It’s a pansy, not a rose…ergo the apologies to Gertrude Stein who pointed out that a rose is a rose is a rose… But the “equality of real” was something from a conversation yesterday when noting with a friend that no one thing taken in by the senses is any more ‘real’ than any other…
Tag: Senses
Who Do you Say…
I have answered this question many times in my life…Who do you say that I am? And while there are a few elements in common over the years, I am equally grateful to know that there is no limit…that there remains the impossibility of containing; that more remains than I can possibly hope for or…
Progressive Events
While I have never participated in such a thing, I understand the idea of progressive meals among a group of friends…one house for appetizers, one for the main meal, one for dessert, another for coffee, etc. It’s cumulative in many ways… The meal, for sure, and also the experiences, the number of people, the laughter,…
Both Subtle and Flamboyant
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…
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…
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…
Falling fearless
In Cynthia Bourgeault’s book, Wisdom Way of Knowing, she recounts a last conversation with a dying friend. He asks her, ‘Are you fearless yet?’ and adds ‘Fall fearless in love.’ In theory, I read the rest of the chapters that I was supposed to read for a conversation on a Zoom meeting. In truth, I…
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…
Stained-Glass Verse
There are days when I breathe deepest within the cradle of sensory input…When I need to push against something that already is in order to make space for what I am feeling or thinking. Coffeeshops are often perfect for that…it is indifferent input, asking nothing of me, not requiring response and not interrupting…just a steady…
A Tendency toward Awe
A tendency toward awe. It is something I have known since childhood—and something I shared aloud before I had full grasp of both recording it on a page and how to moderate my offerings. My father regularly enjoyed recalling a family trip from Ohio to North Carolina where, apparently, I chattered nearly non-stop about everything…
Consider the Lilies 