Visit the Abbey of the Arts online retreat platform to access your programs:

Reflections

Category: Abbess love notes

Filter

Feast of St. Gobnait – Patron of Bees ~ 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

Read More

Honoring Imbolc and the Feast of St Brigid ~ A love note from your online abbess

Dearest monks and artists, I share with you a brief excerpt from our online self-study retreat Sacred Seasons: A Yearlong Journey through the Celtic Wheel of the Year. February 1st-2nd marks a confluence of several feasts and occasions including: the Celtic feast of Imbolc, St. Brigid’s Day, Candlemas, Feast of the Presentation, and Groundhog Day! Imbolc is a Celtic feast that is cross-quarter day, meaning it is the midway point between the winter solstice and spring equinox.  The sun marks the four Quarter Days of the year (the Solstices and Equinoxes) and the midpoints are the cross-quarter days.  In some cultures

Read More

Dance with Miriam on the Shores of Freedom ~ A love note from your online abbess

Miriam on the Shores “All the women went out after her with tambourines and dancing.” – Exodus 15:20 Her skirt hangs heavy with seawater, staccato breath after running from death. She can still feel soldiers reaching out to seize her blouse before the waves caved in. Collapsing on dry earth for a moment, the impulse to dance begins in her feet, spreads slowly upwards like a flock of starlings rising toward a dawn-lit sky. So many dances in secret before, night-stolen movements after exhausting days heaving stones and harvest. She finds herself now upright, weeping. To stand here, face to

Read More

St. Ita and What is Most Essential ~ A love note from your online abbess

Dearest monks and artists, Today is the feast of Saint Ita.  She was a 6th century Irish saint and is the second most significant woman saint in Ireland after Brigid. Her hagiographer even called her a “second Brigid” and her name Ita means thirst.  She established a church in Limerick called Killeedy, which means Church of Ita. When she was young she received a dream in which she was gifted three precious stones. She was unsure as to its meaning and pondered it. Later, in another visitation, it was revealed to her that throughout her life she would receive many

Read More

My Word for 2017: Hermit

Dearest monks and artists, I have been grateful for this last season, a time of descent into the outer darkness and then the stillness that comes during those in-between days from Christmas to Epiphany. There has been a bronchial flu going around Galway which I came down with a couple of weeks ago. It amplified the mood of going inward and just embracing the gift of rest. We had a very full fall with four wonderful groups on pilgrimage, including in our beloved Vienna. Then we bought an apartment in Galway and moved house. Even though it was within the

Read More

New Year Blessings! What is your word for the year? ~ A love note from your online abbess

To the New Year With what stillness at last you appear in the valley your first sunlight reaching down to touch the tips of a few high leaves that do not stir as though they had not noticed and did not know you at all then the voice of a dove calls from far away in itself to the hush of the morning so this is the sound of you here and now whether or not anyone hears it this is where we have come with our age our knowledge such as it is and our hopes such as they

Read More

Christmas Blessings from Ireland! ~ A love note from your online abbess

The Risk of Birth This is no time for a child to be born, With the earth betrayed by war & hate And a comet slashing the sky to warn That time runs out & the sun burns late. That was no time for a child to be born, In a land in the crushing grip of Rome; Honour & truth were trampled by scorn- Yet here did the Saviour make his home. When is the time for love to be born? The inn is full on the planet earth, And by a comet the sky is torn- Yet Love

Read More