Category Archives: Spiritual

August 8, 2016 · 10:42

Did I Ever Want to Know This?

My sister and brother-in-law were here to visit weeks back.  She and I have much in common.  We love gardening. We love little animals.  And we both suffer from  ailments that set us planted on our knees begging for Uncle sometimes.

Screen Shot 2016-08-08 at 9.24.33 AM

She explained that she had gotten her DNA tested recently and that her findings have helped her to understand her difficulties better and how she has been able to implement action to her betterment.

Screen Shot 2016-08-08 at 9.54.10 AM

I thought that was pretty cool.  So I did the same thing.  Did I have any idea of the door I was opening?  Nope.  Actually my findings were not a huge surprise.  After all, I have been living with all those “numbers” for 56 years, so I am somewhat familiar with their personalities.  I became familiar with my blond hair and brown eyes a few years back.

What was magical (or scary) was that all those numbers confirmed many things that I already knew.    And the many things I did NOT already know.

I think I thought that much of my “stuff” was environmental.  Or something.  Why cant I drink a cup of coffee without my nervous system freaking out?  Why am I not able to deal with medicine well?  Why do I go through bouts of mild (or not) depression?  Who dun turned me into an alcoholic?  Who was that bad guy/girl?  WHY AM I SICK ALL THE TIME?

I heard a scripture verse on the radio yesterday that has rung beautifully in my ears since:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.        2 Corinthians 12:9

I LOVE THAT.  He is here with me ALL the days that I am weak.  I rest surely in that.   I take great comfort.   I want His power splayed all over the top of me.  And His grace IS sufficient.  On the days when I ask for it.  Some days I forget to ask.

Knowing my DNA results did not fix any of these things.  But it gave me huge insight into those questions.  I don’t have to ask WHY?  Why me?  anymore.  The answers  to the question is this:  Because. “I SAID SO” (Ooops. My moms gene sneaking out of me.)  This is who you are.  In  large part, this is who you were born to be.

Huge blessings, I was born to be.  Wonderful, beautiful girl I was born to be.  Into a great, loving  family I was born to be.  Sickly?  Yes.  But there are millions of numbers attached to me.  What more could I ask?   So complicated.  So fragile.  How can I spend time complaining with all those numbers wanting to keep me upright everyday?    There are a few broken numbers I’ll admit.  And even some pretty scary things looming.  But for goodness sake, who is not suffering in this world?

Our  new little grandbaby had her baptism yesterday.  It was beyond precious.  The cycle of life overwhelms me.  SHE overwhelms me.  It was picture perfect with family and friends (we missed you Charlie, Sam and Lauren)  celebrating the entry of her little life into the church.  Immediately after being blessed with the water and oil, she literally flopped into a slumber from the exhaustive wait.  It was like the event caused her to pass out.  She is now safely and snuggly in the embrace of Christ.  Whew.

The weather was beeeautiful.  The party was perfect.

IMG_3080

I pray that she got the best of my genes.

IMG_5252

When we were slipping into bed last night, Pops said that days do not get better than that.  I agreed.  Days do not get better than that.  Life is not without suffering. I keep trying to convince myself of that.  We are born with it in our bones.  But the perfection that we get glimpses of between the shards make it ALL worth it.

Even if I don’t have a memory of it in twenty years.

It is all about this moment.

Peace,

Karen

 

9 Comments

Filed under Spiritual, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

June 26, 2016 · 13:11

Who Tells Your Story?

“Who lives? Who dies? Who tells your story?”

“Who keeps your flame? Who remembers your name?”

Them be powerful words.  Written by the genius who wrote the Broadway hit musical, Hamilton.

Screen Shot 2016-06-26 at 12.37.24 PM.jpg

I am not a Broadway buff.  I am not a history buff.  I am not even culturally engaged really. But Pops gave me tickets to the Broadway show a few months back.  I had seen a few trailers on tv and it looked intriguing.  The original cast is winding up its first year and I was a lucky one to see them before handing over the baton, including Lin-Manuel Miranda, the genius writer, and leading actor.

There is something striking about this musical that has struck me and many others.  It swept the Tony’s.

Maybe its  hip-hop meets 1776.  Maybe its the diversity of the cast.  Maybe its the tiny little  subtle nuances throughout the whole production that strike yours and my heart at different intervals.  Maybe it’s the depth of humanness displayed.  Maybe it’s America trying to absorb the history class they slept through in High School.

Who tells my story?   Hmmm.

Who carries my flame?

Screen Shot 2016-06-26 at 12.17.46 PM.jpg

Will my flame be too burdensome to carry?

Screen Shot 2016-06-26 at 12.24.50 PM

 

 

What is my story?  Does it matter to you?  Does it matter to anyone?  I have been reflecting on it lately.  Well.. since I have been trying memorize the whole soundtrack.  It is that awesome.

I know we all have a legacy that is left at the feet of our family, friends, community and for some,  far wider.    What is that legacy?  Money?  Children and Grandchildren?  Careers and talents?  Integrity?  Our sins and mistakes?   Our physical traits?  Our quirks?  Our habits?  Wow.  It could be anything.  And everything.

Sometimes I sit back and look at my art and the other efforts I deem important and wonder if this will mean a hill a beans when I am gone.  What are the sum of my parts?   Who will keep my flame?  Some people would believe it doesn’t really matter.  When you’re gone, you’re gone.  I am not of that belief.  I believe we are here for a mere breathe but the sum of our mere breaths are vastly important.   (Look at Hamilton.  His mere breath got himself on the face of  an US note.)   Every breath counts.  Every last one of them.  We have a huge opportunity to spread our love here.

I listened to the Hamilton song with my son, Charlie.  He told me that HE will tell my story.  He asked me what part of my story is important to me?  If I could be there to tell my story, what would I want said.  That is a good question.  A really good question.  If I had to give him a jump off place, I’d say:

In all things, she tried desperately to love Jesus………..

If you get a chance, go see Hamilton.

Peace,

Karen

2 Comments

Filed under Art, Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

June 13, 2016 · 11:47

Hen For a Best Friend?

A dear Canadian farmer friend who keeps me updated with the current events of the chicken  world  touched base today.  He and I were wannabe -chicken -farmer -dreamers years back and we both have made our dreams of chicken poop and blood orange egg yolks a reality.  His dream expanded far wider than mine and he is going to town on his farm in Canada. His dream is his livelihood.  Mine is my hobby.

DSCN0399.JPG

Farmer Doug

He sent me the following story of a young sailor guy who is sailing the world with a hen.   The sailor  desired an animal companion rather than a human. Gee, I wonder why.   He settled on a hen.  It is my guess you cannot imagine why in the world he would choose a chicken for a sailing mate.

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-36475672

Please  open link to take a gander at his priceless photos.  Precious.

It is  my opinion that chickens get a bad rap.  They are stupid animals they say.  Well…I beg to differererer……Its all relative.    What would you expect given  their heads are the size of a cherry tomato?  Of course, we cannot compare their intellect with ours.  Is that what those people are doing?  Can we please look at the rest of their character attributes?  Intellect ain’t all there is, sista.

My chickens are gentle.  They chat with me when I enter their house. And they ALL  have a little to add to the conversation.  Personalities vary just like ours.  They know when I am coming to treat them and when I’m not coming to treat. They wait patiently for me to feed all the other animals.

IMG_9538

They walk quietly in single file line to their treating ground.  I could learn a thing or two from our “stupid” chickens.

IMG_0055

Chickens live in the moment.  They are honest about their moment.

They hoot and howl their eggs out.  These guys work HARD for your Saturday morning omelet.

They quibble and squabble away their differences.  No harm. No foul. No lasting resentments.  Unless of course there  is a weakling  lurking about.  I never said they were perfect.  Maybe that’s why the sailing guy chose only one hen to sail instead of a buddy system.

As with any being, if you love them, they can in turn love back.   If you give them room to grow, they will flourish.   If you keep the  creature locked in a cage  physically, mentally or emotionally where they can’t stand on their little legs, they can not blossom. They will lack the love and luster.

Every night after dinner, we abandoned the dirty dishes and run to  the swing to watch the chicken show.  There must be  some redeeming qualities in these little guys if we invest our evening entertainment hours in avian performances. Maybe I have the intellect problem.  Not the chickens.  I’ll have to think about that.  Or not.

They require no showers before bed time. No teeth brushing.   They march right on to their school bus (roost) at dusk  without being asked and lights out.   I do need to train them to shut lights.

IMG_4147

Could I go boating with one of my hens?  Oh yes.  If I liked boats.  Can I take her on a jaunt around the world in my pickup?  I’d love to.

 

Long live the hen.

IMG_0001.jpg

Peace,

Karen

 

 

 

3 Comments

Filed under Farm, Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , ,

June 2, 2016 · 20:16

Naked. Nothing. Simple.

Many years ago in a land not too far away there sat two couples in a diner at two a.m. munching on something I am positive was not healthy.

Screen Shot 2016-06-02 at 3.47.58 PM

Not sure it was this diner but I am going to guess.  Same town.  Same era. 

The conversation turned serious for a minute when one young woman wanted to know what we were doing there.  “No, I mean, What  are we REEEALLY doing  here?  What is our purpose? ”  The other young woman, being me, dug deep for a profound answer that would knock the rest off their seats.  We were going to answer that question that has been in circulation for oh… since the beginning of time. One of the guys who sees things just as they are said, “I know exactly why we’re here.  Because we’re hungry.”.  We all laughed and the subject was changed.  Nothing was solved but I would put money on that each of us today could  say where and when that 1 minute conversation took place.  About 25 years ago.  Why do I remember that?

I have pondered that question over  the years.  Is it really as simple as that?  Or is it more complicated than that?

Ahh,  the olden days.

Fast forward to this summer.  I have been studying some spiritual things in nature.  The question has come up again.  Especially now that we have our very own first grand baby, Joan Marie.

IMG_0467

In my “spiritual things in nature” investigation, I have concluded that this little precious baby in her 2nd day of life is doing it better than I.

We define ourselves by what we do.   I am an artist.   I am a wife.  A mom.  An educated woman.  A gardener. Sorta.  An animal lover.  Blah. Blah. Blah.  I could go on but I would faint from boredom.   I have created this image of myself that I spend my days trying to live up to.  Exhausting.   I make lists upon lists to make sure the image is upheld.  When I go to bed at night I subconsciously check my list to see if I accomplished the tasks needed for the world to believe the self-image that I created for myself.

Isn’t honesty brutal?

Dang.

My  recent discovery is that when I was  born, like our precious Joan, I was already everything in God’s eyes.   It is a place of utter simplicity.  Not adorned or decorated with my created self images.  Naked and nothing.  Perfectly made and fully created.  “It is a place before having done anything wrong or done anything right”, says Richard Rohr.  A wonderful author of spiritual things (in nature.)

Pure.

State of “be”ing.  Not a state of “do”ing.

As I move along in life, I don’t want  to compare myself with others and their gifts or calls anymore. Richard Rohr also says, “All I can give back to God is what God has given to me – nothing more  and no less.”  Hmmm.  That is so good.

I have a great example that should neatly tie this baby up. My mother-in-law, Jo, who our new baby was named after, use to tell me every summer to make sure to let my kids just BE.  Don’t schedule  their hours up.  And when I think about it now….What she meant is …    Let them be who they are.  Who they were created to be.  Let them use only their little minds to figure out who they are.  Let them run through summer being nothing.  Naked.  Simple.  God will show each one of them who they are.   And that is all they can give back to Him.  Such a miracle.

DSCN9482.JPG

IMG_0824

DSCN9277.JPG

Oooh. She was right.  That Jo, she had more wisdom that I can say.   Especially when it came to children.

What I want to say and may be having a time trying is this……I am beautifully, lovingly made. I  have a purpose.   A simple and wonderful purpose.  I was born with it.  It is a gift to each of us.  I can take the self-made burden off my shoulders.  What is to be is already within me.  Just let it be and let it flow.   Let it ride.  No need to contrive.   I am not my own invention.  Naked.

I want to shout out to my son, Eric, and his beautiful wife and mother to my grandbaby, Emily…. Thank you SOOO much for naming your daughter after that great woman, my mother in law.  You have awakened her memory in me and I will think of her every time I look at your daughter.  I am so  grateful for that. A gift you have no idea.

IMG_1427

We miss you Grandma! 

Peace,

Karen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12 Comments

Filed under Spiritual, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , , ,

January 22, 2015 · 22:01

Fill ‘Er Up.

Today, I attended a relative’s funeral.  This will be the ninth family funeral in three years for me.  Seems odd, doesn’t it?  It does to me.   Some were to be expected.  Some not.  Even before this funeral, I had been giving  this life/death thing  a lot of thought.  I have been accused of letting my head wander places that most heads would not  and, of course, it seems to have wandered that way again.   The joy in me doesn’t dwell too long  on life ending because I feel  certain that there is a life of eternal bliss that will follow this. I rejoice for those who go before me.   I will admit also, that I struggle in this world and often times feel I have no place here which leaves me daydreaming about what is to come.   I suffer from insomnia so I look forward to one day taking a very long nap.  And I can’t eat many foods that most people enjoy, so I look forward to an eternal mountain  of cookies when I enter heaven too.   I told ya.  My brain gets on the wrong train sometimes.

Cookie mountain

 

So where did it wander to this time?  Memory Bank.  Making deposits.

DSCN8149

 

While we live, we possess an  unbelievably complicated gift of a memory bank.  We each possess one and it is full up.   Both of my parents suffer/ed from forms of dementia.   I am keenly aware of the gift of our memory bank.   And what a gift it is.  As I take my daily stroll through the woods, I can pluck out a memory from yesterday, or 45 years ago.  I can ruminate on it for a fleeting second or really dig in.  Maybe even end up on a couch over it.  In an office.  With someone listening intently about my precious memory.   Which I have many times.  Memories are not all good.  Each one makes up   who I am.  Good or bad.  Happy or sad.

But you know what?  My memory is mine.  It is very personal.  Very intimate.  I own it.  Our memory banks cannot go bankrupt(except with the dreaded disease) .  There are thousands, probably millions of them  at my disposal.  We can bask in our memories.  When you think about it (as deeply as I tend to think) it is  incredible that we are blessed with such a rich  deposit  of data that can be flashed before our eyes in the second of an adrenaline rush.  Or an aroma.  For me,  a song will send me back to a place that I can literally smell and feel.  Sometimes the stirring of a memory can make my heart hurt.  Just from the yearn for the long-lost time.

Life is really amazing to me and  I like looking deep into it because it’s all I’ve got.   And what a precious, wonderful, hard life it is.  I have very special memories about each of those relatives I have lost recently.  I can bring them around at will.  That is one heck of a good idea.

Peace,

Karen

 

6 Comments

Filed under Health/ Nutrition, Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , ,

November 1, 2013 · 07:30

Try, Try As I might.

My plate is full and I cannot keep up.

Today and yesterday, I installed my 2nd panel for Marian University. Whew.  Taxing event.  But I had good help  (Thanks MC and Holly!)  and it is done.

2 down.  3 to go.

IMG_6481

IMG_6489

IMG_6510

IMG_6522

IMG_6533

Came home to very rainy beautiful fall evening.  The leaves were spectacular on the drive home.  I looked up our peak last year and it came a full two weeks earlier last year.  That was normal.  Peak the last day in October is not normal.

Happy Halloween.

IMG_6543

We only have three trick or treaters.   I dont know if they are tricking us or treating us.  Or are we treating them?  Or…. I never understood Halloween.  It falls in the same category as amusement parks and parades for me.  Maybe I don’t know how to have fun.  That’s it.  I’m no fun.

IMG_6549

My mosaic project is a large project for me.  Largest ever by far.   My farm duties, studio work, normal chores are spreading me quite thin.  I am thankful that the mosaic job is not a permanent add to my daily agenda. But am sure glad I have it.  It is all my passions rolled into one.  Art, God, and nature (The nature part is the fact that St. Francis, who the work is about, is a patron saint of nature. and I love him and nature).  He is the bomb.  This work is affording us to visit his hometown this coming Christmas in celebration of him, my work and Marian University.  My job will end and I will be able to resume painting and creating at the pace I am used to.  Everything I love to do will be given more attention.  Including this blog.  I have so enjoyed writing here.  Many days are spent in solitude, which I love, but I also love being connected.  This blog gives me that opportunity to connect.  Especially to those I miss so much from the ol’ hometown.  I am going to suspend writing until my mosaic is through so that I can fully pour myself into my work and  not feel pulled so thin.   I don’t even have any tomatoes put away for the winter  the pulling has been so severe.

I will see you next year!  I love you.   I  pray that God blesses us and keeps us until  next year.  And forever.   He is so good I can’t stand it.

Photo on 11-1-13 at 7.16 AM #2

See you soon!  I will miss you.

God bless,

Karen

1 Comment

Filed under Art, Farm, Spiritual

Tagged as , ,

October 2, 2013 · 12:25

How Far Would You Go?

News on TV is fear driven,  panicky,  and biased.  I try not to  allow myself to be swayed by the media.  Sitting for any length with the media is neither good for my stress level or my soul.   I like  the facts, ma’am, then I will find a quiet place to ruminate on the facts.  When you think about it, a news fact only takes a few seconds or minutes at most to relay.  When the media reports for hours on end, we are receiving far more than facts.  It is like an injection of  fearful stress.  

The weather channel.  Online.  They have cool reports of neat things that I wouldn’t ordinarily know. I can enjoy them and they do not affect me like the news media.  

Like wonderful cloud formations.  Or one of a kind underwater photos.   

Last week they took me to monasteries around the world that literally hang off cliffs.   And now I ask again….How far would you go….for silence and rumination?  Would you hang onto a side of a cliff?  Would that be far enough away?

Do we need to go to the ends of the earth to find that silence?  Is it the only place that we can go to get far enough away from it all so we can hear ourselves think?  Better yet.. so we can hear God speak to us?  Hear Him help us understand all being heard in this really loud world?   So He can help us sift the worthwhile from the worthless?

I don’t know about you, but I am easily scared.  If I listen to the news media for any length of time, they accomplish their mission.

taktshang2

hengshan-hanging-temple

interesting_places_monastery_of_the_holy_trinity_meteora_greece2

DSCN2981

p1020332

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

simonopetra-monastery-built-into-bluff-maynard-owen-williams

It would be worth my while to travel to any one of these sacred places.  Not to mention,  breathtakingly cool.    But I still question…do I need to, to get what I need…which is peace, perspective, quiet, and answers.

In my experience?  No.

God hears me everywhere.  And God takes me where I am.   AS  I am.  Thank goodness, cause there is always some business that He needs to address with me.    I cannot hear Him unless I make myself available.  Going somewhere quiet IS necessary for me.  Not sure I have to go to the ends of the earth though.  I can’t concentrate on anything when there is something else going on.  Can you?

Going for a quiet walk works.  Sitting in a Chapel works.  Sitting in a room by my self works.  Staring out a window works.  Actually,  sitting at stop lights work.   I suppose it is just a matter of getting out of the world for a bit and stepping into His world is all that it takes.  Tell me, Lord.  Show me, Lord.

Have you ever noticed people who like silence and quiet have a calm, joyful quality about them?   I admire that.   It just occurred to me the reason may be that through their silent and quiet time, they are hearing God and receiving His graces to be calm, and grateful.  Wow.  I want that.

No matter our circumstances, we all can reach that same place with Him.  Any one of us can find a quiet place.  It is just a matter of choosing to do so or not.

God bless,

Karen

2 Comments

Filed under Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , ,

September 23, 2013 · 10:25

Tribal Dance

IMG_6123

Our poor guineas have been trying for months to do the hatching thing to no avail.  They lay a clutch of eggs, then the doggies come along and snatch them.  Laying them out in the middle of the yard will do that.  They finally got smart and went over to  the wood’s edge on the outside of a fenced pasture.  The dogs can get there but they dont know it.

About 6 weeks ago, they began laying their eggs.  They lay everyday until they think they have an ample supply, then they pick odd lady out to sacrifice the next thirty days of her life to sitting on those eggs.

IMG_6125

Fifteen was the magic number.  I kept thinking…I don’t know if I want 15 more guineas runnin’ around here making all that noise.  And shooing them out of the barn at night so they don’t poop all over my barn floor.  Only goats are allowed to do that.  By george, that guinea sat on those eggs every minute except 10 or so minutes in the late of day.   She’d get off and the other 4 would chase her around saying..get back on that nest.  We told you…..  She is Cinderella and they, the wicked step sisters.  I imagine she did not even lay any of those eggs herself.

Glanders Wedding-694

Last week, we had 5 hatch.  I went out one morning and saw little things wiggling underneath her.  I snatched them up so they would have a chance at survival.  With all of our dogs, cats, etc.  They would last about a minute.

IMG_6198

Four guineas.  The fifth came later in the day.  They are growing like weeds.  Healthy as can be and will be out running around when they get older.

Cinderella sat on the eggs for about 3 more days and said..I’m outta here.  You guys want more keets, you sit on them yerself.   10 have been left unattended.  Since she stopped sitting, they have either died from hypothermia or they were not fertilized.  What I have decided is that the internal clock  or gestation of the mommy guinea is 30 days and she can detect that when that has come and gone she must be done, whether the eggs are done or not.  I, quite frankly, am glad.  I only got 5 new guineas and that is plenty.

Another sort of tribal dance…

I received all of Eric, my son, and his wife, Emily’s wedding photos last week and need to go through them.  I will  post some special moments of that torrential affair next time.  One photo makes me laugh or cry, I don’t know which….

Glanders Wedding-685

I think Eric’s and my feet tell the story here.  It was “our” dance.  It was a song that was interwoven in my past where our parent-kid relationship was concerned and I thought of my kids with a  hearty passion every time I heard it for years.  I would sing it with verve  and gyration where ever I was.    The day was stressful with the rain and when I began to hear the song, I sang and danced circles around my son.  I celebrated the hearty passion that I feel about him and my two other sons.  Eric was taken aback.  Didn’t know quite what to do or how to answer back.  I don’t blame him.  There may have been some feelings of embarrassment on his part.  There were days in my past I was capable of embarrassing my children for all the wrong reasons.   When I begin to feel bad about how I may have made him feel, I stop myself and think….this time my “out of my head” response was a full-blown celebration from my heart that could not be contained.  Not even in front of 200 people.  I was out of my head.   In love.

Glanders Wedding-686

Glanders Wedding-680

Glanders Wedding-687

Glanders Wedding-677

He says….Holy Father, let this be over.   God love ‘im.

I can’t wait to get through the 1000 photos and pick the very favorites to share.  When I shared with someone about the weather conditions at our wedding and how that changed the expectations I had for the wedding, they said…Wait til you see the photos.  They will tell the real story.  They do tell the real story.  The wedding was gloriously us.

God bless,

Karen

4 Comments

Filed under Farm, Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , ,

September 4, 2013 · 21:39

Organic Hoosier Apple? And Thomas Merton?

The beauty queen of the Shieling.

The beauty queen of the Shieling.

Oxymoron?  I have been told there is no such thing as an organic Indiana apple.  We began out orchard from scratch 6 years ago.  This year was the first time blossoms presented themselves.  We decided to let the trees do their thing.  No sprays.  No powders.  No nothin’.  Just a dose of wishing and a little prayer.   Well.  Well.  Well.  Here we have an apple.  A most gorgeous one.

IMG_6189

Not a bad size either, if I do say so.    I will admit that this is by far the most beauteeful one of the bunch.  But the bunch tastes pretty wonderful.   We plan to cull them next year to hope for larger apples.

We have picked 4 five gallon buckets full.  Not bad for the first season.  And you are wondering….are they diseased?  Is there such thing as an organic Hoosier apple?  They are not diseased.  Nothing too terrible got to them.  They have this black splotchy stuff on them.   I have read that the black splotchy stuff is harmless and it washes them apples up nice and pretty.  Just like the store makes them.   I bet there are children (and adults) that think apples grow in the back room of the grocers.

Organic apples in Hoosierland do indeed exist.

End of apple story.  Have you heard of Thomas Merton?

images-11

He was a Trappist Monk priest who lived as a hermit for many years at The Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky.  Wikipedia describes him as a poet, a social activist, and a student of comparative religion.   He was all those things but much more.   He is known for studying and embracing many other religions in an effort to bridge social/religious gaps between other religions and his, Catholicism.  An ambassador of sorts.

images-10

He has written many really good books.  Look his work up if you haven’t already.

Thomas can be considered a “cool dude”.  He is by far not the stereotype priest or monk.  And has had much controversy surrounding his life because of his unconventionalism.  Life before monkhood took him places that made him very uncomfortable.  Same places I (and probably you too) have been.   He did not feel a part much of the time and felt out-of-place in this world.  Check.  Check.  Been there.  Alone in his thoughts often.  Check.  When he encountered life that included God, he began to feel more himself.  Though rebellion in a sense remained with him.

His writings have taught me about contemplative prayer and embracing solitude.  Contemplative prayer is a state, not too unlike meditation, that  you enter into with God and just be.  In His Presence.  I am with you, God.  Wholly.  I am sitting with You.   Opening a door to let your relationship grow on God’s terms and not yours.  By staying silent, we are inviting God to do the talking and not us.   It is a powerful form of prayer.  It is,  by and large,  the type of prayer that has so greatly enriched my relationship with Him. How can I hear Him if I am doing all the talking.  I really want to know what He has for me.  What He has to say to me.  And if I face the truth, what I have to say in any matter doesn’t work or matter or interest me.  Really.

He spent years in communication with other religious leaders and finally was able to participate in an interfaith conference between Catholic and non-Christian leaders in Bangkok in 1968.  He spoke at the conference, went back to his hotel to rest up and was electrocuted stepping out of  the shower and died at the age of 53.  Controversial even in death.    There are numerous books written by him that are wonderful, inspiring, and educational as well as an autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain, which is also a great read.

Apples and Thomas Merton are both food for the soul.

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

• Thomas Merton, “Thoughts in Solitude”

God bless,

Karen

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Farm, Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

August 11, 2013 · 19:13

Liberalism. Conservatism. Liberation.

b8f1ace85b98f51ab8c220fc545ca296

For as many people there are out there, I am fairly certain that there are that many definitions for liberalism and conservatism.  Just as I am sure faith has as many definitions.     I don’t think about either one often.  I know what my value and belief system is and I think that is all I need to know.

Last weekend , we were out with friends for dinner.  And a great one it was.  The other Mrs. and I were talking deeply profound matters while the Mr.’s were talking about…hmmm….. I don’t know.   She asked me if  I thought I was a conservative Catholic.   I said yes.   She disagreed.  She thought I must be liberal because I am not  judgmental  of the people who have another value or belief system than I.  Then,  I began wondering what the heck.    We interrupted the probably not so deeply profound conversation of the men and I asked Pops if he thought I was liberal or conservative,  thinking I may be off base and don’t know what I am.  Like I said, I don’t think about it often.  He said that I am most definitely conservative.  That’s what I thought.  You got it.  I am blond alright.

I do not share my political views often since it would often come across as me vs. you.  Or me good, you bad.  Or me smart, you not.  In today’s atmosphere,  I do not mean to participate in division tactics.   I will not begin here either.  But it seems to me that we,  as a culture,  are more interested in judging each other rather than respecting our differences in our values and beliefs.

I have been all gobbly gooked since this conversation.   I pose a few questions out into the thin air.

Am I wrong if I value something that you don’t?  Or vice versa?  Should I be chastised?

Is it my job to judge your values and beliefs? Or your job to judge mine?

Am I NOT doing my job if I  don’t make a judgement?

Is it even important to form an opinion on every livin’ thing?  Maybe let one slip by unnoticed.

Does judging cause separation?  Division?

Because I feel strongly about something and I don’t talk about it,  does it mean I really don’t feel strongly?

If I don’t speak out my values, am I considered tolerant of anything?

Is it enough to live out my values and beliefs?  Does that speak louder than loud words?

 Is judging each other too big a job for any one of us?

It is all very curious to me.  I believe you think one way and I think another,  but what now?  Nothing now.  That’s it.

Enough on liberalism and conservatism.

Liberation.

We have lived in this house 2 years.  The builder put a door hitch on the inside of the closet.  Because of the door hitch, I have not been able to open my underwear drawer more than three or four inches for two years.

IMG_6102

No kidding.  Who knows what is in that drawer?  if I can’t reach it in the narrow opening, it doesn’t get reached.

UNTIL TODAY….

IMG_6106

I took off the hitch.  Excuse me, I should be saying latch.  I took off the latch.  Or hitch.  My underwears drawer is open.  After two years.    I have been LIBERATED.

That is LIBERATION, baby.  That IS liberation.  Yeah.  That is li……………..

God bless,

Karen

4 Comments

Filed under Spiritual

Tagged as , , , , , , , ,