Christine Valters Paintner's Blog, page 162

Join the Abbey Facebook Group for the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks!

Hello monks and artists!  We are opening up a Facebook group for the *Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks* and ongoing conversation (facilitated by Wisdom Council member Melissa Layer but I will also check in as I can).  We want it to be a place of connection and ongoing support for the contemplative and creative journey, and we will see what evolves.  Part of being a monk in the world is stepping into the possibilities and seeing what happens!

To join you can go to this link (you will need to be logged into your Facebook account to see it) and click "Join the Group" and one of us will approve you. It is a closed group to give us a little privacy, but all dancing monks are welcome!

Wisdom Council: Guest Post from Trish Bruxvoort Colligan

I am excited to share another Wisdom Council guest post, this time from Trish Bruxvoort Colligan. I met Trish first virtually several years ago when she was blogging and felt immediate kinship to her presence and spirit, not to mention her beautiful music which I often use in retreat settings and in several online courses. It was a gift to finally meet her at the Spiritual Directors International conference in San Francisco where she and her husband Richard were offering their musical gifts. Trish is working on a new album called Wild Acre, which I know is going to be gorgeous because I had the privilege of hearing some of the songs as part of the Women on the Threshold program she helped to co-create with me last fall. Read on for Trish's reflections about being a monk in the world:

Recently, I’ve been thinking about wildness.

When I ponder what it means for me to be a “monk in the world” and an “artist of everyday life”, I am drawn to the word noticing. A simple act of paying attention to what’s in front of me: creative impulses, dreams, emotional and bodily sensations. What’s peeking shyly at me from around the corner? What timpani is drumming me awake in the night? What themes and words am I finding woven and re-woven into the fabric of my days? What patterns are present in my relationships?

That which I am able (and willing) to notice over time often heralds something larger at play. Even (perhaps especially) the things that seem disruptive or adversarial at first blush have a way of becoming trusted midwives to what is being born from the waters of my life. Lately, it is wildness that’s been showing up.

I’m in the midst of recording a new CD, called “Wild Acre”. The central lyric in the title track – which also sets the tone for the entire collection – is this: “Keep a wild acre alive in your love.” To allow a margin of mystery and unknown around the edges of a vision, plan or dream is to trust that there is more to be born than can possibly be predicted. “Your love” may speak to anything which one is passionately engaged: a primary relationship, a creative endeavor, a project or event, a community, or ones spiritual life or relationship with self.

Certainly, there’s been wildness about this recording. Setting out, I envisioned this project as wider than myself – an intentionally-set landscape beyond my solo capabilities, requiring me to lean into community to bring it forth. I also wanted to be mentored by, to practice the very wildness I’m singing about. I dug into a landscape only partially tamed: there was a vision, of course, with seeds, tools and paths toward fruition; and around it, a margin of wildness holding space for mystery, beauty and grace to startle and arise at ripe moments. I sensed people, places and ideas yet to crack open; scripting the finest detail would be to harden over the soil of their emergence. Here we are, then, plans in one hand, wildness in the other, dialoging, dreaming, shaping as we go.

It’s worth noting that wildness is not wilderness, which refers to landscapes untouched. One scientist describes wildness as “the voice of a multitude…working together within a system.”

The Monk-Artist in me has noticed wildness smiling back at me from around many corners of my life. Take motherhood, for instance. My husband Richard and I are parents to our twelve year-old son Sam. The wilds of adolescence have taken up residence in our home… and boy, has it been an adventure!

Sam’s entering a stage of rapid development in which he’ll ripen and awaken in startling ways. To witness him exploring his presence and influence and trying on new ways of thinking and putting himself out there has been exciting, and our conversations are newly rich and thoughtful. Eager as I am to see where the next few years will take Sam (and his parents) in his discoveries, I am also grieving the boy he was and our more tender mama-son connection. Maybe because we’ve always been so close, and adolescence is a journey to greater independence, finding our new groove has not always been a smooth ride.

One recent misty morning found Sam and me ready to board a paddleboat on a small lake in upper Michigan. As we prepared to push off, I felt the familiar impulse to instruct, as when he was younger. Was his life jacket buckled? Did he remember how to steer? Could he manage paddling with his fractured toe and air cast boot? Would he think to secure the rope around the boat’s cleat hitch once he loosed the boat? All fine things to take note of, but perhaps a bit exaggerated for a generally conscientious twelve-year-old boy.

I had my sights on the center of the lake for an easy float on the quiet morning. Sam’s determined expression and curious eyes suggested he had other designs on the voyage. I noticed the agitation in my chest and the growing tension between the urge to direct versus wanting to let go when the though of wildness floated to the surface.

I decided to be a silent observer, to let Sam go with his eagerness and take us where he wanted to go. As I sat quietly in the passenger’s seat, Sam steered us toward a neighbor’s floating dock. Round and round the dock we went: approaching, examining, reversing and coming in from another direction. All the while, he never uttered his objective and – though I was starting to form an idea of his goal – I didn’t ask. I simply watched him, in the end, helped when he asked for my assistance, and took a few pictures for posterity. His aim? To line up the boat’s ropes to the cleat hitches on the dock so we could together stand atop it and raise our hands to the sky. Just because we could. Once that was accomplished, Sam was ready to climb back into the boat, dock it at the cottage, and head indoors to check in with the rest of the crew.

Had I overly directed Sam or infringed upon his wilder boating notions, we probably would still would have enjoyed ourselves. But I’m pretty sure we would have missed out on Sam’s paddleboat navigation investigation and his delight of discovery. As my luck would have it, Sam’s learning came in handy a few days later when Sam came to my rescue as I floundered near the dock, unable to steer the boat to its rightful place.

If these teenage years unfold in our house as they do in homes across the globe, the tides will rise and fall in unexpected ways. As much as I am able, I intend to keep a wild acre alive here.

Click here to find out more about Trish's work>>

Creating Local Tribes of Dancing Monks

With the advent of the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks and the way this community continues to grow, I am finding myself called to listen to ways the Abbey can support you in creating your own small groups and gathering circles with others in your local community, for in-person dancing monk delight.

1. On all self-study and selected community online classes I am now offering a small group discount when you register together with others.  My hope is that this might encourage you to gather a small group of kindred spirits together and have a structured format of material to reflect on and we have such a wonderful variety of courses available.  The current discount is 20% off when 2 people register together, 30% off for 3, 40% off for 4 and above. Please contact me by email to request an invoice.

2. If you already have an Abbey-inspired group with whom you gather together – whether around one of my books (I have heard of many Artist's Rule groups forming in different places) I would love to hear about it, how your group gathers and reflects together, and what further support you might need.  Please email me!

3. At some point in the future I would love to create a forum online where you can connect with other monks in your own area seeking a tribe of kindred spirits to help facilitate those connections.  It would need to require a low level of administration, but if anyone has specific ideas for how this might work,or if this is something that would feel supportive to you, please let me know.

4. I am also beginning to consider creating a resource that would offer support for small group facilitation skills, and offer you a place to begin when gathering a new group together including how you might structure your time, share facilitation, and discern the focus of your time together.  This will take some time to create, but I am feeling much inspiration here.  If you have any suggestions or specific things that would be helpful, please send me a note.

Introducing the Earth Monastery Project

This week I want to introduce a very special project that has been incubating for a while.  It began as a desire to share the spirit of generosity at the Abbey in a more visible way while also making a statement about causes we believe are vital.

The Wisdom Council, John the Prior, and I bring you the Earth Monastery Project.  This is a new small grant program designed to inspire and nourish you in creating projects rooted in contemplative wisdom and creative expression, that are of service to the community and the earth.

How necessary it is for monks to work in the fields, in the rain, in the sun, in the mud, in the clay, in the wind: these are our spiritual directors and our novice-masters. They form our contemplation. They instill us with virtue. They make us as stable as the land we live in.  —Thomas Merton

Take earth for your own large room and the floor of earth carpeted with sunlight and hung round with silver wind for your dancing place

—May Swenson, (excerpt)

The Earth Monastery Project is a small grant program funded by a combination of sources:

5% of the net income from Abbey online classes
Donations from Abbey community members like you
Income from the Amazon Associates program (when you purchase something at Amazon using our affiliated links)

The EMP is a partnership between the Abbey and carefully selected applicants, who will receive resources to complete a Project which nourish an earth-cherishing consciousness and a cultivate a vision of the earth as our primary monastery.

Our hope at the Abbey, is that with a combination of funding, community support, inspiration, and a place to share the fruits of your work, this will be another way for the Abbey community to thrive and serve and offer witness to one another of what is possible on the monk and artist path.

The purpose of the Earth Monastery Project is to cultivate a culture of generosity within the Abbey community and to support one another with the resources needed to inspire new ideas.  We believe that small, thoughtful, and carefully stewarded programs can make a big impact on the world. Together we will celebrate the work completed and share it with the wider Abbey community so others might be inspired to try similar projects themselves.

For the first round of applications, we will be offering 2-3 small grants, of up to $1000.

Three main project areas:

Contemplative: develop a project which nourishes a contemplative awareness and presence to creation. For example through starting a community or church program which teaches people spiritual practices that connect them to the earth.
Creative: develop a creative project which draws on the media of writing, visual art, drama, dance, or music.  For example, creating a series of artwork or poems which honor the earth and finding ways to bring this to your community.  Maybe creating art out of recycled materials and crafting an accompanying reflection process or in response to a specific environmental issue such as the bee colony collapse.
Soul care ministry: develop a project which brings more earth awareness to your ministry of spiritual direction, chaplaincy, counseling, etc.  For example, gathering a tray of natural elements to engage clients in creating altar spaces, finding ways to bring your ministry outside into direct contact with the earth.

(Projects can also be a combination of 2 or 3 of these areas, the suggestions above are only possibilities, so you are encouraged to think beyond these.)

Click over to the Earth Monastery Project to read the application process. Applications will be accepted from September 1-October 31, 2013 and the winners of the first round chosen by December 1, 2013.

Please share this with friends who might be interested in applying.  Perhaps you know someone with great creative vision, who needs a little empowerment this kind of project could provide.

Please also consider making a small donation to support this project by visiting this link (bottom of the page) and help inspire your fellow monks to make a real difference in service to the world.

And the most beautiful part is that after six months dedicated to the project, those awarded will share what happened with the Abbey community as well.

Following an Ancient Call (a love note from your online Abbess)

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Following an Ancient Call

What if we could listen

like the great salmon

who goes about its ordinary life

when suddenly something shifts.

It does not come as a thunderous

revelation, but a quiet knowing

you have been preparing all

your life to trust.

The path lived until now no longer

satisfies but the path ahead

seems thousands of miles

long, and your womb is heavy.

There is no refusing this ancient call,

and to know ourselves as not alone,

but part of generations before us who,

like the salmon, share in this inheritance.

You now hear only the rush of energy

that comes with starting the long

return home and the pull in the

blood which cannot be ignored.

I like to imagine the salmon

swimming across the ocean

(as if that weren't daunting enough)

and after that endless voyage

it must face the mouth of the mighty river.

Does she hesitate, even for a moment?

Does he want to turn back to less turbulent waters?

But there is something ripening in their bellies.

Perhaps your list of pressing tasks is still long.

Leave it there fluttering in the breeze,

uncrossed, undone, unfinished,

to do the only thing you can do

which is to swim,

to be carried by the waves and tide

and to know when to let the current carry you

and when to fight it with all your strength,

and to know even this yes will

demand more than you were willing

to give: your life for the new birth,

what you think you know for

the ancient call home.

—Christine Valters Paintner

Dearest monks and artists,

The photo above is of Lough Corrib, where you can take a boat ride out to Inchagoill, a small island with remains of a monastery connected to Saint Patrick (one of our sites for the Monk in the World pilgrimage). The lake is connected to the Atlantic Ocean by the River Corrib which runs through Galway.  Salmon return here to spawn, traveling from as far away as Canada. I remember hearing that and imagining what would call them so many miles across the sea to come home.  And then I remembered I had followed this very same call just the year before.

I had a powerful dream a couple of weeks ago:

I am in Galway and I meet with someone who can help me find my spirit animal. He asks me what I think it is, and without hesitation in the dream I say "bear and salmon." He asks why and I respond, "because the bear hibernates to regain its power and the salmon follows the ancient call back home." He tells me that his work is done, he doesn't tell folks their animals, but elicits it from their hearts.

Dream wisdom is an important part of my spiritual practice and I have shared some of my significant dreams in the past.  There are, of course, many layers here. Perhaps the one shimmering most in my heart right now is the relationship between bear and salmon.  In the Northwest, especially northern Canada and Alaska, during spawning season you see the bears standing in the rivers catching those jumping salmon into their mouths.  There is an intimate relationship there between them.  Here in Europe, the bear is considered to be one of the oldest totem animals, and a reminder of the power of following nature's cycles, drawing nourishment from within.  In Ireland, the salmon is revered as a great figure of wisdom, this journey it takes back home to give birth and release its own life.

These animal energies remind me of two archetypes that are very active within me: the monk and the pilgrim.

The monk in me feels the call of moving inward.  My inner monk knows the deep wisdom to be found in rest, in slowness and spaciousness, in not letting the productivity of the world keep me running ever faster, that the only person who can say "no" and stop and open up to the eternity of this moment, is me.  Like the bear, I know the power to be gained from following my natural rhythms, rather than those the world around me demands.  I know how much more sustainable my work is and how much more joy I discover in it when i come from a place of replenishment rather than depletion.  And I know how powerful of a witness it is to the world to live this way.

The pilgrim in me feels the call of moving outward.  My inner pilgrim feels a longing to travel, to walk across new landscapes, to find myself the stranger so that everything I think I know can be gently released in favor of the deeper truth only revealed in the wandering.  Like the salmon, I know the power of the inner voice that says you must leave behind everything you know and travel far across the ocean to a place called home. I know the miles and miles of ease and flow and the mighty rivers which test my strength and resolve, and I know that to refuse this endless longing is to refuse the life and radiance that are mine.  And I know that death, the release of things I once held dear, is an essential part of the new birth.

This summer has been very much about nourishing my inner monk and hermit.  Having time and space to linger over life has been full of so much grace.  To have the freedom to ponder how I want to shape my life's rhythms and what is truly sustainable has been sheer gift.

As I begin readying myself for fall, the pilgrim is calling me to pack my bags. In the months ahead I will be traveling to Germany to accompany a group into the wisdom and heart of Hildegard of Bingen. I will travel back to my beloved Northwest United States to teach and reconnect with close friends, while also visiting Louisiana and Chicago to gather with fellow monks there.  Later in the fall will bring me for the first time to visit Norway to lead a retreat, and then onto Austria, with some extended time spent in my beloved Vienna.  And in all of these places I will listen for how the landscape shapes me, how the journey deepens me, and listen for the call of home right there and then in its midst.  I will invite the monk to be with me all the way along, as a reminder of the deep well that sustains me.

Much of my work this summer, as I have taken a sabbatical from teaching, has been about bringing new visions slowly to birth and articulating the work of the Abbey in more precise ways so that when people arrive to this virtual space they will know themselves as kindred spirits.

Two newsletters ago I shared with you my updated bio page and last week I introduced you to the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks (and I just loved how many of you wrote back to you to tell me "I am a dancing monk!"). This week I am thrilled to share with you a new program: Earth Monastery Project where we are supporting you in nourishing an earth-cherishing consciousness in your local communities.  You can read more about by visiting the link.  We hope this is another way of inspiring creativity, contemplation, and compassion in the hearts of this monk community. Please consider sharing this with friends near and far and making a small donation to support the creative unfolding.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE www.AbbeyoftheArts.com

*Photo: Lough Corrib in Co Galway, Ireland

PS – there is one space open in the Sacred Rhythms Writing Retreat this October 9-13, 2013 at the Grunewald Guild in the Northwest.  See the web page for more details and let me know if you want to join your fellow dancing monks!

Wisdom Council: Guest Post from Kayce Stevens Hughlett

This week, our Wisdom Council guest post is from my dear friend and colleague Kayce Stevens Hughlett.  Kayce and I first got to know each other years ago when she attended Awakening the Creative Spirit in its early extended version and then again when we offered it as an intensive. Friendship bloomed from there, along with co-collaboration in several forms, including leading a supervision group together in Seattle, co-leading a retreat on the archetypes, and our recent pilgrimage to Vienna (and of course her contributions to several online classes).  Read on for more from Kayce:

“I know artists whose medium is life itself and who express the inexpressible without brush, pencil, chisel or guitar. They neither paint nor dance. Their medium is Being. Whatever their hand touches has increased life… They are artists of being alive.”

—Frederick Franck

Bold as it may sound, I am proud to declare that I am an artist of being alive.

Getting here has meant a not-always-easy journey of navigating my cultural and familial upbringing that began in Oklahoma. I was raised with a narrow definition of acceptability and an overarching theme that good girls (and boys) don’t toot their own horns, draw attention to themselves, or step off the prescribed pathway (i.e. color outside the lines).

For me to even say ‘I am an artist of being alive’ is a rebellious statement where I come from, but it is one I know to be true deep within the marrow of my bones.

Being an artist and a rebel (and yes, a monk) is about dancing on the edges where others dare not go and discovering there is bursting, abundant, overflowing life within. It’s about transforming work into play and witnessing joy in the midst of sorrow. It’s about playing with all the colors of the spectrum and creating one’s own definition of beauty.

I laugh aloud when I hear the words “a monk in the world” ascribed to me. I feel so far removed from the visions of my childhood: long brown robes, bad haircuts, austere life style, profound quiet, always at peace, and never an unkind word. Breaking (and expanding) that mold is what drew me to Abbey of the Arts. I met Christine before the Abbey was officially named and knew the first time I wrote a French Pantoum[1] that I was destined for this new order of monkhood.

I was raised with messages about narrow paths and the impracticality of art and psychology. Spirituality was something for “those people” and “true religion” was only practiced by individuals with a “personal relationship with Jesus Christ.”

Being an artist and a monk (and claiming them for myself) has required me to throw out the definitions of my childhood, examine the insecurities of my lifetime, and replace expectations with curiosity and acceptance. It’s involved blowing up the box I was raised in and pulling the pieces back together into the glorious God-created uniqueness that is me.

Over the past several years I’ve felt the call to move more deeply into my work of living what I love and offering it back out into the world. My vision is for the world to live true and authentic lives—lives where we move through our days guided by that still small voice within… the place where we know that we know that we know.

I am an artist of being alive. Yes, that is my call. Being alive means experiencing life fully and deeply… from the tiniest noticing to beauty and pain of epic proportion. Considering the discomfort of a cracker crumb in bed or the splendor of a hummingbird’s breath; touching the warm brow of a sick child and feeling the ache of an imprisoned loved one. To fully live, we are called to experience life moment by moment.  My calling is to live out those moments and share them with others, so they may be affirmed in doing the same.

Recently, I woke up with a song chorus playing in my mind and the following words tumbled out. In the spirit of introducing myself to you, it feels fitting that I share them here.

“What do I stand for?

What do I stand for?”

(lyrics by Fun)

I stand for compassion and kindness. Fighting the good fight and having courage to step into the places I fear. Bravery is being afraid and still moving forward.

I stand for laughter, love, and light.

Doing my best each moment, even if my best doesn’t look like anyone else’s idea of best.

I stand for petting kittens, spending time in meditation, and journaling with a furry cat sprawled across my pages.

I stand for eating less and moving more. Getting rid of clutter—physically, spiritually, and mentally.

I stand for allowing my children to fight their own good fight even (maybe especially) when it’s painful for me to watch.

I stand for embracing the moment, embracing each other, and seeking forgiveness even when it seems impossible.

I stand for dream-making, play-making, Life-making.

I stand for being honest, making mistakes, falling down and getting back up again and again.

I stand for creativity in word, action, and deed. I know we also create conflict—that’s why I stand for making mistakes, seeking forgiveness, compassion, kindness, and being brave.

I stand for Love in all shape and form.

I stand for play, imagination, and connection. Connection with God, self, others, the world.

I stand for listening quietly and acting boldly. For finding my own voice and listening intently to hear yours.

I stand for waking up each morning and asking what I stand for and beginning from there.

For me, this is what it means to be a monk in the world and experience life as an artist of being.

Namaste.

[1] A magical form that turns mere humans into brilliant poets.

Visit Kayce's website to learn more about her>>

Wisdom Council: Guest Post from Amber Andreasen

This week, our Wisdom Council guest post is from the lovely Amber Andreasen.  Amber has participated in several Abbey online programs including Way of the Monk, Path of the Artist and Practicing Resurrection through Creativity and Archetypes (which she mentions in her reflection) and has participated in our live intensive Awakening the Creative Spirit.  She has also been taking on a greater role in Abbey online retreats as a soul care presence and support for our participants. Read on for Amber's reflections:

It used to be

That when I would wake in the morning

I could with confidence say,

"What am 'I' going to do?"

That was before the seed

Cracked open.

Now I am certain:

There are two of us housed

In this body,

Doing the shopping together in the market and

Tickling each other

While fixing the evening food.

Now when I awake

All the internal instruments play the same music

"God, what love-mischief can 'We' do

For the world today?"

~Hafiz

For me, being a Monk in the world and Artist of life is all about making love-mischief for the world with my Beloved.  I remember vividly my introduction to the idea of being an Artist of life.  Journey back with me to April of 2011 where I was about to participate in Christine’s Practicing Resurrection Retreat.  The topic for Week One was to be the archetype of the Artist, and I was brimming with excitement.  I had been reuniting with my inner Artist, and visions of paints and canvases danced in my head as I imagined my artist-self bursting forth and going wild with expression.  THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE WEEK!!

And, it was.  But…not in the way I had imagined.  My somewhat romanticized vision of the week took an unexpected detour as the evening of Holy Saturday was spent in the “tomb” of the emergency room with a friend, who was then admitted to the hospital.  As strongly as I felt the desire to give myself to the retreat, I also felt the desire to stay with her in the hospital.  This is where Easter Sunday and the next 11 days were spent.

Come Easter morning, I was sitting next to her bed as she slept.  Taking advantage of the pocket of stillness and quiet, I opened my laptop and entered into the retreat.  What timely words my inner Artist received: “The Artist takes the materials of life and makes something beautiful from them.  Even in the midst of pain and suffering, the Artist can craft meaning… Each new day we are greeted with the energy of the Creator as morning unfurls a blank canvas of possibilities that await us.  With each movement of our body, from the opening of our eyes to the way we lift and rise out of bed, we are creating our path in the world. This is the energy of the Artist.  The one who takes what is at hand and forms something anew.” 

These words gently invited me into a new way of living out of my inner Artist that week as robustly as I had dreamed.  I had been given the materials of life with which to create in the very midst of pain and suffering.  The hospital room became my blank canvas of possibilities.  I was filled anew with excitement at this opportunity to bring beauty to this hospital stay.  My inner Monk joined in, and together, Monk and Artist danced for those 11 days.  Extending kindness to the hospital staff.  Wiping a brow wet with sweat as pain would build and then break.  Helping my friend out of bed and to the bathroom.  Keeping vigil at night.  Offering presence as I sat beside her, holding space for her pain, both physical and emotional.  The smallest, most mundane tasks became opportunities to bring beauty and presence, and each day became one where, in the words of Hafiz, I could awake and ask, “God, what love-mischief can we do today?”

While those days were tiring, they were also very enlivening.  There was a simplicity to each day as each moment was allowed to unfold.   Despite the severe pain that ushered us into those 11 days, both my friend and I are still filled with fond memories of that hospital stay when we think back to that sacred time.

Now, fast forward with me to August of 2013.  What love-mischief has the Beloved invited my Monk and Artist to today?  We began the day with a joy-filled time of dance at a zumba class with a wonderful group of people.  Upon returning home we were greeted by our precious little dog who was ready for her morning walk.  Out we went, and she gave me a few opportunities to scoop up the little gifts she left along way.  We picked some roses from the front yard to fragrantly adorn the living room, and then set out to the backyard with a gourd of yerba mate tea in hand.  We spent a few hours in the backyard, journaling and softening to some grief that wanted to rise, and then eased into a time of lectio divina and centering prayer.  We had a moment of being swept away in wonder as a butterfly landed on our toe, and then pondered if the fly buzzing around and landing on our arm might really be just as wonder-full.  We noticed our gaze being drawn to one of our favorite branches that looks like a child swinging upside down by her knees, and then noticed the grumbling of our stomach reminding us to pause to nourish our body.  We created a lovely salad, and endeavored to eat with mindful attention, having to bring our attention back again…and again…and again (and again and again and again).  We made a refreshing summer smoothie for a roommate, and I imagine that later tonight Love-Mischief will whisk me off to do the dishes from the day (okay, by that time it may be more of a nudge than a whisk).   Love-mischief can take on all kinds of shapes and forms.

There still are plenty of days when I wake up to “I” – to my plans and agenda.  There are days where it seems that my internal instruments are creating nothing but dissonant chaos as they play competing songs, and days where I find myself repeatedly saying “oh yeah, love-mischief.”  Such is the disorder and messiness of being human.  In fact, most days I feel like more of a beginner on this path than ever.   Here, Love gently invites me to fine tune the ear of my heart until I hear again the music of  “We” ~ the music of love-mischief ~ and then strings, piano, brass, woodwinds, and percussion alike join back together in harmony.  In these moments, I am learning compassion as I allow myself to be showered by the grace of always beginning again.  I am discovering that each new beginning can be a celebrated homecoming wherein Monk and Artist invite me once more to dance with them to the edges of love as we learn to stay awake and soften to each moment, taking up the canvas and brush of the raw stuff of life to bring beauty and repose to the world.

Shhhhhh.  Listen.  Can you hear the music of “We”?  What kind of love-mischief might your Monk and Artist be drawn to make with God today?

Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks (a love note from your online Abbess)

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Dearest monks and artists,

I have been engaged in much reflection and wonderful conversation with the Wisdom Council while I take my summer break from teaching.  Did you see the video last week of the Catholic bishops gathered in Brazil with the Pope dancing freely?  It was very inspiring, especially in light of what I have been pondering this summer.

I have long wanted to articulate more clearly what this community is about, and so this week I bring you the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks (and like everything, a work in progress):

Abbey of the Arts is a growing global community and virtual monastery.  It is co-created by those who long to live into the monk and artist path more fully, knowing the depth and meaning to be found in them.

For those of you who want to affiliate with this community, I invite you to consider joining the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks!

Why a "Disorder"?

Abba Antony said to Abba Joseph, “How would you explain this saying?” and he replied, “I do not know.” Then Abba Anthony said, “Indeed, Abba Joseph has found the way, for he has said: “I do not know.” —Antony the Great 

This world, this reality, revealed by God speaking to us, is not the kind of world to which we are accustomed.  It is not a neat and tidy world in which we are in control- there is mystery everywhere that takes considerable getting used to, and until we do, it scares us. —Eugene Peterson

The heart of the contemplative life is never about escaping the world, but plunging ourselves fully into the heart of messiness and mystery.

As we deepen on the contemplative journey, our aim is to release our attempts at controlling our lives and surrendering into a far greater Mystery than our egos can contain. There are no step-by-step plans, only daily practice and immersion in the messiness of life as it comes.  We live into the questions, as the poet Rilke so wisely wrote, rather than trying to find the answers.  We practice being uncomfortable. We move more deeply into unknowing.

We follow the trail of the desert mothers and fathers, who traveled out to the heart of wild places to discover their own edges, to be stripped of false idols, to release certainty and control, and to encounter the God who is far beyond their limited imagination.  We are also called to step out into this wilderness by showing up to life fully and embracing the disorder to be found there as precisely the place where the holy dwells and shimmers.

When we reach for control and conformity, we effectively squelch the Spirit at work in the world. We recognize the health and vitality to be found in diversity, and the free exchange of ideas as keeping us awake to what we most deeply believe. Creativity arises in response to what life offers us. To be an artist means to create out of the materials given.

Why Dancing?

Then the prophet Miriam, Aaron’s sister, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women went out after her with tambourines and with dancing. —Exodus 15:20

David danced before God with all his might. —2 Samuel 6:14

If only we can bring the wisdom of the body to consciousness, spirit will no longer be homesick for home. —Marion Woodman

As the Buddhist teacher Reginald Ray writes in his book Touching Enlightenment, our bodies are the last unexplored wilderness. We live so far removed from the sensual and incarnational realities of embodied life which offer us a deep source of wisdom and place of encounter with God.

Like the early desert monks, we are called to stay in the midst of wilderness for the sake of deepening into the divine mystery.  Not just to bide our time, waiting for a way out of the messiness, but to dance right in the midst of it, to connect to the rhythm of life and trust that love is the fundamental force sustaining us.

Dancing may mean literally moving your body in response to the music of life, but it is also a metaphor for living from a full-bodied, contemplative awareness of the gift our physicality offers to us. It means living as if the incarnation really were true and matters deeply. The split between head and body is at the root of so many divisions in our world. We are in exile and being called home. When we attend to the body's wisdom with reverence, it offers us holy directions for our lives.

We are a radically inclusive tribe, living out the ancient paths of monk and artist as witness to an alternative way of being in the world.  All are welcome.  Bring your doubts, your questions, your laments, your celebrations. It all belongs.

We all need kindred spirits along the way.  My hope at the Abbey is that you find them  online, through the virtual dimensions of this work, as well as make live connections with other monks and artists in your local communities to help start a contemplative and creative revolution!

This place is a temenos, a sacred space and container for your own inner work.  In the Greek imagination, a temenos is a sanctuary.  For Carl Jung, it was a safe place where soul-making happens. The call is for the fruits of this inner work to be shared generously with the world.

Do you. . . ?

Do you long to cultivate a spacious and holy rhythm to your days?
Do you want to "live the questions" rather than find certain answers, believing in the grace of honest doubt and struggle?
Do you feel called to claim the sacred lineage of ancient monastic paths and bring that wisdom to the world?
Do you seek the sacred in all things, circumstances, and people, right in the midst of life's messiness?
Do you desire to plunge into the heart of your own creative upwelling, knowing that when you make space for life to become art, you cooperate with the Great Artist at work?
Do you honor the profound dignity of each person, regardless of culture, gender, sexual orientation, economic status, or religious beliefs?
Do you long for a community of kindred spirits who also seek this contemplative and creative path, as a radically alternative way of being?
Do you believe that the earth is our first monastery, shimmering with holy wisdom, and calling us to intimacy and simplicity?

Crossing Thresholds

There are many thresholds to the process of becoming a dancing monk.  It is a lifelong journey, but here are some ways to begin.  This isn't meant to be a linear path of things to check off a list (and definitely not your 10-step plan to achieve inner peace!), but invitations which weave together to create a life of depth and service:

Subscribe to the Abbey newsletter and participate in the free 7-day e-course on becoming a monk in the world (7-week format also available).  Really let yourself integrate the materials and reflect on the teachings there.  Notice your own places of resistance and growth.  Read your online Abbess' love notes and reflect on how they stir your own soul's longings.
Sign the Monk Manifesto, making a commitment to live out its principles in your daily life.
Commit to some central practices: lectio divina and practicing resurrection are two wonderful places to begin. Notice what rhythms contribute to your own flourishing. Seek out places for generosity and service.
Find spiritual support in your community through a soul friend or spiritual director. If you are unable to find a spiritual director in your community, several of the Wisdom Council members are available by Skype, phone, or email for soul care and support.
Tell others you are a " dancing monk " when asked about your spiritual practice.
Participate in our monthly Poetry Parties, Photo Parties, and community lectio divina practices, as a way of staying connected to this vibrant larger community.
Join Abbey classes as you are able for deep soul support with others, either online in community or self-study, or live and in person.
Gather your own small group community.  Invite 2 or 3 friends to gather regularly and pray lectio divina together, or move through one of Christine's books together.  Having soulful conversations opens us to new possibilities.
Share and sustain the monk revolution by becoming a monk in the world and sharing the Abbey with others in your emails and conversations. Let your commitment to nurturing silence, spaciousness, slowness, and beauty spill over into your interactions.  Witness to this alternative way of being in the world.
When your practice falters, remember to always begin again , and again, and again. . .

If this path calls to you, then as the Irish say, a hundred thousand welcomes!

Welcome to this Circle: A song to welcome you, from our Wisdom Council member Trish Bruxvoort Colligan

If this path resonates with your heart, please consider sharing this post with a friend or on Facebook and in the subject line write: I am a dancing monk!

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE www.AbbeyoftheArts.com

*Photo: Dancing St. Francis of Assisi sculpture outside of the Cathedral in Santa Fe, NM

New Interview with Christine at Gentle Marketing

I am delighted to share a new interview with me at Joy Agcongay's Gentle Marketing (as an introvert myself, her approach really resonates with me!)  Click over to her site to read on about some of my practices and how I nourish myself:

I am a huge fangirl of AbbeyoftheArts.com! What is your background and how did your experience lead you to found the Abbey? Who do you think of reaching with this work?

Thanks so much Joy!  It is such a delight to have folks who have been with me long-term and are committed to what the Abbey is about.  Most of my work has been the result of an organic process.  While I am someone who does enjoy making lists and plans, my strongest growth has come when I continue to work, but release my own agenda and pay attention to how my work is unfolding.  I call it “following the thread” where I honor the things in life that bring me alive and shimmer as clues to the next step.

Click here to read the whole interview>>

Wisdom Council: Guest Post from Michael Landon

I am delighted to share another guest post from one of our wonderful Wisdom Council members! This week we hear from Rev. Dr. Michael Landon.  I first met Michael a couple of years ago when he participated in our Awakening the Creative Spirit intensive and found kinship with him through his work with grief and lament.  He has a written a beautiful book, Grieving Hearts in Worship: A Ministry Resource, which explores the essential role of ritual in healing from losses of all kinds. Read on for Michael's reflections:

When I sit at my computer in my home office, my eyes are frequently drawn to three areas; each speaking to my unfolding understanding of what it means to be a monk and artist in the world today. One is a beautifully carved finger meditation labyrinth. It sits on a ledge that hangs on a wall in front of me, with the shimmering grains of walnut wood inviting me to follow the path into the center and back out again.  On the same wall, but to the left is a framed print of one of my favorite images – St. Benedict cupping his ear as a reminder to listen with the ear of your heart.  The third area is below the labyrinth where I have built a prayer alter of sorts. Intentionally placed are bits and pieces of past and present encounters with God’s presence; each item inviting me to ponder and reflect anew; each a shimmer of God’s love, each a gift received.

The labyrinth is frequently a metaphor for me that points towards a journey or the path life. I was first introduced to the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, CA while doing my training to become a spiritual director. I will never forget standing in line waiting to enter the labyrinth as I watched the many participants walking, I was witnessing a human tapestry being woven as each person walked or danced – allowing the Spirit to guide their steps and movement. It was the most sacred space I had ever been in at that time of my life. Subsequently I trained with Lauren Artress to become a labyrinth facilitator and traveled with her and Veriditas to Chartres, France for a week of immersion into the Chartres labyrinth and a deepening of my spiritual journey. It was while I was walking the labyrinth in Chartres just before returning home that I had an epiphany of awareness, that seeing people gathered from all around the globe – tourists, pilgrims, participants in the same program, those who knew the labyrinth was there and those who did not – we each were traveling on the same journey, on the same path, but just didn’t realize it and what a marvelous thing it will be when there is greater awareness of our interconnection with one another and the Divine. The labyrinth reminds me to listen to my body, to find my own pace and balance, to be aware of what is happening deep within as well as all around me. It is a path that draws us in to a place of peace and wholeness, while being able to face our fears and name our desires, and to hear the voice of God. It is also a path that is often not straight, but curves and twists.

To follow the spiritual path one must learn to listen and take a long loving look at the real. I think this is why I find myself drawn to St Benedict and his invitation to listen with the ear of my heart. Listening with the ear of our heart involves getting in touch with a burning desire, hope and longing that comes from deep within; revealing the essence of God’s love deeply rooted in each one of us. Listening with the ear of our heat is a listening to the stirrings within that are of God.  It is seeing our whole being through the eyes of love; where we can hear God say to us from the beginning of creation, when God looked upon the man and woman – upon you and me – “And it is VERY good.” Genesis 1:31 NRSV emphasis added) Listening with the ear of our heart is tapping into an inner depth that claims the truth of being created in the image of God; in the image of love.  Listening in this way is a remembering that our bodies are sacred temples that contain the very essence of God deep within.

My prayer alter is a collection of items, images and words that have been gathered throughout my life – including my early childhood stuffed animal, a bright red fox. Each item stirs a memory of some aspect of my life journey; inviting me not only to remember and savor past experiences and awareness’s, but to continue to listen and notice God’s presence in the moment and to gain a sense of where God may be leading me in the future. My prayer alter is an invitation to slow down and breathe deeply. This has become especially important as I learn to live in the midst of chronic illness. Having this place of rest and focus helps me to realize that God is not finished with me yet. Though my life has taken a dramatic turn from what I once thought it would be; God’s creative energy flows through me in new and surprising ways.

It is through God’s creative energy that I am able to reach out to others through writing, poetry, spiritual direction, grief work, and even a little water color painting. So being a monk and an artist in the world today is for me about following the path, listening deeply, pausing and taking a deep breath, and finding creative ways of expressing and being present to others; it is also allowing myself to look and see with new eyes as deepening awareness continues to unfold.

The Petals Drop

The petals drop

giving the illusion of death

The petals drop

revealing a new beauty,

a new way of seeing and being

The petals drop

spreading their color across the table

joining and transforming what is there

The petals drop

revealing the naked seeds and stem

revealing their own sacred pattern of life and beauty

The petals drop

bringing transformation

 

Read more about Michael's work here>>