Dearest monks and artists, In 2007 I traveled to Ireland with my husband John and began to fall in love with the path of Irish monasticism. I discovered more stories and a way of moving through the world that felt more spiral and less linear, more organic and less structured. The early period of Irish monasticism is quite unique in that it was less influenced by the Roman church and desire for uniformity of practice. The Irish monks integrated Christian teachings with the Druidic wisdom of their ancestors, and created a spirituality that was much more indigenous to the place

Dearest monks and artists, 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 self-entitlement and

Dearest monks and artists, This has been a challenging week for many of us across the globe. If anything these events remind us even more of how essential this path of the monk is in a world that favors division, hatred, constant noise, and an endless, manic rushing. This community of fellow monks gives me great hope. These practices offer us a steady place in this midst of chaotic times. Our clocks and calendars were created as tools to serve us, but the roles have reversed and now we serve them in their perpetual drive forward. They measure time horizontally,

Dearest monks and artists, We live in a breathless world. Everything around us seems to move at faster and faster speeds, summoning us to keep up. We multitask, we organize, we simplify, we do all we can to keep on top of the many demands on our time. We yearn for a day with more hours in it so we can complete all we long to do. We often talk about wasted time, or time as money, or time fleeting. This rushed existence is not sacred time. Sacred time is time governed by the rhythms of creation, rhythms that incorporate

Dearest monks and artists, Samhain marks one of the two great doorways of the Celtic year. The Celts divided the year into two seasons: the season of light and the season of dark. Some believe that Samhain was the more important festival, marking the beginning of a whole new cycle, just as the Celtic day began at night. In the silence of darkness comes the whisperings of new beginnings. Two significant features of this feast is the beginning of the season of darkness and the honoring of ancestors. Crossing the threshold means welcoming in the dark as a time of

St. Brigid and the Fruit Tree There was the moment you could bear it no more. Your eyes brimming with great glistening drops summoned by the hunger of the world, the callous and terrible things men and women do to one another. Your tears splashed onto cold stony earth, ringing out like bells calling monks to prayer, like the river breaking open to the wide expanse of sea. From that salt-soaked ground a fruit tree sprouts and rises. I imagine pendulous pears, tears transmuted to sweetness. There will always be more grief than we can bear. There will always be