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.