Mardi Gras

Today is known as Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday.   Some like to think of it as a time of partying before the great fast of Lent; however many people who celebrate Mardi Gras see little religious significance to the day.  As for me, I believe our attitude about special seasons and our reflection on the event is really important.  I see nothing wrong with having a glass of wine or a special meal on the evening before Ash Wednesday.  The gift I long for, though, is moderation.  All is to be done with mindfulness and  joy.  Even the scriptures tell us not to look gloomy when we fast.  (Mt 6:16)

Because I live in a monastic community "Fat Tuesday" has also become for me a time to discern my Lenten resolutions.  How do I want to make this season a time of growth and renewal.  What would I like to add or subtract from my life?

In the Rule of St. Benedict, the chapter on Lent begins as follows,  "The life of a monk ought to be a continuous Lent.  Since few, however, have the strength for this, we urge the entire community during these days of Lent to keep its manner of life most pure and to wash away in this holy season the negligence of other times."

Before Lent begins we are asked to choose a spiritual book to use for reflection during this season.  Having recently been reminded that my new book, Abide: Keeping Vigil with the Word of God, would actually be a good book to use for the Lenten Season because it consists of 40 scriptural meditations,  I almost chose my own book.

However, as I continued my discernment I was drawn to Meg Funk's book,  Lectio Matters:  Before the Burning Bush.  I would like for this season to be a deepening of my love for this ancient monastic prayer that is thankfully being restored in our monasteries and beyond.  

In a sense, Lent is a standing before the burning bush of transformation and renewal.  I would like to be caught up in the fire.   And so tonight at our Mardi Gras Party I will don my mask and in the midst of the fun will also use the moment to ponder who I really am under that mask.   

HAPPY MARDI GRAS EVRYONE!

The window's gifts

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

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

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

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

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

And you, whoever you are, 

spend a little time waiting today.  

Wait for something wild and beautiful 

to rise up out of your soul.

Falling in Love With a Tree

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

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

Something turns over in your heart

and 'very suddenly' you know 

that you are a little bit healthier

than you were five minutes ago.

You also know that whatever 

you have fallen in love with 

is not yours to keep in an ownership way.

It has been loaned to you briefly.

It is a gift for others as well.

How you respond to it is totally up to you!

Some will pass by without seeing it.

Some will photograph it without really seeing it.

Some will open to its blessing.

Some will carry it in their heart's memory.

Some will experience a sweet healing.

Others will have wonder restored in their lives.

Some will feast on the vision with gratitude.

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

On my visit to New  Zealand and Australia

I absolutely fell in love with the trees.

The tree pictured below is on Red Beach in Auckland.

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

At Christmas time it has bright red blossoms 

so it becomes their Christmas Tree.

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

The tree below is one of my photographs

but the one directly below it is from Google images.

I am trying to imagine my tree now all bright 

with its red blossoms. 

When I visited Auckland we drove into

Cornwall Park and along Pohutukawa Drive

I was offered a glimpse of so many ancestral trees

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

very short love affairs but they are now

 loving medicinal memories.

The tree below is an Algerian Oak.

It is a semi-evergreen and loses its foliage

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

Below you will behold my beloved Jacaranda

 with its lush purple blossoms.

Sydney and its surrounding area is where I first

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

and I can probably find some in California 

but this was my first sighting of a Jacaranda

and I could hardly stop staring at them.  

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

I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH A TREE!

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

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

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

It, too, lives in Jamberoo at the Abbey.

I was there a week with the cloistered Benedictines

and spent many moments just beholding it

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

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

Do you have a tree that you love?

Spend time with it soon!

Goodbye Fall ~~~ Hello Winter!

Enjoy This Last Evening of Fall.

Take a walk…

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

Well!  Not in quite so dramatic form perhaps,

but it does arrive for some of us.

Let the seasons, season you!

Enjoy the beauty of transformation

As you gaze at these two strikingly different photos

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

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

Macrina

Be Not Afraid!

   

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

"Do not be afraid: for behold I proclaim

to you news of great  joy

that will be for all the people."

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

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

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

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


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