Thanksgiving

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the imperfections of my life these days that it takes a determined effort to look past it all and be thankful; to remember how many things I do have to be thankful for, even if life isn’t all that I’d like it to be.  There’s so much unknowing, unfulfillment, and of course self-judgment… I’m [still] not living where I want to live, not working where I want to work, not learning what I want to learn… 

And yet.

I have a comfortable place to live, with generous people who have shared their home with me.

I have a meaningful, enlivening worship community.

I have friends nearby, and friends both near and far who care about me. 

I have family who love me.

When I think about it, I really am overwhelmed with gratitude to all of the people who support me in so many different ways!  And I am so thankful to all of those people in my life who have helped me navigate a way through crises and confusions, holding my hand and helping me find clarity and confidence; encouraged me in my adventures; and those who applauded me for taking my time to figure things out in moments when I was frustrated with my lack of forward movement.  I am awed and humbled that people ask me, in the midst of all my own uncertainties, for advice! 

I’m grateful for my education and that I know how to cook.

And that I was taught (or perhaps allowed) to cultivate a sense of awe: the ability to notice and give thanks for the small things, and marvel at God’s goodness.  God’s immanence.  The knowledge that we are holy and everything that is is holy.    

I’m grateful for the trees that keep me grounded, for my eyes that seek out wonder, birds that teach me freedom, feet that carry me to beautiful places, sounds that bring me joy, lungs that give me breath.  And for this earth that feeds us.

Wherever you may be today, whoever you may be with, thank you for being part of my life, and may you also be graced with wonder. 

Happy Thanksgiving.

on the move again...

So I guess I'm not quite ready to change the name of this blog yet...

I've had a wonderful two months at my parents' home in Oregon while readjusting to American culture and getting used to life outside of a monastery...  2+ months filled with camping trips in the woods/mountains with my parents, visits to friends and grandmothers, raspberry-blueberry-blackberry-picking, jam-making, playing marimba, going to the farmers' market, a day at the beach, a friend's wedding, sorting through the boxes of stuff I have stored in the attic, pesto-making, a mozzarella cheese experiment, a little bit of gardening, and babysitting the kids in the community - mostly the very calm and adorable Amada (8 mos).  In other words: lots of things to keep me occupied and help me avoid planning my next move... :\

But after the celebratory festivities of my dad's 60th birthday and one final camping trip, it's on the move again for me -- this time in my new super-classy  gold 1998 Toyota Camry with leather seats and fake wood trim...  It's a cross-country road trip to Massachusetts to be reunited with the other bits of my life and decide where to go (or see where it takes me) from there. 

I envision:  living in the country/city outskirts.  living simply.  living in community - even better, a community with spiritual values.  being part of a religious community (church, small groups, etc.).  living close enough to an urban area to be able to take advantage of what it offers - cultural and educational opportunities.  plenty of access to quiet outdoor space.  working with kids (esp. 7-11 yr-olds).  working outdoors.  gardening.  improving my folk-guitar skills.  taking some classes, get some training to increase my knowledge and skills re:gardening/working with kids/communicating, figuring out if i want/need to go to grad school/seminary... 

If you have any ideas about places/towns, organizations, networks, farms, communities, programs, jobs, people, resources, I'd love it if you could point me in their direction! 

I imagine the next few months will be more unsettled than I'd prefer, but hopefully my visions and dreams and trust in god's goodness will keep me going and lead me through it to a place of firmer rootedness...  

homing

farewell, Holy Hill, home of my heart these past 8 months...thank you for all your love and care and stretching and soul-nurturing and adventuring and faith-exploring and laughter and the growing of gifts and gardens...(and thanks to the sun for shining bright on my last day here!)
who would have guessed when i arrived here in October how things would unfold?  certainly not i.  it was a time of deep personal and spiritual growth, and i'm certain that it has impacted me in ways that i probably don't even know yet, and won't be aware of until i get home.  

yes, home.  after one year and five months (almost to the day!) i am finally returning to the USA.  there are things i'm going to miss incredibly: the simple rhythm of daily life and communal prayer; my role as liturgical musician - and my performance buddy and partner-in-creativity; Saturday night Sabbath vigils and sung compline; the constantly shifting skies; walks on Dunmoran strand; the stunning view of Sligo/Ballisodare Bay, Knoncknarae, Ben Bulben, and the Slieve League; my window seat; pottery lessons with Paddy; spiritual direction sessions with Margaret; music sessions in Tubbercurry with Liam; cooking with Sioga; talking and singing with Travis; eating Barbara's custard w/apple tart; Rev. Allen's booming voice; being addressed as Lady Autumn and "my fair dame" by the estimable and eccentric Brother Thomas; having a whole beautiful library of meaningful books at my disposal; nobody thinking it odd if all you want to do is hole up in your hermitage and be quiet for hours on end; being surrounded by loving and encouraging people who are concerned more about the state of your soul & spirit and inner integrity than anything else...and being offered endless cups of tea.

it's like i've been enfolded in a nurturing womb, and it's been beautiful, but it also feels like the right time to leave.  i needed it, but i've been there long enough and it's time to figure out how to move forward with my life and the other aspects of my calling - it's helped me find my feet and now it's time to use them.  i feel strong enough and eager enough to press "play" and see what happens...i'm exhausted with all of this traveling and dibbling and dabbling of the last 5 years and i'm feeling ready to stop and be settled and create a life for myself.  i don't really know what that means yet, only that hopefully i'll feel less like a "wondering and wandering wind-blown leaf" and more like a little tree sapling...

Swimming the Deeps

sorry for my silence over the past 2 months, but...

I’ve been swimming the deeps

        of soul
with all the mysteries that await
        in the pressing green darkness
Enclosed and caressed
        by the surging current
Drawn down into the swirling murkiness
Reaching out-reaching in-searching
        for  -  the unnameable
                          unknowable
                          who am i how am i why am i
                          who are you
                          what is love what is God what is good
                          ?
 
Shafts of sunlight illumine the life around me
The waters churn-contract-expand
                        and me with them
        insistent in a slow soft-edged way
        demanding something more of me…
 
Yes I’ve been swimming the deeps
        captivating deeps of soul
But I must learn to use my feet again
        come up for air
And breathe into my humanness.


PS - today i took my leave of Holy Hill.  i will write a reflection on this one of these days.

an easter poem

(this poem has been gestating since it was originally conceived in February, and i think today would be an appropriate day to share it!  despite any imperfections that may remain.  critiques are welcome via email...)

lilting through an afternoon sunspell

tripping over myself with joy

i press my hands

against my breast

in fear that my heart

may else come tumbling out

if I let go...

no longer could i call my heart

"mine"...

-is that what it means

 to die of love?

-it would be annihilated

by that ultimate

ever-living

Holy Fire.

-it would disintegrate

into innumerable shining flecks

burrowing into the earth

rising on the song of a sparrow

whirling in the wind

sprinkling stardust wherever it passed

enlivening all it touched

  

and I would be

-resurrected!

but hasn't this happened 

already?

these feeble human hands

in their pathetic embrace of this

fractured human heart

            -which is even now seeping out through every pore in my body!

haven’t a self-preserving chance 

in the presence of this

infinite

ever-loving God.

my anniversary

One year ago, on just such a misty day as this, I stepped off the plane onto Irish soil for the first time and my eyes first encountered the elegant Scots pine, the graceful snowdrop, the fierce gorse bush.

I was filled with such ambition, adventure, expectation...I was approaching my upcoming experiences almost like a research project - I was going to learn darn-dungit!  Learn communication and conflict resolution skills, learn more about my own gifts, interests, spirituality, gathering information to help me with my vocational discernment.

Never would I have imagined that I would still be here a year later - and at a monastery no less!  I did not expect to end up living at Holy Hill for 3 months (much less 7!).  I did not expect to end  up doing such huge spiritual discernment.  I was interested in practical discernment!

And yet, here I am.  Still not knowing where life will take me next, but so much more sure of who I want to be, both apprehensive and excited to see how this journey will unfold...

God is impossible to predict.

risking winter

After what has been (apparently) an unseasonably warm winter in Ireland (especially compared with the previous two years!), and all sorts of exclamations and excited over the first noticeable signs of spring (lambs!, noisy birds!1 blooming snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils!), we have just experienced the three coldest days of the season - the coldest since I left 2 newly fallen feet of snow in Boston a year ago!  It was below freezing in the mornings, and the hard frost left the grass white and crunchy all day long in most places.  The rocks in the courtyard fountain are coated with a thick layer of clear ice.  The skies have been sunny and cloudless.  And the sunrises have been incredible.  Here's the second draft of a poem inspired by the weather:

Risking winter
Our winters do not want
to let us go. 

If the spring comes
before its time
it opens itself,
boldly vulnerable,
to winter's clinging
claws. 

but that is the risk we take
when we let our passionate God
love us into life.

stability

A couple of days before Epiphany, during a conversation in the car in which I was talking about not wanting to leave Holy Hill and feeling like there wasn't anything tugging me back home, the question was posed "why don't you just stay for a few more months?"

So I had a talk with Sister Pat to find out what the thinking was behind her proposal.   She made the point, “why leave if you’re happy and growing and you don’t have any reason to leave?”  Her offer was for me to stay for 3 more months and do some more intentional spiritual formation with the community.  She gave me a week to decide.

When the proposal was made, it immediately resonated with me, but there were plenty of resistances in me, too – not the least of which was the idea of having to tell people that I’d changed my plans!  I was also worried that staying here might just be a form of running away from the decisions I’ll have to make about my future because I don’t feel ready to make them yet...(Previously, whenever I thought about leaving, I would get anxious and upset, not just because I was enjoying Holy Hill so much, but also because I felt like I would be leaping into a void, and I was afraid of that.)  On the flip side, I was also nervous about the possibility of getting bored here or feeling like I’m not accomplishing anything practical.

I’ve been reading a little book on the Rule of Benedict by Esther deWall, and she/he said some things about stability that I feel articulates part of the significance for me of choosing to remain here.  By staying in one place, I am “persevering” with the inner journey I have begun here, rather than continuing “this bewildering and exhausting rushing from one thing to another,” “flitting about collecting a ragbag of well-intentioned but half-though-out ideals based on a confused amalgam of some of the more attractive elements in each.” (not quite what I've been doing, but a good point nonetheless).  As a quote I copied from another book I was reading says, “We have to seize the opportunities that lie at hand...Life must not be the span in which we DO many things but LIVE none of them.”  So I am seizing this opportunity and choosing to live it.  I am “hanging on, not running away [from myself, from commitment], sticking it out in the situation in which God has put me, and in the context of these people.”

I’m choosing 3 months of directed spiritual formation, taking the time to explore my questions about faith and about living a holy/whole life, about monasticism and what it is about it that draws me, and what aspects of the rule of life here I might be able to carry with me into my life elsewhere.  I will have support in my discernment of the next steps, and I will get to spend time choosing/singing/playing music for worship, and in the garden, dreaming up a community permaculture project!   

It’s not that I couldn’t go home and find all of these things there as well, but why leave when it’s all right here in front of me already?  Plus, it feels really good to be staying put for a bit longer, rather than moving on again.  By the time I leave I will have been at Holy Hill for almost 7 months, which is the longest I’ve been anywhere since the 7 months I spent at Agape!

I feel a deep sense of peace and joy at being able to take this time here with this community, and I feel like it's one of the most right decisions I've ever made.