I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from Roy DeLeon. Roy is a fellow oblate at St. Placid Priory, dear friend of the Abbey, and presenter in the self-study retreat Exile and Coming Home. Read on for his reflection “An Oblate Artist.” On a cold, sunny Saturday in February, I am holding a cup of hot coffee from Vita Cafe at the KEPX radio station located in the Seattle Center. My fellow Urban Sketchers (Seattle chapter) are already set up and sketching what caught their eyes. I walk around, scouting

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Hillel Brandes’ reflection on being in community with the landscape. I walked out on the boardwalk into the saltmarsh, next to a tidal creek. I stopped to simply take in the sights, smells, and sounds: the grass as far as the eye could see, the wide blue sky, the soft mud directly below me with its distinctive odor, the edge of the creek in front of me, marsh wren welcoming me with her gurgles and buzzy trills. 

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Diane Morris Jones’ reflection on being a bridge builder. Am I a bridge builder or a wedge driver in my relationships? The time and energy of a reflective process of distinguishing between the two can be insightful. Discerning whether we are a bridge builder or a wedge driver—in our thoughts, in our feelings, in our behaviors—is an awareness practice that invites us to open our hearts and look closely at our intentions.  I so desire to have

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Sue Schuerman’s reflection “Language of the Land.” My earliest companion was the natural world. Ocean, sand, orange trees, seashells, sea gulls, and chameleons—all spoke to me in a language that I didn’t understand at the time. Sixty years later I’m just beginning to comprehend the wisdom these natural teachers have to offer. Under the dappled shade of orange trees, behind my grandparents’ home, where I played as a child, I had a Place. Tucked in behind the leaves