it’s 3:23 in the morning
and I’m awake
because my great great grandchildren
won’t let me sleep
my great great grandchildren
ask me in dreams
what did you do while the planet was plundered?

what did you do when the earth was unraveling?

surely you did something
when the seasons started failing?

as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying?

did you fill the streets with protest
when democracy was stolen?

what did you do
once
you
knew?...

---by Drew Dellinger (spoken poet)

Silence

Silence, as all writers know, allows the word to be heard.

 At a given moment, the silence is so strong that the words express nothing but it alone.

Does this silence, capable of making language tilt over, possess its own language to which one can attribute neither origin nor name?

Inaudible language of the secret?

Those who have been reduced to silence, once, know it best, but know also that they can hear it.

~Edmund Jabès (French poet (1912-1991)

Slow Down. Quiet. It's Advent!

Some years ago, a friend gave me this Advent poster that has been taped on the inside of my pantry door ever since then. Every Advent, I look at it again, even though the suggestions could be used daily!

AND this year I finally ordered some of these from Forward Movement. If you want one, it is entitled "2014 Slow Down. Quiet. It's Advent." The cost is $12 for 25 copies.

Sorry I am so late with this thought--or at least in sharing it.

Below you'll see what suggestions are given for the first three days of Advent.


And here's how it looks:

Friday Five: Surprising Finds

Only afterwards, do we realize that we have “found” something that we like–like a new way to look at something; a new (to me) author; a new song or hymn; a new food. Today share with us something that you like that seemed surprisingly “new” to you sometime in the near past. It could even be a RE-discovery.

Here is a list, but you can choose your own five items you would like to share! Please join us today in playing FF.

1. author: A new author for me is Nina Schuyler who wrote The Translator. I found this at The King's English book store in Salt Lake City on my last visit with daughter MJ. I find the best books at independent book stores! This is beautifully written, though a little slow to begin with. It wrestles with the translator being the "author" or "interpreter" of a work being translated. A friend is reading The Painting by the same author, which is available on Kindle but out of print. Like The Translator, this book takes place in Japan.

2. shampoo:  Oribe Shampoo for Magnificent Volume: When I had thinning hair due to the medications I was taking for RA three years ago, I found a thickening shampoo that I continue to use. It is expensive (approximately $30 on Amazon) but lasts almost a year. (My hair doesn't have "magnificent volume," but it is usually fluffier.)

3.TV: Husband Chuck and I are enjoying streaming British television shows at night to watch together. The latest one we like is MI-5 (or Spooks), which has 86 episodes! This one will last a long time. Others we have liked are Doc Martin and Foyles War.

4.book re-discovery: Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin has been sitting in a pile of books to read for several years. I finally started it, which seemed intimidating with the weight and thickness of the book--900 pages. There are 26 chapters and I am committed to reading one chapter a day. Abraham Lincoln has been a hero of mine since second grade when I read a biography of him. I am enjoying the reading and learning about him and his four political rivals as they grew into manhood (only as far as I've gotten in three chapters) and beyond as opponents and eventually allies. The movie "Lincoln" was based upon this book. It is worth reading if you haven't already read it.

5. food: Silly, though it is, we've rediscovered Lance crackers Whole Grain cracker sandwiches with real Sharp Cheddar Cheese. It's a quickie "meal" or snack of 200 calories, even though it is a little salty. Both Chuck and I will share a package of six--having just three each for 100 calories.

Books and Trips

Since the Summer Conference at Oblate with Robert L. Moore as the main speaker, I have been reading books related to Jung. My interest was ignited by the various speakers, and I see that the spiritual journey coincides with the psychological journey to wholeness.

Briefly, I will tell you what I am reading and have read:

The book that surprised me by its synchronicity with the talks I heard at Oblate was a book I brought with me with the strange title of The Great Work of Your Life: A Guide for the Journey to Your True Calling by Stephen Cope. I had bought it long ago because a friend had recommended it to me, but the title turned me off. Still to counteract that, I loved the story of how her daughter-in-law was at a yoga retreat in the NE and asked at their bookstore for a recommendation for her mother-in-law that she described as a "Christian Mystic." This is that book! It is based on the Bhagavad Gita, with descriptions of famous people living out the true life of following dharma--Jane Goodall, Susan B. Anthony, John Keats, and Harriet Tubman.

Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life: How to Finally, Really Grow Up by James Hollis

What Matters Most: Living a More Considered Life by James Hollis

Those were easily downloaded on my Kindle and so I started reading the first one while I was still in San Antonio. (This was after a Jungian analyst I met from Houston recommended James Hollis' books).

And I got the cd set for "Through the Dark Wood: Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life" by James Hollis, which I will listen to as I drive to Austin tomorrow.

Chuck and I are driving separate cars to drive there to help our son and his wife and two little girls get ready to move into their new house. Chuck will probably stay longer than I will, because he'll be painting walls. It will be fun to see Avery and Emma (and their mommy and daddy)! And we are so lucky that we have dependable people to take care of our dogs, cat, and house.

When I get back, I will try to write about what I've been reading and also finish telling you about our vacation!

Oblate Summer Institute 2014

I have been attending the Oblate Summer Institute since 2001, when it was a much smaller event. Since Father Ronald Rolheiser became President of Oblate School of Theology, he has fostered many more programs for spiritual development, including the expansion of this Summer Institute.

This year's Summer Institute is featuring Dr. Robert Moore, Jungian analyst, professor, and author. On Monday-Wednesday, he will speak about:

June 16th:

The Flood: Facing the Growing Global Epidemic of Grandiosity

 

June 17th:

Understanding Our Need for a Psycho-Spiritual Ark

 

June 18th:

The Real Ark: Building the Fellowship of the Golden Dragon

I will be attending with other friends from Corpus Christi. I am looking forward to hearing the author of Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosity (which only costs $7.99 on the Kindle).

Grand Canyon: South Rim

When Chuck and I traveled to our new home in Virginia in 1972, we stopped to see the Grand Canyon. However, for the 20 hours that we were there, it was filled with fog, which is probably normal in late winter months. So 40+ years later, we decided to see it again (and really for the first time).

Driving from Albuquerque, we reached the South Rim of the Grand Canyon in the early afternoon and spent daylight hours there. It was beautiful, even though the view was hazy with smoke from major forest fires south of there.

Our first stop was the viewpoint where the 70-ft. high Watchtower is situated.

We ooh-ad and ahh-ed at the beautiful views and took some pictures. Then, I decided I wanted to climb the tower, while Chuck said he would wait for me below. That must have taken at least 30 minutes, because I had to look and take pictures at every window!

The first level of windows has a round room with paintings of Indians on the walls. These are in the Hopi Room which presents paintings by Hopi artist Fred Kabotie, who took the room's theme from the Hopi Snake Dance.

Viewpoint from the Watchtower

 The walkways up are narrow, with people trying to both ascend and descend. It got tight with me trying to make myself smaller than I am for people passing by! A few parts seemed very steep to me, so I was glad that Chuck had not attempted the climb.

The magnificence of the rock formations overwhelmed us, just as they have for centuries. It is hard to imagine early people seeing this, exploring and trying to find their ways with all these canyons and cliffs.  The tribes who have lived here are many, including the Haulapi, Navajo, Hopi, Zuni, Paiute, and Havasupai. Go here for information about them.

Due to the smoky conditions, we decided not to stay late or to come back early in the morning before we drove off to Las Vegas.

Acoma Pueblo, New Mexico

I loved visiting the Acoma Pueblo so much with my friend Nancy almost ten years ago that I wanted Chuck to see it, too. He patiently took me there, which goes against his nature for back-tracking on any trip: We had to drive 55 miles west of Albuquerque (that night's destination) to go to Acoma before checking in to our hotel (and then drive back to Albuquerque).

View of Acoma Pueblo with Sky City Visitor's Center below

One must purchase a ticket to visit Acoma Pueblo and access to it is only allowed via their mini-buses. Dark clouds were approaching, and we were glad that we wore our windbreakers and brought an umbrella because rain started after our arrival on top.

From Wikipedia:
"The Pueblo lies on a 365-foot mesa, about 60 miles west of Albuquerque, New Mexico. The isolation and location of the Pueblo has sheltered the community for more than 1,200 years, which sought to avoid conflict with neighboring Navajos and Apaches.


"Today, about 300 two- and three-story adobe buildings reside on the mesa, with exterior ladders used to access the upper levels where residents live. Access to the mesa is by a road blasted into the rock face during the 1950s. Approximately 30 or so people live permanently on the mesa, with the population increasing on the weekends as family members come to visit and tourists, some 55,000 annually, visit for the day."

It is a little disappointing to find homes that do not appear to be old still standing there, but the designs are similar to the originals. During the tourist season, more people live there, because tables with Acoma pottery are out for sale with the artists' and their families selling them.  

I found it very interesting that the houses are passed on through mothers and daughters, on and on. That is also how people know which family they belong to--through their mothers.

Only living tree on Acoma Pueblo

We were lucky to arrive at the church, where no picture-taking is allowed with its cemetery in front, before the downpour began.

When the rain had lessened, most of the people went back to the bus. About five ladies, including me, went back to some tables with a guide because we wanted to buy some pottery. I went all out, mostly because this was my second trip there, and bought a large pot from Terrance Chino, Sr. He made the other pots pictured, and the one I got is in the front.

Pots by Terrance M. Chino, Sr.

While it rained, I wrote him a check and we arranged for him to mail it to me. A week had passed after our return home, and it had not come. Last Friday I was surprised by a phone call from Terrance Chino, himself; asking me if the pot had arrived. In fact, it was delivered that very afternoon! I was surprised at how well he had wrapped it--triple wrapped in bubble wrap, taped together, and in two boxes with styrofoam pellets for protection. Plus, I was astounded at how it was more beautiful (and bigger!) than I had remembered. Amazingly, the artist enclosed a piece of notebook paper, with the different symbols drawn and described. I am thrilled with this personal connection with the artist.

 Poor Chuck had a stressful drive back to Albuquerque, because the thunderstorm accompanied us along the way.

Still, we were/are both glad that we visited Acoma (Sky City) Pueblo on May 23, 2014.

Las Cruces, New Mexico

On our trip, we followed Marfa and Fort Davis, TX with a stop in Las Cruces, NM to meet Sherry, a long time blogging friend.

Before meeting them at their new home, we walked around old Mesilla, NM, which began around 1848 and was the location for Billie the Kid's trial. It was fun to look in little shops and walk around the plaza. I took some pictures of doorways, reminding me of my friend Nancy doing this when we came to NM to celebrate our 55th birthdays.

It was fun to find a little bookstore packed with books, where I had to purchase a book, of course. I decided that I would purchase a book at every independent bookstore we visited. This time I found one that I probably would never have found anywhere else, entitled The Anthropology of Turquoise: Reflections on Desert, Sea, Stone, and Sky by Ellen Maloy, who is an artist/naturalist. Her essays on nature, beauty and color from her travels around the southwest are lovely.

Mesilla Bookstore

I loved the store's decorations and its unique ceiling.

Further along our walk, I found a small church store, the Basilica of San Albino Gift Shop, where I found a unique nativity scene, which remains in the box they put it in when I purchased it. We took pictures of its entryway with the statue of Mary.

If you go to the link for the gift shop, you will see pictures of some of the items they sell, which range from the usual Roman Catholic gift shop products to works of local artists. Quite lovely.

Chuck took a picture of me there, which shows a nice smile but also the bulges that I have gained in the past months, especially on this most recent trip.








Then we had a nice visit with our new friends, followed by dinner they treated us with at a Mexican restaurant. They also took a really nice picture of Chuck and me.

Chuck and Jan

What a good beginning to our vacation!

Fort Davis and Marfa, TX

The first two nights of our trip were spent in Fort Davis, TX. There is a triangle in southwest TX (only two hours from El Paso) of Fort Davis, Alpine, and Marfa. Ever since moving here, I have heard friends talk about that area, especially about the Marfa Lights.

The Veranda Inn, Fort Davis, TX

Our room

We stayed at a nice bed and breakfast inn called The Veranda, found through Trip Advisor, which we have come to trust as we travel. Through the recommendations from the owner of The Veranda, we spent one morning at the Chihuahuan Desert Nature Center.

It was a beautiful place to visit and would be a good place to go on hikes. We spent most of our time in the large greenhouse for cacti, third largest in the nation. So many different varieties of cacti in close proximity!

Jan in cacti greenhouse

 I am not very proficient at positioning pictures, but here are a few I took. Unfortunately, I did not write down the names of the cacti. But these images may give you a small idea of the different varieties growing there.

The morning we went there, we also drove to Marfa for lunch at The Food Shark and then drove up to the McDonald Observatory. We drove around the Fort Davis, Alpine, and Marfa and on roads around there in the Davis Mountains.

Food Shark Marfa, TX

The Art of Losing: Maundy Thursday

As I googled "stripping the altars" for Maundy Thursday, I came up with a link to a good article "Stripped Bare: Holy Week and the Art of Losing" in the May 16, 2012 issue of Christian Century. It was so good that I posted it on FB, which seems to be looked upon more frequently than this blog. I hope you'll read it.

The author of that article, Richard Lischer, pointed to a poem by Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979), a new poet for me.

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

Lent Madness: Basil about "Prayer"

This Lent, I am subscribing to daily emails from Lent Madness, in which 32 saints are place in competition to determine which one gets the “golden halo” at the end of Lent. Each day, two are offered with their biographies and votes are taken. Now we are down to 16 “winners” to vote for each day. (Surprisingly, yesterday John Wesley was defeated by his brother Charles!)

Today the vote is between Basil the Great and Antony of Egypt. I really liked a few quotes of Basil about prayer, which I am posting below:

How to Pray

"Prayer is a request for what is good, offered by the devout of God. But we do not restrict this request simply to what is stated in words. We should not express our prayer merely in syllables, but also through the attitude of our soul and in the virtuous actions we do in our life. This is how you pray continually — not by offering prayer in words, but by joining yourself to God through your whole way of life, so that your life becomes one continuous and uninterrupted prayer."

Praying Daily

"When you sit down to eat, pray. When you eat bread, do so thanking God for being so generous to you. If you drink wine (or coffee), be mindful of God who has given it to you for your pleasure and as a relief in sickness. When you dress, thank God for His kindness in providing you with clothes. When you look at the sky and the beauty of the stars, throw yourself at God’s feet and adore Him who ordered things this way. When the sun goes down and when it rises, when you are asleep or awake, give thanks to God, who created and arranged all things for your benefit, to have you know, love and praise their Creator."

This was also posted for "Thursday Prayer" at RevGalBlogPals.

My Cousin Margaret is Visiting!

My mother's cousin Margaret arrived in Houston two days ago, where I met her on a dark and rainy night. I was thankful that our car has GPS, because I am not familiar in driving around Houston. Got there, but I ended up being in the wrong terminal when she arrived! We only learned this when she called me after her luggage arrived.

When I finally made it to the airport, I followed the signs for the terminal where Air Canada landed. When Margaret called me, she said she was at baggage carrousel #4, which I circled, only to find she wasn't there! That's when I realized that I had gone to the "wrong" terminal, but Margaret didn't know which one she was at.

Going back to my parked car in Terminal A, I finally learned that she was at Terminal C (for United). After paying and driving around, I finally found her standing outside Terminal C. Yay! And with it still raining, the GPS directed us to the hotel.

Then on Sunday we visited both the Houston Holocaust Museum and the Houston Museum of Fine Arts, where we saw the traveling exhibit The Age of Impressionism: Great French Paintings from the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute. It was a very full day.


Today we drove back to Corpus Christi from Houston, which takes about four hours. Chuck, the three dogs and one cat eagerly met Margaret.

I took the picture to the right at The Rainbow Lodge, a Houston restaurant, where we went for brunch before visiting the museums.

It warms my heart to see Margaret, because she shows me glimpses of my mother (also named "Margaret") who died in 1992. This Margaret is 83, but my mother only lived to be 72. I especially see the resemblances between them around the eyes and smile.

2014 Books: "Zealot"

I am definitely a reader, but also a procrastinator: So far in this third month of 2014, I have only listed one book I have read this year even though I have read many. I will try to write about some of these books in the coming weeks. This won't be in consecutive order though!

Today I feel triumphant for finishing the book, Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth by Reza Aslan. Daughters AE and KA in Seattle sent it to me as a surprise some months ago, whenever there was all that hoopla about FOX News inadequately interviewing author Reza Aslan.

I put off reading it because I'd already spent years reading about the historical Jesus, both at Oblate
School of Theology and on my own. However, with our priest liking it and so many members of the Wisdom Class wanting to read it, I read it and am glad I did.

It is very historical, with lots of documentation. In fact, the author has 50 pages of expanded notes at the back of the book (219-272).  All that impresses me; I have always liked to read notes, especially extensive ones like these. Aslan sets the stage very well for the reader to imagine what the politics and culture were like in the time of Jesus and afterwards. This is important for people to read.

I found it especially interesting how he draws comparisons to Paul's view of Jesus and the experiences of those in Jerusalem who knew him in his life at the end of the book. I learned more than I ever knew before about "James the Just," the brother of Jesus, who was called "Bishop of Bishops" in Jerusalem before the decimation of Jerusalem and the Temple in 70 c.e.

Zealot is an interesting book to read, one that will create questions that may be old or new to each reader. As a review by Dale B. Martin in the NY Times reveals:

"A real strength of the book is that it provides an introduction to first-century Palestine, including economics, politics and religion. Mr. Aslan uses previous scholarship to describe the precarious existence of Jewish peasants and the lower classes, and how the Romans and the Jewish upper class exploited the land and the people. He explains not just the religious but also the economic significance of the Temple, and therefore the power of the priestly class controlling it. 

“Zealot” shares some of the best traits of popular writing on scholarly subjects: it moves at a good pace; it explains complicated issues as simply as possible; it even provides notes for checking its claims. 

"But the book also suffers from common problems in popularization, like proposing outdated and simplistic theories for phenomena now seen as more complex."

(Go here to read the entire review.) 

I am glad I read it; I learned some new things; I want to investigate some aspects mentioned.  This will be a good book for our weekly book study group, the Wisdom Class, because it will prompt a lot of questions and discussion. It will be slower reading than usual, since it is more of a scholarly book, but they successfully read The Case for God by Karen Armstrong a few years ago.

Zealot is a good book to read for historical information of the area and times of Jesus; it is one that will prompt more questions, discussion and research.

Anthony Bloom on Prayer

Looking through those composition books I wrote in for years at Lebh Shomea, I see quotes from various books by the same author. I recall that I would go on a pursuit of more books when I liked what a certain author was saying. That was the blessing for me that Lebh Shomea had (and has) such an extensive library. I remember reading books by Anthony Bloom when our oldest son was in his first years at Texas A & M around 1997.

Anthony Bloom or Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh (1914-2003)  was a monk and Metropolitan bishop of the Russian Orthodox Church. He was founder and for many years bishop - then archbishop, then metropolitan - of the Diocese of Sourozh, the Patriarchate of Moscow's diocese for Great Britain and Ireland (the name 'Sourozh' is that of the historical episcopal see in Sudak in the Crimea). As a bishop he became well known as a pastor, preacher, spiritual director and writer on prayer and the Christian life. (from Wikipedia)

Today I will copy a few of the quotes I kept from that long-ago reading of Living Prayer by Anthony Bloom:

"We should never try to squeeze out of the heart any sort of feeling when we come to God; a prayer is a statement, the rest depends on God." (60)

quoting Theophane the Recluse:

". . . ask yourself: 'Am I doing God's will better than I did before?' If you are, prayer has brought its fruits; if you are not, it has not, whatever amount of understanding or feeling you may have derived from the time spent in the presence of God." (62, 63)

"Whatever we have felt belongs to the past and is linked with what we were yesterday, not what we are today. We do not pray in order to provoke any particular experience in which we may delight, but in order to meet God with whatever may happen as a consequence, or to bring him what we have to bring and leave it to him to use it the way he chooses." (104)

"Our prayer always reaches God but it is not always answered by a sense of joy or peace." (108)

". . . .a silence in which, as Julian of Norwich puts it, 'Prayer oneth the soul to God.'" (111)

Friday Five: Favorites

Just getting back from four days of silence, I am suddenly thrust back into the world. Wrestling with choices and seeing elderly decline in others, I am flummoxed about a Friday Five–so think of a favorite off the top of your head for:

1. food--salmon! Being from the Pacific Northwest, I love salmon. My husband Chuck grills the best salmon in the world--much better than in restaurants in WA, OR, and here in TX! He wraps it in aluminum foil, first spreading melted butter, lemon juice and dill weed on it. Yummy!

2. drink--I like HOT tea when it's cold, so here in south TX, that's only in the winter. Visiting colder climates, it is wonderful to drink hot tea. Last year I discovered Harney and Sons Tea Blenders and really like their special Hot Cinnamon Spice Tea when it is cold.

3. animal--Dogs! Although cats seem to like me more than I like them. Visiting a friend today, her cat kept kneading my arm and purring--leaving scratch marks under my sweater!

4. color--Green! We have three rooms in our house painted green, one wallpapered with green leaves, and green carpet in four rooms!

5. time of day--Cool, quiet mornings, especially when no one else is awake.

Bonus: Any favorite you haven’t mentioned above that you want to bring up!

Writing and receiving letters, cards, and/or postcards--snail mail!! And I just received a nice note from former blogger Catherine.

Helping Friends

After my last post, a blogging friend and other friends have reached out to me to give me support and encouragement. Today I found these words from Diane Walker, both on her Facebook page and on her blog Contemplative Photography:

Back in the days when we lived in Vermont, there were lots of jokes about taciturn Vermonters interacting with that most dreaded of species, the New Yorker.  And the punch line for one particularly amusing one I remember, uttered by an old Vermont farmer in that lovely accent they put on for strangers, was "you can't get theah from heah."

... which was what I heard when I looked at this photo: I mean, the gateway and path issue a lovely invitation, and there's a pretty cottage off in the distance, but the truth is -- you can't get there from here. There's actually a very deep body of water between here and there, not to mention a field thick with dune grass and a broken-down boardwalk through a marsh.

... which reminds me a bit of the spiritual journey: there have been, in my lifetime, any number of appealing and inviting paths I've pursued, only to find myself blocked at some unexpected point -- and frequently having to retrace my steps.

... which is, perhaps, the universe's way of reminding me -- as it says in Logion 3 of the Gospel of Thomas -- that the goal, the end point of this journey is not somewhere else: it's really right here. "Divine Reality exists inside and all around you," says Yeshua. "Only when you have come to know your true Self will you be fully known-- realizing at last that you are a child of the Living One."


By Diane Walker


Thank you, Diane!

Friday Five: Spring??

3DogMom brings today's Friday Five to RevGalBlogPals:

Here in Nashville the annual Antiques and Garden Show is getting underway.  The temperatures are more cold and windy than is typical, and the garden displays with colorful spring blooms are going to be tonic for many of the souls that visit the show this weekend. Punxsutawney Phil may have predicted another six weeks of winter when he saw his shadow, but spring is on the minds of many!

With that in mind,

1) What do you anticipate with the coming of spring?
This has been an unusual winter in south TX, with cold fronts actually bringing us COLD weather! We keep dipping into the 30's and 40's for high temperatures, which has not been the norm for years. Knowing that this will not last much longer, we know spring (and shortly after, SUMMER) will arrive soon.

I am hoping for some of our usual winter, but spring-like, weather to return. This is when it is reminiscent of Pacific Northwest summers. High and low temperatures of the 70's and 50-60's are so pleasant.  I am hoping some of those days will get here before the heat and humidity return.


2) Is there anything you will miss about winter?
I will miss drinking HOT tea. I never learned to like coffee and so have long been a hot tea aficionado.I especially like Harney and Sons Hot Cinnamon Spice Tea, which may also be bought through Amazon, as my daughter-in-law KA did for Christmas.

Cousin Margaret in Calgary

Somehow hot tea is not as inviting when it is extremely hot outside. And I don't really like iced tea.

3) Is there an occasion on the horizon to which you’re looking forward?
At the end of March my cousin Margaret from Calgary, her daughter Kathy and two grandchildren will be coming to visit. It is exciting to think that the children will meet my granddaughters, Emma and Avery, as they are about the same age!

4) Do you have a favorite spring memory?
Memories of Easter egg hunts with my children.
Births of AE in March 1982 and BJ in April 1985.

5) Do you have a favorite spring flower/bloom, and if so, what makes it special to you?
I love daffodils. When we lived in RI and NJ, it was wonderful to see crocus and daffodils coming up while it was still cold. Daffodils do not grow in TX, so I have enjoyed the springs when I have seen them elsewhere, especially in WA State.

My Seattle daughter AE sent me a picture of a daffodil in 2009, so I posted it with a poem here.

20 Different Ways to Be in Silence

This was totally written by Samuel Gentoku McCree and lifted from Tiny Buddha. I was so impressed with it, I had to post it here. I need these reminders today as I easily slip into "Panic or cinnamon"! (Excitedly getting ready for all my children to start arriving tomorrow.)

“Silence is a source of great strength.” ~Lao Tzu

For over two years I spent one out of every four weeks in silence. At the time I was living at a Zen Monastery and every month we would have a week-long silent retreat.

During this retreat we sat meditation in silence, ate in silence, worked in silence, and only communicated through hand gestures and written notes.

At first living like this was hard, but over time I learned to grow to appreciate silence. By the time I left I learned that silence was my friend and teacher.
What did silence teach me?

1. Satisfaction

I used to think I needed to watch TV every night. But at monastery I went without and discovered I didn’t need it.

Silence taught me to be happy with less. Pick something that’s weighing you down and let it go. Your life will thank you.

2. Expression

When you can only talk by writing a note, you only say what’s important. Before the monastery I talked a lot but said little.

Silence taught me that a few simple words well spoken have more power than hours of chatter. Think of one simple thing you can say that would help someone feel better and say it.

3. Appreciation

Being able to speak makes life easy, but when I couldn’t talk I learned how much I relied on others.

Silence taught me to appreciate the value of relating to others. The next time you see your friends or family, try to really listen. Deep listening expresses deep appreciation.

4. Attention

Several times at my first retreat I thought my phone was vibrating. But then I would remember I didn’t have my phone. It showed me how my phone divided my attention.

Silence taught me how important it is to let go of distractions. The next time you are with someone you care about, try turning off your phone and putting it away. It will make paying attention easier.

5. Thoughts

I once sat a retreat next door to a construction project. What amazed me was how easily my thoughts drowned out the noise. I realized if my thoughts were this loud, I’d better make them as wise as possible.

Silence taught me the importance of shaping my thinking. Take time each day to notice your thoughts and let go of thoughts that don’t serve you.

6. Nature

Because I sat retreat in every season, I know that the sound of wind in fall is different than it is in winter.

Silence taught me to notice nature. Take a short walk outside in silence and you’ll discover the wisdom and peace that nature has to offer.

7. Body

During retreat I noticed that whenever I got lost in thought, I lost track of my body. And when I focused on my body, my thoughts would calm down.

Silence taught me to be in my body. Close your eyes and ask, “What sensations do I feel in my hand?” Learning to feel your body can calm your troubled mind.

8. Overstimulation

Whenever I went into town after retreat, the world seemed so loud and fast. I came to realize how much our senses have to process most of the time.

Silence taught me the importance of reducing the stimulation. Enjoy some quiet time everyday. The less you see and hear, the more settled your mind can become.

9. Sound

People would come to the monastery and remark how quiet it was. But living at the monastery I knew all the noises, from frogs, to owls, to the sound of sandals on the sidewalk.

Silence taught me that the world is a rich texture of sounds. Sit in front of your house and close your eyes. You’ll be amazed at what you hear if you listen long enough.

10. Humanity

During retreat I was surrounded by imperfect people who were doing their best. Some were happy, some were sad, but all were wonderfully human.

Silence taught me that people display great beauty. Find a good spot to people watch with an open heart. What you see may inspire you.

11. Space

For a long time anytime something difficult came up, I would just distract myself. But retreat taught me that if I avoided something it would never go away.

Silence taught me that space helps me face hard times. The next time you face something difficult, pause and honor whatever’s arising.

12. Love

I used to think love was this big thing. But in retreat I found that I felt love for so many things.

Silence taught me that love can be simple. Think of someone you haven’t said I love you to recently and tell them.

13. Courage

I used to think courage was about facing danger, but during retreat I realized that real courage is about facing yourself.

Silence taught me the courage it takes to be still. When we stop moving everything we’re running from catches up. The next time you are afraid, stop and wait for it to pass. There is immense courage inside your heart.

14. Perseverance

Every retreat reminded me that speaking is easy, but staying quiet is hard.

Silence isn’t flashy, but it has an immense power to endure. The next time someone doubts you, instead of disagreeing, silently vow not to give up. Action is speaks volumes.

15. Faith

I often ask for reassurance or feedback. But living is silence meant I had to trust my instincts.

Silence taught me to have faith in myself. The next time you begin to feel anxious, sit in silence and see if you can find the space of deep faith that lives in your heart.

16. Honesty

I used to lie so I wouldn’t have to explain myself. But when I couldn’t talk I began to notice this impulse and how much it degraded my integrity.

Silence taught me the importance of telling the truth. Notice times where you tell little lies and try telling the truth instead. It isn’t always easy but it’s the first step to trusting ourselves and others. 

17. Gratitude

During retreat I didn’t have a lot of comforts. It helped me see how much I took for granted and how much I had to be grateful for.

At the end of every day sit in silence and ask yourself what am I grateful for. You’ll be amazed at the blessings you discover.

18. Simplicity

I used to love drama and conflict. But at retreat I found I was happier when I kept it simple.

Silence taught me that simplicity and joy are close companions. Pick one space in your home you could simplify. Keep it simple for one month and enjoy the ease it offers your life.

19. Connection

I used to think I had to talk in order to feel connected. I realized during retreat that I can feel connected just by being near people I care about.

Silence taught me that words can get in the way. Do something in silence with someone you love. It will be awkward at first but eventually you will see what it means just to be in someone presence.

20. Truth

I studied philosophy in college and I thought I could read about truth. But retreat taught me that truth is found in silence.

Silence has taught me a deeper truth than words ever could. Sit in silence once a week and feel the truth in your heart. It’s there whether you can express it in words or not.

As a woman, did you ever wonder?

By using Zite on my iPhone, I found the formula for a woman's BMR (Basal Metabolic Rate). It was startling to find out the rather low number of calories (1300+) I could eat to maintain my weight--if I sat around all the time. Still, it gave me a baseline idea of the number calories for a non-active day.

"The National Institutes of Health reports that the best way to lose weight is by taking in fewer calories than you use. That does not mean you shouldn’t watch what you eat. In fact, by not limiting your calorie intake to a number formulated to suit your age, height, activity level and gender, you could sabotage your chances of getting to an appropriate weight.

"Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR)
The Basal Metabolic Rate, or BMR, which is sometimes interchangeable with your resting metabolic rate, is a calculation of the number of calories you burn when using the least amount of energy, such as when you’re asleep. By determining how many calories your body uses when doing nothing, you can establish how many calories you need to take in each day to maintain — not lose — your current weight."

How To Calculating Your BMR:
To calculate your BMR use this formula, which is specifically tailored for women:
655 + ( 4.35 x weight in pounds ) + ( 4.7 x height in inches ) – ( 4.7 x age in years ) = BMR

From here.