Christine Valters Paintner's Blog, page 133

The Holy Call of Doubt: See – Pilgrimage of Resurrection through Creative Practice (a love note)

This is the second in a series of eight reflections over the season of Easter on making a pilgrimage of resurrection.

Word for today: See

“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands

and put my finger into the nail marks

and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”  — John 20:24-25

"Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. We joyfully announce it. [And yet] I realize that my faith and unbelief are never far from each other. Maybe it is exactly at the place where they touch each other that the growing edge of my life is." — Henri Nouwen

When we set out on pilgrimage, we often feel full of hope and possibility. When we begin our creative practice, we may feel fully committed to daily art-making. Then life intervenes. We have a difficult day, our car breaks down, the bills start piling up, or we get sick with a cold that is difficult to shake. Or more challenging, someone close to us is seriously ill. A family member starts demanding more attention.

A pilgrimage of resurrection does not mean we deny the reality of life’s challenges and suffering. It calls us to enter whole-heartedly into whatever life brings us, paying attention to the invitation of each moment. Sometimes resurrection feels very far away and we cry out for some sort of proof that life is fundamentally good and that beauty sustains all things. This is why I love the story of Thomas.

Over eleven years ago my mother died quite suddenly. I was with her those last five days of her life in the ICU, in that dreadful and holy threshold space where death beckoned. In the year that followed I was filled with grief at the hollowness that loss had created in me. The second year I had hoped would begin to ease but in some ways was even more challenging than the first. I still had the ache of sorrow but also a deep doubt had emerged in my prayer and reflection. They were the doubts of someone who loved deeply and wanted to understand why death is woven into the fabric of the universe, the doubts of someone angry with God.

The theological framework that had sustained me for many years began to unravel. I had wrestled with this question of suffering and death before, but this doubt felt different. I sometimes felt like I was hovering on the edge of a dark canyon. Sometimes, too, life felt unbearably sweet and beautiful. Both were present in my days. I am grateful that I had the support of my husband and friends, and especially my spiritual director who encouraged me to stay with those places of doubt and darkness. He wisely counseled that moving toward my doubt and staying present was the only way to understand it, to eventually walk through to the other side. I was given permission in our time together to not try and figure out what I believed but to experience what was true for me.

I found being in nature profoundly healing and creative expression essential. The wild spaces of creation – both inner and outer – offered me a place to be with my unknowing, to rest into mystery without having to try and figure things out. Wildness is hard to pin down, that is its gift. It offers us the unexpected when we set aside our expectations about how the world works. I also found art-making to be a profound place of being able to work with my doubts in color and shape, rather than deny them.

The gifts for me of embracing doubt as a spiritual practice have been many. I have grown in my capacity to rest into the tensions of life. I question long-held assumptions. I am more embracing of mystery. Being with doubt takes courage, especially when the world around us wants us to have certainty again.

If we’re really honest with ourselves, in a world where terrible things happen, there must be room made for doubt, for wrestling honestly and fiercely with the essential questions of our lives. And if we’re still being honest with ourselves, in a world where beautiful and transcendent things happen, there must also be room for something bigger than what we traditionally call faith or belief, it is a deeper kind of knowing, one that emerges from blood and bone. Those moments where we finally feel at home in the world and can breathe deeply.

One of the many reasons I love monastic spirituality and am a Benedictine Oblate is I find in this path a call to practice hospitality, humility, contemplative ways of being, a movement toward radical simplicity, and service shaped by love. I don't have to "believe" something in particular, but practice is the heart of things. I can doubt and still practice. Practice is embodied, much the way that Thomas wanted to touch the wounds. Practice helps me to be in touch with the incarnational realities of my life.

Is my practice of the enlivening and transforming power of creativity embodied in how I actually perform the daily tasks of my day? Do I enflesh the things I say I value most?

These are some of the questions which pilgrimage asks us to consider. Art-making is one way to live into an answer.

At Abbey of the Arts, we are inviting the community to make a commitment to practice creativity daily in celebration of my new book being released in May 2015 The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within (Ave Maria Press). Please join us (details available at this post).

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD

Click here to read this post at Patheos and share with others>

April 11: Pause – Pilgrimage of Resurrection(A Creative Journey through the Easter Season)

Word for today: Pause



The monk in the world knows that holy pauses are essential for discovering the meaning of our experiences. There is no map. We can only drop deep into our hearts to guide us through our next steps.

—Christine Valters Paintner, The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within

Reflective Question: Reflective Question: Where do you find space for silence and solitude so that you can listen to the whisperings within?

 

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice today. (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim
Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

April 10: Touchstone – Pilgrimage of Resurrection(A Creative Journey through the Easter Season)

Word for today: Touchstone



We need practices to act as touchstones so they can sustain us during the journey. They help remind us that the journey will take us beyond our narrow visions and connect with the sacred ground of being. We open our hearts and minds to a more intimate connection to the One who created us and in the process we start to discover our created purpose.

—Christine Valters Paintner, The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within

Reflective Question: What intentional practices, (e.g. art-making, meditation, chanting, yoga,) could you commit to in order to help cultivate peace in your soul, and help anchor you when the seas of life grow stormy?

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice today. (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim
Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

April 9: Discovery – Pilgrimage of Resurrection(A Creative Journey through the Easter Season)

Word for today: Discovery



Art-making as pilgrimage helps us to understand the arts as a process of discovery about ourselves and about God. When we enter the creative process with the intention of listening for the movements of the Spirit, we discover new insights about ourselves and God.

—Christine Valters Paintner, The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within

Reflective Question: Can you allow yourself to view your art-making as a meditation practice, and in this way let yourself be led by the divine impulse within? Can you leave behind your preconceived ideas and inner critical voices, and enter the unknown in the hope of being transformed?

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag  #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.)
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim

Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

Monk in the World guest post: Asther Bascuna-Creo

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Asther Bascuna-Creo's reflections about the vow of conversion (conversatio) in Benedictine life:

Always we begin again – St Benedict

On the weekend I went out for a walk with my husband and little boy. It was a beautiful morning, the sky was blue and made an even deeper shade of blue because of the lush greenery in my surrounds. It was a beautiful neighbourhood, and we have chosen well where to establish a home.

During our walk however there were at least three houses with a ‘For Sale’ sign. Chris and I pondered at the story behind this sign. What was it that made some decide to sell their home?

Last night I had the opportunity to arrive at an answer when I saw my neighbour in front of her house. She too had a ‘For Sale’ sign on her lawn. She was tending to her garden, and I felt ashamed at the state of mine in front of hers. She had taken care of her home lovingly all through the six years that we have been neighbours.

I enquired about the sign and I thought I detected regret in her voice when she answered, “Because we have to.”

I was struck by the brevity of her answer, like she didn’t need any more words, and also by the familiarity of it, like it could have come from me. It could have been the very same line I uttered 10 years ago when we packed our belongings and the sum of our life into three luggages and two boxes headed for Australia. Though we came willingly, I know how it feels to have your feet planted firmly in two different places – one onwards to the future, and the other one reluctant to let go and take a big step.

A street separated me from my neighbour but I felt we understood each other without needing to cross the distance with our words. As we both went back to our gardens I wondered whether I should have said more, and strived harder to offer comfort. I wanted to let her know I know how it felt to lose a home. But there was also something else.

I wanted to tell her that while you can easily lose a home, so too can you gain a new one. You do not really leave the old one behind. While you don’t physically bring it with you, the life you have made there is something you carry with you forever.

That is part of the cycle of life: the impermanence, the continuous changing and shifting, the constant movement.

As we stand at the precipice,

As we ponder on the next step,

As we hesitate on the cliff of change,

So too do we exalt at each rise and fall.

So too do we rejoice at each losing and gaining.

And while we may mourn at the end,

So too do we delight as we begin again.

Always we begin again.

Asther-Bascuna-Creo lives in Melbourne, Australia and works as a content editor. She is also a freelance writer and a mother to three children. When her husband was ordained in November 2014 as a permanent deacon with the Archdiocese of Melbourne, she assumed another title – a deacon's wife. She loves how all of these roles feed into her creative process and how they lead her to the path of discovery.

April 8: Yes – Pilgrimage of Resurrection (A Creative Journey through the Easter Season)

Word for today: Yes

The feast of the Annunciation remembers Mary’s own pilgrim journey of saying “yes.” She walked into the unknown with only her trust in God to carry her…..What we are not told in the story is the long interior journey of the heart Mary went through before she said yes. This is where our imagination must enter the story and make it our own.

—Christine Valters Paintner, The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within

Reflective Question: Can you imagine Mary pondering the possibilities and weighing the options before reaching her decision, resisting her “yes”, even while she felt compelled to surrender to the will of the Divine? Where have the annunciations in your life come from? Who were your angels who came calling?

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice today. (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.)
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim
Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

April 7: Call – Pilgrimage of Resurrection (A Creative Journey through the Easter Season)

Word for today: Call

This call to embark on a rigorous journey of reclaiming ourselves and our relationship to the divine often comes without our bidding. There are many reasons we might begin an inner pilgrimage. Perhaps we’ve experienced a great loss: a job, our health, a dear friend, a sense of identity, financial security, or a marriage. We know we can’t return to life as usual.

—Christine Valters Paintner, The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within

Reflective question:  What call has summoned you to set out upon your journey to transformation? Have your life circumstances forced you on to a journey you would rather not take? Or is this pilgrimage a welcome summons?

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice today. (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.)
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim
Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

April 6: Intention – Pilgrimage of Resurrection (A Creative Journey through the Easter Season)

Word for today: Intention

A pilgrimage is an intentional journey into this experience of unknowing and discomfort for the sake of stripping away preconceived expectations. We grow closer to God beyond our own imagination and

ideas.

—Christine Valters Paintner, The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within

Reflective question: In what ways might you begin to question and challenge the deep seated expectations, assumptions, beliefs and attitudes underlying your life? How might setting out on a pilgrimage transform your inner vision and perspective?

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice today. (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.)
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim
Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

Easter Sunday: Rise – Pilgrimage of Resurrection through Creative Practice (a love note)

Word for today: Rise

Dearest monks and artists,

Lent is such a powerful season of pilgrimage through the desert, calling us to return to God with our whole hearts. We arrive at Easter eager to celebrate the reality of new life out of death, but sometimes forget this is another, even longer season, rather than a single day of celebration. What does 50 days of practicing resurrection look like? What would it mean to embark upon another pilgrimage to the heart of our own creativity in collaboration with the Great Artist at work, the one who brings newness from the old and discarded?

The story of Easter morning is such a story of surprise and complete reversal of expectation. Two of the disciples and Mary go very early to the tomb only to discover Jesus’ body is missing. They are deep in grief, then confused, and perhaps even angry that the body has been moved. Like all threshold moments of our lives, there is a powerful call here. Where you expect to find death you suddenly discover the evidence of death is gone. Where you expect to discover the broken body in the tomb you encounter one who has been transformed, but do not recognize it right away.

Jesus appears to Mary but she does not see him at first. In her grief she holds powerful assumptions about what has happened. She grasps onto an image of her beloved friend which no longer matches the reality. This encounter is Mary’s moment of call as Jesus sends her to witness to the disciples. She is being ushered on a new pilgrimage. The trajectory of her life is altered by this moment. I am captivated by the image of pilgrimage as a metaphor for our human journeying. Not just the physical journeys we make to outward places, but to the interior places of the heart, the new landscapes we are called to explore. Can we allow our own trajectories to be oriented in a new direction?

Often the call arrives to our own lives unbidden. Something happens which we did not expect and we need to shift our perspective to open our eyes to this new possibility. Sometimes it is an unwelcome event like death or illness. Sometimes we seek out a new adventure in our lives. Either way, a threshold is a liminal space, meaning in between places of security and knowing. On the threshold we are called to release what we thought we knew and our desire to control what is to come. It is an incredibly vulnerable place to be.

Jesus tells Mary, “Do not hold onto me.” Do not grasp at this new wonder. Approach with open palms. Be ready to receive the gifts being offered. Know your life direction may take you somewhere unexpected.

I am reminded of one of my favorite stories of the Irish saints. It is said that St. Kevin was praying with arms outstretched and palms open each day. On one morning a blackbird lands in his palm and starts to build a nest. Rather than grasping or withdrawing his hand, he holds it up for the days or weeks it takes for this new life to be hatched. He received the gift offered to him no matter how uncomfortable. He says yes to what arrives into his life unbidden.

The call of Easter is this simple invitation: to step forth across the threshold, to release all you thought you know, to hold your palms open, to say yes to what comes.

Do not hold too tightly to what you think the outcome should be. Let yourself be surprised. Release your expectations and be turned inside out. It is in the places of profound unknowing that we let ourselves enter into Mystery. The resurrected life is at heart a great and mysterious process. It is not something we can understand on logical terms, it is only something we can live into and experience.

One way to practice this is by making a commitment to a creative practice. I like to describe art-making as pilgrimage. When we step into creating without agenda or plans, it is a process that leads us on a journey of discovery. We must lean into the threshold place of not knowing how something will turn out. We must risk being vulnerable.

Creativity can teach us to step into the threshold, hold ourselves open, and receive what arises (rather than what we think should happen). It is a powerful way to practice resurrection of daily life. You do not need to travel far outwardly to make this kind of pilgrimage.

This is the first in a series of eight reflections over the season of Easter on making a pilgrimage of resurrection.

At Abbey of the Arts, we are inviting the community to make a commitment to practice creativity daily in celebration of my new book being released in May 2015 The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within (Ave Maria Press). Please join us (details available at this post).

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD

Click here to read this post at Patheos and share with others>>

 

Next steps:

Let the word, quote, and question inspire your creative practice today. (Download the list of daily words here.) Use the hashtag #soulofapilgrim when sharing on social media.
Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group to share your art and writing with others.
Name your commitment to creative practice in the comments at this post (and enter the drawing to win a free copy of The Soul of a Pilgrim.)
Share this post with others and invite them to participate (they can sign up here)
Order a copy of Christine's newest book  The Soul of a Pilgrim
Walk the Ancient Paths: Join us on pilgrimage to sacred landscapes>>

Monk in the World guest post: Sherri Hansen, MD, OblSB

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Sherri Hansen's reflections about her Benedictine bracelet:

I’ve been a Benedictine oblate for five years which has been the most profoundly grounding practice to me spiritually. Oblates, for those who may not be familiar with them, are drawn to the 1500 year Rule of St. Benedict and strive to live out its principles of obedience, stability, and conversion of faith in their daily modern lives. Other core values include hospitality and balance in work and prayer life. It is relatively easy to honor these sacred principles while immersed in the daily contemplative life of a monastery, but it becomes much more difficult while out in the busy, hurried world we live in. The challenge becomes to take time out to be with God, and practice stillness while faced with work deadlines, traffic jams, family demands, and the unpredictable needs that direct our attention away from being present in each moment and with God.

Last spring, I came across a bracelet created by the company, “My Saint, My Hero.” It is a corded bracelet that features tiny metal beads imprinted with the medal of St. Benedict. I was drawn to it as a way to remind me of my spiritual practices each day. I purchased it, put it on and haven’t taken it off since.

Despite the minute size, the medal is rich with detailed symbolism. The front of the medal shows St. Benedict holding his rule in his left hand and the cross in his right. Encircling it are the Latin words “Eius in obit nester presenter muniamur” (May we be strengthened by his presence in the hour of our death!).

On the back, Benedict’s cross is inscribed with the first letters of a rhyming Latin prayer “Crus sacra sit mihi lux! Noncom draco sit mini dux” (May the holy cross be my light! May the dragon never be my guide!). The letters C S P B in the angles of the cross stand for “Crux Sancti Patris Benedicti” (The cross of our holy father Benedict). At the top is the Latin word for peace “Pax,” and around the perimeter the letters V R S N S M V – S M Q L I V B, which are the first letters in the words of an ancient Latin prayer of exorcism against Satan and evil. I don’t wear it however as a magical charm for spiritual protection, good luck, or good health.

For me, the bracelet is a constant reminder of who I am and gently reminds me of my values and the Rule that I have studied and strive to live out on a daily basis. I am reminded to take time to complete one task or thought before starting another. I am reminded to be as present as I can in everything I do, from the most simple, mundane tasks of washing dishes, or paying bills, shoveling unending piles of snow in Wisconsin, to weeding and digging vegetables in my garden.

In my profession of a psychiatrist, I am reminded to practice patience and see the face of Christ in every patient I see, no matter how difficult and challenging. I have found myself fingering the metal imprints on the bracelet while sitting with a patient several times reminding me to pause and reflect before speaking or reacting quickly. I see the metal gleam the medals on my wrist as my hands move across my piano keyboard and I am reminded how my music is a prayer to God. I feel the bracelet’s nylon cords with the beaded ends gently brush across my wrist as I do a forward fold on my yoga mat and am reminded again and again to gently exhale. Every action then becomes a silent prayer and an offering.

The bracelet has held up well to showers, sweat, swimming, and clothing snags. Knowing the impermanence of things, I suspect that time and elements will eventually wear the nylon cord away. I hope though, by then, the values will be ingrained upon my heart and soul.

Sherri Hansen, MD, OblSB, is a psychiatrist in private practice, a Benedictine Oblate, a church musician and composer, and a yoga instructor and passionate gardener in Madison, Wisconsin. To learn more about Sherri and her music visit: www.sherrihansencomposer.com