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Reflections

Category: Poetry

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The Art of Disappearing

Tomorrow I head off to the Spiritual Directors International Conference being held this year in Vancouver, BC.  I am especially looking forward to my workshops on First Nations cosmology and one on animal companionship and spirituality. When I return Sunday I have two projects I really need to focus some time and energy on, so I am going to take a blogging break until the end of next week just to clear some space for myself. -Christine Valters Paintner @ Abbey of the Arts

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Holy Thursday

I was praying this morning about Holy Thurday, about what it means to me that Jesus took bread and broke it, and shared it with his friends.  He said this is my body.  He poured the wine and said this is my blood.  These words have rippled through time and woven us together in a common narrative.  I thought about the ways that sharing of food across cultures and religious traditions has great significance.  Meals become sacred acts.  Breaking bread and pouring wine are sacraments because they immerse us in the nourishment of all that is holy and remind us that any divisions between us

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What Keeps You From Being Fully Free?

Passover Then you shall take some of the blood, and put it on the door posts and the lintels of the houses . . . and when I see the blood, I shall pass over you, and no plague shall fall upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt. -Exodus 12:7 & 13 They thought they were safe that spring night; when they daubed the doorways with sacrificial blood. To be sure, the angel of death passed them over, but for what? Forty years in the desert without a home, without a bed, following new laws

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Flowers Appear on the Earth

For see, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of pruning the vines has come, and the song of the dove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance. Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!  (Song of Songs 2:11-13) Yesterday was a beautiful morning in Seattle.  I went on a walk with Tune to capture more images of those wondrous cherry trees. As the flowers appeared on the earth I heard the ancient call that keeps

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Guardians of Beauty

We are the guardians of His Beauty. We are the protectors Of the Sun. There is only one reason We have followed God into this world: To encourage laughter, freedom, dance And love. Let a noble cry inside of you speak to me Saying, “Hafiz, Don’t just sit there on the moon tonight Doing nothing  – Help unfurl my heart into the Friend’s Mind, Help, Old Man, to heal my wounded wings!” We are the companions of His Beauty We are the guardians Of Truth. Every man, plant and creature in Existence, Every woman, child, vein and note Is a

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Impossible, Necessary Resurrections

What will you give up for this season, to help life along in its curious reversals? As if we had a choice. As if the world were not constantly shedding us like feathers off a duck’s back— the ground is always littered with our longings. You can’t help but wonder about all the heroes, the lives and limbs sacrificed in their compulsion toward the good. All those who dropped themselves upon the earth’s hard surface— weren’t they caught in pure astonishment in the breath before they shattered? Forget sacrifice. Nothing is so firmly tied that the wind won’t tear it

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Ocean of Longing

    Last Wednesday I went to the Hood Canal to check out a place for our Awakening the Creative Spirit program we are planning to offer in a weeklong intensive form (more info on this to come, dates are Nov 11-18, 2007).  I decided to make the trip into a mini-retreat and spend the night in the area.  Tune was with me, as well as my camera and journal — three of the essential elements for a good retreat.  The Hood Canal area is a lovely place, hovering along the edge of a channel of still water.  I took the ferry across the Puget Sound from Seattle to

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