Christine Valters Paintner's Blog, page 61

Monk in the World Guest Post: Janeen R. Adil

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Janeen R. Adil's reflection on spiritual direction.

When I received approval from my denomination to work towards authorized ministry, a new and exciting journey began to unfold. Pastors on the committee overseeing the process laid out educational and other requirements; one urged that I find a spiritual director for myself.

"I certainly will!" I told him enthusiastically. And then added, "Umm… What's a spiritual director?"

It was an innocent question. Although I had always been part of one or another mainline Protestant denomination, I'd never heard the term. In fact, it soon became evident that there were a great many things I'd never heard of, most notably a wide variety of spiritual practices and disciplines (and even those terms were new to me!). And the more I learned, the hungrier I got. My own faith traditions simply had not done a good job of holding onto the deep and rich heritage of Christian spirituality.

I discovered then that spiritual direction (companioning) is a holy and ancient part of our faith practices. And soon a next-step opportunity opened, literally in front of me. During a retreat and over lunch, I struck up a conversation with the woman seated across the table. Kathie "happened" to be not only ordained in my denomination but a spiritual director – and she was eager for new directees! It was, as the saying goes, a match made in heaven.

Kathie and I met monthly, and eventually it dawned on me: I myself was being called to this ministry, a call that Kathie would affirm. And so when the time was right (God's time, or kairos), I entered a two-year, intensive, and wonderful program to train as a spiritual director. Our instructors represented distinct denominational backgrounds, as did the students themselves. The overarching stance though was contemplative – with an Ignatian emphasis!

By the time our class officially ended, it was abundantly clear to me: this spiritual direction training would inform the rest of my life. And so it has.

Because of my learning and experiences (both very much ongoing), I can hold a contemplative stance within the world, desiring to be continually present with and to Spirit. Naturally this is true when I am with my directees: together we explore where it is within their lives that God is beckoning. Good, contemplative presence is essential in direction, so that the director may be best employed as a conduit for Spirit's work.

Of course, actively engaging in spiritual direction ministry accounts for only some of my time. Living as a contemplative monk in everyday life means carrying this presence with me, into the world for the sake of the world. What does this look like? A few examples:

* I am an introvert, at times deeply so. I now however find myself empowered to be so much more present with people, including "strangers." Whether this leads to some pleasant small talk or to a more intense conversation, I know something of the power of human connection. We so often move through our days as invisible people; to simply acknowledge someone's existence, then, has the potential to become a mighty gesture.

* I find myself more able to release judgments and to less often see someone as "other." When meeting with a directee, my contemplative stance is to hold myself open, to hold my heart and mind in freedom. This, I feel, is the work of compassion and mercy. It's where I'm called to stand with any person and yes, it's ongoing work! This stance of presence is a choice I must make daily.

* My Ignatian-flavored direction training included teaching on how we continually move towards the Holy and away, back and forth, each and every day. I've found it incredibly helpful to understand these movements, both with my directees and in my own life. When I become aware of thoughts and actions that lead to a sense of dis-ease, these negative feelings alert me that I'm moving away from God. In the same way, moving towards God is characterized by spiritual fruit: I'm conscious of love, joy, peace, and other gifts of Spirit flowing through and in me.

* My sense of wonder, mystery/Mystery, and awe is heightened by the profound privilege of accompanying a fellow spiritual seeker. I often think of Jacob's dream as recorded in Genesis – only I spin the words a bit differently: “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I do know it!” In spiritual direction, we're on holy ground together.

Because each of us represents God's unique and beloved creation, what it means to be present contemplatively takes shape in a variety of forms and paths. In other words, many ways exist for living this life. For me, ministering as a spiritual director is a gift received, and it's how I delight in being a contemplative monk in the world!

Janeen R. Adil is a spiritual director, writer, and teacher; within the United Church of Christ, she is a Minister of Christian Spirituality. Through her freelance business Hungry Soul Ministries, she offers workshops, retreats, and direction. She lives in eastern PA, in a farmhouse built by English/Welsh Quakers over 200 years ago.

 

Prayer Cycle Podcast + Feast of All Saints & Souls ~ A Love Note from the Online Abbess

Click here to listen to the audio podcast.

Dearest monks and artists,

We share this week the morning prayer from Day 3 of our Earth Monastery Prayer Cycle. In Day 3 we explore Earth as the original saints. Thomas Merton wrote that the bass and the mountain, the sea and the trees are the original saints. “To be a saint means to be myself,” and we can learn a great deal about sainthood by being in the presence of creatures and the natural world who cannot be other than who they were created to be.

With us it is more complicated. We get distracted and misaligned with our soul’s gifts and callings because of cultural and family messages about what makes a life worth living. Or we had to stifle a passion of ours early on because others mocked us for it. Or we have become caught up in the treadmill of working hard to get to retirement so we can finally enjoy our lives.

Sainthood isn’t a heroic journey. It is the simplest one of all – to the heart of myself – and also the hardest. The poet David Whyte writes, “why are we the one terrible part of creation privileged to refuse our own flowering?”

Today is the Feast of All Saints (and tomorrow of All Souls). We remember all those who have passed into the Great Night, beyond the veil. The Christian tradition tells us that we are still intimately connected to these ancestors who are a part of the “communion of saints” and the great “cloud of witnesses.”

Saints include those who have been formally canonized or recognized by the institutional church as having lived a life full themselves in service to the divine call and to their communities. But just as much it includes those ancestors who are wise and well and can still offer us their wisdom.

Consider this day going for a walk where you can feel a connection to nature – whether a local park or a woodland trail or by the sea – ask all of creation to reveal to you what it means to live in deep alignment with how they were created by God and call upon the name of a human saint – whether one of the many great mystics like St. Hildegard, Benedict, Teresa, or Francis – or one of your blood-lineage kin who always had wisdom about life to offer to you. You can even call upon an ancestor whose name you do not know, asking for one of the wise and well to offer you guidance. Welcome in their presence and send out prayers and blessings for those who have passed who have not yet reached a state of full healing and wholeness.

In the midst of a global pandemic, I invite you to also extend your prayers out to the world community and pray especially for those who have died of this virus alone in a hospital room and for all their family who have not been able to seek physical comfort in one another because of social isolation. We send our blessings to these holy dead and anyone else who has died this past year especially, that they find their place among the great Communion of Saints. May we hear them dancing beyond the veil.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

Monk in the World Guest Post: Barb Morris

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Barb Morris' reflection on the wild flow of the soul.

Parker Dam, the deepest dam in the world, sits on the lower Colorado River, on the border between California and Arizona. Both states siphon hundreds of trillions of gallons of water each year from Lake Havasu, the impoundment created by Parker Dam. California water travels more than two hundred miles west through a complex system of pumping stations, tunnels blasted through mountain ranges, and canals, all the way to Los Angeles. Arizona water travels more than three hundred miles east to Phoenix and Tucson. Colorado River water also irrigates tens of millions of agriculture acres in seven Western states. By the time the Colorado reaches Mexico, it’s virtually dry. Policy-makers at the turn of the last century wanted the Colorado River this way. Their stated goal was to siphon 100% of the river, and they succeeded. As a child growing up in Arizona, I took all of this for granted. These diversions are so embedded in the landscape that I simply didn’t see how the wild Colorado has been tamed to slake the thirst of human culture.

The Deschutes River, near where I live in Bend, Oregon, is similarly domesticated. Dams and irrigation diversions turn this unique spring-fed river ecosystem into an irrigation canal, reversing its natural flows with little concern for the wild organisms who depend on it. Fish and frogs have been sacrificed to meet the desires of humans who want to grow commodities and water their lawns. Many rivers in the West have suffered the same fate.

What do dams, diversions, and the domestication of wild rivers have to do with being a monk in the world?

Imagine your soul as a wild river, and imagine culture as the Army Corps of Engineers. Culture turns us from wild rivers into impounded, channelized canals, worrying more about what others think of us than the dictates of our true selves. Culture gives us rules to follow and promises us that if we follow the rules we’ll be safe.

Unlike rivers, we humans have a choice. We don’t have to placidly submit to being impounded, channelized, and siphoned off by the culture in which we are embedded. We can demolish the dams, block the diversions, and heal ourselves. We can be wild rivers again.

One downside to rewilding ourselves, though, is that perfection and “getting it right” are no longer possible. If there are no rules, there are no benchmarks for perfection. This is scary for those of us who are perfectionists. (But there’s an upside: if there are no rules, there are also no mistakes!)

Can we trust ourselves if we’re free from the constraints of culture’s rules? A wild river follows the dictates of nature and the laws of physics. Our wild soul follows the direction of deeply-held values and deeply-held desires.

Here’s where my metaphor connects to being a Monk in the World. Our unique values and desires arise from that place deep within us where we connect to God, what Parker Palmer calls our “taproot.” That’s mixing my metaphors, so let’s imagine the soul as a spring connected to a deep aquifer called God. Clearing obstacles to the water’s flow from the aquifer to the world’s surface is what monks do. Contemplation, followed by action, is how we stay connected to our Source and let God move through us to a thirsty world. When we practice discernment rooted in Monk in the World disciplines, we can trust ourselves to follow our hearts.

Listen to the words of our own Christine Valters Paintner, from The Soul of a Pilgrim:

“We are brought into the world with what many indigenous cultures call ‘original medicine.’ This means that we are unique creations. We’ve never been in the past and won’t be in the future. No one carries the same combination of gifts, talents, resources, opportunities, and challenges. This unique alchemy is our ‘original medicine.’ St. Ignatius of Loyola, a sixteenth-century mystic, said that the deepest desires of our heart are planted by God.

‘Medicine’ is not just referring to a healing balm or potion. Our unique abilities contain our power to act in the world. They enable us to explore, discover, express, and heal. Our original medicine emerges from our ‘true self.’ Thomas Merton, in New Seeds of Contemplation, describes this concept as our deepest selves when we have stripped away self-deception, self-criticism, self-inflation, masks, expectations, and judgments: ‘For me to be a saint means to be myself. Therefore the problem of sanctity and salvation is in fact the problem of finding out who I am and of discovering my true self. God leaves us free to be whatever we like. We can be ourselves or not, as we please. We are at liberty to be real, or to be unreal. We may be true or false, the choice is ours. We may wear now one mask and now another, and never, if we so desire, appear with our own true face.’”

We live and move and have our being in the heart of a wild God. When you are radically rooted in Monk in the World disciplines, you’ll acquire the discernment to chart your own course. Trust your wild nature, and flow!

Barb Morris is a life coach, writer, and freerange naturalist living in Bend, Oregon with her Episcopal priest husband. You can connect with her at BarbMorris.com.

Prayer Cycle Podcast + Honoring Ancestors ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Listen to the Audio Podcast of Day 2 Evening Prayer Here >>

Dearest monks and artists,

We offer you the audio and video podcast for Day 2 Evening Prayer on the theme of Earth, our original scriptures. In the Celtic way of seeing the world, Earth was one of the two books of revelation alongside the holy text. The seasons beckon to us with their continual unfolding and wisdom about what it means to be fully human in this world and embrace rhythms of flowering, fruitfulness, release, and rest.

Last week I talked about how dawn and dusk are threshold moments in our day and how in the Celtic imagination these times were considered to be doorways to connecting more deeply with the divine and those who have passed on.

Morning and evening prayer is a beautiful practice passed down from our ancestors. When we make time to pause twice each day we join in with all those monasteries and other kinds of faith communities who knew that stopping work to praise the sacred is an essential practice. When we pause we join a lineage of those seeking this kind of regular, intimate connection with God.

Psychologist Carl Jung wrote extensively about the collective unconscious which is this vast pool of ancestral memory within each of us, it is a kind of deposit of ancestral experience lived out over time. He believed it comprises the psychic life of our ancestors right back to the earliest beginnings, nothing is lost, all of the stories, struggles, and wisdom are available to us. Each of us is an unconscious carrier of this ancestral experience and part of our journey is to bring this to consciousness in our lives.

He even believed it comprises our animal ancestry, he creatures we evolved from, which existed longer in time than our human existence. It is the place where archetypes emerge – those symbols and experiences that appear across time and cultures. The stories of our ancestors are woven into the fabric of our very being.

In his book Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Jung wrote:

"I became aware of the fateful links between me and my ancestors. I feel very strongly that I am under the influence of things or questions which were left incomplete or unanswered by my parents and grandparents and more distant ancestors. It often seems as if there were an impersonal karma within a family, which is passed on from parents to children. It has always seemed to me that I had to answer questions which fate had posed to my forefathers, and which had not yet been answered, or as if I had to complete, or perhaps continue, things which previous ages had left unfinished."[1]

We let these lost voices speak through our own lives and perhaps discover our own deepest longings are woven together with theirs. Consider spending some time in your journal holding this image of offering space for the voices of your ancestors to speak. What stories might they tell? What wisdom might they offer? What were the prayers they sang at the moments of the sun’s ascent and descent along the horizon?

The evening of October 31st through the day of November 1st is called Samhain in the old Celtic calendar. It is a time when the veil is believed to be especially thin and we can hear the voices of the ancestors more clearly. November 1st and 2nd are also the feasts of All Saints and All Souls and the time when the northern hemisphere continues to move into greater darkness and mystery. Join Deirdre Ni Chinneide and me for a mini-retreat via Zoom to honor this most special time of year.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

[1] Carl Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections (Vintage Books, 1989) p. 233-234.

Monk in the World Guest Post: Marianne Patrevito

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World  guest post series from the community. Read on for Marianne Patrevito's reflection, "Contemplative Anxiety." 

I consider myself a contemplative. Committing to being a Monk in the World, I lean in towards the practices of the mystics. Centering prayer, lectio divina, solitude and silence feed my soul. I am most alive wandering in the forest near my home, walking through a field, or breathing the air that dances above a large body of water.

 I love to create, especially when I am alone, whether it be painting, collaging, writing, or making a pot of soup. My small space of garden is where I contemplate life. Allowing the dirt to mingle in my fingertips, I work through the most recent events of my days, or chat with God.  Hearing about my daily practices, one would never think that I live with anxiety. Every day. Somedays are better than others, but it’s there. It does not leave. It wraps around me like a “well worn” coat.

Over the years I have argued about it, denied it’s existence and just tried to stuff it away. I’ve even tried to hide from it. Dodging anxiety’s claws, hoping that if my emotional “self “moved fast enough, the worrisome state of mind, would not find me.

Therapy over the years, many years, has been helpful. I’ve learned techniques and language that have been and are quite beneficial and serve a purpose.

Those who struggle with this feeling of nervousness/anxiousness, do so for a variety of reasons. Trauma, DNA, occurrences from our past to name a few. I always urge people to seek professional help, as I have and do. But I also feel strongly that we are responsible for ourselves and our self- care.

Most mornings I begin the day with centering prayer, sacred reading and journaling, which soothe my spirit. I then may journey to the yoga mat, where I just want to ground myself and be “in” my body. Exercise  is essential. Walking daily is my go to and feeds both body and mind.

However, the most important aspect of turning in a new direction was one I just recently discovered.

I needed to befriend my anxiety.

 A difficult concept, but since this was something that never occurred to me, I was willing. I was willing to bring this movement into my space and treat it as another “practice.” 

I have learned, mostly through those who are walking this path with me, is this… the more I try to push anxiety away, the more it gets stronger. Try to not think about something, it will just grow. Anxious thoughts are no exception. My past failed attempts of trying to push the thoughts away and ignore the vibrating feelings that streamed through my body were exhausting.  I knew it was time. Time for a change. In my search for relief, I found the five A’s of Anxiety:

 Awareness, Attention, Acknowledgment, Acceptance and Allowance.

Solitude and silence were the platform for Awareness of anxiety stirring. Previously I would notice something, a worrisome thought, a reaction to the words of another, and try to ignore it. Now, I become Aware…. I do not fight or argue with what’s happening, I just notice.  What’s happening in my mind? In my body? 

Attention….at this point, I will turn my mind to the most outstanding symptom, whether it be shallow breath or feeling of fear. I focus there, remembering to be gentle with me. I take deep breathes as I attend and care for me. I may even place my hand over my heart space to call on my own or God’s loving presence.

Acknowledge…. so often we want to dismiss the parts of ourselves that have unwanted feelings of pain. Here is where I may say, “I’m feeling anxious/worried/angry…” Whatever is most present, whatever my attention is turned toward. I acknowledge that part of me.

Acceptance… in the past, I would argue with the worrisome thoughts, or try to fix them. My practice, and it is still just a practice, is now to accept them. They are a part of me, a part of me that I have wanted to dismiss for so long. I will then move into the final stage, which is….

 Allow.

Marianne Patrevito is a Spiritual Director who loves nature, the creative arts, including painting, collage, cooking and gardening. She is the mother of five adult children and one grandchild. Marianne resides in Hinsdale, Illinois with her husband, Tom.

Prayer Cycle Podcast + Listening at the Threshold ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Listen to the Audio Podcast Here >>

Dearest monks and artists,

I am thrilled to share with you above the video and audio podcasts for Day 2 Morning Prayer. We hope that you are enjoying these resources!

In the Celtic imagination, the hours of dawn and dusk are considered threshold times when the veil between worlds is especially thin. When we show up for morning and evening prayer we open ourselves to an encounter with the Holy One reaching toward us. This encounter is always available, but it is in these sacred moments of Earth's turning when we become more open to receive this gift.

These threshold moments are not just at the turning points of each day from dark to light and back to dark again. They also happen during the year in alignment with the seasons. November 1st is considered to be a time when the doorway between worlds is open even further and is the start of the New Year in the Celtic calendar.

Our western culture doesn't make much room for the honoring of ancestors or valuing what connection to the stories of our past might bring to us. When we uncover the layers of the stories those who have come before us have lived for generations we begin to understand ourselves better. Some of these stories we may know the details of, and some we may have to access and experience in an embodied and intuitive way. These memories live inside of us, waiting for us to give them room in our lives. Making space in our lives to learn our family history, to know some of the struggles and joys of our ancestors, to experience the land they walked on, all gives us a sense of time as generational and how things in our lives are planted for the generations to come.

We have scientific evidence through the work of epigenetics that family wounds are carried unconsciously from generation to generation. The stories and traumas of our grandmothers and grandfathers are our stories. We can help to heal the wounds of the past and in the process heal ourselves by telling those stories again, giving voice to the voiceless, unnamed, secrets and to the celebrations, insights, and wisdom gathered over time. The poet May Sarton wrote in her poem “All Souls”: Now the dead move through all of us still glowing. . . What has been plaited cannot be unplaited. 

Landscape, language, and culture have all shaped the stories we’ve told, the words used to express the most aching sorrow and the most profound joy. Ancestral lands with their trees, rivers, oceans, and undulations have been imprinted on our psychic lives and our soul. Learning some of the language our ancestors spoke or walking in the landscape that shaped them can bring us home to ourselves again.

On Saturday, October 31st I will be joined by Deirdre Ni Chinneide, a wonderful singer and gifted facilitator who lives on Inismor, the largest of the three Aran Islands. Together we will be inviting you into a time of personal reflection and community ritual for honoring those who have walked before us. You will be called to listen at the threshold for the voices of the ancestors. It promises to be a rich meaningful time at this sacred turning point of the year.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

Earth Rising Podcast – Touching Sacred Earth: Expressive Art and Spiritual Practice

Christine was interviewed for Earth Rising Podcast on Touching Sacred Earth: Expressive Art and Spiritual Practice.

From the show notes:

Christine Valters Paintner has spent her career and life as a Benedictine oblate exploring the link between the disciplines of making art and having a spiritual practice. We contemplate how these two disciplines provide an access point for relating to the natural world and deepening our relationship to Earth, while activating our imagination and relationship to mystery.

Christine also shares what it can mean to slow down and cultivate a contemplative practice in the midst of our busy lives, including some practical ideas and insights for how to do this. She is also a poet and we end the interview with an offering from her writings.

The Wisdom of Wild Grace Book Launch

If you missed the virtual launch of The Wisdom of Wild Grace: Poems written by Christine Valters Paintner, hosted by Paraclete Press, and moderated by Mark Burrows, you can watch the replay below. It was a wonderful hour-long conversation where Christine shared many of her poems and some of the inspiration behind them and the book.

Monk in the World Guest Post: CJ Shelton

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for CJ Shelton's reflection, "A Prayer for All of Creation."

Living the quiet and contemplative life of an artist and “monk in the world” in Ontario, Canada, I am blessed to have each distinct and seasonal quarter turn of Nature’s Wheel influence both my art and my prayers.

In the winter months, those prayers are often for the birds, animals and trees that must endure the harshness of our Canadian sub-zero temperatures and snowy storms. This winter though, it was another country, Australia, and the devastating loss of habitat and animal life from wildfires that became my focus.

My spiritual practices are a blend of the Celtic/Anglo Saxon traditions of my British ancestors and the Algonquin tradition of eastern Ontario I am aligned with through shamanic Medicine Rites. Seeing the natural world as sacred is a fundamental feature of both Celtic and First Nations spirituality, so a love of nature is literally coded into my DNA.

As I watched helplessly in the face of Australia’s unfolding tragedy, I realized I could take action through my art by creating a special collaborative mandala for the winter festival at the arts centre where my studio is located. In both my art and work as an educator and facilitator, I use the circular format known as a mandala. Knowing a mandala acts as both a container and an amplifier of whatever is placed within it, at the very centre of the piece I painted our planet earth. I then “ghosted” images around it of Australian animals such as koala bears and kangaroos, as well as other creatures being impacted by environmental disasters. Finally, during the festival, I invited anyone who visited my studio to contribute their own thoughts and prayers by writing them directly on the radiating concentric circles drawn around the earth.

Prayers for the Planet is still a work-in-progress as my intent is to keep adding to it, expanding its circle of prayer to include not only the land down under, but all areas struggling because of climate change and other human-caused indignities. Prayer is powerful and I know the effects of such an intentional process can ripple outwards in incredible ways.

The ancient Celts recognized this power when they used the “circling” form of prayer known as caim, a concept I was introduced to through one of Abbey of the Arts daily emails. On doing more research, I learned that caim is Gaelic for “protection” or “sanctuary” and is derived from the root word meaning to “circle”, bend or turn. In essence, a caim is an invisible circle of protection that is created or drawn symbolically around the body to encircle the one who is praying, as well as anyone, or anything, they wish to include. The power of this prayer-form is that all who are placed within its sacred space can feel safe and loved, even in the darkest of times.

As I created this painting, I recognized I am praying a caim whenever I open Sacred Space and call in the Seven Great Directions of the Algonquin Medicine Wheel:  East, South, West, North and the directions of Above, Below and Centre. And I often extend that space beyond my personal circle to the community in which I live and to the world at large, both natural and human. By encircling a space much larger than myself I am including the entire vast and diverse web of life – the plants, trees, rocks, birds and other wildlife – of which I know I am fundamentally a part, as are all humans.

Such an invitation also pays homage to the numinous in nature – that which is mysterious, spiritual and, at times, even supernatural. It acknowledges that I am just one of many interwoven threads within our planet’s much larger web of wonders. Casting such an encircling prayer also creates a space and an atmosphere of expectation, a knowing that mystery and magic can, and will happen, because the whole of Creation is now a part of my caim circle. In this way, my caim becomes an eco-centric (not ego) way of praying that includes All My Relations.

Creating sacred space in this way is empowering and tangible. It is a way of acting intentionally in the face of the relentless bad news being constantly filtered through the media. It is a way of focusing energy through speaking aloud about that which I wish to see change. Having these words witnessed by Spirit solidifies them, making it more likely I will follow through with my own conscious actions in the physical realm to help manifest these changes … because thoughts become reality and when said prayerfully, their power cannot be underestimated. Belief PLUS action is the key to healing our world.

Given the times we are living in, I will continue to say a caim each season as it comes around and offer my prayer of protection for all of Creation. And each time I do, I will feel the waves of concentric circles rippling out from my own little sacred circle to merge with the prayers of others and, eventually with the greater Sacred Hoop of our planet, and beyond. By doing so, I am quietly doing my part as a monk in the world. Even though that part feels small, I know every prayer counts. And, most of all, I know that Creation will respond.

CJ Shelton is an Artist/Educator who inspires and guides others on their creative and spiritual journeys. Through her art, photography, writing and shamanic practice, CJ opens others up to the meaning, magic and mystery of the Great Wheel of Life. You can view The Art of CJ Shelton at DancingMoonDesigns.ca

Poetry Book Launch + Prayer Cycle Podcast ~ Love Note From Your Online Abbess

Earth Monastery Prayer Cycle: Day 1 Evening Prayer from Abbey of the Arts on Vimeo.

Click Here to listen to the Audio Podcast

Dearest monks and artists,

Celebrate with me!

In addition to our Earth Monastery Prayer Cycle being released this fall, I am delighted that my second poetry collection – The Wisdom of Wild Grace – is also  launching with an online event hosted by Paraclete Press tomorrow on October 12th. (Register here) I would be most grateful if you would consider writing a review on Amazon or Good Reads. Every review and recommendation helps the work spread.

Read an excerpt from the introduction to the book:

When I long for expansiveness and connection to something far greater than my own daily concerns and struggles, a walk by the sea or in the forest expands me.

We live in a time when Earth is threatened on so many fronts by human development. Slowly we seem to be awakening to the truth that our personal well-being is intimately woven together with the well-being of all creatures and plants. Many of us might have been taught by our religious traditions that humans have dominion over nature or that animals don’t feel pain or have souls.

The more we cultivate our own intimacy with the wild, the more we open to different truth. Wildness doesn’t mean we have to go out into the forest or travel long ways, the wild is a place within us.

Each poem here is a doorway into this inner wilderness, a call to sit and be present to what we discover beyond the borders of our neatly controlled worlds. Wildness is vulnerable, risky, spacious, and full of possibility. And this is where I invite you to sit and rest awhile dwell with me…

We also have the second audio and video podcast from our Earth Monastery Prayer Cycle series ready for you! The links are above to Day 1 Evening Prayer. Thank you for the many kind words of support and the donations to help sustain this work and allow us to continue producing these kinds of resources. Your generosity humbles us.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE