What is real? I don’t think it’s any secret.I search for the true.For too long, this truth I sought came from outside my body.I was trained to believe the experts.Those who study harder, know better and have the answers.They are above me — or so I believe.Blindly, I ingest their words as “what is real”. As a young mom, I sit in a doctor’s office. With trepidation, I admit I may be in a state of mild depression. The wise doctor looks at me and says, “No you don’t. I know depression and you don’t have it.” He babbles on….
Tag: Silence
The Way to Thanks Giving
If… your festive season comes tinged with a lemon ache of — a unicorn hope that’ll never be, a shining light who’ll be missed at your table, a tribe who dons different stripes than yours, a ten-spiced, home cooked cranberry sauce when a simple, canned condiment is what you long for — (hold fast) This is where the spiral will fling you to the black forest in a blink (notice that?) It’s your heartbeat. speeding up. (do you hear her message?) She hums, “GO! — to your mat, your canvas, your trees — Slow down. take a breath. Allow silence…
9pm Silence Swells (Holy Thursday)
I continue my focus on the monastic practice of seven daily pauses. Tonight, we pause for Holy Thursday. Last week, we rested at the Twilight Hour (6pm). This week, we break at 9pm, (Compline; the Great Silence). A wonderful book greatly aiding me through this series is Seven Sacred Pauses by Macrina Wiederkehr. One by one, footsteps fall away, voices once vibrant now faded breath. Conversation, communion, prayer, all sacred imprints of presence, most significant for the awake soul. Now, the table is quiet. You remember, how, at the meal, you placed the small white manna to your lips —…
Advent: Spirit of Discomfort
Sunday begins the liturgical season of Advent. Advent is a time of preparation for the birth of Jesus. For the next few weeks, I’ll be dwelling upon different people mentioned in the story leading up to Christ’s birth. My offering will be a piece of artwork and a poem centered on how I imagine the Spirit moved in each person’s life and link it with how the Spirit is still alive in our story today urging us to move towards it. Today, I enter into the story of Zechariah. Zechariah is a Jewish priest. An upright man. One who follows…
Silence (And the Divine Thread.)
At times, silence is harsh given because you’ve dismayed the one or the masses, haven’t bent to the agreed upon wishes — whatever they may be. At times, silence is weary given because words have fallen away leaving you lost in darkness fumbling bone dry amid the injustices of the world. Yet, I know a silence that isn’t a weapon, nor a secluded woe. This silence meets me in tender places, grief places. This silence cradles me in critical spaces, peaceful places. This silence washes over me like untethered wings allowing me to see what lies right here right now….