lent, again

it's lent again.  i've had such a different experience of lent every year since finishing college.  that first year i spent it with my sister at her little monastery in Honduras as i began the long journey back to spiritual wholeness.  the next year i was living in Camden, NJ, rotating my worship between two churches in Philly and our neighborhood Lutheran church.  my practice of being more intentional and balanced in my spirituality, relationships, and life was informed by Chestnut Hill UMC.  The following year found me at the Agape Community in western MA as i found direction.  two years ago i had a lazy lent in Northern Ireland.  last year i was soul-searching at Holy Hill Hermitage in Ireland, and what an awesome experience that was.

what the preceding list doesn't reveal is all of the other places i've been around and between this litany of locales through which i've wandered and wondered over the past 6 years.  and now it's lent again, and here i am in Boston, trying to find rhythm and purpose while being mostly unemployed and ensconcing myself in the emergent church community of The Crossing.

as lent begins, the Spirit drives Jesus out into the desert, into the wilderness, where he struggles with the questions of who he is and how he is called to live.  in church a question is asked, "where is your wilderness?"  this; this is my wilderness.

welcome to lent.

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...

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.

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.

gratitude

so much has happened on so many different levels of life this week, that i can hardly believe that one week could contain so much goodness: pottery with Paddy, singing workshops with Petra, masses with Fr. Bernard, a festive Thanksgiving meal, a music-filled birthday celebration, a beautiful advent service, a mud-filled walk in the bay with Paddy, homemade scones by Barbara, an exhilaratingly windy beach walk with Vincent, some deep email exchanges with friends back home, and two affirming emails from my mother...
on Wednesday i wrote in my journal "i feel like i could be the sunshine on this wet, windy, grey day!"

the overwhelming feeling in my heart this week has been gratitude. 

gratitude, gratitude, gratitude.

gratitude for the beauty of God revealed in creation and music.
gratitude for friends old and new who have enough mutual love and trust to be able to share deeply and honestly and hold each other up in our joys, our sorrows, our challenges, our questions.
gratitude for the community we have formed with our neighbors, for their generosity, hospitality, humor, and wisdom.
gratitude for [Catholic] priests who do radical things and who let us [Protestants] take communion
gratitude for my parents who love me and encourage me to follow my heart
gratitude for my own journey of spiritual growth and the peaceful place i find myself in at the moment
and this week especially: gratitude for Caroline and Alex and their passionate spirits! this is paired with much sadness, too, about the departure of our dear companions on this contemplative journey
- and yet the joy remains.

a not-quite-poem

(upon being requested to write a reflection about action and contemplation...)

over the weekend, i kept being stopped in my tracks at the sight of the way certain leaves would catch the sunlight and seem to glow almost like lightbulbs. sitting in worship on sunday, with the light streaming in through the windows i was, as often happens, filled with such a sense of joy and life and peace and, well, fullness...and i thought, “how do i share that with others?” so i spent the day looking for a metaphor, of something (in nature) that fills with light and then transmits that light to others. it would have been easy enough to use the symbol of water, of a vessel being filled with water until it overflows, but that didn’t seem very original. plus, i was looking for light. the moon also offered itself as an image, but it seemed a rather over-used cliche as well. and not quite appropriate, because the moon itself doesn’t fill with light, it just reflects it...

and then i went to the chapel to pray,
and there was the beautiful crucifix,
and there was the window which,
from my lowly vantage point (the floor)
perfectly framed a bare tree on the hillside and i thought:
     in order to keep living, the tree must
     give up its golden jewels to make space for
     new life. it is the never-ending
     cycle of growth, death, re-birth; of
     resurrection; of
     the spiritual life
through water, soil,
photosynthesis
we are fed, we grow
we are filled with the holy spirit;
and when we come to maturity,
our leaves turn into sparking jewels
     topaz and ruby
     filled with light!
but as we revel in this new-found beauty, we must
     eventually,
     by will or by force,
     let it go
     send it forth
     die to ourselves
     in order to serve the world’s needs
     for replenishment.
and yet through that very act,
we receive back again that very same gift
which after a period of rest, of dormancy, revives us
to begin again.

through prayer, silence, and contemplation, one grows and is filled with the glory of God until it can no longer contain itself, and it spills out into active service for the world, and is restored to fullness and new growth through further reflection and contemplation...

lessons from a clothespin

think of a clothesline. if the line is a spectrum representing God, then the clothespins are people, clinging to their beliefs about God. as the line gets blown about in the wind, they hang on tight with their faith and weather the storms that come their way. occasionally, heavy burdens come upon them which in the wind will sometimes cause them to twist and strain and even snap!

but there’s one little clothespin that spins freely round and around, sliding up and down the line as it moves in the wind. the others don’t understand – she doesn’t appear to be useful at all; no grip on reality, impossible to pin down, completely impractical! and yet, she never snaps and falls.

she has embraced the mystery of God, giving her the freedom to explore and celebrate, and the flexibility to face life’s challenges with an open mind...

the trees are black

(this is the first of two poems that i wrote this past week, not noticing until rereading them later how similar their themes were...must be a lot of waiting and trusting going on inside me right now!)

the trees are black

against a deep dark blue and yet
i know that they are green:
  green-and-brown-and-yellow-and-grey
...i have seen them.

the trees are black.

they stand un-self-consciously
their beautiful half-naked figures silhouetted
by the shining blue
sapphire light of early morning

waiting.
patiently

for the earth to turn (as it always does) towards
the sun; and be illumined
in all their autumnal glory.  and yet -
for now

the trees are black.

(pause)

8 months, 2 incredible and busy internships, and 1 wonderful whirlwind trip with my parents later, it's time to pause.
re-collect myself.
reflect.
integrate my experiences with my understanding of myself, my call, my spirituality.

what better place to do that than at a contemplative monastery?

the place is Holy Hill Hermitage, a Carmelite community in Skreen, Ireland, founded in connection to the Spiritual Life Institute based in Crestone, Colorado.  The four monks (3 sisters, 1 brother) are all from the US.

i am here with 5 other young people taking part in a "young adult contemplative experience."  together, we will be exploring our spirituality, participating in the monastery's rhythm of life and prayer, of community and solitude, through readings, discussions, and time spent outdoors in nature and getting to know the local community.

i don't know yet if my travels abroad are over for the time being, or if my time here will re-invigorate me, but i plan to remain here at least until the end of November.  where i go from here may well have more to do with the balance of my bank account than by any other ambitions for travel and exploration, although "home" (though i have many "homes" to choose from thanks to all of you wonderful people!) is beginning to tug me back in that direction as well...

synchronicity

in this time of uncertaintly about my future, i couldn't help but notice the synchronicity that today's scripture reading was the same one that helped me so much in my confusion four years ago (four years!).  it was the story of jesus walking on water and petter getting out of the boat to walk towards him.

last time, i interpreted the story much more metaphorically - about my faith journey, leaving behind the familiar, venturing into a more universal spirituality, and being supported in that journey by god.  this time, it was more literal, about physical journeys and callings.
"if you call me, i will come" says peter.  and jesus does, so peter steps out of the boat and goes.
my thought process went like this:
1) i'm waiting to hear that call
but 2) i'm not listening very actively, paying attention, reading, reflecting, writing, things that will help me hear it
then again, 3) peter didn't just stand there looking at jesus and waiting for him to call him out onto the water, he initiated it by asking jesus to call him!
so 4) i need to be not just listening, but asking... 

onion-less cooking

usually i'm excited to have people eat a meal that i've made - but not yesterday.  it was my turn to cook dinner last night, and for some reason i was feeling really unispired.  it was a strange feeling.  i didn't have a sense of accomplishment or joy, and i didn't particularly enjoy making it or eating it. 

i made tortillas, black beans, rice, and courgettes (zucchini, for all you americans), with lettuce, spiced up canned tomatoes, and cheese.  everyone loved it -- many of them had never had or even heard of black beans before!  but i, as the cook, wasn't really feeling it.  at least their enjoyment of it made me feel a bit better.

i stood there in the kitchen for ages, trying to think of something interesting to do with the beans and courgettes, but to no avail.  i just felt tired and dazed, and my brain wouldn't cooperate with the job i was supposed to be doing.

and all because we didn't have any onions...

Well, I've been here exactly a month now, and to my chagrin I haven't written any more updates.  However, you CAN read weekly-ish updates about what's happening at Camas on the Camas blog (called the camas diary), which will give you a good taste of what my life is like in general...

If you're not on my email list, here's the most recent summary of my life here:

This past month has consisted of getting to know the group of 10 staff I'll be living and working with until September, two full weeks of training, a couple of trips over to Iona, a wonderful visit from my good friend Gretchen, and our first two weeks of youth programs.  And lots of rain.  It was a bit of a shock to arrive here after two amazingly summery weeks in Northern Ireland where I was eating fresh spinach and rhubarb from the garden, and encounter such cold weather and a much later growing season.  We just had our first lettuce from the polytunnel this week!

 

In a typical week, a group will arrive on Saturday afternoon and leave on Friday morning.  The staff team takes turns cooking meals and leading different activities such as kayaking, hiking, raftbuilding, abseiling (rapelling), camping, arts & crafts, games, or other outdoor activities such as working in the garden or shelter-building.  After breakfast, which consists of porridge and scones, and chores we have morning reflection with the group.  lunch is always soup and fresh bread.  dinner is followed by evening reflection.  

 

staff also take turns leading the reflections, and i've found that aspect of life here to be the least fulfilling because many of the staff are either not that interested in spirituality or aren't comfortable using God-language with the groups.  It's only frustrating because it's not what I expected, given the mission statement and the Iona connection.  However, every Friday we go over to Iona, and I get the chance to attend worship in the Abbey and connect with volunteers there, and there are a few of us who do yoga in the mornings a few days a week, so that's all very nice.

 

At the moment I'm trying to decide when to take my week-long vacation this summer and where to go.  One idea I've had is to volunteer and attend the Greenbelt Festival down in Cheltenham, England, as long as I'm over in this part of the world!  Or perhaps find a super-cheap ticket to somewhere else in Europe...Any suggestions?  My term at Camas ends on September 17th, but my UK visa doesn't expire until early October, so I'd love to make use of it and do some more exploring or WWOOFing while I'm here!

If any of you are thinking of making a trip to Iona or Scotland or the UK between now and October, be in touch!

the season begins

Our first group has come and gone.  It took me a while to integrate with the teens, because my week started out with a day in the kitchen and then a day and a half off (while Gretchen was visiting!) and then more time in the kitchen. I didn't really have a chance to get to know them until Wednesday, when we did shelter-building in the woods, and then when we hiked to Trig Point on Thursday morning. 

I helped two of them plan their final reflection on Thursday evening, which was really great because they were excited about it and had their own ideas for it.  I just got to guide them a little; help them think about format and logistics, and encourage them.  It was fantastic.

I just really have a difficult time connecting with teenageres!  I knew this before coming to Camas, and it's always been true, even when I was a teenager myself...  I'll get a lot of practice this summer though, so hopefully I'll figure some things out and get more comfortable as the weeks go on...

flight

i watch the birds – crows and gulls, mostly, but also that striking black and white one whose name i do not know – i watch them in the air on these windy days; how the gusts and gales push them about faster, slower, up, down, sideways, even backwards, wreaking havoc on their usually graceful flight. i imagine what it might feel like, this experience of surrendering to the powerful, unpredictable wind.

Do they find it frustrating because it only serves to make their hunt for food more difficult? Or do they choose to take wing just for the fun of it? Do they fly only because they have to, or also because they want to?

Do birds feel joy?

Flying on a day like this seems like it would be so much more exciting than on a calm day...more exhilarating, requiring more skill and awareness. It's hard to believe they do it purely out of necessity, because they make such graceful patterns in the sky, rarely seeming to have a destination. Do they know that they are beautiful?

seeing them soar always makes me wish i could fly, but instead i just watch and imagine...can i live my earth-bound life with the same kind of grace, joy, and dependency on god's wind-spirit? time to practice being a bird...

happy international women's day!

in honor of international women's day, I thought I would share this reflection that I wrote last week:

I just watched “Stardust” - a whimsical, funny, sweet, fairy-tale. (Robert deNiro's gay pirate captain was the best character of the movie, but that's not what prompted me to write this...)

The self-proclaimed theme of the movie is that it's the story of how a young man grew up from a boy into a man. That's all fine and good, but later on I got to thinking...

I'm a young woman, and I'm at the stage of my life right now where I'm trying to grow up from a girl into a woman. The movie inspired that line of thought, but that's where it ended – I couldn't follow it any further, because unlike the premise of the movie, I'm not trying to become a man...

So where are the movies about young women growing up, and if they exist, what do they look like? Because they certainly don't look anything like this one or the other hundreds of coming-of-age movies about boys learning how to be men, finding themselves, becoming chivalrous and honorable... And Hollywood can make romantic comedies out of these stories. But how does the story change if the main character is female? It doesn't work to just switch the roles. If anything, the movies that do exist about women facing reality and growing up are generally not presented as comedies or fun, inspiring tales. Usually they're serious, if not depressing.

Any thoughts or movie recommendations?

digging in the dirt

today = fabulous.

Sunny and warm, it felt like April or a warm March day, and I got to dig in the dirt! :) my endorphins are happy.

A lot of people were here today working in their allotments, just like me, beginning to prepare the beds (Kilcranny has 13 plots rented out). I'm so energized and excited about gardening! I had forgotten how good it makes me feel.

In this case, I think it makes me extra-happy because it gives me a project I can take [at least partial] ownership of, and gives me a sense of purpose and direction that I've been lacking so far. With no one else assigning me tasks or schedules, it gives me something to do that I know how to do and that I can structure my day around.

and it's spring! (at least compared to being buried under snow in Boston!)

temporarily uncentered

If I didn't know that this lifestyle I'm living right now was temporary, I think I'd be going crazy. I'd be trying to find a way to become part of a community, looking for meaning, having a spiritual crisis even, and in general be really frustrated with my life.

I've found that in this urban, independent, work-a-day lifestyle (even though I love my job!), I don't know how to be centered in God. I've been using a Celtic prayer book to do brief morning and nighttime prayers to try and ground myself spiritually at least a little, but ironically, it sometimes makes it harder! Here's why: for the past year I've been living in the woods and the countryside, surrounded by nature, which is where I feel closest to God and most connected to my spirituality, and the prayer book uses a lot of nature imagery and metaphor. But I'm living in the city now! And that language simply doesn't connect with what I'm experiencing. In fact, sometimes it makes me resent what I'm experiencing, which is exactly NOT what prayer is supposed to do. It's supposed to help you connect with your own soul, and to God and to center you spiritually in your reality (among other things). So if I were to stay in the city longer, I would need to find a prayer resource that helps me do that in an urban context, using urban imagery and metaphors to speak of the spiritual experience.

But I'm not frustrated with my life or worried about getting stuck in an unfulfilling rut, because instead, I'm leaving in two weeks!

A year in review

Agape. Oregon, Lent and Easter, Seder, vegan. College retreats/work groups, NY peace march, discernment. Gardening. Freedom Farm, Minnesota, Epworth & Ulster County. Discernment. NYC, Maine, Kroka Expeditions, Brattleboro, Francis Day at Agape, Carrie Newcomer. Creatively Maladjusted young adult retreat. Relocation to Boston. Friendships. Advent evening at Agape. Job searching, housing searching, church searching - and finding. Nannying, commuting, socializing, applying, discerning. Deciding.

That's a lot of life changes for one year! I feel like I've really grown a lot over the last 12 months into who I am and where I'm going. I still have a lot to learn as I figure out how to live as an adult, but I sure know myself better!