Christine Valters Paintner's Blog, page 137

Monk in the World guest post: Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Keren Dibbens-Wyatt's reflections on discovering her inner monk through illness:

Journey to the Centre of the Earth

For eighteen years I’ve been too sick to have a job, so I have had to discover other ways of being and doing, which is good training for the contemplative life! Alternatives, new perspectives are ever there for the finding. For me, someone who rarely leaves the house, being contemplative is like treasure hunting. Deep in the ravines of the presence of God, down underneath the currents of life, in rivers of prayer, there are nuggets to be mined.

Yet the deepest prayer is painfully practical. It has not just happened that I have learned to love silence. My illness has enforced a stillness upon me that is both painful and restrictive. I have had to let it be transformed into a blessing, or perhaps it is more true to say I’ve had to let my seeing be transformed so that I can accept it as a blessing, whatever else it might be. I think that to make a contemplative life marry with the practicalities and struggles of life, we have to learn to look at things with new eyes. Being mystical is never about being ethereal, but is always about being more real, more in tune with what is actually there, not escaping from it or making it more palatable.

As a contemplative writer, my job description is to see and to say, so when God has helped me bring a precious thing up to the surface, it has to be looked at with a human mind and described in human words, as if I were holding it up to the light and examining it, curating the spiritual. It often feels like a search for new language. When God gives me a story or a poem to write, it is like he is showing me the skeleton I have to put flesh on, the frame on which to hang words. It can be hard, painstaking work.

The frustration of wanting now to spend time in silence, listening, gazing and waiting, (though I do more than my fair share of whingeing prayer too) when life has to be lived, is a stretching of the edges of being that I can sometimes barely cope with. God regularly takes me to the ends of myself in this regard and I struggle massively with needing quiet and solitude and yet being married and running a household. But at the same time, this holding of two extremes has taught me so much about what real love is (the kind of love that has to choose others over itself) that this too can be seen as precious – at least on a good day! Love is beyond hard. Being in the world but not of the world is absolutely the most difficult thing for me and yet it is the perfect lesson on empathising with God, who has to deal with unrequited love and unconditional love billions of times over each and every day and still be loving.

God is as real as it gets, he lives in the pain and the suffering as well as “in the pots and pans” as Teresa of Avila and Brother Lawrence remind us. He is not a solitary, distant dreamer, but the one who did not balk at living in flesh amongst us. Such frustration as Jesus felt every day of his human existence cannot be imagined. This sacrifice, not greater than, but teamed with the one made at Golgotha, shows us that frustration, giving our constant yes, running the kids to after-school clubs, listening to friends’ problems sympathetically and attentively, reassuring our depressed spouse, dealing with aged parents, washing, cooking, paying bills, making doctors’ appointments… all the things that are life, but not what we think we want to be doing, these are still places where we must be totally present and willing in order to have “life in all its fullness.”  They can be done with God, alongside God, for God. Then our times of snatched silence, precious prayer, become more, not less. They become deeper for the love we have been able to show. The joining of action and contemplation that Richard Rohr lives and teaches, James’ faith with works, Paul’s gifts with love, this is a pairing that we need to embrace, rather than running from one to the other, always wishing we were somewhere else.

Diving for pearls with God is therefore something I do all day and not just in quiet times. The most contemplative life is one lived, not in some mystical abandon, hidden away from minutiae, but lived within it.  I may not be conscious of the ordinary divulging as much treasure as the times that feel more heavenly, but like Hamlet I no longer trust the seeming of things. God is. Love is. Prayer, contemplation is finding more of him. His secrets and wonders yes, but just as much at the kitchen sink or painfully (at least for me) in the frustration of the pots and pans. All is gift. I know this, yet I also know it is hard. I am not there yet. I’m still on the journey, and it hurts to keep digging down, especially when the interruptions are so frequent. But the treasures are worth it, and the diversions are like thorns on a rose; without them, the experience would be poorer, and far less authentic. In God’s kingdom, the weak sits with the strong, the sharp with the soft, the deep with the shallow and the pain with the pleasure: the human with the divine, the mystery of Christ.

Keren Dibbens-Wyatt is a quiet soul, beginner mystic, Christian contemplative and M.E. sufferer.  After turning forty, she finally found her vocation in writing. The Lord is now leading her deeper into prayer and into his heart, and teaching her how to share the stories, “seeings,” and understandings that he graciously gives her.

Click here to read all the guest posts in the Monk in the World series>>

Crossing the threshold into Lent and the Sacred Seasons

Dearest dancing monks,

John and I had the great pleasure of attending the Brigid's Eve festival procession last Saturday night in Kildare. Over a hundred and fifty people processed with candlelight and lanterns under the waxing moon and a scattering of stars, while singing in chants in both English and Irish. It was quite awe-inspiring.

Then we spent three days in Glendalough (photo above), preparing for a pilgrimage we are leading in March. Such a thin place, full of the beauty of forests, lakes, waterfalls, rivers, holy wells, and ancient stones holding the prayers of thousands.We walked miles and miles tending to the invitation of this turning point of the year as we enter the very earliest signs of spring in Ireland. (If you want to move more intentionally with the seasons, consider joining us for our brand new program called Sacred Seasons 2015: A Yearlong Journey through the Celtic Wheel of the Year. You can read more details at the link, and sample the first mini-retreat for Imbolc for free!)

A special treat for today, a love note from your online Prior:

My Dear Fellow Monks-in-the-World,

With the holy season of Lent almost upon us, Christine and I are hard at work preparing the annual Abbey of the Arts online Lenten retreat. This year’s theme is “The Soul’s Slow Ripening: A Lenten Retreat – Monastic Wisdom for Discernment” and part of the course will include reflections written by me on the weekly Old Testament readings. We’ve chosen to take the readings from the Revised Common Lectionary for the sake of consistency and a better fit with the weekly themes.

I am excited to once again be able to share my passion for the Hebrew Scriptures with the Abbey of the Arts community. I first began truly studying Scripture in college when I joined a non-denominational Bible study group. Later, sacred text was part of my studies, but my master in theological studies is not a Biblical degree. I only really delved deeply into the Bible when my job called upon me to teach it. I knew enough to get by the first year, but knew I had to strengthen my only knowledge and understanding if I were to keep up with my students’ questions. (Not to mention my own.)

Through my study and teaching of the Bible I have found that it is a beautifully textured collection of sacred writings with many different voices and perspectives. And while it is an integral part of our society, I find the Bible is more often misunderstood and misused than it is truly embraced. As some have pointed out, the Bible is a bit like online use of service agreements: very few of the people who click the “agree” button have actually read it.

I hope to bring both a contextual overview, as well as an in-depth reflection of specific texts. To repurpose an old metaphor, it’s important to be able to simultaneously see both the forest and the individual trees at once. We won’t be able to get fully into the grand arch of the Bible’s Sacred History in this Lenten course, but I do hope to be able to give a wider perspective on each of the week’s readings. I also hope to bring each of the readings to life, in their own context. Many of you know, perhaps quite well, the texts covered in the course. However, as familiar as one might be with a passage already read, we are always growing and each text (new or renewed) can offer us new insights. I look forward to sharing my thoughts and reflections with you.

But it isn’t just about what I have to contribute. I love the communal nature of the Abbey’s online retreats. I always appreciate the wisdom of my fellow monks-in-the-world. With each treat, with each day’s lesson, I learn new insights about what is being presented. I hope and pray that you all have the chance to join us and be part of the conversation.

Thank you & God bless!

John Valters Paintner (Prior at the Abbey of the Arts)

If you want an intentional way of moving into the Lenten season, the online retreat is a wonderful way to do this, with materials to reflect on, contemplative practices, opportunities for creative expression, and a lively, warm community, you can choose how much or how little to participate. We have all new material on some of my favorite themes, weaving them together in new ways, and new stories of desert and Celtic monks. Imagine yourself stepping across the threshold in the photo above and entering a world of rich wisdom and practices to guide you on your way.

Lots of wonderful things in this week's newsletter including a report from one of our Earth Monastery Project grant recipients. Read more below and other project reports coming these next two weeks.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

www.AbbeyoftheArts.com

Photo top: St. Savior's Church at Glendalough, Ireland (photo by Christine)

Earth Monastery Project: Sensory Peace Labyrinth

Abbey of the Arts sponsors a small grant program called the Earth Monastery Project. We began the program in 2014 and so far we have funded six wonderful projects which nourish an earth-cherishing consciousness in our world.

It is exciting to us to see the creativity at work in the world and how dancing monks are offering their gifts on behalf of the earth. Our second round of grants have just completed their cycle so for the next three weeks we are featuring each of their final reports to share with you and inspire you to creative action in your own communities.

Our first project is the Sensory Peace Labyrinth, shepherded by Stephanie Bell. Here is an excerpt of her reflection (you can see the whole report below):

The objective of this project was to create an inviting space for contemplative awareness and prayer at Garfield Community Farm (GCF), an urban farm nestled within an otherwise neglected corner of the city of Pittsburgh. The farm’s existing herb garden was converted into an organic Sensory Peace Labyrinth with a permanent mosaic sign to welcome community members. In keeping with the GCF’s original mission, the Peace Labyrinth will help its visitors to cultivate passageways to themselves, God, His creation and each other.

I am thankful and deeply grateful for the ways God’s abundant provision is greater, more creative, exactly what I need, and in those rare moments his provision becomes a space to share life together. I really thought I understood the ways God provides…a roof over my head, food at the table, money to pay the bills, companionship.  Although these are all gifts from God which I do not take for granted…I have been wondering about his abundant provision in the midst of nothing, loss, limits, loneliness, transition, and the unexpected.

Living in a chaotic city, with gun fire around the street, schools on lock-down, rushing from one activity to another, sickness; I noticed the concrete jungle around me was growing. I sensed a nudge to get away, to spend time in creation and with the Creator.  I also sensed that traveling outside the city was not the answer for me, only because I could sense a desire to escape and run from the realities of our broken city and my broken life.  I realized I needed to find solitude in the midst of my mind racing, in light of the brokenness that seemed unamendable. I found myself trekking up to a local quiet green space where I could rest, this seemed ideal. The herb garden at GCF was a sacred space for me to sit and bask in God’s presence.  In the midst of the noisy city, the sounds soon disappeared, the air was filled with herbal aromas, sunflowers in full bloom, and bees buzzing all around, I experienced God, my spirit was touched. From that deep place of abundance in an unlikely “monastery” I was compelled to create and dream. About a year and half ago I wrote a grant that would transform the already placed herb garden at GCF into a sensory peace labyrinth.

Three months ago as I planned how I would take the ideas in the grant proposal to reality two things were true 1) I would have amazing freedom to create, 2) And I would need to work pretty hard to accomplish such as task.  I was thankful for the support of Abbey of the Arts, GCF and knew my husband would help me accomplish this task (since we enjoy working together in this way). Then I found out I was pregnant… Of course my emotions were all over the place.  Wanting to be joyful (wasn’t this an abundant provision?) yet I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss of present dreams, realities, energies that I thought were the path and God’s abundant provision… All around me I was experiencing loss– of work, loss of friendships, loss of energy, loss of co-workers, and loss of community.   I thought this was supposed to be a time of abundance …we are having a baby…right????  And then in the midst of the yelling and crying to God, in the midst of the questions, and struggles to understand why…abundance came…from a text from a friend and another text and then a sincere presence of compassion, from my son Ethan telling me to rest and desiring to care for me, to my husband taking care of the everyday family things I do.

This has been one of the most humbling times in my life.  I am so grateful for the past month in the midst of sleeping a lot, and  leaning into my limits I saw the vision of the labyrinth not only sit in my heart and my mind but in a community’s life and desire.  I’m thankful that the fruition of the labyrinth was not created by hands of two, but of many.  That the amazing freedom I had to create became a space for many to create.  That incredible hours of labor we filled not by my hands, but by a neighborhood—students, partners in ministry and people from the Open Door.  That the once thought one ton of gravel that was moved by hand was actually 4 tons.  The abundance was in the midst of my place of limits—I was free to be, free to trust God, free to hear why this space is so important to so many.

Click here to read the full report of the project>>

Click here to read more about the Earth Monastery Project and make a donation>>

 

Invitation to Lectio Divina: Community – Who is your tribe?

With February we offer a new invitation for contemplation. We are continuing our monthly exploration of each theme of the Monk Manifesto. Our focus for this month is Community – Who is your tribe? The third principle reads:

I commit to cultivating community by finding kindred spirits along the path, soul friends with whom I can share my deepest longings, and mentors who can offer guidance and wisdom for the journey.

We invite you into a lectio divina practice below with some words from Thomas Merton. January 31st was his 100th birthday, so there are lots of celebrations honoring his legacy, and certainly for monks in the world he has a treasure of wisdom to offer:

The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution no to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

— Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island

How Community Lectio Divina works:

Each month there will be a passage selected from scripture, poetry, or other sacred texts (and occasionally visio and audio divina as well with art and music).

How amazing it would be to discern together the movements of the Spirit at work in the hearts of monks around the world.

I invite you to set aside some time this week to pray with the text above. Here is a handout with a brief overview (feel free to reproduce this handout and share with others as long as you leave in the attribution at the bottom – thank you!)

Lean into silence, pray the text, listen to what shimmers, allow the images and memories to unfold, tend to the invitation, and then sit in stillness.

After you have prayed with the text (and feel free to pray with it more than once – St. Ignatius wrote about the deep value of repetition in prayer, especially when something feels particularly rich) spend some time journaling what insights arise for you.

How is this text calling to your dancing monk heart in this moment of your life?

What does this text have to offer to your discernment journey of listening moment by moment to the invitation from the Holy?

What wisdom emerged that may be just for you, but may also be for the wider community?

Sharing Your Responses

Please share the fruits of your lectio divina practice in the comments below (at the bottom of the page) or at our Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group which you can join here. There are over 2800 members and it is a wonderful place to find connection and community with others on this path.

You might share the word or phrase that shimmered, the invitation that arose from your prayer, or artwork you created in response. There is something powerful about naming your experience in community and then seeing what threads are woven between all of our responses.

Join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group here>>

*Note: If this is your first time posting, or includes a link, your comment will need to be moderated before it appears. This is to prevent spam and should be approved within 24 hours.

Monk in the World guest post: Robert Walk

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Robert Walk's wisdom on living as a monk in the world through praying the Hours:

One Monk's Approach to the Office

My initial contact with the life of the monk occurred more then two decades ago when I visited the Benedictine monks of Weston Priory in Vermont.  In a way that was hard to put into words I was deeply moved by the rhythm of their day — the daily office, work, rest, play, etc.  In the late 1990's I spent a week on personal retreat at the Priory during a time of personal, vocational, and faith crisis.  Again I was deeply moved by the rituals and rhythms of Priory life.  Shortly thereafter I made a career move within ministry, transitioning from being a pastor in an American Baptist church to becoming a chaplain in a continuing care retirement community where I continue to work today in the world of God's aging people.  It is a diverse community in regards to ethnicity, worldview and religious affiliation.  Initially and presently I was faced with the issue of how to minister to a diverse community via pastoral care, spiritual formation, and sacramental ministries.

In the summer of 2011 I decided to begin an almost daily Keeping of the Hours/Community Prayer Time in the Chapel where I work.  My intention was to provide a holy space where residents could gather in the chapel or, if because of a lack of mobility, remain in their apartment and participate through our in house cable channel.  While I had heard of the Daily Office before, the concept was new to me.  Was it a spin off of the television show, The Office, or did it have something to do with the work done in an office or study? Of course the Daily Office is, at its roots, the ancient tradition of hours of fixed prayer, reading from sacred texts, and reflection.  So I started out trying different approaches to using this almost daily 11 am Keeping of the Hours, ultimately settling on using the Daily Lectionary from the Book of Common Prayer and supplementing the readings with silent and spoken prayers and written meditations from a variety of sources. In an attempt to be inclusive I varied the approach praying openly in the name of Christ on two of the days (recognizing my own and the facility's Christian tradition roots) and on the other days purposely praying in the name of the Great Spirit, God, and often including readings from Jewish rabbis and authors and other world religions.

In keeping with the sixth monk in the world manifesto statement: “I commit to rhythms of rest and renewal through the regular practice of Sabbath and resist a culture of busyness that measures my worth by what I do,” I have introduced the community where I work to the almost daily practice of the ancient practice of the Daily Office.  In particular I read three readings from the Daily Lectionary, one from the Hebrew Scriptures, and the Epistle and Gospel readings from the Christian New Testament.  Doing so has challenged my own resistance to reading Scriptures that don’t inspire me, either because they are difficult to understand, provide little in the way of meaning for living in the present from my point of  view, or violate my view of God.  In order to lead the community in the readings I had to get myself in gear by becoming a more serious student of the sacred text of the Jewish and Christian scriptures.  I’ve done that and do that by dipping into commentaries I trust, using meditations written by those I trust that focus on the readings, and by utilizing the ancient practice of “lectio divina,” a thoughtful, patient reading and response to the scriptures.

I use a modified form of "lectio divina." I provide type written copies of the daily lectionary Bible readings for those in the group and I type in bold print one of the verses or a couple of verses that engage my thoughts or feelings, words that "shimmer" with meaning, beauty or even cause confusion. Following the verbal reading of the passage I provide personal commentary either from remarks prepared earlier or spontaneously as the spirit/Spirit moves me. Following are Scripture passages,  one from the Book of Judges and the other from the Gospel of John followed by my meditations on those verses:

And Samson said,

‘With the jawbone of a donkey,

heaps upon heaps,

with the jawbone of a donkey

I have slain a thousand men.’

When he had finished speaking, he threw away the jawbone;

(From Judges Chapter 14)

This is a jaw dropping passage.  It continues our encounter with

the violent conflicts that are described and portrayed in

the Book of Judges during an increasing period

of rebellion, conflict, and conquest.  It brings into our

consciousness the reality that almost any object

can be used as a weapon for defensive purposes

or to inflict injury and death on others.

Recalling my childhood Sunday School years, Samson

was exalted for his strength and this miraculous

and "super hero" like slaying of so many.

As my life and faith have matured over the years, and

as we continue to see so many violent conflicts between

nations and individuals it remains past time to elevate non-violent

images from the Scriptures and from those past and present

who incarnate non-violence and meaningful, albeit difficult

communication, to deal with our differences.  Yes,

our jaws drop  at the reading of Samson's escapades and upon viewing

or reading about some of the extrememly painful and violent

events of the day, but our jaws can also be used in the

service of communicating a deeper understanding of what

it means to strive for a deeper peace in the human community.

And then there are Jesus words as he tried to calm the fears of  a royal official whose son lay deathly ill.

Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your son will live.’

(From the Gospel of John, chapter 4)

Our hunger for healing and health remain powerful in our lives.

Jesus reputation for caring and healing had attracted attention

and he was almost the "9-1-1" responder of  his day.

What provides curiosity about this passage is that Jesus doesn't

go to the place where the  boy lay ill

He  offers words of life, instructing the man to return

to his son and to go with the words "your son will live."

Wonderful words of life was the title of a gospel hymn

that we often sang in the growing up years of my life.

I wonder what impact these words and this action had on the

father whose anxiety and worry was full blown?

The arsenal of healing resources in our day and age is abundant–

medicine, therapies of all sorts, surgery when necessary, transplants,

electronic devices, and yet the caring words and touch of humans  from one

to another remain perhaps the most important resource for healing,

whether that healing is full blown or the ability to cope

with ongoing suffering and illness.

The use of the Daily Office as a resource for daily sabbath has been a challenge for me from the stand point of studious preparation, soulful contemplation, and the discipline to follow through with the practice.  The reality that I've chosen to lead the Office in community with others has motivated me to meet the challenge.  In addition, as I use supplemental non-Scriptural writings as a part of the Office, I have come to affirm that the "living Word"of the Great Spirit, God, constantly needs creative contemporary expression, thus adding to the corpus of "lectio divina." As the life of the monk continues to take root in our growing Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks in the world, may our daily tasks be inspired by the sabbath practice of the Daily Office.  The Lord be with you.

Some of the resources I use in leading the Daily Office:

Let Us Bless the Lord…Meditations on the Daily Office, authored by Episcopalian clergyperson, the Rev. Barbara Cawthorne Crafton.


A Book of Wonders: Daily Reflections for Awakened Living by Father Edward Hays


Life's Daily Blessings: Inspiring Reflections on Gratitude and Joy for Every Day, Based on Jewish Wisdom by Rabbi Kerry M. Olitzky
The Book of Common Prayer

Robert Walk is a Chaplain at Simpson House Continuing Care Retirement Community (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA) and a proud/joyful member of the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks.

Click here to read all the guest posts in the Monk in the World series>>

Free Gift for Imbolc and the Feast of St. Brigid

Free gift! A mini-retreat for Imbolc and the Feast of St. Brigid

We are delighted to offer you the gift of a mini-retreat called Stirring in the Belly to help celebrate the feasts of Imbolc and St. Brigid.

We have offered this mini-retreat in the past as a free gift, but this year it has been expanded to include new reflections on Brigid by Christine, reflections on the Presentation in the Temple by John (February 2nd is the Feast of the Presentation), as well as the gift of a new video of a song on Brigid we had especially commissioned for the Abbey by Laura Ash, and Betsey Beckman teaches you a beautiful movement prayer based on this music. This is in addition to the previous resources of poetry, a guided lectio practice (with audio recording by Christine if you desire), and suggestions for a contemplative walk and creative expression.

If this resource excites you, please consider joining us for Sacred Seasons, a new yearlong program through the Celtic wheel of the year we are offering. Discounts for early registration and combined registration with Lent's online retreat The Soul's Slow Ripening: Monastic Wisdom for Discernment.

Feel free to share this free Imbolc resource with others you think might enjoy it!

Click here to download the Stirring in the Belly mini-retreat>>

Upcoming Feast Days (love note from your online Abbess)

“Whose silence are you?”

After Thomas Merton

The single eye of the sun long shut,

world deep asleep like a sunken ship loaded with treasures,

full moon’s fierce shadows illumine the way for miles,

stars glint like coins dropped to the well’s black bottom,

last apple fallen from the tree

in a slush of honey and crimson.

 

I walk barefoot across wet grass,

night’s questions relentlessly wrestling

in my mind’s knotted weave.

I look for answers written by salmon in the stream,

or a snail’s slither of streaming silver.

I prostrate myself at the gnarled foot of the ash tree.

 

River softly murmurs her secrets.

Then the wind departs, taking words with it.

Hush cracks open, and

only Silence

blankets my moss-covered dreams

under the mute howl of night.

 

The long slow leaving of voices reveals

the ancient song of repose.

I awaken covered with dew,

stillness shaken by a single robin.

No longer full of my own echoing emptiness,

I am able to hear at last.

—Christine Valters Paintner

Dearest dancing monks,

Saturday is the 100th birthday of Thomas Merton. Above is a poem I wrote for our icon series inspired by Merton and his love of Silence. The quote on the icon is adapted from the beautiful words he wrote at the end of his book New Seeds of Contemplation in which he invites us to "hear God's call and follow God in God's mysterious, cosmic dance."

This weekend also brings us to the Celtic feast of Imbolc and the feast of St. Brigid. It is a beautiful time to seek silence and listen for the very early stirrings of new life.I know some of you in the Northeast U.S. have had a blizzard these last couple of days, so perhaps the promise that spring is coming soon is a welcome dream to hold onto.

Here in Ireland, I can feel the seeds of spring as the earth continues to turn toward more light in a very visible way since the Winter Solstice. I have noticed birds starting to sing again in the mornings just the last day or two.

John and I will be heading to Kildare for an evening ritual on Saturday in celebration of Brigid, and then on to Glendalough for a couple of days of retreat and planning for our upcoming young adult pilgrimage in March (there is one space for a male participant if you know of someone in their 20s or 30s who might like to be immersed in Celtic wisdom and a beautiful place).

Inspired by this sacred turning of the seasons we are delighted to be bringing you a brand new program called Sacred Seasons 2015: A Yearlong Journey through the Celtic Wheel of the Year. I have wanted to offer something like this for a long time and finally the season feels ripe. You can read more details below, and sample the first mini-retreat for Imbolc for free! Feel free to share this gift with others and consider joining us for a soulful journey through the year together. When you register by February 16th you receive a discount and can join our secret Facebook group to share signs of Imbolc around you and within you.

We have been slowly preparing for the upcoming Lenten online retreat and I am getting very excited about it, with all new material on some of my favorite themes, weaving them together in new ways, and new stories of desert and Celtic monks. Join John and myself for a heart-centered journey through Lent in a community of fellow dancing monks. Whether you choose to participate in the online discussion or not, there is always a lively and heartfelt exchange happening there, and it is a gift to feel yourself connected to it. We do also offer some partial scholarships and group discounts, so gather some friends and move through the retreat together.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

www.AbbeyoftheArts.com

Photo top: Sacred Seasons – Christine Valters Paintner

PS – if you have wanted to join me for a live retreat in 2015, one space in a single room has opened up in our Coming Home to Your Body Retreat April 17-21, 2015 in the Pacific Northwest!

Invitation to Dance: Hospitality – What will you welcome in?

We continue our theme this month of "Hospitality" which arose from our Community Visio Divina practice with the image of a threshold and continued with this month's Photo Party and Poetry Party where we asked what we wanted to welcome into our lives in this new year, perhaps inspired by your word for the year.

I invite you into a movement practice.  Allow yourself just 5 minutes this day to pause and listen and savor what arises.

Begin with a full minute of slow and deep breathing.  Let your breath bring your awareness down into your body.  When thoughts come up, just let them go and return to your breath. Hold your word and this image of "Hospitality" as the gentlest of intentions, planting a seed as you prepare to step into the dance.
Play the piece of music below ("Nearer My God to Thee" by The Piano Guys) let your body move in response, without needing to guide the movements. Listen to how your body wants to move through space in response to your breath. Remember that this is a prayer, an act of deep listening. Pause at any time and rest in stillness again.
After the music has finished, sit for another minute in silence, connecting again to your breath. Just notice your energy and any images rising up.
Is there a word or image that could express what you encountered in this time?  (You can share about your experience, or even just a single word in the comments section below or join our  Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks Facebook group and post there.)
If you have time, spend another five minutes journaling in a free-writing form, just to give some space for what you are discovering.
To extend this practice, sit longer in the silence before and after and feel free to play the song through a second time. Often repetition brings a new depth.

Monk in the World guest post: Valerie Holt

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission for the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Valerie Holt's wisdom on encountering her inner monk on the labyrinth:

A few years ago, I was on a sales trip to San Francisco, working at a convention center across the street from Grace Cathedral.  I was exhausted from my work and searching for a few moments of peace and quiet.  On the second day I stepped out of the convention center for some fresh air and caught sight of the cathedral set up on a hill, beckoning me to cross the street and clear my head.  A posted sign read there was an organ and choir performance that day, the perfect opportunity to decompress.

As I entered the cathedral, I realized I was too early for the performance and heard the organist practicing. The space was cool and dimly lit from nearby stained glass windows. I quietly circled the main space and returned to the entry when I finally looked down.  There at my feet, woven in simple variations of woolen dove grey was a huge labyrinth.  A nearby sign stated it was patterned after the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France, which I had been to years earlier. The sign further described the labyrinth as a meditation tool.  It hinted at secrets of the walk and how levels of awareness were available to the devout practitioner.

I decided to take a ‘crash course’.  I mean how hard could it be to discover the secrets of this walk, it really was only a spiral into the center and right back out. All I had to do was watch my feet. It didn’t have walls, I couldn’t get lost—what could be so secret?  I slipped off my shoes, symbolic cares and worries of the outside world, and stepped barefoot onto the soft woolen carpet.  Quietly, rhythmically I walked the patterned path paying attention to any secret wisdom I might perceive.  My breath slowed, I forgot everything else. I noticed the tiniest things, the dust mites floating in angelic beams from the light of the windows, the now too many passers-by threatening my quietude, even the lilting notes of the organ and how I began to step in time to the music.  After several minutes of focused walking I made it to the center and got even quieter, I was waiting, waiting for the floods of insight, the secrets of the walk to pour forth—and nothing!  Not even a pin dropping. My cynical self was like, ‘whatever, this is such a marketing trick to get people in here!” and quickly wound my way back out—noticing much less and turning my attention to the work I had already been too long away from. (you’ll notice I still walked the path on the way out, not quite ready to give up on it, but not for one minute tricked by the promise of such easy magic) But I was hooked, the puzzle-solver in me—or maybe even the ‘seeker’ had been awakened.

My spiraling journey to center woke something up in me, and my focus shifted with the subtlety of Mary Poppin’s wind from the west. Without even knowing it I had started a quest to unearth what had been buried deep in me for what felt like my whole lifetime. I started to dig, to awaken the secrets promised, whispered, hinted at on that labyrinth walk. I had no clue where they might lead; I just felt a constant tugging to seek the answer.

I went about the business of life and encountered labyrinth experiences everywhere.  I returned to San Francisco and Grace Cathedral, took some workshops including a labyrinth walk, a friend of mine built one on her property, and I would go there often to get ‘lost’ in the walk.  I even got some friends of mine to tear out the weeds in the field behind my house and lay down a huge labyrinth I could walk whenever I wanted.

Here is what I learned from the slow and concerted effort to become an expert at the labyrinth—I know hilarious really, an expert walker, but let my mea culpa at my own ignorance assuage your harsh judgment of me, let’s laugh together at my silly self shall we?  I learned while inside the circle, slowly winding my way ever more into center, all I did was pay attention to that moment.  I noticed an ant hill rebuilt every time I came back around one of the turns, the way I stepped over the thistle pricklies rather than rip them out because the flowers were so pretty, the way I always stopped at the upper end of the curve to stare at the aspen trees, they were growing almost like a runway heading straight up to heaven.  I noticed if I had my headphones on all my self-consciousness floated away, and I was in a world all by myself dancing, rocking, floating my way from turn to turn.

I noticed the patterns of behavior I defaulted to in life, my choices in stepping, circling, engaging, passing, avoiding I would rather take and challenged myself to do something differently. OK, I won’t wipe the anthill out again, they aren’t hurting anyone really are they?  I will rip just one thistle out from the roots because darn it if I haven’t gotten a major sliver in my heel more times than I can remember because I stepped too eagerly over the rock behind it.  I will now lose myself in silence as much as I will in the isolation of the earphones and give up my self-conscious walk because I love how my feet beat on the earth as much as I love how they keep time to the beating of my music’s drum.            …And just like that, secrets are revealed.

It was practicing the walk, not thinking I was an expert, just a walker that set me free from the expectation of the heavens opening and choirs of angels revealing truths,  and I started to learn the secrets of me.

Valerie Holt lives in Salt Lake City as a decidedly non-denominational practitioner of spirit, facilitator and author mentoring her clients at The Lama Farm  where her mantra is The soul of the seeker rises from the ground we break, Dig on Purpose™.

Click here to read all the guest posts in the Monk in the World series>>

The Soul's Slow Ripening (a love note from your online Abbess)

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Dearest dancing monks,

I have had the great pleasure of exploring several new (to us) monastic sites over the last couple of months. We are in the process of creating a second pilgrimage itinerary out of Galway in 2016, as so many of our Ireland pilgrims have told us they want to come back again (we hope to have our 2016 dates confirmed soon!). The abundance of these sites is incredible, so much richness of history and tradition, prayers saturating the landscape. It gives us such a visceral sense of how much the landscape was blanketed by monks. The bells calling them to prayer echoing across the hills and fields. The prayers carried on the wind. Again and again, I feel gratitude for being called to this place.

We are nearing the Lenten season and I am thrilled to be offering a brand new online retreat on monastic wisdom for discernment, called The Soul's Slow Ripening. The desert, Celtic, and Benedictine monks knew that the life journey was more akin to a fruit ripening on the branch, rather than a direct flight from point A to point B.

They shared their wisdom through stories and teachings. Stories like St. Kevin who yielded to the divine unfolding and stood while a bird nested in his palm, laying her eggs. Or St. Brigid who sails her boat to Scotland and when the wind dies down, the oystercatchers come to flap their wings and guide her safely to shore (and the old Gaelic name for the bird is giollabride which means Brigid's servant.)

The Irish monks, in particular, relished the space of threshold, the in-between spaces where we let go of the old and incubate the new, we wait and attend, not wanting to pluck the fruit before its time. The monastic tradition is filled with stories of wisdom coming through night dreams, through embracing mystery, stepping out onto the wild edges of the world, and through connection with creation.

How do we discover this rhythm of "no forcing and no holding back" which the poet Rilke describes thousands of years later in one of his poems? In which he pleads "may what I do flow from me like a river."

Deepening into the wisdom of contemplative practice rooted in these monastic traditions makes my heart sing. I am grateful beyond measure to share it with a community who is hungry for this kind of nourishment. Through reflections from myself and John (who will be exploring the weekly scriptures), lectio divina, contemplative photography, and writing invitations, you will be offered a variety of portals into the experience.

Are you in a threshold space of anticipation or discernment? Is there a call slowly ripening in your heart and you would love practices rooted in ancient wisdom and a community of kindred souls with whom to the journey? Or do you simply long for a meaningful Lenten season?

Join John and myself for a heart-centered journey through Lent in a community of fellow dancing monks. Whether you choose to participate in the online discussion or not, there is always a lively and heartfelt exchange happening there, and it is a gift to feel yourself connected to it. We do also offer some partial scholarships and group discounts, so gather some friends and move through the retreat together.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

www.AbbeyoftheArts.com

Photo top: Pear tree branch