Reflections

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Wisdom Council member Dena Jennings’ reflection on making and sharing music as a spiritual practice. I was 12 years old in 1976. It was an election year and the bicentennial celebration of the United States. My parents were community leaders in Akron, Ohio, the Rubber Capital of the World. There were more events and parades that year than I had known. My oldest sister was a beautiful majorette in an award-winning high school band. And my middle

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Kelly Sollinger’s reflection and poem on finding silence. The days leading up to this poem brought one heartbreak after another. I was dealing with personal griefs in the midst of serving as a pastoral presence to a community enduring an impossible loss. Early one morning I fled the house and the phone and the email, desperately seeking an inner silence that eluded me. The longer I walked, the more I became aware of the birds. At first,

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series. Today’s poem is by Wisdom Council member Jamie Marich who will lead a mini-retreat on September 13th on Writing Your Spiritual Memoir. Read on for her poem The Great Lie. Jamie is fresh off of writing her memoir, You Lied to Me About God: A Memoir, and has a great deal to share with the world about her spiritual formation process. This poem is one small reflection that flowed from her own expressive arts processes in preparing the book for publication. The Great LieThere are many lies about God going

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Jean Wise’s reflection The Spiritual Practice of Writing a Poem Each Day. At the end of my third-grade year, my teacher gave me a book of poetry. “When I saw this book, I thought of you,” she said. “Keep writing, Jeanie.” This is the first memory I have of someone else recognizing me as a writer. Even though I was young yet and as life unfolded, took different routes, her encouragement and gift of poetry seeded deep