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Category: Abbess love notes

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A Celebration of Poetry ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, I hope you have enjoyed the series of poetry videos we have produced in collaboration with Morgan Creative. One of our great joys here at the Abbey is bringing artists together whether through these videos, the albums we are creating, or the icon series we commissioned. When time and resources allow we hope to continue these video offerings. For now, I thought I’d share links to all eight of the poems in case you have missed any of them over the last few months: How to Be a Pilgrim Requiem for Myself Take My Hand

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Jubilee Time (John’s reflection) ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, In honor of our upcoming sabbatical year, this week we hear from John Valters Paintner about the scriptural roots of Sabbath and Jubilee: The biblical Jubilee is a big, if rarely discussed topic. So, we’re going to back up a bit and get a good running start at it from a point that is far more familiar with all of us. One of the Ten Commandments is to “keep holy the Sabbath” (Exodus 20:8-11 & Deuteronomy 5:12-15). There is controversy, or at least vigorous debate, over the most basic of details. Catholics and Protestants don’t

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How to Be a Pilgrim (new poetry video) ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

How to Be a Pilgrim Air travel is like ancient pilgrims walking on their knees, flight delays and narrow seats offer their own kind of penance. You jettison excess baggage, leaving behind the heavy makeup case, knowing the rain will wash you free of artifice. Books you wanted to carry left too, no more outside words needed, then go old beliefs which keep you taut and twisted inside. Blistered feet stumble over rocky fields covered with wildflowers and you realize this is your life, full of sharp stones and color. Red-breasted robins call forth the song already inside, a hundred

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Please Help Support Our Jubilee Year ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, Contemplative rhythms are essential here at Abbey of the Arts, both in terms of what we teach as well as what we practice. Each week we try to take a Sabbath day as a time to celebrate the lavish gift of rest. Each summer we take a month of sabbatical time to refresh and renew our bodies and spirits. We both long for a longer time of sabbatical. If we still worked in a university or church setting this might be built in to the financial support, but since we are entirely self-supporting taking this

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Requiem for Myself ~ Poem Video: A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Requiem for Myself When I die plant a pinwheel in an open field where winter’s wind and rain march forcefully across in battalions, and you can stumble out there to meet me one late afternoon when you feel the world must surely be ending. You, soaked from tears and storms, kinship with dark sky. Me, rainbow axis whirling, an orbit of joyful defiance. You then, inspired, tumble gleefully across grass, pirouette, forgetting for a moment grief’s burden, knowing the world will be with you for many years to come. Never think this brief sojourn wasted as you head back to

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Vespers (New Poetry Video) ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Vespers The sun slides down the gap between houses its amber reach crosses the grass toward me, shadow of the elder tree has grown long and I remember under the mulberry spectacle of sky how everything I love must end: this cup of tea with steam ascending, the dog curled right against me, your warm hands over mine, how this sweet leaving of day makes me draw the world as close as possible. —Christine Valters Paintner (*originally published in U.S. Catholic magazine) Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, The poem above is part of a series of poems I wrote to

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St. Gobnait and the Place of Her Resurrection (new poem video) ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

St. Gobnait and the Place of Her Resurrection On the tiny limestone island an angel buzzes to Gobnait in a dream, disrupts her plans, sends her in search of nine white deer. She wanders for miles across sea and land until at last they appear and rather than running toward them she falls gently to wet ground, sits in silence as light crawls across sky, lets their long legs approach and their soft, curious noses surround her. Breathing slowly, she slides back onto grass and clover and knows nothing surpasses this moment, a heaven of hooves and dew. Is there

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