over me

Fifty-five wordless prayers dwelling within me

Day is done.

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

_Macrina Wiederkehr, taken from The Circle of Life

[written at Hesychia House of Prayer,

founding site of St. Scholastica Monastery]

This is a wonderful exercise for the soul. Go outside or just sit by a window. Your homework is to spend time beholding. After about a half hour, go away from the sight you were beholding and in poetry form, record what you remember.

The Feast of St. Benedict

2010-07-11T12:26:00.000-07:00

Happy Feast of St. Benedict to all who love the Benedictine Way! I love feasts! Although there are special days and occasions when we celebrate in a more elaborate way, it is possible to turn very ordinary moments into feasts. That is my speciality in life. I've always had the ability to turn unexpected moments of beauty into a feast. This morning for awhile I feasted on the light coming through the trees. When we feast we often think of creative dinners and beautiful plates of food. This morning I feasted on the scriptures. While praying my Lectio Divina using the first reading from mass (for the feast of St. Benedict) I decided to read very slowly and just gather insights....The reading was Proverbs 2: 1-11. For this special feast I would like to share, with you, some of my gathered thoughts and prayers:

receive and treasure
turn ear, incline heart
ear to wisdom
heart to understanding
hidden treasures of wisdom
seek her like silver
soon you will understand
from the mouth of the Holy One
God is a shield
guarding the path
every good path
strewn with justice and honesty
your heart will be a guest for wisdom
discretion will watch over you
understanding will guard you

When you open the pages of your scripture, remember that these words can become a feast. All that is required is your presence with an open mind and an open heart. In honor of St. Benedict find a little cave today, a space to rest awhile and think about the things that truly matter.

When you eat your next meal, look at your plate and know that the feast does not consist solely in eating the food before you; but also in enjoying the precious gift of the ones who are around your table--and should you be eating alone, try to remember all who have sat at your table from your childhood to the present moment. Your table is crowded with guests.

HAPPY FEAST!

Let the Light Fall

2010-07-05T14:48:00.000-07:00

In my prayer this morning St. Benedict's words from the rule kept moving through my mind:

Keep death daily before your eyes.

I have lost a number of friends to cancer recently and so my meditation turned into a question, "How do I feel about the impermanence of life?" In a world that makes such a god of time, how do I feel about this fleeting god? As I continued to meditate on the reality of death I knew immediately that I would like for death to be as much of a friend as possible. And so I turned to thoughts on "daily dying." Every little death brings life. The image that came to me in my prayer is that of little bits of light falling on me at every moment, at every death. All death, even the daily dyings, involve some kind of surrender. If I live with my eyes wide open that surrender can be life giving.

Use the picture above for your own reflection. It was taken on the beautiful grounds of Mt St. Francis Spiritual Center in Ringwood, New Jersey where I just led a 5-day silent retreat. It is a sunset picture and notice how the light is falling so gently on the dying day. As I prayed in joyful and painful remembrance about the friends I have lost through death, especially death to cancer, a poem by Mary Bradish O'Connor came to my mind. I found it in my poetry archives marked, "favorites" and decided to share it here in my post on thoughts about dying.

Get over it. there's a tear in the fabric

of forever and it's just the way

it is. God didn't tap you on the back

because you were a bad girl and today

you pay for it. You did nothing wrong.

It wasn't all the walks you didn't take

or Irish luck that tossed you headlong

into cancer. Consider this a wake-up

call and live your gift of days with joy.

Walk the edge where air is thin and clear,

where fear can take you further.

It's just another country.

Chin up. Step through the door.

Each breath in, a miracle.

Each breath out, a letting go.

--Taken from "Say Yes Quickly"

by Mary Bradish

-Pot Shard Press 1997

When I first read this poem it was an ouch-poem. I didn't quite know what to do with it. I wasn't sure I could ever read it to a friend who had cancer; but then I thought that I would very much like for someone to read it to me if I had cancer. Knowing that the author wrote it after her diagnoses of ovarian cancer moves me deeply. The words, "It's just another country," have remained with me as have the words: "Each breath in, a miracle and each breath out, a letting go." That is something I can begin to practice right now. I, who, try daily to keep death before my eyes choose impermanence as my daily companion. The comforting part of my meditation today is a vision of the light falling around me at every moment. There is always something/someone dying. Let the light fall on all our daily dyings.

Oh! Let the Light fall!

Still Trying To Listen

2010-06-26T09:25:00.000-07:00

LISTEN WITH THE EAR OF YOUR HEART!

Written June 23, 2010

This evening on the vigil of the feast of St. John the Baptist and the 51st anniversary of my monastic profession, I sat down at my little altar in my bedroom (which also might be considered my monk cell) and listened for a long spell. Or, I guess you might say: I kept vigil. I love Vigils. They call me to stand before those things that were and are sacred. To symbolically stand before the mystery of my 51 years as a monastic was a very special prayer.

I am not so sure I knew what I was doing 51 years ago. Today as I prepare to renew my promises/vows I have a much clearer picture of why I am here although I must say that I still lack full understanding.

On the Vigil of my 51st anniversary I prayed with one of my favorite passages from the Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 72: On the Good Zeal of Monks. I am quoting a bit of this passage for your own reflection because the message is very obviously one that could speak to you in whatever way of life you have chosen.

“…This, then, is the good zeal which monks must foster with fervent love; “They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other." (Rom12:10) supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience to one another. …and let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ.”

June 24, 2010

My anniversary was made even more special this year by the fact that Sister Cecelia Marie made her final profession today. As I was praying with the word “final” in regard to my own monastic life I found myself smiling with a kind of new enlightenment. I know what final is supposed to mean.; I have pondered often on the promise of stability in the monastic way of life and am aware of the possibility of finding God wherever I am. I do not have to get on a jet plane to find Christ in some foreign place (although that could at times be a true call). In a world that finds stability difficult I choose stability.

But today I also was given the insight that nothing is final, not even monastic promises. Every morning I must renew my vows again. Every morning I discover new ways to say, “Yes.” Every morning I stand before the mystery of my “Suscipe” and renovate my way of being obedient to Christ in this community. Every day I renovate my heart.

I Am Still Trying to Listen With

the Ear of My Heart!

SILENCIO

2010-06-23T12:38:00.000-07:00

When I visited the Sistine Chapel in summer of 2008 the guards were forever crying out, SILENCIO. People would become silent for awhile and then their voices would rise again. I appreciated the reminder to view all that awesome sacred art in silence.

Whenever I stand before beauty, I tend to be drawn into what I call a natural silence. There are many kinds of beauty: a loaf of bread--just out of the oven, a rotten log surrounded by buttercups, a tear, a smile, mist rising from the pond, flowers struggling in the summer heat, orchards and vineyards laden with fruit. It may not be the Sistine Chapel but in these moments also I often hear an unknown voice chanting, SILENCIO. What do you say when there's nothing to say? Say nothing!

I reflected on this last week while I was in silence during our community retreat. We didn’t have any sister-guards standing around calling out SILENCIO, and for the most part that wasn’t needed. In a monastic community, silence during a retreat is kind of taken for granted. We need to go beyond just taking it for granted though. Each time I attend a retreat, the value of silence is renewed for me. I find myself being encouraged and invited to build time for solitude and silence every day—not just while on retreat.

I will be leading a contemplative retreat in Colorado Springs in October of 2010 and was recently asked by one of the leaders if the retreat was a totally silent retreat. In my prayer I reflected on how to answer that question and these are the words I was given:

“Although the retreat is not totally silent we assume that if you come to a contemplative experience you will have some desire to be led to the deepening places which requires a faithful listening to the spaces between the words. We would also hope to find in you a willingness to help create the kind of atmosphere in which your companion seekers in the retreat will be led to live in the shade and the shadow of God’s wings.”

As I think over that answer I am reminded of a moment during our community retreat when I was drawn into gratitude because of the sensitivity of the people who work at our monastery. I was alone in the dining room having coffee after one of the conferences. Two of our workman came in and sat down at a table to have coffee. Aware of my presence, they were totally silent even though they ordinarily talk at their coffee break. Their choice of silence struck me as a gesture of loving support for my retreat. I received it as their gift to me.

As I walk through the garden these hot summer days it is as though all of nature is crying out without words: SILENCIO.

Where do you find moments for silence

and solitude in your daily life?

What calls you into the quiet?

At dawn, after struggling to be born;

The Moon Flower lifts up its face

and again I hear the invitation,

SILENCIO!

Traveling Without a Camera

2010-06-09T07:57:00.000-07:00

On my recent trip I decided to leave my camera at home. Sometimes when I travel with a camera I am not truly present to the beauty I see because I am trying to capture everything. My intention was to be more mindful and simply take it all in through the lens of my eye. It was a wonderful spiritual practice although I had my moments of longing for the camera. I was in western Pennsylvania surrounded by the Allegheny National Forest and there were certainly many photographic moments that I had to sacrifice. The Olmstead Manor Retreat Center was beautifully bathed in Spring Blossoms, little waterfalls coming from the forest hills was music for the heart. Mt. St. Benedict Monastery in Erie, PA also provided much meditation material. Even my sojourn in airports fed my soul because I made the intention to see as purely and contemplatively as possible. I practiced beholding all the beauty. I relied on my heart’s memory and brought it all home with me. This morning while praying I decided to take out my snapshot memories and pray with them. So although I don’t have any photos to share with you, here are some of my memories, I invited you to envision them like a slide show and let each one be as a beautiful icon in a picture frame. You might even hang them on the wall of your heart:

two red-tailed hawks playing in the clouds
the window in my bedroom framing pink and white blossoms supported by tree branches of lacy green leaves.
streams of water flowing through green moss and falling into small pools of water
the morning mist encircling a lone walker on the labyrinth
freshly anointed stones on a small altar, built in honor of the places where God has visited us.
retreatants sitting quietly in green places, meditating
the prelude to a sunset on Lake Erie
a little girl in the airport, dancing without reserve
moving slowly through the light filled tunnel in the Detroit airport even though I was aware that my plane was already boarding and I had a long hike to the gate
Belle flowers (which I had never seen before) pink, purple and white, making silent music
the night blooming cereus
stones loving placed in the memory garden on the grounds of Mt. St. Benedict Monastery in Erie, PA
a small flower growing out of a piece of bark

Yes, the lens of the eye is sacred. It, too, has its memory card. Sometimes I see things more clearly with the pure light of the soul. Constantly, life unfurls before our eyes--even when we aren't looking. Open your eyes this week. At the end of the week (or day) you, too, might want to share a few photograpic icons stored in your soul's memory card.

Sun's Wordless Voice

2010-05-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

Amazing how the sun

can speak through trees!

Telling thousands of stories

with one earthward glance!

Stand still today and see what must be seen

Let the shadows hold your heart

All this is the illuminating

face of God!

All this is prayer!

And you?

Whoever you are,

How are you spoken through?

This, too, is prayer!

--macrina

Move into your House of Joy

2010-05-23T10:24:00.000-07:00

Today is the feast of Pentecost and since the Spirit has most likely fallen upon us--oh, I hope that each of us will find some time to just sit quietly and take it all in: the awesome truth that we have been chosen to breathe the Holy Mystery into the world, that we have been called to let the fire of God burn into our fragile clay and teach us how to shine.

To say what I really want to say I will borrow some words from the mystical poet, Rumi:

If you knew yourself for even one moment
If you could just glimpse your beautiful soul,
maybe you wouldn’t slumber so deeply
in that house of clay.
Why not move into your house of joy
~~and shine into every crevice!
For you are a treasure and always have been.
DIDN’T YOU KNOW?

--Rumi, slightly tampered with by Macrina

Being Chosen

2010-05-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

The cave pictured here is a shrine of St. Benedict on our monastery grounds. The season of spring gave the shrine a special charm this year as Benedict seemed to be walled in by Forsythia. If you are going to spend your life in a cave, that is a mighty nice door. I have been meditating on Benedict’s life in the cave of Subiaco, Italy for some time now, meaning that I am still trying to discern how to be who I say I am, a monastic, a Benedictine. My personal prayer, these days, has been almost entirely given over to praying the rule in light of my own faithfulness to it. Sometimes I find it helpful to remain with a specific theme for a long time.

The two themes that have chosen me recently are simplicity and silence. I had no intention of choosing either of these topics when I begin to listen to Benedict in the rule (and in the cave); but they chose me. Simplicity chose me first so I will dwell on that. Living a life of simplicity does not necessarily mean living a life of destitution. Recently simplicity has asked me to be obedient to the things, people, events that surround me rather than looking for my needs/wants in a thousand other places. And so I am trying to attend what is nearby. I am trying to be more aware. I am looking with the eyes of my soul; but it is still difficult especially when it comes to people: fellow monks, sister monks. Whatever! --meaning of course, my monastic community! A quote from a spiritual letter from the early 20th century nourished me today. I eat anything I can find these days, as long as it is nearby. I did not go out and buy this book. I didn’t even go to the city library. It just sort of fell on top of me. Ah, it chose me!

“I charge you to release yourselves from the last strain
of materialism for then only are you protected; I charge
you to be forgiving and patient with all persons whether
they be stupid, melancholy or evil and to keep your
face always uplifted to the highest intent, for this,
above all, releases your life from all violence;
I charge you to live in faith, for this will give you
a splendor, a light which will be manifest to all the
bewildered, the lonely, the harassed—a beacon in
the storm. Stand to your full stature, for I bear witness
that eternal love can be reached.”

-Letters of the Scattered Brotherhood

Well! For someone who lives in community that sounds like a sweet challenge. And so I will give it an honest try. I really do believe that we are found by grace each day. I intend to practice noticing being found. ...more later!

Benedictine Renewal

2010-05-04T18:53:00.000-07:00

In the summer of 2008 I enjoyed the immense blessing of being able to attend a month-long Benedictine Renewal program in Rome. One of the highlights of my trip was the opportunity to visit the Benedictine shrines in the area.

While I was in the cave of St. Benedict in Subiaco I was drawn to write a prayer to Benedict and Scholastica. Because my last post addresses my desire to renew, in my life, all that it means to be a Benedictine I am drawn now to share with you the prayer I wrote in Benedict's cave in Italy.

Holy Father Benedict,
I, too, taste the emptiness
from which you turned aside.
I, too, feel drawn to deeper places.
Your ancient desire
to be anchored in God Alone
sings in the marrow of my bones.
Your holy discontent
led you to a sacred cave
where you could listen intensely
to the One who was listening to you.
Teach me the art of deep listening.
Lead me to my own sacred space.
Intensify my longing for silence.
Make me hungry for
the medicine of God’s Word.
Open the ears of my heart.
Transform me into a sacro speco.

Holy Mother Scholastica,
May the love that drew
tears from your eyes
prime the well of my own love.
Instill in me a great yearning
for frequent holy conversation
with members of my community.

Benedict and Scholastica,
twin lovers of Christ,
Enable us, your disciples,
to blossom with fidelity
to the monastic way of life.
Make our hearts overflow
with the unspeakable
sweetness of love
that we may prefer
nothing whatever to Christ.

—Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB, June 12, 2008
Sacro Speco, Subiaco, Italy

The Boat I Travel in

2010-04-25T13:49:00.000-07:00

Recently someone asked me why I was carrying the Holy Rule around so much and I said, "Well, you see, I'd really like to be a Benedictine." The one who had questioned me looked surprised and said, "But you are a Benedictine!" I just smiled and later when I was at prayer I thought a long time about that funny little conversation that ended so unfinished. Then I remembered a meditation I wrote for my Jubilee last summer. I borrowed the idea from Balbir Mathur from a reflection called Planting One Tree at a Time that I found in Heron Dance. I read my meditation once again with that same haunting longing to really become a Benedictine.

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

The boat I travel in is called Monastic Life. My two chief oars are named for what I most need to keep me faithful to the monastic way of life. One of my oars is called: Seeking God. The other is called, Giving up My Own Will. There are other oars that I keep ready at my side, close at hand, lest I have a sudden inner conversion that requires some quick changes in my course. These oars are Loving Determination (in monastic language—better known as Stability), Radical Simplicity, Prayer, Obedience, the Common Life (also known as Community), Peace, Christ, the Spirit of St. Benedict, Gospel Values and Flawed Love. I know that Flawed Love sounds like a strange oar to cherish, yet it is the only love I have known and I have discovered even love with flaws has amazing powers, and who knows? … as I travel on in my monastic boat with my little oar of Flawed Love some day it may miraculously be transformed into the unfeigned love that I am asked to strive for in Chapter 72 of the Rule.

There are a few other oars laying around in the back of my boat. The fact that they are in the back by no means implies they are unimportant. They, too, are in ready reach. They are very necessary tools for my monastic journey. Their names are Bright Joy, Wonder, Beauty, Mindfulness, Creativity, Passion, Deep Listening, and Extravagant Yearning.

I have been in this boat for fifty years and sometimes I ache at how far away I seem to be from the Shore of my Longing and from that wild, pure, passionate light that we call Everlasting Life (which could be a kind of heaven on earth) but for the most part I am good at forgiving myself and others—so I’ll row on with my spare oars of Courage and Patience seeking God and trying to give up my own will.

Tiptoeing Around the Truth

2010-04-20T14:28:00.001-07:00

This morning I heard myself saying,

“It’s time for me to stop tiptoeing around the truth

in my personal life, in my work relationships and beyond.”

Well, that’s easy to say

but what do I really mean when I speak those words?
And so, my morning meditation

was filled with thoughts about

how to be truthful without being haughty
how to be truthful without sounding self-righteous
how to be truthful without blaming
how to be truthful without false expectations
how to be truthful without being harsh
how to be truthful without being insensitive
how to be truthful with myself

Words from an old song or poem keep moving through my mind:
“And you bring me down with truth

when lies have filled my life.”

Thus as my meditation continued

I decided to begin with an attempt

to stop tiptoeing around the truth

in regard to my personal life.

Oh My! Lord, please don’t speak very loud.

Some wonderful words

from Dom Helder Camara come to my rescue.
After so many years, what joy

to find these words still in the archive of my heart:

"Do not fear the truth
hard as it may appear;
grievously as it may hurt
it is still right
and you were born for it.
If you go out to meet
and love it,
let it exercise your mind,
it is your best friend
and closest sister."

-Dom Helder Camara

Labyrinth Liturgy

2010-04-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

April 17, 2010 -- This was a wonderful day. We had a labyrinth clean up day and accomplished much. Actually it was a liturgical celebration even if our workers weren't aware of that. Although today the word LITURGY is commonly understood as a worship that happens in church. In ancient times it had a broader meaning. A liturgy is a work done by the people for the good of all the people of God. Yesterday was truly a liturgy. Everyone did their part even if they couldn't be working on the labyrinth.

Dee, Mike and Julie brought pine needles, Sister Hilary brought food. Sister Pat washed off the tables for our picnic. Others prayed for us. Some have promised to donate supplies for upkeep of the labyrinth, others promised assistance with watering. Our infirmary Sisters looked out of the window and cheered us on. In beautifying our labyrinth we were performing this liturgy for our retreatants and guests. Clara Jane, Lisa, Karin, and Linda who assist in taking care of the labyrinth gardens on a regular basis couldn't be there but we did see the fruits of their liturgical service and we added our own love to their flower beds which belong to us all. Oh, and lest I forget: Sr. Pat and our cat, Toby, spend a little time weeding many evenings.

The labyrinth is a wonderful prayer walk for our often over-stressed hearts. I especially like the fact that it slows us down. We walk into the center slowly releasing the obstacles in our lives asking questions like: What prevents me from forgiving? Where do I need to loosen my grip? What blocks my heart? What do I need to release? Our walk into the center is a walk of RELEASE.

When we arrive in the Center we open our hearts and stand with attention to RECEIVE. We accept the gift of the graces we need to be a living liturgy in the lives of others. We trust that all shall come to pass as is needed for the good of our souls. We see our lives unfolding as flowers opening. We yearn to be a part of the healing of the wounds of the world.

The walk out of the labyrinth is a RETURN to our daily tasks knowing that faith has touched us in the areas of our greatest needs. We return with faith. We own the beautiful truth of our lives unfolding as a daily liturgical service.

RELEASE ~~~RECEIVE~~~RETURN!

To those of you who helped

and to those who will help in the future,

we have tattoed THANK YOU

on our hearts.

The Common Life

2010-04-14T08:30:00.000-07:00

My Bench

I am still mulling around with yesterday morning’s first reading for Eucharist: It was about the community of believers in the early church being of one heart and mind, no one claiming exclusive rights to possession but holding all in common. I stared at those words for a long time yesterday and I am still contemplating them today.

I suppose this is what we are to do in our monastic community but oh, my, the purity of the original concept is surely lost if it ever was a true reality. Perhaps it is just an ideal and there is nothing wrong with having ideals as long as we make some kind of progress in transforming them into reality. It occurs to me that I often show more faithfulness in caring for a possession when it is mine (whatever that means) When it belongs to everybody there is the temptation to think the next person who uses it will take care of it properly.

And how easy it is to claim ownership of things, even when you live in a monastery. I go for an evening walk and discover someone sitting on my bench. Imagine! I sit here at this time every evening and now there is someone else sitting in my space. After all, I’m the one who has been cleaning off the bird poop. I’m the one who has been offering hospitality to that particular bench and now someone else is there usurping the atmosphere that I have made sacred.

Well, you get the drift. It is so easy to claim things as my own. I could, instead, make a choice to gaze at the person on my bench and be glad that I blessed the space for them before they arrived--and now they are blessing it even more with their presence. I especially like the idea of offering hospitality to the things we share in common...and perhaps becoming aware of how all these things serve our needs.

The next time you find an empty bench, please consider sitting there for awhile, asking that we become enlightened as to how we might become "one mind and heart." And while you are there perhaps you will be overcome with gratitude that there are so many things we get to share in common. Then leave the place a little nicer than you found it even if the last person forgot to do that.

Evolve

2010-04-10T18:10:00.000-07:00

We Are Pressured
From Within
To Evolve.

-Karl Rahner

My Lovely Risen Friends

2010-04-04T08:29:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter dear colorful friends…

Here is a little color for your souls. This is what I do with my seldom worn scarves to help them feel fulfilled. I just throw them in a pile on my personal altar and ask them to look beautiful.

There are many who adorn themselves with scarves and look so lovely…but when I try to wear them I end up looking like a May Pole so this seems like a creative and even sacred alternative. As I beheld their splash of color this Easter morning they made me smile and something in me began to feel risen. I go into this day Risen and Lovely, like Jesus, hopefully bringing a little color into the lives of others.

And you, lovely risen friends, go into this world with your splash of color. Tell everyone it’s Easter without using words.

A Beautiful Waste

2010-03-29T08:06:00.000-07:00

Today (Monday of Holy Week)
the gospel reading is the story
of the anointing at Bethany. (Mt 26: 6-13)
Here is my reflection on the experience
taken from my book, Seasons of Your Heart.

On some days, my heart fills up with questions,
and the gift of my life makes no sense at all.
I can still see that woman, bent over Jesus,
pouring out her expensive flask of perfume
for seemingly no reason at all.
What a silly thing to do!
Do not the scoffers have a legitimate complaint?
What is the point of such extravagance?
And who would think that one would become
so extravagant and wasteful,
as to pour out, not only perfume, but life itself?
It is what we are all asked to do
in our ministry. It has never made sense.
It’s a little bit crazy, as is all love,
to pour out your life like that.
On some days, when my hope feels small,
I want to scream out with the scoffers,
“Why such waste?”
But on other days, when my eyes and heart are clear,
…I feel immensely lavish. I feel extravagant!
And with gentle conviction I proclaim:
“What a beautiful waste this is?”

A jar of perfume
poured out over Jesus
and a question is born:
What is the point of such extravagance?

Why this waste?
I don’t know.
I honestly don’t know.
But if this shocks you so,
prepare yourself
for you’ll see more
more than costly perfume poured out.

You’ll see lives poured out
given freely
used up
spilled out
wasted
for no reason at all!

Extravagance unlimited!
Lives poured out
handed over
lost
thrown away
for Jesus!

What is the point of such extravagance?
Why such waste?
Beautiful questions with no answers

and how sad if no one
has ever asked us:
why this extravagance?

Aren’t you wasting your life on Jesus?

--Taken from Seasons of Your Heart, page 179-181
Macrina Wiederkehr--HarperOne Publishers

A Mirror of Light

2010-03-23T08:52:00.000-07:00

Mirrors

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Any angel is frightening.
Yet, because I know of you,
I invoke you in spite of myself,
you lethal birds of the soul.

Fated to be happy from the beginning of time,
creation’s spoiled immortal darlings,
summits of the cosmic shining at dawn,
pollen from heavenly blossoms, limbs of light,
hallway, stairs, thrones carved from existence
shields of ecstasy, shrines of delight—

and suddenly,
each one, mirror:

where our own evanescent beauty
is gathered
into an enduring countenance.

-taken from a Year With Rilke (HarperOne)

On this Feast of the Annunciation is there anything you would like to enunciate? As for me, I have angels on my mind. Having read Rilke’s luminous poem I see mirrors everywhere and sense the lovely truth that each of us is a reflection of Divine Light. We, too, can be messenger angels bringing fresh heart to one another.

Stand before someone who is knee-deep in discouragement and tell them: “Something is ripening in you. Can’t you sense it about to burst forth in radiant blossoms? You, too, can be an angel of light for others. All that seems to be ephemeral in your life is in reality growing wings. Take heart! Lift your wings.” --- Feast of the Annunciation, March 25 , 2010

The Heart of the Hunter

2010-03-19T11:37:00.000-07:00

Today I am beginning my Hunter’s Retreat at our monastery center. I offer it as a retreat for hunters: hunters of God, hunters of the deep self, hunters of meaning and mystery. I call it THE HEART OF THE HUNTER because the tool we are using for the our hunt is the heart. We will be praying with our aboriginal hearts, our seeking hearts, our undivided hearts, our broken and compassionate hearts. There will be space also for the joyful heart.

I love this retreat. I think it is because I am a bit nomadic by nature and probably belong to the hunters. That’s my tribe! (as opposed to the gatherers who settle into one place, tend the crops and wait for the harvest). Belonging to the Hunter Tribe fits me quite well spiritually; for I am always on the move: searching, seeking, reaching beyond what I can see with my visible eye. My hunt is for spiritual food and deep meanings. My hunt is for The Great Mystery. Jesus, the Christ, is my guide. I feed on eternal questions. In spite of being a hunter I long for solitude and have even taken a vow of stability of life which may not seem to fit with a hunter’s heart. Yet even hunters are called into solitude and quiet. As we wait for our prey we learn to keep vigil in the deep forest of our lives. The Hound of Heaven is also tracking us. And yet, to be hunted by God is not to die but to fall in love.

This evening, then, as I attempt to lead the retreatants (the hunters) into the deep forest of themselves to wait in silence for the mystery to be revealed I, too, will journey with them tracking the Mystery. May you, whoever you are, have faith in your aborginal heart!

All About Cows (sort of)

2010-03-09T18:30:00.000-08:00

People sometimes tell me that I am too intense and serious so I have decided to share this little essay about cows, written by a ten year old. I hope this information is helpful and perhaps gives you a good laugh since laughter is wonderful medicine.

All About Cows (sort of)

The cow is a mammal and it is tame. It has six sides: right, left, fore, back, and upper and a below. At the back it has a tail on which hangs a brush. With this it sends flies away, so that they will not fall into the milk.

The head is for the purpose of growing horns, and so that the mouth can be somewhere. The horns are to butt with. The mouth is to moo with.

Under the cow hangs the milk. It is arranged for milking. When people milk, the milk comes, and there is never an end to the supply. How the cow does it I have not yet realized, but it makes more and more.

The cow has a fine sense of smell. One can smell it far away. This is the reason for the fresh air of the country.

The man cow is called an ox, and it is not a mammal. The cow does not eat much but what it eats, it eats twice so that it gets enough. When it is hungry it moos, and when it says nothing, it is because all its inside is full up of grass.

----taken from World Agriculture, written by a ten year old.

I’m sure this is exactly what you’ve been wanting to know.

Taking a little trip; see you when I return.

TO THE BELOVED

2010-03-06T10:58:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago one of my directees looked at the sign laying beside the empty bowl on my Lenten altar with a perplexed look on her face. The sign says, "Free to be Nothing." It is the name of the spiritual reading book I've chosen for Lent and it is written by Ed Farrell. It's an old book--not even in print any more and yes, the title sounds somewhat bleak and uninviting. However, if one peers more deeply into the meaning it isn't as austere as it sounds. It may even be liberating.

I believe the author borrowed the title from Mother Teresa who says that when you are free to be nothing, God can do anything and everything in you. For me it means that I don't have an agenda set in stone. I'm flexible and open for continuing creation. Rather than being a sealed-up space, I am a breathing space for God. Everything about me sings out, Welcome! I am free to be nothing and thus I am free to be everything. A Holy Paradox! Perhaps this is what the poet Rilke is trying to express in this poem

TO THE BELOVED

Extinguish my eyes, I'll go on seeing you
Seal my ears, I'll go on hearing you.
And without feet I can make my way to you,
without a mouth I can swear your name.

Break off my arms, I'll take hold of you
with my heart as with a hand.
Stop my heart, my brain will begin to beat
and if you consume my brain with fire
I'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood.

Praying with the poem I found myself asking, Would the beloved do all this to me and expect me to still be the beloved? However, having allowed the poem to become my dwelling place for a few days, I now see it as a metaphorical icon of the terrible beauty of extravagant love—so extravagant that the lover is free to be nothing for the Beloved. Then, too, I have to remember it a poet speaking. Poets often speak in riddles even to the point of a sacred exaggeration that gives birth to a beautifully wild truth. The truth here seems to be the freedom that comes from a prodigal/wasteful/extravagant love. It is the freedom of belonging to Someone—not in a doormat kind of way—but by way of a liberating/passionate leap in the dark.

Winter Reprieve

2010-03-02T10:15:00.000-08:00

FIRST A HOWLING BLIZZARD

WOKE US

THEN THE RAIN CAME DOWN TO

SOAK US:

AND NOW BEFORE OUR EYE

CAN FOCUS

CROCUS!

-Lilia Royers

I have been traveling

bumping into both winter and spring

As you daily celebrate the weather of your heart

may you be willing to have tea with both.

The Empty Bowl

2010-02-17T06:59:00.000-08:00

Every Lent I throw a little purple cloth on my personal altar and place there an empty bowl. Sometimes the bowl is wooden, sometimes glass, sometimes clay or pewter. It doesn’t matter what kind of bowl; what matters is that the bowl offers me a vacant space. If there was no available space it would just be a chunk of wood or a lump of clay or metal. It is that inviting free space that enables it to be a receptacle. The emptiness empowers it to receive. Into that unocuppied space I gaze with wistful eyes and longing heart. Desire for God is, after all, one of the primary aspirations of the monastic heart, and so my Lenten Longing almost always, in some form or another, focuses on my desire to become a space for God and others. The empty bowl is symbolic of my desire to be free of the clutter that stands in the way of my love poured out. I put my heart into that empty space and wait for God. I want to be available. And so my Lenten questions are similar from year to year:

What prevents me from being available to those who need my love?

What blocks my heart?

What smothers my love?

What stifles my enthusiasm for life?

What limits my relationship with God, self and others?

Where do I need to loosen my grip and open my heart?

FALLING IN LOVE, STAYING IN LOVE

2010-02-15T07:15:00.000-08:00

I know that Lent is just around the corner; but I can't get my mind off Valentine's Day!

“Nothing is more practical
than finding God,
that is, than falling in love
in a quite absolute, final way.

What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination,
will affect everything.

It will decide what will
get you out of bed in the mornings,
what you will do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read, who you know,
what breaks your heart, and
what amazes you with joy
and gratitude.

Fall in love, stay in love,
and it will decide everything.”

-Fr. Pedro Arrupe, SJ

The Arms of God.

2010-02-13T09:00:00.000-08:00

Only in embracing all

can we become the arms of God.

–Rumi

The Catalpa tree on our monastery grounds flaunts a branch that I have begun to call, the arm of God. Here you see it in the twilight hour. The evening light softens it, giving it a bright strength. I imagine being held in the arms of God in all the seasons and I absolutely love the poetic truth that the mystical poet, Rumi, shares with us: "Only in embracing all can we become the arms of God." Perhaps our souls will soak up the truth of these words on this day of hearts: Valentine Day 2010. Why is it such a challenge for some of us to embrace all? To love all? To invite everyone into our house in any kind of weather? Why is it such a challenge for us to become the arms of God?

Now, in the winter season, the arm of God

embraces all that is frozen in us.

Let us bring to the loving arms of God

anything that needs to be thawed,

especially our prejudices

Prejudice is rooted in fear.

In the 1st letter of John we are told

"perfect love drives out fear..."

St. Benedict picks up on that in our rule.

He reminds us again that love drives away fear.

On this day of love may we discover

that the arms of God do not exclude.

May we be given the arms of God

YYY YYY YYY

ONLY
IN
EMBRACING
ALL
CAN
WE
BECOME
THE
ARMS
OF
GOD.

-Rumi

A Too Crowded Altar

2010-02-09T11:57:00.000-08:00

Sometimes my altar becomes too crowded. The simplicity that I long for gets lost in precious clutter. Yes, it is all precious. Each object on my altar is a metaphor that cradles a meaning only I understand. However, metaphors are a bit like adjectives. If I use too many, what I am trying to express gets lost in the decorations. The simplicity that I yearn for gets crowded out with an abundance of symbols and the space I am trying to create becomes a distraction because it is too busy. My altar above is an example of what I am talking about. It began uncrowded on New Years Day with tones of simplicity. Somewhere along the way my preparation for God’s arrival became avoidance. The "stuff" on it became my god.

The tiny stone, the lit candle, the open bible, the significant card, the symbolic heart, the sea shell, and all the lovely things I gather to enhance my prayer, does not draw the Beloved any closer. In reality, my restless preparation often smothers the very truth for which I am searching. Thus I have learned that preparation can, at times, be avoidance; and elaborate arrangements can crowd out Vigilant Waiting. A single flower and a moment of waiting is all I need to meet the One Who Comes. And even that, may be one flower too many.

This is what I am trying to say

in my poem below.

DECORATIONS

My days are all spent
in decorating my house.
I am forever preparing
for your arrival.
I hunger for your presence
yet I take not the time
to wait for your coming
and to my great sorrow
you never arrive.

It is because I refuse
to be silent
that I cannot hear you.

It is because I refuse
to await you
that you cannot come.

It is because I refuse
to be idle
that I cannot enjoy you.

It is because I am too busy
hanging up decorations
that I cannot welcome you home.

Yet in your deep wisdom
your presence leans toward mine.
You understand my decorations
to be symbols of my hunger
and you know of the day
when my heart swept clean
will be the only decoration needed
and I will listen for your coming
like night awaiting day.

--Macrina, from Seasons of Your Heart

THIS VALENTINE IS FOR YOU

2010-02-03T08:17:00.000-08:00

Listen carefully
each of you who have
a permanent place in my heart.
This valentine is for you.
I am bringing you all together
in the oven of my heart
where I will create
a friendship soufflé.

On February mornings
we will meet at dawn.
I will sit by the window of my heart
receiving your faces, your names, your gifts,
rejoicing in how each of you has
marvelously enriched my life.
When the sun climbs over the horizon
remember you are loved.

—Macrina

Benedict and Scholastica

2010-02-02T12:43:00.000-08:00

Here you will see one of my finest pictures

of St. Benedict and St. Scholastica,

our community's patrons.

The sculpting was done in 1978 by Meg, one of those

dear friends whom I can't take out of my

address book (see January 26, 2010 post)

The photo was taken by Yours Truly.

May whatever is frozen

in you melt before dawn!

Sister Death

2010-01-26T21:03:00.000-08:00

This is my address book and the quote from Rumi [on the left-hand side] reads as follows: “Worldly power means nothing. Only the unsayable, jeweled inner life matters.” Although I couldn’t agree more I am wondering why, if my jeweled inner life is what really matters, it is so difficult for me to erase from my address book and e-mail account those who have died. Every time I sit down to update my addresses, insert new folks, delete those who have disappeared from my life or moved to unknown lands, my hand freezes when I try to erase those who have died. I can’t do it. They remain.

A few years ago when one of my dear ones died, a friend sent me a card utterly filled with stars on a deep blue and purple background. The quote on the card was ascribed to an Eskimo legend.

Perhaps they are not the stars
but rather openings in the heavens
where the love of our lost ones
shine to let us know they are with us
and are happy.

These beautiful words convince me that I do not need to leave those names in my address book. The ones I have loved are part of the mosaic of my life. I want to be aware of their shining. A sweet grief has made a nest in my jeweled inner life. I am learning to welcome it. I want it to feel at home. It has a right to live in me; it doesn't have to go away. Sometimes when I dialogue with my grief I explain to it that joy lives in me also. I want them to be friends. In prayerful moments, I sometimes close my eyes and in my mind's eye I see them walking hand in hand in the twilight: my sweet grief and my joy. They both know that it is the unsayable, jeweled inner life that truly matters. And that is what I am thinking about on this snowy evening in Arkansas.

Outside My Window

2010-01-26T06:55:00.000-08:00

There’s a poem outside my window
that refuses to be written down.
Having no need to be published,
It desires rather to be taken in,
Utterly received, tenderly integrated,
lovingly included in my life.

It summons me
to behold it in silence,
cradle its healing graces,
enjoy its magical aura,
keep it secret
except for those
who notice it on their own.

It does not wish
to be proclaimed, named or analyzed.
It desires rather to be slowly revealed,
honored and absorbed.
As it shyly releases its energy
it wants to enchant me, entrance me,
drawing me into the miracle
of being in the quiet
mystery of its company.

Look out your window!
There’s a poem waiting for you too.

—Macrina Wiederkehr

Be in communion with whatever you behold

outside your window today. Allow it to bless you.

Everything Matters

2010-01-18T19:22:00.001-08:00

"The tasks that have been entrusted to us

are often difficult.

Almost everything that matters is difficult,

and Everythng Matters."

--taken from A YEAR WITH RILKE

Rilke is feeding me these days. I keep looking around at everythng in my life that matters. And, yes, I want to be right in the heart of all that matters. Everything Matters!

Winter and Spring kissing each other

Old sycamore tree leaves acting as mulch for the frozen crocuses

the moment before forgiveness

and the moment after

the clumsey way we try to love each other

the joy we thought we didn't have, then stumbled over

courage digging its way out of fear

the jeweled tear rolling down a cheek

frozen hearts learning to thaw

the flight of the bird in the winter storm

the people in Haiti

that moment when something goes wide in our hearts

the clock ticking minutes into eternity

the rabbit caught in a trap

the sleepless nights

the immense hunger for a kind word

the lies told out of fear

the fly caught in the spider web

a poet' s heart growing wings
an elderly woman pushing her wheel chair down the hall

every act of love performed for those suffering

the glimmer of light after a long darkness

Everything matters and in my own beautifully human yet often inept way, I want to be there in the mattering...even if my presence isn't a perfect presence. I want to practice being there. I want to practice seeing with a lucidity that enhances my gentle spirit. And YOU, whoever you are reading this, take these words into your dear soul; and in the deepest recesses of your being rejoice because YOU MATTER.

Take, Oh Take, is Now my Cry

2010-01-12T17:49:00.001-08:00

Time after time I came to your gate
With raised hands, asking for more and
yet more.

You gave and gave, now in slow
measure, now in sudden excess.

I took some, and some things I let
drop; some lay heavy on my hands;
Some I made into play things and broke
them when tired; till the wrecks and
the hoard of your gifts grew immense,
hiding you, and the ceaseless expectation
wore my heart out.

Take, oh, take—

has now become my cry.

Shatter all from this beggar’s bowl:
put out the lamp of the importunate
watcher: Hold my hands, raise me from
the still-gathering heap of your gifts
into the bare infinity
of your uncrowded presence.

- Rabindranath Tagore

It is such a joy to find a poem again after having once loved it and then forgotten about it. This lovely creature, this poem, found me today after all these years. Or, maybe we found each other after years of forgetting. It fits so well with my longing to surrender joyfully this year. However, the words that have really made a nest in my heart are these: "...the bare infinity of your uncrowded presence." That sounds a bit like heaven and I hope I will be spending more time in the uncrowded presence of the Holy One. Perhaps I'll meet you there.

Surrender and Joy

2010-01-09T05:45:00.000-08:00

These two little clay hedgehogs always find a place on my altar in January. Each year they receive new names and their names are my chosen words to live for the new year. In 2007 their names were Discipline and Contemplation. In 2008 their names were Laughter and Presence. This year I have decided to keep their 2009 names as I am not yet finished with their old names. I still need to do some unpacking, --and the names are:

SURRENDER AND JOY

SURRENDER is on the left side. She is a little closer to the earth...a little more bowed down. As I honor the beauty and importance of surrender I need to make clear that when I choose surrender as one of my 2010 words, in no way am I thinking about a door mat kind of surrender. It takes humility to surrender and humility is truth. In the rule of St.Benedict I am asked to give up my own will . Truly that takes a little (and sometimes a lot) of surrender. In this new year, then, I am praying that the Holy One, Source of my Joy will reveal to me the areas where surrendering would bring me a deeper joy. I have in mind actions such as:

*letting go of my need to be right, *surrendering stuff that clutters up my life, * letting go of my plans for changing others, * letting go of expectations, *surrendering resentment, *surrending busyness, *surrendering my own will, --

This may sound negative; yet looking more closely at my desire to surrender I am aware that every letting go in my life has always brought me greater freedom. The trick is staying with the moment of surrender when it's difficult.

And now I introduce you to JOY. She is on the right side, -- kind of uplifted...as though she is waiting for something. Perhaps she is waiting for the grace that will help her to be friends with SURRENDER. She is a wonderful companion for SURRENDER because surrender without joy can be a bit morose. JOY enables SURRENDER to see that she is beautiful even as she lets go, loosens her grasp, empties herself out.

This is my great longing for 2010:

to taste the freedom that comes

from living Joyfully Surrendered.

Happy New Year

2010-01-05T07:50:00.001-08:00

Although we are already 5 days into the new year this seems to be a perfect time to wish everyone a Happy New Year. Not too late; not too early! The year is new enough that we still forget, at times, to write 2010 instead of 2009 --- but not so new that we haven’t already stumbled over a few of our resolutions--------which brings me around to the theme of this blog entry: I don’t do Resolutions anymore. I have Wishes. Resolutions I can break; Wishes I just keep on having. It is as though they are renewed and not broken. I am listing here some of my wishes for the new year. You may have a few of your own that you would like to share with us.

I wish I could be faithful to a daily discipline of writing.
I wish I could surrender all actions that give grief to others.
I wish to replace all my judgments of others with love.
I wish to wear compassion as a favorite robe.
I wish to be a person of peace.
I wish to be free even from violent thoughts.
I wish to live joyfully surrendered to the moment.
I wish I could read just one book at a time.
I wish the Word of God would utterly take root in me.
I wish I would look like another Christ.
I wish I could see as God sees.I wish to be pure gratitude.
Like Alice in Wonderland I wish to believe six impossible things before breakfast.

I can’t exactly break these wishes but each time I disappoint myself I can look on them with love and breathe on them again for I happen to believe Spirit is in my breath. Resolutions or wishes? Ok, I realize they are essentially the same. I’m just using different language. Remember, I love changes. HAPPY NEW YEAR

The Desert, The Star, The Emerging Life

2009-12-26T11:54:00.000-08:00

If, as Herod, we fill our lives with things, and again with things: if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action, when will we have the time to make the long, slow journey across the desert as did the Magi? Or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds? Or ponder over the coming of the Child as did Mary? For each one of us, there is a desert to travel. A star to discover. And a being within ourselves to bring to life. –author, not sure

The Desert: My desert is a wilderness place within where I cannot always see the fruitfulness of my life. Having lived in a desert hermitage for 9 months I am aware that in the desert, life suddenly emerges from places that once seemed desolate. I look again and the barren land is laughing out blossoms. That is a good image for the inner landscape of the soul . We do not always sense those growing places even when something mysteriously new is stirring in our depths; yet if we remain faithful to the journey through our desert and if we keep the door of the heart ajar, the light of the star will find us.

The Star: Desert places need a star. Let us take heart; the star is available. Remember! We have left the door of the heart ajar. Even in the darkest of nights I have known that star. Sometimes it is not above me leading me on; sometimes it is within me lifting me out of myself. Sometimes it is a sweet invitation calling me to quiet spaces where I can befriend my desert places.

The Emerging Life: In each of us there is a depth we have not yet discovered. That is why we must make this desert journey. That is the reason we need to believe in the star: the star above and the star within! A desert to travel. A star to discover. Perhaps 2010 will be the year when something deep inside us turns over and opens its eyes, sees the door of our hearts ajar and comes out singing. I can hardly wait.

The Darkness Holds the Light

2009-12-22T14:38:00.000-08:00

Maybe the darkness holds the light,
rekindles it through the long dark night
Perhaps our joy is cradled by our sorrow,
held and protected till the dawn of tomorrow.

The picture above has become a metaphoric prayer for me. I waited a long time for the light on the morning this image was born. When it finally pushed its face through the blackness it took my breath away. It looked as though the darkness was holding the light. I wanted to call out, “Stop right there. Hold the moment!” Life is not like that, of course, and the light kept coming. Afterwards I felt a little guilty for needing to capture the moment. “Forgive me.” I said to the light and to the darkness, “forgive me for not trusting my memory.” I wanted it to last forever, yet this photo is so dim compared to the sacramental memory of the Earth Turn that brought me the light on that autumn morning. I forgave myself quickly and have been praying with this picture for several months. It speaks to me in deep ways about how the dark moments of my life have always seemed to protect and save the light for me. I can’t always see and experience the joy, hope, and trust, the courage, love and beauty, the faith, life and light hidden in the cloud of my unknowing. The brightness within is often invisible and yet when I practice deep seeing I know without a doubt that we are containers of light and, oh, we must shine on one another or die.

O Source of Light and Darkness,

Instill in each of us a deep knowing that we are containers of Light:

our sorrow holds our joy,

our despair holds our hope,

our fears hold our courage,

our anxieties hold our trust,

our indifference holds our love,

and our clutter holds our yearning for the Eternal

In spite of our sometimes disordered lives,

all the brightness within us

is kept safe for us--safe for that moment

when we joyfully claim it as

part of our inheritance.

We are containers of peace and joy,

hope and faith, forgiveness and love.

We are containers of the Divine.

We Are Containers of The Light.

I Am So Happy

2009-12-19T07:15:00.001-08:00

Do you ever find a quote you like so much you want to call up the author and book a flight to meet somewhere for tea at the first available space in his or her schedule. That is sort of the way I felt when I was browsing one of the blogs I follow and came across this quote from Come Sit by my Fire (http://comesitbymyfire.blogspot.com/)

"Tell me what you feel in your room
when the full moon is shining in upon you
and your lamp is dying out,
and I will tell you how old you are,

and I shall know if you are happy.”

~ Henri Frederic Amiel

Of course when I checked out the author and discovered he died in 1881 I guess the tea party will have to be a dream. He was even Swiss (my heritage). Ok, Ok, do I sound like a drama queen? On some days I am and I’ve made peace with that. At least you know I’m alive. And for the most part I’m happy. Never get bored! Oh, a little existential loneliness perhaps but that, too, tells me I’m alive.

I might be getting into my ego too much. I'll have to go to confession to Eckhart Tolle, that dear man who has so much wisdom. I want to read everything he has written. Still, I’ve spent so much time and effort building up this ego. It’s hard to let it go.

I am so excited and happy because of the things we can learn from one another.

The moon you behold here is a very special moon that God spoke from, to someone who needed a Divine Message one night, but that’s a whole new story and not mine to share.

All Through the Night

2009-12-12T09:32:00.000-08:00

All through the night

into the morning hours

cold beads of rain

ice the tree's dark branches.

The trees are strong; they do not bend

and this becomes their downfall.

When you do not bend, you break.

The icy day becomes my classroom.

Near the ice sculptured trees

frozen little bushes, vines and cedars,

are bowed low in adoration

bent, but not broken.

The frozen trees, sad and beautiful,

moan and sway with the weight of reality.

Lovely ice sculptured arms

yield to the bitter truth of the moment

as the silence is harsly broken.

In its wake, a deafening silence

rises up from deep inside

where my tears are frozen

like the beads of rain

that fell through the night.

How do we name what happens

without condemning it?

This is nature's way;

There were no developers present.

Was the rain unknind to freeze?

Did it have a choice

to bend our break

to destroy or build?

Sometimes I fear reality.

--Macrina Wiederkehr

from The Circle of Life published March 2005,

by Joyce Rup and Macrina Wiederkehr

This was written at least 10 years ago

after the death of a tree I loved.

As I read it again after all these years

a question is born in my heart:

Is there anything in my life that has broken

because I was unable to bend?