Christine Valters Paintner's Blog, page 64

Join us for a Summer Online Retreat! + Newsletter Sabbatical ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dancing Monks at Abbey of the Arts from Christine Valters Paintner on Vimeo.

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,

We are so grateful to the 35 dancing monks who sent us videos telling us what they loved about Abbey of the Arts. We are even more thrilled to have representatives from the United States, Canada, Ireland, England, Scotland, New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, and the Philippines included! What an amazing global community we are. We have compiled excerpts from these videos into the one we share above to give a window into what nourishes and sustains us. Please pour a cup of tea and enjoy this window into our dancing monk community around the world.

We celebrated our 50th birthdays last week and while our sabbatical is now officially ended, the fruits and gifts continue to nourish us. More on that in the coming weeks. Our deepest hope is to extend the spirit of Jubilee into our lives going forward.

We are taking a break from our email newsletters for a month (until August 9th) but we do still have some wonderful programs happening online this summer.

Please join us for Earth, Our Original Monastery – the 8-week companion retreat to my newest book – which begins tomorrow! We are in the midst of so much upheaval in the world, this retreat invites you to fall more deeply in love with nature and welcome her wisdom and guidance into your life.

We also have two mini-retreats coming up:

Feast of Mary Magdalene: Anointed and Anointer – July 22nd

Feast of the Assumption: Mary, Queen of Heaven – August 15th 

These mini-retreats are wonderful if you'd like just a small creative dose this summer. I am leading them with Betsey Beckman and there will be reflection, meditation, creative writing practice, and gentle movement. Please click the links for more details.

(The Writing as a Spiritual Practice mini-retreat on July 11th is now full. Please contact St. Placid Priory to be added to their waiting list or receive notification if this retreat is offered again.)

We are so grateful for your support in so many ways – through encouraging notes and comments, your participation in our retreats, and the ways you share your love of Abbey of the Arts with others.

We are excited to return to the newsletters in August with some new gifts including 6 new poetry videos to celebrate my newest poetry collection coming in October – The Wisdom of Wild Grace, as well as a Prayer Cycle of morning and evening prayers for a week Abbey-style!

Sending you warmest blessings for a fruitful summer (or winter for our cherished southern hemisphere monks)!

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

Video © Christine Valters Paintner (editing by Luke Morgan)

Monk in the World: Creative Joy 6 ~ Reflection Questions and Closing Blessing from Christine

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,

Thank you for journeying with us through the Monk in the World reflections this year while we have been on our Jubilee sabbatical. Today I offer reflection questions and a closing blessing for principle 8.

Principle 8. I commit to being a dancing monk, cultivating creative joy and letting my body and "heart overflow with the inexpressible delights of love."* (*quote from The Rule of St. Benedict.)

Questions for Reflection

How might a daily practice of gratitude help you to notice the grace of the ordinary in your life?

Are there creative pursuits which call to your heart but you resist for fear of wasting time or looking silly or (insert your favorite judgment here)? What might happen if you embraced this as a gift to yourself in partnership with the Great Artist at work?

Closing Blessing from Christine

Blessed Source of Joy

Carve out room in me for the

inexpressible delights of love.

I pause each day to whisper “thank you”

for the most ordinary grace and gift.

I open myself to the possibility of contentment

and zeal over life just as it is.

If you want to have access to all of the materials from the 8 principles in one place, you can register here for free>>

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

P.S Carl McColman has a lovely article on three Celtic poets he recommends and includes my first poetry collection Dreaming of Stones in his list. "Paintner refuses to compromise her poetic diction for the sake of religious sensibility, and so her spirituality is shaped as much by landscape as by liturgy. As the book’s title suggests, this is a collection of dream images, but also thresholds, boundaries, and silences."

Photo © Christine Valters Paintner

Monk in the World Guest Post: Sonia Frontera

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Sonia Frontera's reflection, "Communing with God in the face of illness inspired by Teresa of Avila."

Santa Teresa de Avila opened the door to the magical world of contemplation and, with it, offered me friendship with a God who is as loving as God is accessible.

Regrettably, I didn’t go through that door until mid-life.

I was barely 16 years old when Teresa’s path crossed mine and planted a seed in my soul that blossomed like a perennial flower, nudging me to bring her along as a companion on various stages of my spiritual journey.

Teresa was in and out of my life for more than 30 years

The life and works of the mystics Saint Teresa of Avila and Saint John of the Cross were part of the curriculum of my high school Spanish Literature class, not for their sainthood but for their literary accomplishments.

Once I met her, I found it impossible not to fall in love with Teresa. This 16th-century woman was light years ahead of her time.

She was a powerful woman in a world of men—a reformer, founder of convents, author and contemplative. She embodied contradiction, a petite woman who was larger than life, who possessed a zest for life and laughter that made her invincible in the face of adversity.

Yet, what most impressed me about Teresa was her love of Jesus and her intimate relationship with him.

Teresa experienced mystical visions and communed with Jesus in ways I could only dream of.

I was blown away by the picture in my textbook of Bernini’s sculpture, “The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.”  Bernini depicted Teresa’s vision of an angel who pierced her heart with a golden spear, setting her on fire with a great love of God.

How I wished to get so close to God, to become one with him like Teresa! But I was no saint, no nun, no mystic. I felt disappointed that these experiences were reserved for the holy ones. I was, after all, just a Catholic-school girl, unworthy of such an honor.

But my feelings of unworthiness didn’t vanish my fascination with Teresa.

I visited her convent in Avila and devoured her masterpiece “The Interior Castle.”

Teresa’s writing in old Spanish was hard to understand and to process, but one thing stood out.

Teresa warned her nuns, who like me, longed to experience the ecstasy of union with Jesus, that if they aspired communion with Jesus, they had to share in his passion as well.

That thought terrified me. Was I brave enough to endure the pain of a spear through my heart to commune with Jesus?

That seemed like an extraordinary feat for an ordinary girl.

But Jesus had a surprise for me. He wanted to commune with me.

Many years later, I was diagnosed with chronic daily migraines and suffered unspeakable pain.

I then remembered that Teresa, too, suffered from excruciating headaches and learned that she was the patron saint of headache sufferers.

Encouraged by Teresa’s suffering, I wondered if this affliction could bring me closer to God and began a contemplative practice.

By serendipity, I also found an old copy of Anthony de Mello’s book “Sadhana, a Way to God: Christian Exercises in Eastern Form.”

This book fired up my spiritual evolution and taught me that there are unlimited ways to experience God.

De Mello revealed Teresa as someone who “scaled the heights of mystical union with God” and who lived grateful for a scattered mind that forced her to take prayer from the realm of thought into the realm of affection and fantasy through the use of imagery.

I accepted the invitation to pray like Teresa, in fantasy. In my heart, I comforted Jesus at the garden of Gethsemane. I became the woman of who touched Jesus’ cloak knowing He would heal me.

I delighted in countless hours in silence, meditating on the love I felt for this God who led me through an unexpected path to unwavering faith and spiritual healing.

While I lost my health, my career and many things I held dear, I realized that I was offered a unique opportunity to partake in the passion of Jesus.

I understood that I did not have to be a saint to experience a delicious communion with God.

It dawned on me that when you sincerely seek God, God will meet you wherever you are. That God wants a relationship with you as much as you want a relationship with Him.

That you don’t have to be a nun or a saint to be one with God.

God offers all of us an invitation to join him in the silence. No magic words are needed. No VIP status required. Just a sincere desire to meet.

My illness was a gift. It was a portal to a deep connection with God. A connection I would not trade for the health I previously enjoyed.

Seven years have passed since the onset of my illness.

I no longer have headaches every day. But I get occasional bouts of migraines that can last for months at a time.

Instead of living with fear of a relapse, I have learned to feel peaceful in the midst of uncertainty and loss.

One thing I know for sure… I can access God in sickness and in health. In the world and out of it.

I have no doubt that God and I are in this together–for the rest of my life.

And I am grateful for the gift of illness, my portal to spirituality.

Sonia Frontera is a contemplative, empowerment trainer and author. Her writing invites readers to discover paths to spirituality in everyday situations and personal adversity. Visit Sonia’s internet home at SoniaFrontera.com. Follow Sonia on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/sistersguides/.

Becoming a Holistic Artist: Embracing Body and Soul in the Creative Process ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,



I was commissioned to write the article Becoming a Holistic Artist: Embracing Body and Soul in the Creative Process by Azusa Pacific University. Read the excerpt below then click the link for the full arcticle.

The Monk and Artist Archetypes

I have spent most of my professional career exploring the connections between two archetypes – the monk and the artist. Archetypes are universal patterns of energy found across cultures. Each of us has an inner monk and artist and we are invited to cultivate those aspects of ourselves. The monk is the part of ourselves that seeks connection with the divine in each moment of time, through the objects of daily life, and through encounters with other people. The artist is the part of ourselves that seeks to give expression to an inner set of images in an outward form. That form might be words, paint, film, movement, or other artistic medium. The monk and artist support and nourish one another.

You can read the rest of the article here >>

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

Photo © Christine Valters Paintner

 

Christine Interviewed on Praying at the Speed of Love Podcast

This is the perfect conversation for a time of pandemic and quarantine. Christine invited us to explore how the monastic view embraces all of life—treasures and sorrows, cygnets and compost. She offered rich insights into the practices of Stability, Wild Edges, Grief, and the paradoxical state of Holy Indifference. She took us into a gentle meditation of memory—a heart practice to rediscover the gifts in small experiences. An excerpt from Earth, Our Original Monastery is included as well as a song based on Christine's poem about St. Columba and his horse.

Click here to listen to the podcast>>

Monk in the World Guest Post: Nancy L. Agneberg

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Nancy L. Agneberg's reflection, "Release Busyness-Embrace Fullness."

One morning several years ago, while exercising at the gym, a friend, recently retired, shared that her daughter had tried to guilt her into setting aside her own plans to babysit yet again, “You're not busy. I don't see what the big deal is,” the daughter said to my friend, who was ambivalent about how to respond.

“Should I drop what I have planned to do with my day when she expects me to babysit? Of course I would, if there were an emergency, but I love the ways I can spend my time now that I am not teaching full time. I have waited for this open time.”

I shared with her conversations with my husband when I casually mentioned to that I didn't have enough time to read all the books on my shelf or explore all the writing ideas swirling in my head. He would throw his arm around my shoulders, chuckle and tease, “You're sooooo busy.” Even as I felt misunderstood, I wondered if I should do more, be more productive. Should I set aside my quiet days to appear more busy?

When I am busy, too busy, it seems to me, I am driven by the agendas of others, by made up work, by distractions that overshadow what I most need to do for the well-being of my body, mind, and spirit. When I am too busy, I flit from one frenetic activity to another. I sputter. I sink. I sandwich one more thing between items 23 and 24 on my TO DO list. Saying “yes,” without thinking, I salute myself for how valuable I am, how needed I am, and what a difference I make.

Living with fullness does not mean rushing around and filling every minute with activity. Instead, I think it means living with a sense of abundance and awareness of the richness in my life. Living with “fullness” means staying awake to the sacred in my life. Living with purpose and meaning. What keeps me grounded, rather than stuck? How is it I can best respond in life-enhancing ways? For myself and for others. Do I feel overwhelmed or more drained than energized? Is it time to pause? To breathe?

Or is it time to jump joyfully in a new direction?

I am the first to admit I have had a luxurious life. For many years I have not had to balance career and family. I am the steward of my work as a spiritual director and writer, shepherding the use of my own time. I have had time and space to explore and open. To shed busyness and adopt “fullness.”

Of course, some days the pace is faster, one thing happens on top of another, and immediate reaction is needed. I get that, and I am able to respond as needed. At the same time I note that many of the items on my To Do list are not different from the busiest of my days—paying bills, buying groceries, fixing meals, writing my blog posts and working on a book, meeting with my spiritual direction clients, preparing for church volunteer responsibilities, spending time with family and friends. You know – all the stuff of life—but my approach now that I am in my 70's is different.

My prayer is to welcome my life, move in my life, with my whole being, bringing all I am, all I have learned and continue to learn into my days. Now is not the time to withdraw from the gifts awaiting me or to distance myself from the ways I can share gifts. No, now is the time to appreciate and honor the fullness of life. That day in the gym all those years ago I congratulated my friend for her full life and her intentional separation from busyness. That resonated with her. Her shoulders relaxed. Her eyes got big, and her breath more even. I wasn't sure how my friend defined “full,” nor was I even sure about my own definition. What I did know was that we both sought to release the busyness of life and instead embrace the fullness of life.

Lives rich and full. Joyous and full. Alive and full.

Nancy L. Agneberg is living her Sacred Seventies fully and gratefully in her many roles, including mother, grandmother, spouse, friend, writer, spiritual director, hometender, voracious reader, walker of labyrinths. Read her perspectives on aging as a spiritual practice on her blog, ClearingTheSpace.blogspot.com

Monk in the World: Creative Joy 4 ~ Guided Movement Practice by Christine – A Love Note from your Online Abbess

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,

During this Jubilee year of sabbatical we are revisiting our Monk Manifesto by moving slowly through the Monk in the World retreat materials together every Sunday. This is our eighth and final principle that we will explore for the next six weeks.

Principle 8. I commit to being a dancing monk, cultivating creative joy and letting my body and "heart overflow with the inexpressible delights of love." *quote is from the Prologue of the Rule of Benedict.

Movement Practice

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

Praise God with tambourine and dance. —Psalm 150:4

The Lord plays and diverts Himself in the garden of His creation, and if we could let go of our own obsession with what we think is the meaning of it all, we might be able to hear His call and follow Him in His mysterious, cosmic dance.

For the world and time are the dance of the Lord in emptiness. The silence of the spheres is the music of a wedding feast. . . Indeed we are in the midst of it, and it is in the midst of us, for it beats in our very blood, whether we want it to or not.

Yet the fact remains that we are invited to forget ourselves on purpose, cast our awful solemnity to the winds and join in the general dance. —Thomas Merton

I invite you into a movement practice.  Allow yourself just 5-10 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 this 8th principle gently in your heart and imagination: I commit to being a dancing monk, cultivating creative joy and letting my body and "heart overflow with the inexpressible delights of love," planting a seed as you prepare to step into the dance. You don't need to think this through or figure it out, just notice what arises.
Play a piece of music on the website(here is a suggested song) and 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. Sit with waiting for the impulse to move and see what arises.


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, phrase, or image that could express what you encountered in this time?
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.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

P.S. If you missed Christine's three poems published in the online journal Impspired you can read those here.

Photo created by AlemCoksa for free use on Pixabay

 

Praise Song for the Pandemic – German Translation

Our dear friend Katharina Resch has translated the "Praise Song for the Pandemic" into German.

Praise Song for the Pandemic from Christine Valters Paintner on Vimeo. (Video in English.)

Dankeslied für die Pandemie

(by Christine Valters-Paintner)

Dank sei allen, die an Krankenbetten um leidende Körper kämpfen,

um gerettete und verlorene Leben, immer im Dienst, was auch auf sie wartet 

Dank sei allen, die Felder bestellen, auf den Äckern eine neue Ernte säen –

welch Zeichen der Hoffnung in dieser Zeit

Dank sein allen, die unsere Häuser reinigen und betreuen, die unseren Müll entsorgen,

die Lebensmittel verkaufen, die mit ihren Lastwägen durch lange einsame Nächte fahren 

Dank sei allen, die Busse lenken, die Pakete zustellen, die Post austragen, die dafür sorgen, dass wir mit Wasser, Gas und Strom versorgt sind

Beschütze alle Menschen, die schwere politische Entscheidungen zum Wohle der Gesellschaft treffen müssen, Worte der Ermutigung für uns finden

Ein Hoch auf alle, die in der Wissenschaft arbeiten, um zu verstehen, was uns plagt, auf der Suche nach einem Gegenmittel, einer Medizin,

Dank sei allen, die uns in den Medien auf dem Laufenden halten

Dank sei allen, die neue Wege suchen und finden, um Kinder aus der Ferne zu unterrichten, beschütze alle Eltern, die für ihre Kinder da sind

Beschütze alle, die alt sind, die ein geschwächtes Immunsystem haben, alle die Angst um ihre Gesundheit haben,

Dank sei allen, die zuhause bleiben, um diese Schwachen zu beschützen

Beschütze die Opfer häuslicher Gewalt, die eingesperrt sind mit denen, die sie missbrauchen, beschütze alle, die kein Dach über dem Kopf haben, alle, die auf der Flucht sind

Dank sei allen, die uns mit ihrer Kunst, ihren Gedichten, Liedern und Geschichten ernähren, unserem Leben Worte, Klang und Farbe geben

Beschütze alle, die spirituellen und therapeutischen Beistand leisten, für uns Worte des Trostes finden

Beschütze alle, die ihre Arbeit verloren haben, keine Ersparnisse haben, voll Angst in eine ungewisse Zukunft blicken

Beschütze alle, die trauern, besonders dann, wenn sie allein sind,

gesegnet seien alle, die uns auf der letzten Reise vorangegangen sind

Dank sei allen, die sich bei Polizei, Feuerwehr und Rettung für unsere Sicherheit einsetzen,

dank sei allen Pflegekräften, die sich um uns kümmern

Danke für den Klang, der uns verständigt, wenn Nachrichten von Freunden aus der Ferne kommen, Danke für Lachen und Freundlichkeit

Dank sei unseren vierbeinigen Gefährten, die uns ohne Zukunftsangst mit Liebe begegnen

Dank sei den Meeren und Flüssen, Wäldern und Steinen, die uns lehren durchzuhalten

Dank sei unseren Vorfahren, die Kriege und Seuchen überstanden und überlebt haben, ihre Kraft lebt in unserem Blut, unseren Knochen

Dank sei dem Wasser, das über unsere Hände fließt, sie mit Seife sauber hält – jedes Händewaschen eine Taufe

Dank sei jedem Moment des Innehaltens und der Stille, damit wir neue Stimmen hören können,

Dank sei der Gelegenheit zur Langsamkeit

Dank sei den Vögeln, die jeden Tage mit ihrem Gesang begrüßen, Dank sie den Primeln, die ihre gelben Blüten aus der dunklen Erde recken, Dank sei der Luft, die uns umgibt, damit wir eines Tages wieder tief durchatmen können

Und wenn all dies vorüber ist, so wollen wir sagen, dass sich die Liebe schneller verbreitet hat, als es der Virus je konnte, dass dies nicht bloß ein Ende war, sondern ein neuer Anfang.

~ Translation by Katharina Resch

 

Monk in the World Guest Post: Anne Knorr

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Anne Knorr's reflection, "The Gift of Pilgrimage."

Arriving in Porto, Portugal with carry-on luggage in tow and feeling the anticipation of the adventure awaiting mixed with the fatigue and grogginess from jetlag, my traveling companion and I wandered through the modern airport where large expanses of glass let the warm Portuguese sunlight fill the space and exposed metal beams arched across the ceiling above. We rolled our twin red GoLite bags across the sleek gray tiled floor in search of an information desk and spotted a glassed-in room near the exit to the airport that looked promising.  A small, sturdy, Portuguese woman in her mid-sixties greeted us with a smile when we walked through the sliding door, clearly happy to have a customer.  She pulled out a stack of colorful glossy maps, detailed bus and train schedules, along with tri-fold flyers advertizing the highlights of the city that she enthusiastically displayed across the counter.  When I asked about where I might obtain a Passport for the Camino, a walking document, she directed me to the cathedral at the center of town and then drew an “x” on the map with a red marker indicating the spot near the harbor where we could start our walk the following day.  As we gathered our pile of information and left to hail a taxi she nodded and said, “Bon Camino.”

Her words startled me as it began to sink in that I was really going to do this – walk the Camino de Santiago.  It was no longer just an idea in my head, a far away dream of an enchanting trek to the ancient town of Santiago.  She was the first to speak the familiar blessing I would hear many more times along the way, “good journey,” and I was grateful for her kindness. A small, middle-aged driver with broad shoulders loaded our bags into the trunk of his yellow taxi parked along the curb then darted around traffic, expertly weaving his way through the narrow city streets as music played softly from the radio.  Looking out the window from the back seat of the taxi, I watched as local scenes passed me by. A blue and white tiled wall adorned the face of an historic building, laundry draped from ornate metal balconies of an apartment complex held in place by brightly colored clothespins– red, blue, yellow, and green, a sea of deep orange tiled roofs juxtaposed against the backdrop of the blue sky, and a cat sitting contentedly in a window sill peering over the city below – all of it adding to the charm and texture of the Porto architecture.

In the heart of the city, our hotel, Infante Sangres, stood in the midst of the bustling streets, a tall, pinkish stucco façade accented with stone trim around windows and doors.  We were greeted by a young desk clerk with dark brown eyes and hair neatly tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. After handing over credit cards and signing receipts, she offered us two delicate glasses filled with deep auburn Port, a popular local drink.  She then escorted us to a delightful courtyard enclosed by white stucco walls with black and white tile flooring, and lush green potted ferns along the edges where we chose a small bistro table in the sun to unwind from our travels.  Relaxed in our garden chairs we soaked in the warmth of the sun on our shoulders and breathed in the moist coastal air, giving in to our travel fatigue.  We sipped on the rich sweet wine and let ourselves arrive – really arrive – body and soul, and I began to feel the subtle pull of the pilgrimage already working her magic on me as I eased into a more spacious relationship with time.  Rarely do I allow this pause of welcome and arrival throughout my day and I realized there is a harshness to being busy and rushing around as I focus on endless to-do list items, all the while blinded to moments of wonder that gently invite my attention. Here, in this courtyard garden, I sat contented without a sense of urgency about anything – no place to be other than here, nothing to see other than what was in front of me, nothing to do other than sit.  As I consider being a Monk in the World, I realize the simple practice of allowing moments of arrival throughout my day, moments to pause and savor, are indeed what make for a good journey, a Bon Camino.

Anne Knorr is an architect, spiritual director and author of the book Sacred Space at Home that explores the connection between architecture and spirituality. She lives in Boulder, Colorado with her husband Bill and spends several months a year on their boat, Mystic Dancer, exploring the coastal waterways of the Northwest.

Writing as a Spiritual Practice (Zoom mini-retreat on July 11th)

with Christine Valters Paintner

July 11, 2020 – 9am-12noon Pacific time

Join us for this session where we will explore writing as a spiritual practice. Christine will guide you through different exercises to help you yield to the process of writing as a journey of discovery, rather than holding too tightly to the end product. In this way words become maps and help us to encounter new parts of ourselves, our calling, and our relationship to the divine. We will engage in both free writing and poetry writing and all are welcome regardless of level of experience. This is a generative workshop, we are not here to edit our work, but to show up for the Creative Source when we slow down and listen to what is erupting in the silence. In addition to the writing exercises Christine will include lectio divina, silence, reading of poems, gentle movement invitations to shift your energy and focus, and an optional chance to share a piece your writing in small groups in a contemplative and structured way.

Hosted by St. Placid Priory, a Benedictine monastery in Lacey, WA where Christine is an Oblate.

Register here>>