Reflections

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Tim Olivieri’s reflection on not overthinking compassion. In my early 20’s I lived as a member of a Roman Catholic religious order. Once, while traveling to visit family, a woman in the Philadelphia airport began to make conversation with me. A the time, I was reading  In The Spirit of Happiness by the Monks of New Skete. She told me how her employer had called her to Philadelphia only the night before. She arrived that morning, was unceremoniously fired, and put on the

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Susan O’Connell’s reflection “Listening and contemplation.” Listening to the silence is truly one of the great spiritual practices, in which we tune into a deeper level of being and of experience. Silence in nature can facilitate that deeper connection to ourselves through allowing us to listen more deeply to our hearts and bodies. Nature or wilderness can provide a holding environment so that we can relax the ways we chronically constrict ourselves. (Hutton, 2003, p. 250) Having an affinity for communication and service, it came

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Mary Thomason-Smith’s reflection on the homily of birdsong. All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres—Maltbie D. Babcock Stepping on my deck for a deep, belly breath full of fresh air, the tranquility of an Indiana summer morning invites me to stillness, to receive the peaceful offerings of dawn.  Green morning glory vines noodle their way through the wooden rails and posts that frame my space for prayer.  A rabbit nibbles on clover just beyond the

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Adam Brooks Webber’s reflection on dancing with the sunrise. I gather my weapons. No one else in the house is awake yet, save only the cat, and he’s too concerned now with the contents of his dish to pay any further attention to me. I ease the back door open and slip outside. The dew on the back steps chills my bare feet. The neighboring cottages are quiet, and there’s no one in sight. Good. I’d just as soon not be seen. With

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Anne Knorr’s reflection on reconnecting with the cycles of the Earth. The other night my husband and I hiked up to one of our favorite spots in the foothills of Boulder, Colorado we affectionately call the Moon Rock.  Our neighbors joined us on the 45-minute trek up the hill with picnic dinners and headlamps in tow.  Hiking to watch the moonrise is a ritual we happened onto several years ago when the full moon coincided with my birthday and my