Welcome Morning
There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry "hello there, Anne"
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.
All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.
So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.
-Anne Sexton, The Awful Rowing Toward God
I love poetry that speaks of the holiness of the ordinary, the sacredness of all things. We make artifical divisions between sacred and secular, between what is worthy of our awe and gratitude and what is not. This is one of the elements I love most about Benedictine spirituality. In the Rule, Benedict wrote that "all utensils and goods of the monastery" are to be treated as "sacred vessels of the altar." (RB 31:10-11) Esther DeWaal writes that Benedictine life "simply consists in doing the ordinary things of daily life carefully and lovingly, with the attention and reverence that can make of them a way of prayers, a way to God."
What if we were to rise each morning and give thanks for the coffee that awakens our mind and body, offer gratitude for sleep and the renewal that comes with rest. What if we bowed down before the night offerings of sacred texts our dreams have laid on the altar of our wholeness. What if each bite of food we exclaimed wonder at the ways our bodies take in nourishment, at the flavor and gift of food. Savoring oatmeal becomes an act of praise. And as we read the morning news, what if we each took a moment to gather in all the sorrow of the world into our hearts and hold it there with great love and kindness so that we might carry this awareness to all those we encounter during our day.
What if each day we could find wonder in the way sunlight hits a small patch of pine needles or heavy frost lingering outside our front door?
What if each drop of water that flows from our faucets reminded us of baptism and the new birth that is possible in each moment?
Could we walk along our path each day and find joy in the footprints and other offerings left by those who have traveled this path before us?
Tonight is the first new moon of the new year. Wendy is inviting people to use this time to reflect back on the last month and write about the concrete ways the sacred has been revealed in our lives. She is calling them "love letters from God" which is seeing the holiness of the ordinary. My last month has brought an abundance of gifts: time away in wild places, endings and new beginnings, wonderful teaching experiences, the gift of unexpected days off with my beloved, meals shared with friends, creative inspiration, and the gifts of winter, which include a sweet creature for our Epiphany gift. When I share my joy, it blossoms, bursts forth to elicit joy from others. Each gift is like a pomegranate seed released from its yellow pith, a vibrant and juicy seed of wonder and delight.
What if you just began by treating all the utensils in your kitchen the way you might treat the sacred vessels used on an altar? What if your life itself slowly became the altar of your thanksgiving?
-Christine Valters Paintner
Christine,
What a nice treat for the middle of the day! I found the poem, your words and your photos soothing and beautiful. I am struggling through a book that I have to read as an assignment and my “reward” has been to come to the computer every ten pages…so far, I have read this and seen your beautiful photographs three times.
I love the beauty of simple things, too, and your post was a little nudge that helped me get in touch with that again. We had a galley kitchen in Boston…no dishwasher or microwave and only room for one. Jud did most of the cooking and I did most of the cleaning. I found that I loved the act of washing dishes…the warm water, the smell of the soap, even the notion that my own effort was making them shiny and clean. I surprised myself.
The pleasure I have tuned into today is petting my Maltese, Sophie. Her hair is like a cat’s…very, very silky and almost silvery white. Unlike most cats, she will let me pet her for hours.
Thank you for your thoughts.
The full moon? I’m pretty sure that’s not tonight. I think that comes later, like early Feb. Although this is a good reflection in any case….
The poem (which is a fave of mine, too, btw!) reminds me of a half-formed thought I’ve been having today about the connection between depression (which Anne Sexton was) and wonder. It was generated by an old interveiw I heard with Art Buchwald today, who was hilarious, you know, but who also was depressed some of the time. My wondering I think is if the “going down” makes you appreciate the “coming up” even more, by contrast.
Wow Christine, your post moved me so much! I keep thinking of your saying “What if you just began by treating all the utensils in your kitchen the way you might treat the sacred vessels used on an altar? What if your life itself slowly became the altar of your thanksgiving?”. Truly, this goes to the heart of things!
I hope you might continue to join in doing these reflections each new moon. Your reflections are always SO rich and meaningful.
Blessed Week…and Blessed New Moon : ) Wendy
Oh dear, it was the NEW moon and I knew that and for some reason still typed in full. I have had a migraine for the last couple of days which is affecting my judgment.
Thanks Susan, glad to know I can give you a break from your reading. I have another wonderful poem I’ll share in a couple of days called The Zen of Housework which gives a whole new perspective on washing dishes.
Thanks for catching that about the moon J, still not sure why I wrote the exact opposite of what I meant. I have often wondered about those differences as well, not as much with regard to depression per se, but in feeling anything very deeply as I often do, means feeling the sadness as acutely as the wonder and joy.
Thanks Wendy for inspiring me to write it. I came across the poems and readings and they fit so well with what I was reflecting on.
Blessed New Moon to you all! Christine
That poem was just beautiful. Your post gave much food for thought. Our Pastor recently preached about living every second of our lives in the Spirit, each action, each thought guided by worship, joy, peace, love…and all the other wonderful gifts of life in the Spirit. What a wonderful life it would be.
I have done a post for Wendy’s love letters to God too.
your words take my breath away because they resonate so deeply within me. there is such holiness in the smallest drop of water or footprint in the sand. thank you.
Welcome Sarah, and thank you for your very kind words!
Thank you Lucy! See you for tea later, another of those simple delights. . .
Oh, I am looking forward to that poem.
Now this is strange. I have been reading several blogs on RevGal and many of the people have posted here. After all, there are almost 300!!! I am so excited to find this resource…hooray!
I am thinking about seminary in the back of my mind…finished a two year spiritual direction program and just don’t feel I have enough background to do it well. And…I am newly interested in the Bible…now THAT is mysterious!
You have such a lovely blog, Christine. I read it all the way through one night when I wasn’t able to sleep. Thanks for sharing you wisdom and gentleness. It’s soothing and stimulating…all at the same time!
Suz (that’s my usual nickname…along with Sue and Suzie…different parts of my life)
This was a beautiful post. I particularly liked the idea that many everyday acts become sacred when we keep in mind the beauty and provision of the Lord’s creation. I did Wendy’s post idea too, but got it completely wrong!
If I can adapt the Benedictine’s Rule to my life, then I can accomplish my domestic responsibilities with more cheerfulness! I see that Tune has left her heart-print on the beach. Its good that you can help her unleash her spirit.
The reference to the pomegranate seed is deeply beautiful to me. Photos, poem, and word…….Thank you for your ministry, Christine.
Blessings and Love,
Bette.
(p.s. please delete any duplicate posts. my computer hiccuped I think
How poignant to see that Anne Sexton, who struggled with despair through so much of her life, also reveled in the ability to taste and express this sort of everyday joy. I wasn’t familiar with this poem. I try to savor the same joy, and be thankful for the miracle of a “normal” day, every day.
Each moment of life is precious.
I do think (re: what Juniper was mentioning above) that experiencing depression probably helps us appreciate “good days” even more. Our challenge is to face and embrace what the pain is there for and what it is to show us, not keep running from it…We can’t get past the pain without going through it, IMO. And sometimes it helps to notice the small blessings and be grateful for them when we are tired and sad, and it is an effort to do so…a “sacrifice of praise”, as it says in Hebrews.
Thanks for your wonderful words Suz! Reading all the way through is quite a feat! A seminary education can be really valuable for personal formation, even if you are not heading for ordination.
Thanks Plain and Simple. I look forward to reading yours.
Hi Bette,
That is one of things I love so much about this way of doing all things with great love and care. Very connected to Buddhist mindfulness practices. When I cook I give thanks for the food that nourishes me and send love to those who will eat it. When I clean I am sanctifying our home, blessing it with dishrags.
The photos above were actually taken in Tofino, so I have to admit that I don’t know the owner of that particular paw print! We haven’t been to the beach together yet, mostly because it has been so cold, but many walks in the park and around the lake already.
You’re welcome Bette!
Hi Zorra, I completely agree with you about needing to go through the pain. It is hard because we live in a culture that medicates every problem and yet I know that often depression does have biochemical causes. Perhaps if there was a more legitimate space to allow people to experience the depression? I know many times the small blessings have saved me.
Blessings to you, Christine