Contemplative Haven

For a friend, a hard-working faith-filled loving husband and father of young children, travelling that often lonely path of a world-weary mystic.   

Solitude, says the moon shell.  Center-down, say the Quaker saints.  To the possession of the self the way is inward, says Plotinus.  The cell of self-knowledge is the stall in which the pilgrim must be reborn, says St. Catherine of Siena.  Voices from the past.  In fact, these are pursuits and virtues of the past.  But done in another way today because done consciously, aware, with eyes open.  Not done as before, as part of the pattern of the time.  Not done because everyone else is doing them; almost no one is doing them.  Revolutionary, in fact, because almost every trend and pressure, every voice from the outside is against this new way of inward living.

[Anne Morrow Lindbergh:  Gift from the Sea, pgs. 56-57]

Sometimes just being there is enough
When words would be an encumbrance upon sacred silence
That lends itself so well to contemplation.

Sometimes just being there is enough
Presenting oneself, body, mind and spirit
In an act of trust
When Love pours itself out of a ruby-rimmed cup
And all of me fills with longing.

[Taken from:
The Blueness Above, by Ann Murray]

Please visit Ann at her Poetry, Prayer, and Praise blog for some excellent news.

Direct to YouTube for this video is HERE.

[Edited to add:  The creator of this video, Bob Carlton, posted it on his blog about a year ago, with the lyrics by Paul Simon.  You can see the lyrics here.  Bob Carlton's YouTube Channel is here, and he has made some really lovely videos for reflections on special liturgical days/seasons].

I fell asleep last night in conversation with Mary; conversation – well, mostly questions.  I awoke to no answers, until she led me here.

So, for a little while, I don’t know for how long, I will be away at my retreat centres:  here, here, and here – the Divine Architect thought of everything, including an interconnecting corridor.

It is difficult when the outside is hard pressed by the trouble in the world to keep the inside serene, but it is only difficult when you think that you can make it serene. The serenity will be given you; that is the benediction and the reward for those who sought and knocked and found.

If you could for one hour be with your divine self – that is, your outer you and your inner you together in the presence of God – you would change the whole mood of our generation, so powerful is this light.

{Excerpts from:  Letters of the Scattered Brotherhood, Anonymous.  Edited by Mary Strong, 1948.}

 I am reminded once again, by prayer requests in my inbox, of the incredibly difficult and often painful lives of our elderly; also, of the enormous amount of strength and dedication required of their caregivers.

And once again, I am profoundly moved by the powerful life, spirituality and writing of Servant of God Catherine Doherty, who, in her book, “Molchanie.  Experiencing the Silence of God”, gives us a whole chapter entitled, The Silence of Old Age.

Catherine speaks of her own experience of aging in this chapter, and I would like to share just a few passages with you here:

• “Somehow it never occurs to us that tomorrow or the day after, our steps will falter, that we will be too weak to do what we would like.  And yet, I think this ‘unfreedom’ of old age is also an entry into the silence of God.”

• “…the silence of old age, with its accompanying lack of exterior freedom.  My own heart must learn to accept this lack of freedom….This is good, because now I enter a new depth of silence, and the very essence of poverty, for which I have so longed.  Now I am exceedingly free.”

• “The earth is becoming a narrow sliver, of no more importance.  Heaven is opening before me.  This is the goal I always wanted to attain.  No wonder earthly landscapes pass out of view. God has given me a new key to the landscape of his heart, and nobody can stop me from entering it.”

A new key, a new landscape, a deeper poverty, silence and union.  Let us pray for our elderly, for their caregivers and for ourselves.  No matter whether we are young or old, able to move or not, speak or not, swallow or not, let us pray that we will enter the landscape of God’s heart, and be as Catherine Doherty - although “bound” exteriorly as she advanced in age, able to shout with joy, “I am lost in the tenderness of God.”