Reflections

Dearest monks and artists, I am having trouble finding the words right now to express the things ripening in my heart. Listen to Joel McKerrow‘s gorgeous performance poem Search which expresses so many layers of what this pilgrimage time has been about for me. His words have been reflecting this journey I am on back to me.  Joel says “They say that a girl who walks the edges of this world will find herself if she looks for long enough.”  When we moved to Ireland I knew I wanted to be on the west coast because I feel called to the wild edges.  I

To receive this love note straight to your in-box, subscribe here (and also receive a free gift!) The Swan This laboring of ours with all that remains undone, as if still bound to it, is like the lumbering gait of the swan. And then our dying—releasing ourselves from the very ground on which we stood— is like the way he hesitantly lowers himself into the water. It gently receives him, and, gladly yielding, flows back beneath him, as wave follows wave, while he, now wholly serene and sure, with regal composure, allows himself to glide. —Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. by

The winner of the random drawing for this week’s Photo Party is Julie.  Congratulations Julie, let me know which of the Self-Study Online Classes you would like as your prize (with a choice from Soul of a Pilgrim, Eyes of the Heart, Water Wind Earth & Fire, Seasons of the Soul, or Lectio Divina). Thank you to everyone who participated in the Photo Party this week.  It is always such a gift to be blessed by your images of the sacred.  If you haven’t stopped by to see the photos in response to “Illuminating Lent”, here is the Flickr pool. 

Given, VI We travelers, walking to the sun, can’t see Ahead, but looking back the very light That blinded us shows us the way we came, Along which blessings now appear, risen As if from sightlessness to sight, and we, By blessing brightly lit, keep going toward That blessed light that yet to us is dark. –Wendell Berry Dearest monks and artists, I am slowly finding my feet under me in this new city of Galway.  Every morning when the skies aren’t clouded over, a vision like the one above greets me from my apartment window.  The Hour of Awakening

. . . Lynn White!  Congratulations Lynn, you have won a space in the upcoming online Lenten retreat with St. Hildegard of Bingen. A deep bow of gratitude to everyone who participated in the Poetry Party (submissions are still welcome!)  I savored each poem as it was shared and let it have space in my heart to shimmer.  Then I said a blessing for the poet’s longings for the year ahead.  I send my blessings to all of you, that art may sustain your imagination in the coming days and weeks.

My final question, ‘How will I know when I have reached the destination?’ brings me full circle, and I face the Mystery again. Perhaps the truth is that we never arrive, not because the journey is too long and too difficult but because we have been there all along. I am coming to believe that there is no final destination except to continue to be on the journey and to know that every place along the way is a holy place because God is present. I believe that God is calling us to stand on our own ground and know

More than 800 people shared their word for 2013!  It is truly amazing and inspiring to read through the submissions, so consider pouring a cup of tea and perusing what others have posted.  Please feel welcome to share your word, even though the date for being entered into the random drawing has passed (see winners below). There are also some pretty wonderful photos being shared at this month’s Photo Party where you are invited to share images inspired by your word for the year (you can also take a quick look at the Flickr photo pool here – also worth some

To receive this love note straight to your in-box, subscribe here (and also receive a free gift!) You must give birth to your images. They are the future waiting to be born. Fear not the strangeness you feel. The future must enter you long before it happens. Just wait for the birth, for the the hour of the new clarity.—Rainer Maria Rilke Dearest monks and artists, I have arrived in our new home in Ireland and am slowly settling in while trying to be ever so gentle with myself in this transition.  The day we got here was also the