Someone asked me once whether I searched for concrete knowledge of God. My response was that I preferred the experience of Mystery. Enticing, both subtle and flamboyant—in tolerable proportion, and always just that far away…until becoming part of its fullness. And, somehow, I don’t think we need to die to become enfolded in its expanse—we…
Tag: grace
Until Quiet: A Poem
Until Quiet With you at the tip of my pen, I wroteuntil words found their branches, tucked infeathers, and nesting lightly, breathed inthe incense of lilac and pine,rose, earth, and cedar; until stillness,revealing its canopy, drew me intoall of its dimensions, offered meits hand to enter the depths of its colour-stained span of mystery; until…
Sacrament of Being
Sacrament of Being While out among,quite nearly within,the tidal chords of an ocean’s evening andthe cloud swept memory of a day,I praise the sacrament of being.Praise, which feels like an earthy assentnodded toward the horizon witharms wide-stretched and head tilted back;Sacrament, a gift of convergencewhere humanity and divinitycome together as grace;Being, wholeness, wrapped in this…
Down and Within
After the Wednesday evening contemplative service at Saint Andrew’s this week… Instead of going up to the balcony, today I went down. I started on the chair but it didn’t feel right. Too…what? Perch-y. To ‘on’ and not ‘within’ the space of the sanctuary. It was like I needed to touch down. To ground myself…
Wednesday Peace
Ms. Tippett: In 2006, I sat across from [Elie Wiesel] in a hotel room that my producers had turned into a makeshift studio and I asked him to tell me what happened after he lost his faith forever, as he wrote, at Auschwitz. He answered: “What happened afterwards is in the book. I went on praying.” Ms….
Orion, Cassiopeia, Polaris
I went to the midweek contemplative service at Saint Andrew’s United Church of Canada last night. One of the many reasons I love going to this is the quiet opening I can feel inside of me…the combination of a grounding and a freeing that has me pick up a pen and paper with a certain…
A Bowl of Incense and a Spoon: A Poem
A Bowl of Incense and a Spoon With the good knife rescuedfrom a thrift store pegboard,The soup pot thurible is readyto incense the kitchen chapel.halve the onion, slice from the root,cross cut into a small dice.I settle my senses into thiswelcome ritual of prayer and blessing.Garlic: three cloves or four, depending,mashed into a paste with…
These November Things (poem)
I had a beautiful conversation this morning and at one point my friend said, “These November things…” “Such a good title,” I said. These November Things The grey light beckoning,gently murmuring with sunlight,like a well known blanket rising. Walking the astral mosaic,the orange and the yellow, green, redstars, shining on the footpath heading homeward. The…
A bit indescribable and I like it very much
This is one of those items that appeared before me thanks to a cascade of social media… It was posted by a friend who reposted it from Unvirtuous Abbey who saw it on Twitter where someone had gleaned it from a 2018 book by Deb Dana, The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy. Fair warning, I have…
Three-Fold Blessing
I was surprised by beauty today…such a generous gift, that is… I was in Wolfville, Nova Scotia, for Spiritual Direction and I saw anew a nest I’d noticed first in late January (pic). It’s about half again as big as it seems in the photo and an architectural wonder in and of itself. Today, though…just…
Consider the Lilies 