Pacific Winds
Recorder Group

Opening for

Cecilia String Quartet

Saturday, January 15, 2011
6:30 pm
at Mt. Greens Clubhouse
Lacey, WA

Pacific Winds is a recorder group composed of Barbara Gibson, Tenor; Sister Monika Ellis, OSB, Alto; Katie Callahan, Karin Wallner-Bickham and Shannon Blood, Sopranos.

Cecilia String Quartet's members are: Sherry Riebli, First Violin; Phyllis Solter, Second Violin; Anne Edge, Viola; Judi Martin, Cello.

Cecilia's website: http://psolter.com/CECILIA/index.html
Mt. Greens information: http://calendar.theolympian.com/lacey-wa/venues/show/4179145-mt-greens-clubhouse

In the Wee Hours

A strange owl passed through
our woods last night; I woke, but
did not hear my name.

help of the helpless

healing in your wings,
my sisters' hands, the trees, and
in the songs of whales

Spring at the Priory

Spring is beautiful here on the St. Placid Priory grounds. The air bathed with fresh rains has a fragrance like no other time of the year. The rhododendrons are in bloom and brighten the otherwise shady places with lush and abundant color. Returning migratory birds sing in our forest in a chorus of sound that brings me outside many times during the day. I just now spotted a pair of Wilson's warblers, bright yellow, chipping away full throated. How can such a small bird make such a BIG sound?

The forest floor, especially on the Sacred Path of Enchantment, is covered with millions of tiny white flowers. What a show!

I hope you find time to step outside in spring days and discover something going on that fills you with hope and renewal.

Inspiration

Two highlights of this past week. Several of us were privileged to hear Greg Mortenson speak - the author of Three Cups of Tea and Stones into Schools. He was as down-to-earth with a clear vision of the importance of educating our daughters as I had imagined. The evening was especially inspiring as it was the vision and work of high schoolers, to bring him to town and to promote what Mortenson does.

Then last evening several of us attended a play, The Thin Place, at Intiman Theater in Seattle. Written by a local playwright based on some interviews with a very diverse group of people about faith, and the place of faith in their lives. A one act play with a Nigerian American, Gbenga Akinnagbe. Ghenga did an excellent job; a gifted presence. He shifted characters with ease.

Truly Living

Life was meant to be lived, with all its joys and struggles and unknowns. I have found the monastic journey to be an invitation - and even a requirement - that I enter fully into the mystery of living life, of the unfolding of a truly HUMAN life. Play is important too!

Anyway, I like the words of poet Dawna Markova:

"I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear

of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible,

to loosen my heart

until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom,

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit."

Sacred Play and Gestating Questions

I've just spent a nurturing day with playful, prayerful women. We practiced incorporating creativity and art into spiritual direction and pastoral ministry. I too suspect Jesus was out playing with the children more than preaching in the Temple! One of the gems I bring from the day is the following poem by David Whyte.

Sometimes

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest

breathing
like the ones
in the old stories

who could cross
a shimmering bed of dry leaves
without a sound,

you come
to a place
whose only task

is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests

conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.

requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and

to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,

questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,

questions
that have patiently
waited for you,

questions that have no right
to go away.

-- David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You
©2007 Many Rivers Press

Earth Day

Our monastery grounds are gorgeous. Simply stunning with an abundance of life. Dramatic changes in season, from the stark barrenness of winter (which is no such thing) to the bursting forth of life in spring, to the emerging colors of summer and the beauty of the change of life in fall. The sunlight plays through our trees, and the stars at night call us to something more. And beyond ourselves.

Many people assist in creating and protecting and nurturing this beauty, from the mundane tasks of mowing and pruning and feeding. We have friends who have and continue to create: rock gardens, circular gardens, sacred paths of enchantment and the planting of annuals. Birds gift us with music and squirrels simply entertain.

Now all is not well in paradise. Deer eat. Raccoons, well, forage. Moles move dirt in directions we hadn't intended...

We humans are dependent upon creation for our survival. Yet also for growth. Creation heals. Creation gives hope. Creation fills our souls and suggests vision. Let us notice all that is around us, especially in the most unexpected places.

Sacred Transitions

A dewy bone-chilling cold. Hints of blue sky dancing with fog and cloud. Hints of blossoms ready to burst forth. Grass an emerald green. This morning was the graveside service for the mother of a friend - someone discerning a call to join our community. Prayer; words of remembrance; and soft chant: and may the angels take you up to paradise...

Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day: a celebration of Irish culture. But more. A celebration of the many cultures and ancestors who helped shape who we are today. Tomorrow is the Solemnity of St. Joseph: a remembrance of all the (step-)fathers and grandfathers who loved us and challenged us; protected us and encouraged us. We are not alone: in tribe nor in father figures. Today we sisters remembered Mechtild of Magdeburg, a thirteenth-century beguine who preached extensively. Her book is called The Flowing Light of the Godhead. The passing of time, in all its intricacies, is sacred. Let us notice and remember.

Sacredness of Death

The rain fell gently today. Messy, cold, disruptive and yet beautiful. Reminds me of Richard. A close friend of more than 35 years had called me yesterday morning to speak of her continued grief and challenges in journeying with her dying father; she and her mother, siblings and extended family. While on the phone the call came in - her father had gently passed away. More quiet tears. Messy because we should not want someone to die; messy because Richard had been in a waking coma for more than 9 months; messy because the best and the worst in each of them emerged. Yet death is sacred, gentle while violent, a journey. Let the tears flow.

The Monastic Vocation

We have two women here at St. Placid Priory this weekend discerning their vocation to the monastic life. Have you ever considered joining a monastic community? The monastic way is for people who long for the deeper things - deeper relationship with God, deeper relationships with others, deeper self knowledge, deeper prayer life, deeper commitment. We live a life of routine, prayer, and service dotted with those wonderful surprises by God. The daily Liturgy of the Hours (aka Divine Office) nourishes us, Lectio Divina deepens us, and the surprises God sends keep us on our toes, keep us laughing, and keep us going! You can see more information about the monastic way at our web site: http://www.stplacid.org

The Gifts That Differ

Today we celebrated the Feast of St. Placid and St. Maurus. Our chapel was lovely with an icon of St. Placid, patron of our monastery, surrounded by red vigil lights. It made me think of all the gifts we bring to community, and how we share them with each other and with the larger community. The gift of creativity, of making beautiful things and making our surroundings beautiful, is without price. Beauty helps us to pray, to be fully present, to celebrate.

The closing hymn at Eucharist was "Sing a New Church," text by Dolores Dufner, OSB of St. Benedict's Monastery, St. Joseph, MN. The refrain is--

"Let us bring the gifts that differ
and in splendid varied ways
sing a new church into being
one in faith and love and praise."

Thanks be to God for each person's gifts, and the way we share them!

R&R

Fall day trip: my heart
and being expand, like a
lovers' rendezvous...

Prayer Shawls

Our hearts are full of so many things...sometimes we just need a listening ear, another heart that will receive what we have to pour out. Often, there is nothing to be done about these things except to listen, to receive.

One thing I have appreciated being able to do for someone who is ill or grieving, or who is afraid for someone else who is sick: offer them a prayer shawl. Our Knitters and Spinners spend many prayerful hours knitting shawls for just this purpose...to give to someone who is suffering for whatever reason. And they are received with such gratitude.

I give thanks for all our Priory Knitters and Spinners who knit prayers of comfort and healing into warm shawls, pouring out their love and energy for others. Amen.

A Gathering of Writers

Last night was the weekly gathering of my writers critique group. We are the Puget Sound Writers Guild (www.pugetsoundwritersguild.org). We are feisty, committed, opinionated, caring, daring, funny and too often perplexed with our own writing process. But we are honest and supportive of each others' writing process. We hear three presentations - usually scenes, sometimes planning material - and give constructive feedback. This is where the laughter and the bantering erupts.

We offer a class - the novice class - for those interested in learning the internal structure and process for creating, writing and fine editing novel-length stories. Our newest 'graduating class' is now with us. Each new member adds a unique perspective, and it's fun to see them stretch and grow as professional writers.

I am in the early stages of writing a medieval who-dun-it involving a beguine sleuth. We're currently in 1280 Bruges and three innocent souls have died. Or were they so innocent?

Lunch with Cousin Maria

A death in the family can bring people together as it did today in my family. Cousin Rosemary was born in the same year and the same month as I - twenty days earlier than me. She died suddenly, very unexpectedly. It is hard to imagine a world without Rosemary. In our growing up years we visited often and I knew her as fun loving, full of surprises, willing to state her opinion on any topic, beautiful.

I met her sister for lunch today, along with my own sister. We reminisced and we caught up on each others' lives. We talked about Rosemary and our whole family. We promised each other to meet again - soon.

Jesus came with the promise of eternal life. In faith I know Rosemary lives. In faith, I know we will all meet again, and relatively soon. Humanly, however, I miss Rosemary, and I cherish even more, now, the times I meet face to face with the people I love. The being together comforts and bolsters me against the sadness of leave takings. The coming together and the going away... all part of this wondrous life on earth.

Details, details, details. That was my day, today. How satisfying to make a list of those little, but not unimportant, details that need to get done, and then watch as each thing is checked off the list. My day had no other appointments or meetings - rare and wonderful. So, I set about taking care of the "thises and thatses" which can weigh me down if I procrastinate too long.

What are you waiting to take care of? What little detail niggles you at the back of your consciousness? Is it a thank you note waiting to be written? Is it a phone call needing to be made? Is it organizing your email? Is it repairing a hem? Is it saying, "I'm sorry."?

Take some time today to consider what little (or big) details are weighing you down. Develop a list, and then let a little burst of energy enliven you to get them done and check them off, one by one. You'll feel better. I did!

Blessed Beauty

Since the quiet of our retreat, we have been blessed with many days of sun, whose rays have highlighted the sounds of birds chirping, flowers blooming, and even the variation of greens in the foliage. I try to let God's Cathedral support me in my writing; to soak it in so that (hopefully) what comes out on quill and paper also reflects God's ongoing creation.

What Birds Talk About

Birds in the morning
working, talking cheerily
of life in the trees.

Light Prayer

Praying through or with the energies all around me, the light that enfolds me and every thing, is wondrous. Words from the past take on new meanings: Jesus Christ, the light of the world; the kingdom of God is within; don't hide the light under a bushel basket - put it out on a lampstand; God is my light and my salvation; let your light shine for all the world to see; Who touched me? I felt the energy go out of me... The burning bush... the column of fire by night...

I feel a wind of transformation blowing through me, blowing through the universe. We are waking up to new possibilities, new responsibilities. It is the light that leads me. It is a good morning.