St Placid – Silent Notes from a Noisy Journal, part 4

innerwoven

st-placid-priory.jpg St Placid Priory – Lacey, WA

Six miles of damp, spongy pavement pounded out this morning. Running – the healing constancy of deep, rhythmic breathing. So good in this environment. It’s little wonder that Portland, Oregon is America’s running capital. Every back road, trail, and alley is afoot with runners. It houses Nike corporation and its disciples, of which I am, apparently, one of the faithful. I’m a committed convert to the marriage of time, distance, and pain. 

Baffling to non-runners, it is, in its own way, contemplative space. And, these days in particular, as I struggle once more on the longest road, the one leading toward daily sobriety, it becomes apt metaphor in the slow process of change. 

Hanging like a shadow over it all are those who would pooh-pooh this whole sober-running enterprise, suggesting in my case that it is classic avoidance – the via negativa of…

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Friday Fragmentia Sacra 3

innerwoven

I’ve just returned from a short time away. A fuller version of my silent retreat at St. Placid Priory in Lacey, Washington is forthcoming. Until then, may this Friday be the kind of day where the scale tells you a fairytale and not the truth, you are complimented at least once, and nothing rides up.

Thursday Fragmentia Sacra 4.jpgIn short, where everything brings you joy!

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Spirituality, Imagination, and Pole-Dancing

Dear Rob, I love your line, “The imagination is an essential tool of the mind, a fundamental way of thinking, an indispensable means of becoming and remaining human.”

It only serves to confirm the notion I have held to for some time now… we are not necessarily human beings seeking to become more spiritual, rather that we are spiritual beings seeking to become more human.

Our imagination is one tool we can lean on to accomplish such a gargantuan sojourn.  I luv ‘yas, Bro’!

 

Source: Spirituality, Imagination, and Pole-Dancing

The living days

Speaks directly to the heart – heart language, extraordinaire

Rob's Lit-Bits

You turn and look at me

maybe for the first time

or the tenth, or the thousandth time

only to see what you knew you’d find –

a man looking back, whisker’d, aging,

eyes a little dimmer but still aimed at you.

I smell your morning breath

and think to myself how perfect,

how expected, how perfectly normal

and good and welcome.

The first kiss is always best

in its unnoticed awkwardness –

maybe because of it.

The shear warmth of your body

reminds me of our shared need

for presence and company and comfort

unattainable in the strivings of our days

but remembered in uncounted moments

spread over time and times and time again.

Our sagging bodies remind us of life

lived under common skies, the unexpected usual –

and it settles into me

in a kind of daylight reverie to what is.

We make love or something like…

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Back to the Bible We Don’t Know, conclusion

After attending 4 years of Evangelical Bible College in Aussie, this much I can relate to with a deep, deep resonance… “Bible in the brain, rather than Christ in the soul.” Well said, faithful troubadour!

innerwoven

Bible pic.jpgAs I’ve shared elsewhere, I have a “star-crossed lovers” relationship with the written word. A young Capulet and Montague stare with longing at one another from across the room, and wonder what the next step is. We’ve always managed to work things out, but not without long and moody periods of dust and dearth. It’s always advisable, and spiritually healthy, to change up our routines from time to time if only to shake off the cobwebs of inactivity or apathy. But, my relationship with holy writ often stands in contradistinction to their typical handling.

Throughout all ages, the most common topic which has occupied singers, philosophers, poets, and people in general has been…love, of course. The sheer ubiquity of love songs, poetry, painting, sculpture, and pining readily attests to its centrality in our human experience. If you can easily describe your first kiss, the appearance of your first child, the terror…

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Thomas Merton – architect of the soul

It was shortly after I left the Army in 1979 that I began my search for a bridge between psychology and spirituality. One of the early architects of that bridge was Thomas Merton. I had a copy of Merton’s well-known biography The Seven-Story Mountain but found some of the guidance I sought in other of his […]

via On Spritual Mentors: Thomas Merton — Psyche and Spirit/Richard B. Patterson PhD

A profound reflection on The Widows’ Mitres

From: Contemplations and Meditations on the Public Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ: According to the Method of St. Ignatius; Revised by W. J. Amherst And Jesus, sitting over against the treasury, beheld how the people cast money therein, and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and […]

via HUMILITY: The Widow’s Mite, by A Sister of Mercy — The Value of Sparrows