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 and artists, Three 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 Skagit

Dearest monks and artists, Included in your love note today is a short excerpt from our current Sacred Seasons mini-retreat for the Autumn Equinox and the Feast of Michaelmas (register here to receive materials all year long to celebrate the turning of the seasons) written by your online Prior John Valters Paintner: “Do not fear, Daniel,” the Archangel Michael continued; “from the first day you made up your mind to acquire understanding and humble yourself before God, your prayer was heard.” –Daniel 10:12a The Book of Daniel, named after the hero and not the author of the story, is set during the early

Dearest monks and artists, We live in an era of unraveling: wars, financial breakdown, gun violence, unemployment, mass migration, racial discrimination, gender inequality, poverty rising, and the poisoning of our ecosystems. Even as I write this litany, I am sure I have forgotten others, and certainly there are the smaller issues of daily life wherever we live—the uncertainties of money, health, and love; trust broken; decisions based on the bottom line rather than human dignity. If your spirits aren’t being challenged, undone, or unraveled, then you are not paying attention. Sometimes I click on my Facebook newsfeed, and there, sitting

Dearest monks and artists, Our website issues have all been fully resolved and security strengthened. We also welcomed a new group of pilgrims to Galway and are journeying together this week. Like many of you, global events lately feel quite overwhelming at times and I ponder and pray about my response. One thing I keep coming back to is a sense of deep certainty that the way of the monk and path of the artist make a difference in the world. What distinguishes these two ways of being is that each are called to live deliberately on the edges of

Dearest monks and artists, One of my favorite lines from the Rule of Benedict is “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (RB 53:1). The heart of hospitality is to welcome in that which is most unknown, most strange, most discomfiting, as the very face of the divine into our lives. To take this invitation even a step further, it isn’t just the strangers that arrive at our outer doors who call us to this hospitality. Perhaps an even greater call is to welcome in the parts of ourselves we