Peace Prayer for Today

Peace Prayer from El Via Crucis Economico

O God, we ask forgiveness for our failure
to raise our voices as we should.
Holy spirit, anoint us as faithful advocates.
We pray for governments
to represent the demands of ordinary people,
especially those who are silenced
because of poverty or gender.
We pray that the cries of the voiceless may be heard
and that all people will declare that the word of God—
not the “laws” of economics—shall govern humanity.
We pray for the restoration of our broken relationships.
Amen

In The Light

As I looked out on the morning, autumn sunlight was filtering through the trees, touching the water droplets from a fierce early morning rain, and creating a burst of sparkle that played with the focus of what I was looking at. The potted Japanese maple on the deck is loosing its crimson foliage as the light of day slowly decreases. As we move through autumn, and come closer to winter, light and colours are two things that will change dramatically. You want to hibernate and be enfolded in the warmth of places that are safe and protected - where inner warmth and light make up for what this season cannot give us.

There are seasons in our lives when the questions have no answers, when the storms are wild and unrelenting and what grounds us seems threatened, when pain, physical and emotional, comes to steal life from us. At times fatigue is overwhelming and just getting through a day is hard work. Sometimes questions sit within us and while we long for answers, there are none forth coming. In the dark places we need light that opens us up to finding hope.

A number of years ago a friend said to me “I will hold you in the Light” and in the years since she has repeated those words to me. While I have always appreciated it when others have said they have prayed for me, this action of being held in the Light is deeply meaningful. It has moved me from the posture of telling the Almighty what I think should happen to moving into Holy Presence without an agenda - simply to hold another in this sacred place and to know I am held in the place without others deciding what way the Almighty should move in my life. Those words seem to be a warm embrace that puts no requests or conditions on how one should feel, how one should work through the questions, and it removes time limits on the grief or pain process.

John O’Donohue writes in his book Anam Cara that “Light is the secret presence of the Divine”. He also writes that “Light is incredibly generous but also gentle.”

To hold another in the Light you are asking for the secret presence of the Almighty (however the other sees the Divine) to tenderly hold the soul of the one you wait with. This action also requires that I wait in Holy Presence in the sense that I must hold my heart, mind and soul open to the unconditional loving gaze of the Holy One. This is not a place of fear but rather of opening your being in deep honesty in anticipation of that Love that transforms. The American Rabbi, Michael Strassfield says “Light gives itself freely, filling all available space. It does not seek anything in return. It asks not whether you are friend or foe. It gives of itself and is thereby not diminished”.

Creativity releases our soul to speak through movement, words, music, art, through actions that are expressions of beauty, holding emotions and story in this ‘soul voice’. To be held in the Light is also asking the Spirit within you to move your soul, the essence of God’s image within you, to begin to speak in a way only you and the Almighty can write the duet. Being in the Light has one clear message - to bring forth life! O’Donohue also speaks of this when he writes that “creativity awakens at this primal threshold where light and darkness test and bless each other.” Therefore to hold another in the Light is to bring oneself to a place of life, and to simply request life for the other.

Holding another in the Light seems to be a way of acknowledging the Mystery - of not knowing or needing to know. It is a posture of simply allowing Holy Presence to hold you as you wait for/with another. The act of holding your own heart open with its own wounds while you hold up the wounds (often unknown to you) of another. This place seems to be less about movement and more about stillness, of choosing life in the midst of unknowns and chaos.

“May we be content to wait in peace, until You stir the waters within to act. May we be patient with ourselves and with others. O that we may have the light of wisdom, and the steadfastness of faith!”
Psalm 105 - translation by Nan Merrill in Psalms for Praying.

Love Insists....

All along the way, ablaze in mystery and paradox, a larger love waits to set us free...Love insists that everything be set free."
Sacred Threshold pg 142
Paula D'arcy

Morning Prayer

"I don't want to think of a place for you.
Speak to me from everywhere...
When I go toward you
it is with my whole life."

Rainier Maria Rilke

Celebration and Gratitude

Two years ago David and I married on the labyrinth in our garden and then celebrated together with many friends from both our communities. While it was our wedding day, it was much more than that - it was a time of celebrating community, love, God's faithfulness and surprises and blessings. It was the most beautiful sacred day that we will never ever forget. But as we celebrated that two year mark together yesterday I thought of the all of the love that went into this celebration. Of those who had put so much of their heart into this day for us and with us. This celebration came about because of all of that love and heart and for that we are so grateful, and we remember each of them with gratitude. Once again it wasn't about our anniversary but about all that we hold as we celebrate.

To those who made all the fabulous food, created the sacred space and held us in the Light - thank you.
To those of you who let your gift of music envelope us and let us praise - thank you.
To those hands that created the beautiful flowers and let us see the Almighty in beauty - thank you.
Those beautiful chocolate dipped strawberries that awaited us after our vows - thank you for them and for your taking care of the place.
To those who gave honour and sacredness as they lead us in the vows of commitment to each other - thank you.
To each of you who held story in your hearts and walked our roads of healing - thank you.
To family - thank you.
To the ones who prayed and held dreams in the Light - thank you.
To the Great Lover and Life Giver - thank You.

Thank you Almighty One for every detail You prepared and all that we hold within us because of Love.

La Chaim - to Life.

Body Prayer

Touch your fingertips to your forehead saying:
Open my mind to remember your presence.

Touch your fingertips to your mouth saying
Open my mouth to speak your wisdom.

Touch your fingertips to your heart, saying:
Open my heart to extend your love.

Hold both your hands out, open, palms up, saying:
Open my hands to serve you generously.

Holding arms open wide, saying:
Open my whole being to you.

Make a deep bow to the Holy Presence within you.

from Open the Door by Joyce Rupp, pg 13.

Grains of Sand

No matter what shoes one wears, how open or closed they are, when you walk along the beach there are always little grains of sand that get into your shoes and attach themselves to your feet. Those small, sticky, irritating grains of sand that cling to your skin, work themselves between your toes, that carry the smell of the sea with them, and they are still there long after you have left the open horizon behind you and headed home.

I want to continue moving forward, to walk quickly through those places where little things cling to my being, and dwell in the place where my heart lives fully open, vibrant, whole and unafraid. But those grains of sand seem to get under my feet, in the tender places, irritating my fears, rubbing against the quirks that I so wish were not there at all and they really slow my walk forward, or seem to slow things down. I wish I didn’t overreact to things that hit old bruises within. I wish relationships that seem severed could be healed. I wish I had answers to questions on things that blindsided me but I don’t. These are all bits of those pesky grains of sand that have attached themselves, clinging to my feet, getting into those tender places and they cause me to forget the beauty and wonder, and vibrancy, of this season, this summer of life. This warm, sun filled season offers doors to opening my heart even more to the Light and beauty that Holy Presence holds along with the grains of sands.

There must be a way to walk barefoot in the sand, letting those little grains come and go, and be able to laugh about them all because this is such a magnificent colourful season of life!

A Season of Seasonings

The pasta dough had to be just right - and this time it was perfect. Chef had it ready to go. The process of rolling it out, feeding it through the pasta roller and getting beautiful thin flat long pieces of pasta was very satisfying. Using the right size of cutter, the circles were laid out, egg wash brushed around the top half of the circle, the pork mixture placed in the centre and the other half of the circle folded over. Gently, carefully lift them off the counter, pinch the edge of the half moon shape to form a collar, press your thumb in the middle, fold over one edge, brush with egg wash, fold the other end over and press gently to seal, and there you have your freshly made tortellini. It would be an amuse bouche to be served with a foamy basil cream sauce and parmesan shavings for the evening dinner service. Chef and I worked side by side preparing the tortellini as he instructed me; keep my fingers firm but light to get the shape just right for these delicate little packages of flavour, to get the air pockets moved out of the filling, to not rip or damage the pasta dough, and to get the feel of the process. I had not made pasta since cooking school days over 10 years ago.

Our curry spice container at home was empty and as I looked for a new packet in the grocery store while doing my shopping, my eyes lingering on the varieties. I have been using smoked paprika, star anise, cardamom pods and plenty of vanilla beans and enjoying how they can shift the whole flavour of a recipe. Chef uses combinations I would never have thought of and while I cannot always tell the exact ingredient he put in, I know there is something subtle that has made the dish or sauce something very out of the ordinary!

Working in a restaurant kitchen was not a place I had seen myself being part of and yet that is where I am in this present season of life. In this small kitchen I am being mentored by a wonderful Irish chef who is calm, even tempered, creative, funny, and shows by example how to always strive to bring out the best flavours, colours and artistry in everything on the menu. A small quiet environment of tutoring, challenge and exploration seems to be the Divine recipe to add new seasonings within my whole being. Unusual combinations are present in this season of life and I can only stay with my theme for this year which is to remain very present.

Every day holds the same routine - make the focaccia, prepare the desserts and ensure that my station has all I need for the evening service for the appetizers and desserts. The routine has become familiar, comfortable and steady. Chef and I both love our tea and we start with a good strong cup to sip as we begin our day which starts at 2PM. But I am again experiencing the reality that in order to create delicious food, I myself must be very present. I have never been a dessert eater or creator, and have never really prepared anything but easy desserts, except in cooking school. Now that has changed because the menu has a dessert selection that holds some beautiful choices that require precision but more than that, as Chef reminds me often, you must learn to ‘feel’ the food. Let your hands become so sensitive that they know exactly when the bread dough is just right and exactly the right feel for the chocolate mousse. Food preparation has never before been so much about touch being needed for perfection but it certainly is now. The feeling must come first in my hands but it comes from my belly, my heart, the deepest places within that can be sensitive to the slightest difference which can and does change the outcome of everything I make. Know the feel of your food and it will make all the difference as to how it is presented and how it tastes.

This is a different kind of seasoning - the finely ground seasoning of patience, of routine, of striving for the best product without beating myself up when it does not work, of seeking quality with creativity while being mentored by another who does it exceptionally well. It is humbling to be the student again, watching, learning, seeing why something didn’t work and what I must pay attention to as I remake it. The seasoning of laughter adds the ingredient of joy and the ability to laugh at my mistakes in a lighter way. I am a perfectionist in the kitchen - I freely admit it. But my perfectionism has often come at the cost of making others feel less than if they didn’t do it my way. I want that to change - to learn to use the seasoning of beauty and creativity liberally, with the ingredients of joy, love, honour and dignity, binding it all together. The seasoning of incredible gentleness from Chef, the seasoning of grace, is like the chocolate glaze that is poured over the marquise - it makes the dessert look perfect and covers any little imperfections that have come when I removed it from the mould. I am learning in new ways how the seasonings of honour and dignity and gentleness bring out an eagerness and a joy in creating, even when it is under time pressure. Even in our small staffed kitchen, there is a lot of pressure on a busy night and orders come flying at you. My seasoning jar of patience and seeking beauty are what I must inhale and dip my hands in so that I stay steady, quiet within, and focus on making each dish, savoury or sweet, one that first delights the eyes and then the palate of each guest who is awaiting its arrival.

This summer season has been one of enjoying the sun and days off, and also of working hard in a hot kitchen. The heat of this summer has been intense, unusually intense. Even as I work in the heat, the Spirit gently reminds me to stay present, to lean into, and to learn what these seasonings will bring out in this season of this one life I have been given.

As Mary Oliver says in her poem ‘Summer Day’…

“Tell me what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

A Meditation Moment

Someone will describe something precious and in that moment they give words to what your heart feels but you cannot define. Recently I heard someone describe sitting at the piano as meditative space for them and it gave clarity to my own time in the same place. A place where you are free to let the music come, unscripted, unwritten, and it flows from your heart. Perhaps that is why the most glorious freedom at the piano comes where there is no one waiting for me to play.

Meditation moments are for you and the Almighty alone I think, and while there may be others around, they are on the periphery and you are unaware of their presence. Moments of beautiful love and Light that are a love line from God, in my experience. Often in this time I am lost and not even aware of what I am playing.

Communion is a sacred part of our Christian heritage and is also a meditation moment where another kind of deep love line is heard from the Almighty. The following song drew me into this space in a service and I keep looking at it realizing there is such a wholeness message from Jesus in this piece. I let these words flow, let notes come, and find this song bringing me to quiet places with the Holy One repeatedly .

Come Touch Our Hearts

Come touch our hearts that we may know compassion,
From falling embers build a blazing fire;
Love strong enough to overturn injustice,
To seek a world more gracious, come touch and bless our hearts.

Come touch our souls that we may know and love you,
Your quiet presence all our fears dispel;
Create a space for spirit to grow in us,
Let life and beauty fill us, come touch and bless our souls.

Come touch our minds and teach us how to reason,
Set free our thoughts to wonder and to dream;
Help us to open doors of understanding,
To welcome truth and wisdom, come touch and bless our minds.

Come touch us in the moments we are fragile,
And in our weakness your great strength reveal;
That we may rise to follow and to serve,
Steady now our nerve, come touch and bless our wills.

Come touch us now, this people who are gathered,
To break the bread and share the cup of peace;
That we may love you with our heart, our soul,
Our mind, our strength, our all, come touch us with your grace.

Written by Common Cup Company.

The Places We Come Home To...Sacred Space

The beach is usually quiet, from a traffic perspective, with the sound of the waves that can vary in pitch, tempo and volume. It is ‘my bit of beach’ and so often I go there to walk, to think, to be in the presence of the Almighty. This quiet bit of space is sacred space for me where I have made altars, shed tears, spent time wrestling the God, and where I so often feel at home and find stillness and peace. I find stillness in a place where the movement of the sea never ever ceases!

There are those spaces of time, some in solitude, others in the company of others, where you feel so freely and fully yourself and every time you are there, or remember, you can exhale and feel so alive. I have struggled to really name these places and the only term I have found is ‘sacred space’. This term does not really define or give a fullness to what I feel - it seems too nebulous, too open ended to gather up what my soul, my inner being, experiences, and recognizes. Yet there are many places where this kind of space waits for me. It is not one in particular but rather various ways and locations that seem to hold this definition for me.

Recently as I read through Sin Boldly - A Field Guide for Grace, by Cathleen Falsani, I read something that gave borders to what ‘sacred space’ is. It became tangible and definable:
“Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again,” (Joseph) Campbell, the American mythologist said”. pg 113

Campbell’s idea of what this means has thrown open a window to a much larger clearer view of sacred space. We are such complex beings, made up of so many pieces and stories, journeying and pilgrimages, altars and turning points, light and dark. So therefore a single solitary ‘sacred space’ where we can find ourselves again and again would never be enough to hold all we are. For me I would add that they are places where that ‘home’ includes holy places.

My work place is a beautiful lodge at the beginning of the road leading to ‘my bit of beach’ and so I have begun to go early on my work days, park the car and walk along this road of sacred space. This is a place I come to meet my God and to be embraced in the intimate time that I find in Holy Presence at the edge of the sea here. It is a place where my heart comes home in this Presence of being fully and completely known and understood. Where the sensual, solitude loving woman I am is home.

In the open spaces where I feel the wind upon my face, my skin the contemplative within me is home and waiting for the stillness and knowing that God promises when I wait. Places that invite me into contemplation and stillness are safe and holy places.

The gift of a loving relationship with my husband holds many levels and facets. Yet the woman that emerges and finds herself within his embrace in our most intimate times is one I am only coming to welcome home. It is a place of such safety and freedom and home that is a very holy place.

Traveling brings out the adventurer in me but the deeply feminine soul within comes home when I am in Europe. I cannot explain it, but it is like I have come home when I am in this place of old culture, vibrant living, food that is a sensuous event, and rituals that are old and rich. The Spirit, Sophia - wisdom, opens me up to seeing Holy Presence in old and deep cultures and languages that are not my own.

The kitchen where the life carrier, nurturer, goes to work preparing food, setting the table, creating the atmosphere for others to come and dine - this is truly sacred space for much of me knows it is truly home and alive and vibrant here. The preparation, serving and sharing of food is a deeply holy, healing and life giving ritual.


I come home to where I reside with my husband at the end of each work day. Coming home is also the place where I ‘find myself again and again’. The beautiful little house in the woods is a sacred space surrounded by trees, where we have put our stamp together into the structure. While it shelters us from the rain, and keeps us warm, it is also the place where we are learning to both bring ourselves more fully, honestly and openly into partnering together in life. All of me is constantly being invited to live large here.

The Synagogue is the oldest one in Toronto, on a less traveled street out of the way. Yet as I stood in front of it many years ago I began to weep. Not knowing why, I only knew the ‘how’ my soul felt a sense of deeply sacred presence. Holy Presence was there for me, very large for me, on this holy ground.

The other day little Sophia, 3 years old, came running into the kitchen to see the Executive Chef, her daddy. As she was lifted and squeezed into his loving embrace my heart was squeezed in wonder. She is a perfect little beauty and there is something holy when you observe this love between a parent and their child. I was observing their sacred space. Places where they come home to over and over again - where they bring themselves into ‘home’. Beauteous as Chef would say!

Just thinking of the places that were sacred and what part of me comes home again and again put a new dimension to these thin places that hold beauty, mystery, wonder and the ingredients and essence of who each of us are. Perhaps these ‘sacred spaces’ awaken me each time I am aware of being there. In each awakening there is a deeper degree of living. And perhaps it is in choosing to live that all we are within journeys into ‘home’.

Rainy Day Comfort

These words on quiet from Thomas Merton speak to me today as I sit in this gray rainy day.

In Silence

Be still.
Listen to the stones of the wall.
Be silent, they try
To speak your

Name.
Listen
To the living walls.
Who are you?
Who
Are you? Whose
Silence are you?

Who (be quiet)
Are you (as these stones
Are quiet). Do not
Think of what you are
Still less of
What you may one day be.
Rather
Be what you are (but who?) be
The unthinkable one
You do not know.

O be still, while
You are still alive,
And all things live around you
Speaking (I do not hear)
To your own being,
Speaking by the Unknown
That is in you and in themselves.

“I will try, like them
To be my own silence:
And this is difficult. The whole
World is secretly on fire. The stones
Burn, even the stones
They burn me. How can a man be still or
Listen to all things burning? How can he dare
To sit with them
When all their silence
Is on fire?”

~ Thomas Merton ~

(The Strange Islands: Poems by Thomas Merton)

At The Edge of Our Longing

God speaks to each of us only in making us
And the walks silently with us out of the night.
But the words before our beginning,
cloudy words are these:

"Sent out by your senses,
Go to the edge of your longing,
Give me something to wear.

Flare up like a fire behind all things,
So that their shadows expand
to always cover me fully.

Let everything happen to you: Beauty and terror
Just keep going: No feeling is the farthest out.
Do not let yourself be parted from me.
Near is the land
which they call life.

You will know it
by its earnestness.

Give me your hand."

Rainer Maria Rilke
(translated by Br. David Steindl-Rast,OSB)

taken from The Edge of Our Longing - Unspoken Hunger for Sacredness and Depth
by James Conlon, pg10

Courage Sweet Friend, In Your Story

I have, through the struggle and climb through depression and oppression, found that to embrace every piece of my own story, is to own my own story and value it, and to find Love and the Beloved fully present through it all. The road has, and always will, have mountains, valleys, every weather and emotion pattern we were created to experience. Some will understand and walk with us, others hide their own heart by hiding from us.

Frederick Buechner writes:
“Our choice is this. It is to choose to believe that the truth of our story is contained in Jesus’ story, which is a love story. Jesus’ story is the truth about who we are and who the God is who Jesus says loves us. It is the truth about where we are going and how we are going to get there, if we get there at all, and what we are going to find if we finally do. Only for once let us not betray the richness and depth and mystery of that truth by trying to explain it.”

This beautiful thought that our story is a love story with Jesus is something that can get lost in the pain, or in the strange views of grace and the Giver of grace that are out there. Today I think of this truth and love story in the context of a friend who is bravely journeying into her story. It is a beautiful love story that this traveller is beginning to see and I hold out courage for the journey into truth and freedom, hope and wisdom.

Reading this quote of Buechner brought tears to my eyes as I thought of the beauty of courage that it takes for each one who chooses to walk into the truth of what they have experienced, what they cannot comprehend and somehow to be able to live with the questions and not stay stuck there. It can be such a lonely walk through this forest, or desert, and those who stay there with us are so important.

Isaiah wrote:
“Look, I’ve written your names on the backs of my hands. The walks your rebuilding are never out of my sight.”

Like a jigsaw puzzle, every single piece has been written on by the Almighty and will be used to rebuild the walls of the heart.

Courage sweet friend in your journey into this amazing love story that is yours! It is hard work and I know you are tired. Courage sweet friend as you keep going. The climb is hard and long and seemingly endless. As you look back you can begin to see a view of hope. You are not alone - we are with you. Courage sweet friend as you continue to open this book of your life and feel the presence of the One who writes it with you.

Quote on Grace

"Grace is Christianity's best gift to the world, a spiritual nova in our midst exerting a force stronger than vengeance, stronger than racism, stronger than hate. Sadly, to a world desperate for this grace the church sometimes presents one more form of ungrace. Too often we more resemble the grim folks who gather to eat boiled bread than those who have just partaken of Babette's feast."
Philip Yancey

quote found in Sin Boldly - A Field Guide for Grace, pg 109
author: Cathleen Falsani

A Day Of Unfolding Prayer

A Day of Prayer

It has been a noisy few weeks around the house with a new metal roof being put on to replace the 26 year old cedar shakes, and then the next week new windows replacing the 26 year old ones that were no longer efficient. That work was finished this morning and so this afternoon it is finally quiet. My husband has not slept well for a number of nights and now he reclines on a steamer chair out on the deck, with Astrophe the 20 year old cat snuggled up on his legs. An empty cider bottle, plates that held our afternoon snacks of blueberry cheese cake are now empty. The sounds of nature surround me as I write.

There is so much work to do and the house is chaos with what had to be moved for the new windows to go in. Piles of chopped wood still need to be stacked, there is a lot of gardening to do. I listen to my husband gently snoring and am glad he is catching a little sleep.

Yet in this moment, simply being present, waiting, listening…it feels like Holy Presence, like prayer without words. Being this quiet feels quite decadent and indeed it is! But stepping back from all the work is very intentional and Barbara Brown Taylor writes about it as “the practice of being present to God.” This day holds the gift of being awake, being aware, and of listening to life around. The sunlight makes visible a multitude of insects dancing in the air. The light is filtering through the purple anemone flowers in the deck boxes and the little veins in the petals are visible. Tulips have been beautiful but now they are almost done. Nasturtium seeds have come to life crowding each other out as they reach for life. I am awaiting those beautiful yellow, orange and red flowers that can be picked regularly and used on summer salads. Spider wed threads, so fine and almost invisible stretch from the deck table over to the anemone - how do they get there and how do they stay so strong? Is this not an amazing little miracle of life and beauty? Is not all this life I can see, hear, feel, smell and touch as I sit quietly here holy? When Jesus said that he came to give us life and give it abundantly maybe it was a day just like this - full of colour, sound, beauty, peace and pulsing vibrant life.

Today feels like a day of prayer, of listening, and of love. My husband suggested we go for a late breakfast and so we ate at a funky little restaurant in lower Gibsons. The sun was shining on the harbour, sail boats rocked gently, and we watched people walking along the path by the waters edge. I sipped my coffee, he his tea as we waited for our food and we chatted letting our conversation meander gently. When I feel this awake to life it is holy presence for me. Today I feel deeply, fully awake to life, and to the presence of God. This openness to life invites me to be still and in this place to know God. God is here in the chaos, in the midst of afternoon beverages and snacks and glorious sunshine with insects dancing in the breeze. Today I am practicing being present to God and to all that that makes real to me.

A Surprising Beauty

The colours of spring have delighted me incredibly this year. There have been many holy moments where I have just stood still in the open door with a reverence for the profusion of colour in the new life of the garden along with songs in abundance from the birds who gather to feed around the property. Amid all the earthy colours of the tulips a celestial colour has appeared and this lone blue poppy has been released to give a particular beauty to the morning view.

I Want A Lot

You see, I want a lot.
Perhaps I want everything:
the darkness that comes with every infinite fall
and the shivering blaze of every step up.

So many live on and want nothing
and are raised to the rank of prince
by the slippery ease of their light judgments.

But what you love to see are faces
that so work and feel thirst....

You have not grown old, and it is not too late
to dive into your increasing depths
where life calmly gives out its own secret.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

(Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. by Robert Bly)

The Cooks Who Have Influenced Us - Remembering Malvina

The Cooks Who Have Influenced Us

This week I have been realizing to a greater degree how much each piece of my life is coming into play in what I do now, who I am and how I react to situations, the way that I love, the way I carry joy and pain in life. How I cook has been influenced by so many women along the way, and I actually don’t have many men who have influenced my culinary skills – except for the chefs at cooking school and they were at a theoretical level, not a heart level.

Today I heard about the death of one of those women – Malvina Rose. Many years ago I used to babysit her children. She and her husband were very involved in the Hungarian Canadian club and she so often was taking large trays of food out the door as they headed to a gathering. Their house was always filled with the aroma of something wonderful from the kitchen. She shared her recipe for cabbage rolls and it is the one have had the most success with. In fact I always think of her and her warm dark eyes and lovely laughter whenever I prepare cabbage rolls her way.

There are so many stories, places, faces and warm kitchen memories come alive when I meander through the recipes in the old tin box in the cupboard - a wonderful melange of pieces of paper from the cooks in my life.

I don’t have a written recipe for Hungarian Cabbage rolls, but aside from those Malvina made, I have eaten fabulous ones in a little restaurant in the centre of Budapest Hungary, as well as at a self serve restaurant in the centre of Kiev Ukraine.

Thanks Malvina for introducing my palate to the delights of Hungarian traditional dishes! My thoughts are with her husband and children as they move through this sorrow.

Here is a traditional recipe for Hungarian Cabbage Rolls from recipes.epicurean.com
Ingredients:
1 medium head cabbage
3 lbs. ground beef,veal,pork mixture(sometimes I use all ground pork from the tenderloin)
1/2 cup Uncle Ben's rice
1 egg
1 medium onion (chopped)
4 cloves crushed garlic
6 slices bacon
1 Tblsp. paprika
1 large can tomato sauce
1 large jar Vlasic sauerkraut
1 small piece of jowl bacon for seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
2-3 quarts water
Directions:
Core head of cabbage and boil in large pot until cabbage becomes soft in the middle of core. Do not over cook or cabbage will fall apart when wrapping. When cooled separate leaves and slice off some of the thick vein. Set aside.
Fry bacon, remove when crisp. Keep grease in fry pan. Add chopped onion and garlic. Cook in grease until tender but not brown. Set aside.
In a mixing bowl
, combine meat, egg, rice, salt, pepper, paprika. Mix ingredients together, add cooked onion/garlic mixture, grease and all. Mix until mixture becomes a little sticky.
Rinse sauerkraut in a colandar, squeeze excess water out. Sprinkle kraut on a bottom of a 6 qt pot, add the jowl bacon for flavoring only.
Assembling cabbage rolls:
Place cabbage leaf in left palm, place a small handful of meat mixture in right hand (about the size of a large meatball) Press down on cabbage leaf. Lay one end of leaf over meat and roll up then secure other end of leaf pushing into the meat. Lay seam side down on top of sauerkraut. Continue until all the cabbage and meat is used up. Cover cabbage rolls with water. Add one can tomato sauce to give it color. Sprinkle with garlic powder and paprika if so desired.
Cook on top of stove for about 3-4 hours or longer to acquire a better flavor

Serves a large crowd 15-20.. depends on size of cabbage roll. Can be frozen and reheated in oven.
My mother always made it on top of the stove but some people prefer baking in the oven. I like it both ways. The meat is a little more tender if baked in the oven. Also, the less beef used, the more tender the roll. Good luck!

.

For A New Beginning

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

~ John O'Donohue ~

(To Bless the Space Between Us)

I See You

Peals of laughter erupt from this tiny little being as you cover your eyes and then quickly reveal them and say 'peek a boo, I see you'. Most of us have played this game with little children and found ourselves laughing along as their delight becomes ours. Perhaps the words are not yet clear to these little ones but they surely are aware of our gaze, our tone of love and delight as we look into their eyes and they look into ours...they see us and we see them. As adults I think we still play this little game but in an entirely different way which may not involve laughter, or looking directly at another person. I wonder if it comes "can you see me?" instead of "I see you".

We long to be fully seen and yet there are parts of us, so deeply sacred, that they are not meant to be seen by all. So often others have shared how unseen they feel in the place they currently are - they feel so unknown, and long to be acknowledged in the areas which hold the essence of who they are. Within is this constant longing to be whole but these unacknowledged pieces of us seem to be fractured pieces. I am sure most of us have felt this in various places on our life pilgrimage. It is painful to hear another speak of it because it touches the same pain with me. We are slotted into roles that perhaps we do well but they do not give us the freedom to expand the other facets we hold within or to show more fully our true selves. To emerge from these slots is not the role of others, but seems to me, to be our own responsibility. Yet there are so many levels of our being affected when we are unseen and it can be confusing, aggravating and even paralyzing. Doubt can seep into our confidence, our vulnerable/wounded places become more sensitive and what we love doing can be attacked by apathy. Could it be part of the struggle lies in the reality that there of pieces within we have not yet discovered, acknowledged or been able to make space for or hold open for others? Our own inner paradox. What do we see when we look at a stranger and there is no conversation to open up the inside to us?

I am currently starting up a new little business that will in part be preparing meals for seniors in their homes. In my research conversations with this age group they have revealed their own struggle in the area of being unseen and unknown in this later part of their life. Sitting at table together to eat a meal, can I 'see' them as they share stories of their life with me? Some in this stage of life are not able to hold onto what is present so easily but the past is still so fully alive. Their sharing offers other generations insight helping us honor and share in who they are now - even if their memory does not allow them to hold the present.

One of my current reads is a new book by Barbara Brown Taylor, "An Altar In The World". In the chapter The Practice of Encountering Others - Community the author gave me some different insight into 'seeing' others. She writes:
"What we have most in common is not religion but humanity. I learned this from my religion, which also teaches me that encountering another human being is as close to God as I may ever get - in the eye-to-eye thing, the person-to-person thing - which is where God's Beloved has promised to show up. Paradoxically, the point is not to see him. The point is to see the person standing right in front of me, who has no substitute, who can never be replaced, whose heart holds things for which there is no language, whose life is an unsolved mystery. The moment I turn that person into a character in my own story, the encounter is over. I have stopped being a human being and have become a fiction writer instead.

When I first came to Christian faith in college, people I barely knew made a habit of telling me they loved me. They were Christians too, and I guess it was their way of welcoming me to the family. I did not mind, exactly, but since they barely knew me I was not sure what they were talking about. Did they love the way my right foot turned out, so that I left tracks like a penguin on the beach? Did they love my willingness to make hand printed signs for Bible study? Did they love the way my upper lip disappeared when I laughed? I decided to find out, so the next time one of the Christians said she loved me, I asked her why.

She made a surprised face, like I should already know.

'Because God loves you!' she said, throwing up both hands in the air. 'I love you because God loves everybody!'

This may sound small, but I decided that was not enough for me. I did not want to be loved in general. I wanted to be loved in particular, as I was convinced God loved. Plus, I am not sure it is possible to see the face of God in other people if you cannot see the faces they already have. What is it that makes the face different from every other face? If someone threw a blindfold over your own eyes right now, could you say what colour those other eyes are? If you had to send someone into a crowded room to find this person, what details would you use to make sure she was found?

The Desert Fathers did not see one another all that often, but when they did they knew the encounter would be holy. This did not mean that they always behaved particularly well; it just meant that they knew they were one anothers' best bets for becoming fully human. (quote from page 102/103)

There are times when we are surprised by one who has seen our inner spaces. The second time I saw the man who would be my husband he brought a book and suggested it didn't need to be on his shelf but might be good on mine. Feasting with God - all about the sacredness of the process of preparing, serving and eating a meal in communion with others. I was overwhelmed that he saw into my soul when I was unaware I had even opened the window for him to look in! Feasting With God, the book, is all about engaging our senses when we come to dine together in the sacred event of a meal. Those who listen and see carry within them a fragrant gift of life. Deeply sensitive and intuitive people speak so gently and powerfully of life being lived very much in the present. Somehow they see the uniqueness of each person they interact with.

What do I see? I am listening so I can see? What am I looking for? These questions have lead me to more clearly discern that a contemplative life is a listening life. A listening life is to open your heart and eyes to see more clearing, and know at a deeper level. All of my senses require engagement so that I am able to 'see' others and know myself more fully. I don't know that I can do this without acknowledging the Spirit's presence within me. In an encounter between Jesus and a blind man, the man was given sight but he had to also learn to listen to have clear vision. Jesus is a bit sarcastic when he says to the group around him "since you claim to see everything so well..." but he is asking them to engage their senses in order for seeing, listening and knowing to give them a more complete picture. I am definitely moving towards the reality that to see another all my senses must be engaged when I interact with them in order to understand more of who they are. As I reflect on conversations with friends who feel unseen, as I look at how Jesus walked through this exchange with a 'blind' man, and the crowd who could not or would not 'see' him, fully engaged senses are a must for clear vision.

Cathleen Falsani, in her new book Sin Boldly, quotes Frederick Buechner and my interpretation is that the senses together are part of seeing which is very much connected to grace.

Listen to your life.
See it for the fathomless mystery that it is.
In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness:
touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden part of it,
because in the last analysis all moments are key moments,
and life itself is grace.

To those who have shared their aching places that are unseen, thank you for letting me listen and making some of those places visible as we sat together.

Empower Me

Empower me to be a bold participant,
rather than a timid saint in waiting,
in the difficult ordinariness of now;
to exercise the authority of honesty,
rather than to defer to power,
or deceive to get it;
to influence someone for justice,
rather than impress anyone for gain;
and,
by grace,
to find treasures of joy,
of friendship,
of peace,
hidden in fields of the daily you give me to plow.

A reading by Ted Loder from 'A Grateful Heart"

Memories and Gnomes

In the movie Amelie, there is a delightful gnome that is photographed all over the world and then the photos are sent to a man who needs to have life awakened in him. It is a most delightful movie.

When I was heading to Moldova, Hungary, and then Salzburg Austria just over two years ago I had packed a little woolen gnome in my suitcase and promised my beloved I would photograph it in as many places as possible and then tell him all about the journey. This photo is the record of that visit to Salzburg. Yet there is so much more to this memory as I look at it. Two years ago today, in that city of ancient history, long walks along the river, chamber music at the Festung Hohensalzburg, strudel and Austrian white wine at a side walk cafe, fresh hot pretzels in the market square, and the celebration of Easter, my beloved ask me to marry him.

It was a beautiful day, like this beautiful spring day today, and the memories have had us both laughing today as we thought about that magical time so far away from home. Today there is fresh cut wood to stack and dry for our winter fires, there is a house to clean, groceries to do, a Seder supper to plan, and bills to pay. Yet those memories and the journey we have been on together bring us to this moment where there are fresh stories being written.

I am full of gratitude to the Almighty for all that those memories - the celebrations, the changes, endings, beginnings and the faithful presence of the Divine.

The gnome sits on the bookshelf in our living room waiting for the next trip and we have a bottle of Austrian white wine to drink with supper tonight!

Wings of Peace, Strings of Hope

Every Easter the priest at our church would hang the most beautiful coloured paper butterflies from the ceiling. They would gently sway and remind people of spring, of resurrection, hope and new life. When he moved from our church he also took his butterflies away with him.
My husband missed this ritual last Easter and so he decided that this year we would make and hang origami peace cranes. Between the two of us we have made 170 of these paper cranes and now we are trying to string them, 14 to a string, on fishing line! Tangled threads, needles that keeping falling off the thread and little beads that have to be threaded and knotted between each crane, have made this a rather time consuming task. Once you get the 14 cranes on the line...where does one hang them all until they can be taken to the church later in the week?? Well the 5 that have been completed will rest on the tallest ladder we have, right in the middle of the living room! There is always a way to get this done.
Okay, so one must keep the vision of all 12 strings hanging, seemingly invisibly from the sanctuary ceiling, and swaying gently on Easter Sunday, and complete this slow task!

Morning Birds, Summer Water, Affirmations of Faith

There are those moments, when you are deep within them, there is nothing else around you except the intensity of all that your senses can absorb there. It is as if you are holding your breath while there, and then, exhaling, it passes. You then have the convergence of what was, what is and what will be - the demands of all that keeps us from being fully present and all too often prevent the digesting, listening, hearing, seeing, and holding what it was we inhaled. Only later when you hold those moments can you see that they were moments of prayer, Holy conversation, places of being invited and accepting "be still and know that I am God", and knowing you can trust the One who gifted you with it.

In a recent one of those moments I had stepped out into the early morning to retrieve some firewood. The curtain of the night was slowly being drawn back and morning light was beginning to filter through the trees that reached up. Unseen, resting in the branches, sat the birds who had begun to awake and welcome to the day - songs that came to me in surround sound as I walked across the frost carpeted ground. With my arms full of wood I stopped, waited, and inhaled. This birthing of a new day was a glorious moment where the earth, the sky, and the birds of the air came together in praise to the Creator. I was drawn into this Holy place where my soul could say "yes" as an affirmation of faith, a prayer of gratitude and a "good morning God" conversation. My heart, mind and body were invited to be postured in prayer as I stood in the garden with my arms full of firewood and the morning light making its way through the trees. I momentarily forgot it was cold out there!

Her daughter used to love lying on the surface of the water in the pool and it was so hard to get her out of the water. My friends' daughter would let the warm water hold her body, let it carry her and ease the pain of her chronic illness. It also became her place of prayer - the place to "be still and know that I am God."

Listening to my friend tell this story in her sermon brought back my own 'prayer upon the water'. It was the summer of 1999 when I had been living in Castellammare di Stabia for 4 months, had stopped speaking in English, and had begun to lose the 'mozzarella' skin tone that set me apart from the locals of this southern Italian town. The luxury of time, of hot sun under the Mediterranean sky, gave endless hours to spend lying out on the glorious blue water. Lying there, hot sun on my back, my hands dangling in the water and my chin resting on the mattress cushion, I watched the surface move and glisten thinking how easy it was to simply remain on the surface of life. Moving my head over the edge of the air mattress, what was going on beneath the surface of the water was visible. With only my hands in the water, I could see through the turquoise liquid, where little fish captured my attention. There is so much beneath the surface that is fascinating, different, enchanting, and very real. I thought of those who can put on a mask and head beneath the surface, letting that area show them new sounds, a different perspective and a much larger picture than what I experienced on the surface. If I could go beneath this warm relaxed place I was lying...if I would begin to live life in the depths, to see it, hear it, know it in a different dimension? Looking back, those summer water days were not just random thoughts - they were prayer, my soul seeking far more than I already knew. Being held up, floating, listening and waiting, those sighs were Holy moments of conversation with the Beloved. The Beloved was already taking my whole being into the deeper places of living, preparing me to consciously take that journey. Was this sighing in the summer sun, in the place of waiting not knowing what life held for me, not only a place of invitation but it was also an affirmation of my faith in the One who heard the silent prayer for a life of living beyond the visible, beyond the surface and into the places where only the two of us would go?

Almost 10 years later now, I found the roar and the sighing of the waves rolling in on this warm spring day reminded me of many chapters in my life that have been written beside the sea in places far from where I now live. This beach, my beloved beach here at home, has been the site of altars being built, tears on sand at my feet, laughter, vows, summer evening conversations shared over wine, cheese and fresh bread, a quite place alone with a good book. These places where the ceiling is the sky have been unorthodox places of worship, the sounds of nature being the opening bars leading my soul to praise the Beloved, the Almighty, the One who is so vast out there, and so intimately present within me. The litergy between the Creator and creation are an ever tender invitation into places of Holy Conversation - conversations that become a deeper grounding and affirmation of my faith in God and relationship with the Trinity. Somewhere in the morning, in the birds, in the constant motion of the sea, in memories, and in what I have held today, are the unknown number of stones/pieces of Divine interactions that ground me and have created my own affirmation of faith.


Prayer:
"I believe, O Lord and God of the peoples,
That Thou art He Who created my soul and set it warp,
Who created my body from dust and from ashes,
Who gave to my body breath, and to my soul it possessions.
Father, bless to me my body,
Father, bless to me my soul,
Father, bless to me my life,
Father, bless to me my belief."
pg 30 Beginning Again
Mary c. Earle

Old Friends

They are both old friends - one has kept my husband company in his many years alone and the other was a friend who let me speak without words in my many years alone.

Yesterday as Astrophe ventured outside and lay on the deck, I watched her settle down in the warmth of the spring sunshine. She has spent almost 20 year following my husband around as he worked on the property creating something beautiful out of this raw land. Now she has a broken hip and the warm bathroom floor is where she comes once the weather cools down until it is warm enough again to take her frail body outside. Picking her up you feel her thinness and fragility, yet she snuggles into your shoulder, placing her head into your neck and begins to purr, to sing, reminding you she still has comfort to freely offer. She is a comforting little friend to me now too.

Almost 23 years ago I traded my original piano in when it needed far more work done on it than I could afford. This one came home with me and has provided a place to let the music become the words that could not be articulated - either for celebration or for grieving, or just for being. For the past 7 years it has been played by many hands as it sat in the great room at Linwood House. But now this old friend to come to our little house in the woods and for me once again to be the voice for the words I cannot always express.

There are many old friends we have on our journeying. Some speak with us, others speak for us. But who or whatever they are, it is wonderful when we are in the same place together.

Grounding In The Midst of Change

What gives us comfort in times of change? What brings us stability in times of change? These are two questions my husband asked me, knowing they were questions that would come up in a meeting he was heading out to. So with my hands wrapped around my hot cup of strong coffee, he getting ready to head out the door, we spent a few minutes sharing our thoughts and realities pertaining to these questions.

Change is certainly not seasonal; it is momentary and constant and I find myself less attuned to the small changes and not very ready for the big changes that come along! I never feel quite prepared for the surprise of changes that are not of my own choosing. When they are my own choice I am not prepared for the layers of my life that shift when I embark on road. Everything inside me begins to shift and in order to stay grounded I seek places of safety, whether I am aware of it or not.

My inner being, that inner place of knowing, seeks safety in ways that seem so normal, so ordinary and every day. These are ways that are not consciously seeking safety but they are every day tasks that settle my racing thoughts, agitation, and actions that bring me back to being present.

As the two of us held this question together my answers were things like wrapping my hands around a hot cup of coffee or tea, bathing with only candles to light the room, sitting down at the piano to play, settling into my big arm chair with my feet up and putting on contemplative music, centering prayer, sitting at the edge of the sea, or walking in the wind. What is it about these tasks the brings grounding in the midst of change? Perhaps there is some deep answer to this question but in this moment my answer is just the simple observation that these ordinary things draw me into a place of knowing and experiencing God as present. I think I see that my faith and those places of Holy Presence in the ordinary are so real and so much a part of daily living and how the Spirit so faithfully draws me to those places. And that feels sure, grounded, and safe in the changes that continually unfold around me.

The Cello

My enchantment with the cello began many years ago. It wasn't the sound of the cello that initially drew me in but the embrace in which it was held by the musician who would so intensely caress it and draw the sounds from within this very responsive instrument that was deeply sensitive to the one who held it. Somewhere around 1986 we went to the Honen's International Piano competition to watch the two finalists give their best on the beautiful 9'2" gleaming black Bosendorfer concert grand piano. My love of classical piano, and a 3rd row, slightly to the right seat in the concert hall, was sure to give a great view as the Russian competitor played the "Rach 3" and the Italian, Chopin's Piano Concerto #2 (still one of my favorite works of music). Yet for all the pianists passion and drama, I was seduced by a cello and the one who embraced it and become one with it. While the individual sound of the cello was enveloped into the many voices of the orchestra, it alone called to me and drew me into the music that surrounded us all.

The book our book club is currently reading is The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax. It is the story of a young boy who inherits a bow when his father dies. It takes young Feliu Delargo a number of years before he discovers the bow belongs to the cello and not the violin where upon he falls in love with this instrument. In the story Feliu meets up with Edward Elgar and Feliu is asked to play Elgar's Cello Concerto in E Minor. Feliu expected it to be a piece that would need orchestral accompaniment. Elgar replies "I chose the cello for a reason of all the instruments, it is the one that sounds most like a human voice. I would ask you to play humanly, that's all."

Thinking about the cello as "the one that sounds most like a human voice" is perhaps why so many of us sink into a space of such contentment when we hear the cello being played. At our Taize service I could hear the cello speak out, a lone voice at times, and my heart opened even more to embrace this sacred time of contemplation and being present with the Almighty. Those deep resonating notes call out to me and sometimes they speak of joy, at times they are the voice of tears, or even more deeply the notes of an inner anguish that seems unheard. The most inner part of our being longs to be heard and given voice to, and yet, it is not always a human that can call it out of us. Music is a powerful invitation to let our feelings and thoughts explore journeys we are afraid to travel alone.

The cello also speaks of being embraced and held securely, firmly, lovingly and with intent. The cellist embraces the instrument with a oneness, a picture of refusal to have too much space between them in order to create the sweet music. As a human being there is always the longing to be heard, to give voice to what lies deep inside, and the need to be embraced and feel the heartbeat of another; where the humanness of one is recognized and acknowledged. The composers emotions, story, hopes, agonies - they reach me and connect us together. It is an embrace across time, distance, culture.

This beautiful instrument is always a reminder of being seen, being heard, and being embraced - actions that give visibility and honor to each of us. There is music within us all and there are those extraordinary people who are on our road of life. Their presence draws the music out of us because, like the cellist, they have embraced us, seen us, and heard us and given us the sacred space in which to create our own life melodies and voice to them. Our stories connect to that of another and we each begin to hear the music together.

Hope... in Process

I have read some excellent articles recently on hope and keeping hope in the process of walking through places that are difficult. Looking at these fresh colourful ranunculus and the espresso pots that produce wonderful strong rich cups of coffee sitting on our kitchen windowsill, I thought of how comfort and beauty keep hope alive.

We have decided to paint the main floor of our little house and because there is nowhere to move all the furniture it is being shifted incrementally around the room as my husband paints the walls! The dance of the furniture!! This is in preparation for bringing my beloved baby grand piano home again. It has been well used in the wonderful great room at Linwood House and it looks so beautiful there but...I have missed having it right here to play early in the morning or late at night, or in those moments when only creating music can give voice to what my soul needs to say. So we have shifted some furniture and are painting the room in preparation. The hope of having my piano available is so exciting for me.

Our home sits on just over 2 acres of land and it is completely surrounded by beautiful trees. We have our own inner sanctuary here with open spaces and a beautiful labyrinth that David built a number of years ago. Over the years the trees, of course, have grown and stretched and reached higher, and in their growing have also shut out some of the light. The garden patch sits in the shade most of the time and so in order to bring in more light, and to plant a garden, some trees needed to come down. What a mess it looks right now...over 20 trees are down, no longer vertical, but horizontal on the ground and splaying their dying limbs all over the garden. There is a lot of work to be done to take the little branches off and carry them to the perimeter of the property to continue building the berm, and then the trunks will need to be cut up into pieces for firewood, carried to the wood shed and stacked to provide the heat source for next winter! We can't see the lawn for the trees - never mind seeing the forest for the trees as they say!

There is chaos in the house and chaos in the garden but all of this is an essential part of the process of creating light, life and joy within our home and our lives. We are hoping for so much more to be added to how we live here, how we can eat, and how we relax and enjoy our home and allowing our creativity to take on an expanded life. Winter is still here, but there is hope for spring and the joy of the fruit of our labours in summer. Now even the hammock will be in the warmth of the sun instead of the coolness of the shade when it is hung up.

Winter is a time of stillness that is essential to movement. A few days ago there was snow but today I have discovered the fresh shoots of tulips, daffodils and crocus reaching up to greet the new season of life. The stillness often does not give visibility to the life that is held and waiting for the whisper that is hope to call it forth.

Colourful ranunculus and a strong cup of coffee - the endless wonder of natures beauty and those things we hold in our hands that comfort us. These are two things that speak of hope in the process of moving through whatever road we need to walk to move more deeply into our God given purpose. Seeing colour and the smell of good coffee also reminded me that God allows us to experience Holy Presence as we let our senses stay awake and alert. Stillness in places like Centering Prayer and our contemplative Taize service are another kind of wonder where the Spirit lets me experience the presence of the Trinity.

I smile as I stand at the kitchen window, surrounded by chaos that is both beauty and life in process.

"Love is my chosen food, my cup, holding me in its power.
Where I have come from,
Where'er I shall go,
Love is my birthright, my true estate."

From Psalm 16, Psalms for Praying
Translation by Nan C Merrill

Life Prayer

Gentle me,
Holy One,
into an unclenched moment,
a deep breath
a letting go
of heavy experiences,
of shrivalling anxieties,
of dead certainties,

that, softened by the silence,
surrounded by the light,
and open to the mystery,

I may be found by wholeness,
upheld by the unfathomable,
entranced by the simple
and filled with the joy
that is You.


-- by Ted Loder, from his book "Guerrillas of Grace", copyright (c) 1984 Innisfree Press.

Where is the Sacred in our food, our eating?

While the table and those gathered around it to eat has been a deeply holy time for me, I am beginning to see how much this sacred ritual goes beyond the table? What about the journey of the food before it is even in my kitchen to be prepared? Others have been exploring this for some time and their ponderings, writings,and ruminations have me venturing into a whole new level of this sacred life giving journey with food.

The following article from my current read on the subject is rich and provocative so I share it with you.

Rabbi Zalman M. Schachter-Shalomi
found on page 34/35 Bread Body Spirit - Finding the Sacred in Food

In an age of increasingly rapid technological change, the issue of what's kosher has widened its focus to an inclusive concern for the well-being of all our fellow human beings, our planet, and the entire universe. As soon as we orient ourselves to the path of planetary survival, we must ask about a whole range of things: are they kosher?

We want to know if nuclear power is kosher, and the electricity produced by it. (And what about nuclear waste, and all the other toxins with which we pollute the air, the earth, the seas, and eventually ourselves - are they clean or unclean, kosher or treif?)

Eggs are generally considered kosher, but what about eggs from chickens who spend their entire lives imprisoned in a cage one cubic foot in size? Food pellets are brought to them on one conveyor belt; their droppings and eggs are taken away on another. The Bible forbids us to torment animals or cause them any unnecessary grief. Raising chickens who can go out sometimes and see the sky or eat a worm or blade of grass is one thing, but manufacturing them in the concentration camp conditions of contemporary 'poultry ranches' is quite another.

According to Jewish dietary laws, all fruits and vegetables are kosher. But what about green beans or tomatoes harvested by ill-treated, underpaid, and exploited migrant workers - are they kosher? What about bananas from countries ruled by despots where the workers have few rights, and the bananas are heavily sprayed with DDT, picked green, and then artificially ripened in the holds of ships by being gassed - are they kosher?

Are chemical food additives kosher? They give food a longer shelf life, but what do they do to our lives? Who really knows what all those chemicals do to our livers, kidneys, stomachs, or intestines? And what about artificial colouring dyes that make food look 'pretty' but may cause cancer - are they kosher? And cigarettes, which we already know cause cancer, heart disease, and other health problems - are they kosher and pure?

The list of things about which we must answer the question - is it kosher? - is endless: fur from baby seals clubbed to death? Products from endangered species? The chemicals contained in many prepared foods (look at the list of ingredients on some labels)? Products or services produced at the cost of human pain and misery? Coal from strip mines that destroy our land; oil from offshore wells that pollute the seas? After a moment's thought, you can easily add to this list.

As you can see, the concept of kosher has to do with both the individual and the universe. Helping to take care of the business of the universe begins with taking care of ourselves. The Jewish tradition is very clear about this. Each of us is part of the whole, and we matter. We are therefore obliged to treat the temples of our bodies with the respect, gratitude, and even awe they deserve.

Once we have learned to care for ourselves - as individuals, as families, as groups, as an entire species of human beings - we reestablish our organic connection with the will of God. This organic connection is neither abstrct nor supernatural. it is based on a functional response to the ongoing processes of the universe. To discover these processes, all we have to do is open our hearts and eyes. If there is any great heresy, it is in making ourselves opaque to the world.

...The Great Solitude of Your Vast Soul...

"Know the depths of solitude, enjoy the warmth of community, and take a hand in the companionship of hospitality. By gently and gradually gathering up the strands of your fragmented life into one whole, you will become the one in skin that can distribute yourself to others, and still have something left to take into the great solitude of your vast soul and rest in God."

from Radical Hospitality pg 106.107
Father Daniel Homan, Lonni Collins Pratt

I have never seen such a splendid weaving together of solitude, community and hospitality and I continue to pursue the mystery. The experiences held within this pursuit take me by surprise again and again.

Please To The Table

Please To The Table is the name of a Russian cookbook that has been on my shelf for years. I have used it little but love to see that title! It seems so enchanting to say ‘please to the table’ when all is ready and your guests can come and dine.

As a little girl, not much higher than the dining room table, my Grandmother would give me the task of setting the silver ware in the right places as she prepared a meal for those coming to dinner. Being the oldest of six children with 5 male siblings after me, it was often my role at home to set the table for breakfast and dinner while we were in school. Out of this ritual of preparation came a love of making sure the table looked inviting, along with the aroma of food adding its own welcome invitation. It is no different for me now - the preparation of food and table go hand in hand in creating a welcome for those who will come to eat.

There are many layers to this ritual, many traditions that add facets to it, but no matter what your culture requires of you, this is a sacred part of mealtime. Layers that I am exploring at present, seeking to understand more deeply.

Hence when I read the following explanation from the book Radical Hospitality - Benedict’s Way of Love (Father Daniel Homan and Lonni Collins Pratt), it brought the word ‘yearning’ into this sacred ritual.
“Hospitality becomes a way of life as we become more open. It will not happen without preparation and unless you intend it to happen. When we speak of ‘preparing a table,’ we refer to the intention and the work of making space for another human being.
Preparing a table has sacramental meaning for Benedictines. Every meal, like every encounter with a human being, has the potential to reveal God present in Creation. The table represents the unknown yearning of every human heart for communion with ‘something more’ that infuses all the exists.”

Please, won’t you come to the table?

from C.S.Lewis

"The sweetest thing in my life has been the longing...to find the place where all the beauty came from."
C.S.Lewis
Till We Have Faces

Setting Sail into 2009

In this small West Coast community the residents have a passion for simplicity, for keeping life close yet living with an open heart, protecting this earth we have been given, and creating events that bring all the generations together. The famous Gumboot Café is the venue for gathering to chat, where artists showcase their work, great fresh bread is made and sold, funky creative foods are on the menu, and families gather to tap their feet to local musicians playing. It is also a community that has been creating rituals to bring the everyone together. One of these traditions takes place every New Year’s Day at dusk - sending little homemade boats out to sea, candles burning in them, carrying the wishes of the sender. This is a tradition my husband, a long time resident here, has introduced me to.

On New Years Day when he said he had to build the boat I wondered what he was talking about until he took out a small piece of wood, brought in his saw and began cutting something at the back door! Ah yes, the little wooden boat that needed to be made, candles to be placed in it, and a wax paper wind protector all round it. Around 4:30 in the afternoon when the day was fading we put on our warm clothes, our gum boots and placed our flashlights in our pockets and headed down to the edge of the sea. At the pier grown men were carrying their craft, children carried theirs, and one family brought wood to light a big fire on the beach. Soon, as light faded, the boats were placed in the water to set sail with their little candles flickering. Before long all you could see with a faint silhouette of the home made boat and the little inner light rising and falling to the rhythm of the water.

To some this is a wish for the future that is set free, sent out and they wait for it to return to them. For others it is just a fun event that happens at the beginning of every year. Yet for me, as I stood in the damp cold evening, I thought of the need to let go of things held within that are no longer needed. To make space within for new growth, shift old ways and make way for others, and to open the heart and let the wind of the Spirit stir up a deeper part of my being. The candles in each boat spoke to me of the Light that waits so patiently for me to choose to let go, to set free, and to open more to staying very present.

There at the edge of the sea, at the beginning of 2009, as greetings and conversation flowed with members of the community, came the whisper of the Spirit that this year, this next 12 months is about being present, staying here, letting dreams be held loosely. Every year comes in with its own theme and this one held me in the moment, reminding me to embrace each moment, and let that simple truth carry rich and passionate life for me, from me, within me.