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

Dearest monks and artists, Welcome to all of our new subscribers who signed on during our sabbatical time! I have thoroughly enjoyed taking this time to step back from email and social media and allowing more time for silence and reflection. Summer lends itself to a holy pause and a time to look ahead to the coming year and what rhythms we want to create for ourselves that allow listening to a deeper voice. I was reminded too of those foundational things which sustain and nourish me most. I feel ready to dive back into the work I love so

Dearest monks and artists, We like to take some Sabbath time each summer to step back from the work at hand and have time for play and free flow of ideas. Usually this happens in August, but because we will be traveling back to the States for a family visit in July, we decided to take our newsletter and posting break during this next month or so until early August. Sabbath is one of the principles of our Monk Manifesto: “The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the

Dearest monks and artists, In the northern hemisphere we approach the celebration of the summer solstice, the longest day. The seasons are connected to the different cardinal directions, as well as the four elements. Hildegard of Bingen, a 12th century Benedictine Abbess, allied the direction of the south and the season of summer with the element of fire. We find a similar connection in the Native American Cherokee tradition and in the Irish Celtic tradition. We might think of summer as the season of fire and stoking our passions. It is the season of coming to fullness connected to the Hour