Indigo Hour Indigo hour calls luminous and liminal; Day’s end, thoughts lengthen. Lavender-tulsi (Known too as ‘holy basil’) tea; my senses sigh. House-sounds infusing this contemplative here, now. Such grace is welcome. Kimberly M. King, RSCJ (Thank you to friend, Lisa T. for the phrase, ‘indigo hour.’)
Author: Kimberly M. King
I am a Religious of the Sacred Heart (RSCJ) living in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. I am the director of Barat Spirituality Centre, www.baratspirituality.org, a writer, a juggler, a quick wit, a walker. I enjoy reading all sorts of fiction and non-fiction and regularly write both essays and poetry. Other interests and abilities include Spanish/English written translation and simultaneous interpretation, cooking, and time spent thinking and observing.
Each Braided Bit a Story
Home Such roots as I have are woven into a nest borne with me from place to place. Delicate and fiercely capable, both; It can bear the wild whip-crack of rain until it passes and meanwhile remember the cool sun-filled winds that will come to dry and fresh bless this home that has grown with…
Through the Bend
From the notebook… 13 April, 2018 7:15 AM In the sunroom with hot coffee rightly proportioned and sourdough toast with ricotta and cinnamon—an altogether lovely breakfast. It is especially cozy to be in this particular room on a morning like today. It is pouring and it is blowing—though in such a way that the roof fans have not yet started…
Tis a Gift
Simple joys have always been important to me. The onset of spring is no exception and today was a blue-skied beginning that worked its magic on my spirit. When I dropped someone off at the airport, I could have easily, so easily, kept on driving. It was a day for a road trip, for adventure, cool sun-filled…
Easter Grace, 2018
Easter Grace, 2018 We incline our ear toward you and hear the cries of your people; the ache of your earth, our home; the complex symphony of seasons. We incline our deepest joy toward you and we celebrate relationship; the bubble of laughter that breaks surface; the counter-weight that steadies. We incline our love toward…
On Praying…and Poaching Chicken
“All I was did was flip a potato pancake into the stove, and then I put it back into the pan, and I said: Well, if you’re all alone in the kitchen, nobody will know.” —Julia Child in a 1989 interview for Fresh Air with Terry Gross— Exactly. This is why I often sort out…
Gravity, uncluttered
From my notebook, composed at the Halifax Farmers’ Market this morning, around 7 AM. ~You can feel all kinds of gravity wherever you are everyday in different ways. And often, through human contact, you find your best gravity.~ poet Naomi Shihab Nye While I do not yet know of its surrounding context which could hint…
Tatting with Life and Language
I have written before about why I like carrying a book in my daily bag even if I know I might not get to read it. There is something about the company of a known written work that pleases me. When read in different contexts or at different moments in time, the ideas, the language,…
Grace and Unreliable Narrators
I come from a family of unreliable narrators. —Luis Alberto Urrea I read that in part of a news article caption the other day and was immediately taken by the honest truth of the statement. In some respects, we are all unreliable narrators when laying down or letting out our versions of life lived. How…
Stained with Light
~I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light…~ —Mary Oliver from her book Upstream— I have wrestled… It speaks of a vulnerable opening up and engaging rather than a protective crouching; honesty; courage and the acknowledgment of fear; a staying-put and a willingness to ache. And it calls for a “why.” …
Consider the Lilies 