happy holy-days

Dear friends,

This Christmas season finds me remaining at Holy Hill, where I have been since Oct 6, when my parents left from their lovely little tour of Scotland and Ireland with me.  It was quite the wonderful little adventure we had together! -- dashing through the rain, squishing through bogs, sheltering in castles, driving through the mountains (and through herds of cattle or sheep depending on the day), sleeping in lighthouses, riding on ferries, standing in megalithic structures older than the great pyramids, climbing in ruined church towers, comparing scones, mourning for trees, gazing at the ocean, watching the clouds race across the sky, and basking in the sun's rare glow.

As you know if you've been reading my blog, I was ready for some calm, quiet time to reflect on my experiences, rejuvenate my spirit, and consider my future, so I came to Holy Hill, which was offering a 2-month contemplative experience for young adults. 

T.S Eliot's description fits my experience here when he writes,

and what you thought you came for
is only a shell, a husk of meaning
from which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled
if at all.  either you had no purpose
or the purpose is beyond the end you figured
and is altered in fulfillment.
...
you are not here to verify,
instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
or carry report.  you are here to kneel
where prayer has been valid...

(4 Quartets: Little Gidding)

I thought I would be spending most of my time on discernment, trying to decide the next steps to take in this journey that is my life. Of course I was also looking forward to the support of a spiritual community and other young adults in similar situations, but pretty soon those spiritual hungers took over my practical quest and I was fully immersed in the program schedule:
7am morning office, work projects from 1-4pm, group book discussions on Tuesday and Friday from 11-12, silence from 4-5, evening office at 5, dinner on Wednesdays at 6, Friday night movie after communion service, Saturday morning chores from 9-12 and sabbath vigil/compline at 7:30pm followed by silence until Sunday morning. Saturday and/or Sunday afternoons often involved community outings, visiting local sites of historic/cultural/religious significance or going on walks in the woods/on the beach. Sunday brunch was the big feast of the week, when usually all of the retreatants would be present. Mondays were much needed "desert days" of solitude. Plus there were often special things going on during the week: a trip south to visit Ballintubber Abbey, a Celtic Christian ceremony at a Holy Well, a play, a trad session at a pub.

The questions about my future have not been answered, and yet I seem to have made some peace with the idea of simply trying to live in touch with myself and with God and trusting that as I do so, things will unfold...  Advent is all about clearing a place in your heart for God to enter in; trusting the goodness of God enough to let the Spirit take root in your soul and be born into the world through you.

May beauty and grace find you this Christmas season,

autumn