Dearest Monks, artists, and pilgrims, The United States celebrates the feast of Thanksgiving this week. I have always loved this time of gratefulness and sharing with loved ones. My heart overflows with gratitude for this beautiful community we have created together. I delight daily in knowing there are dancing monks all over the world. The 5th century monk and mystic Benedict of Nursia counsels in his Rule for monastic life an attitude of contentment among his community. Whatever the circumstances they find themselves in, they are to find some satisfaction with what is in the moment. In a world of

Dearest Monks, artists, and pilgrims, I have been going back through the Abbey archives and found this sweet post written almost six years ago when John and I were living in Vienna and making plans to move to Ireland. It was a very sweet and vulnerable time of our lives. So I am offering these words to you once again, several years on, from a different place in my life: John and I have made the discernment to move to the west coast of Ireland at the end of December and so this threshold time left here in Vienna has

Inheritance I take down the generic white jug from the shelf, the one made with ten thousand others in a factory in Taiwan. I wish it were the Meissen porcelain one with the blue onion pattern that survived two world wars, but not my need for funds to finish graduate school. I long, too, for the cut crystal bowl, etched with delicate flowers in which you served ripe, sweet berries but was later sold to pay for books. Or the silver set with your initials engraved on the handles, I imagine a stranger now running her fingers along the grooves

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, We are approaching the Celtic feast of Samhain, the great doorway into the dark half of the year in the northern hemisphere and a time when the veil is considered especially thin. This is my favorite time of year, when I feel the most energized and my heart comes alive to the wisdom of those who have walked before me. I share with you a short excerpt from our upcoming Honoring Saints and Ancestors online retreat: Psychologist Carl Jung wrote extensively about the collective unconscious which is this vast pool of ancestral memory within each

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, It is a very full season of life for me right now, having facilitated our Writing on the Wild Edges retreat at the end of August with John here in Ireland, then traveled to Germany to lead our pilgrimage in the footsteps of St. Hildegard of Bingen with Betsey Beckman (we are looking at fall 2021 for the next offering of that program).  In a couple of days John and I have a new group arrive to Galway where we will journey to local sacred ruins and explore the gift that Celtic monasticism has for

Fin and feather, flesh, blood and bone: the earth calls its creatures to leave the familiar, turn again into the unknown; to move steadily and continuously and at great risk toward an invisible goal, expending great energy with the possibility of failure… ~ Marianne Worcester Dearest Monks, artists, and pilgrims, Several years ago I had the privilege of leading a retreat on the shores of Cape May, NJ. Cape May is a resting place for weary souls seeking renewal and refreshment. It is also the resting place for Monarch butterflies as they make their long migratory journey to Mexico. In the