hello!

Abbster.


Stephen and I have been spending the week working side by side in our apartment, he on articles and I on business. It's been a stressful week in part for me because I have numbers and contacts to worry about. I told myself when I was through with this two week span I would treat myself to something (anything!) to celebrate everything being over. Lately some of that stress has been manifesting itself in the kitchen. I've been cooking every night and baking nearly as much. Last night I made a quick almond and rosemary chicken, wilted spinach, and snickerdoodles.

I've been making my way through some books as well, thank goodness. I finished "Thomas Merton & the Monastic Vision" and am about 20 pages away from finishing "Life and Holiness." Merton is ever the incomparable teacher and mentor. "Life and Holiness" has been giving me so much in just the two days I've been reading. The things I'd most like to work on are probably spiritual discipline and a more contemplative prayer life. When we're away from prayer too long and it's become less of a communication and more of a "have-to" or a "not at all," I think it takes some time and effort to remember how to pray. I forget, too, how to look at the God around me and the Christ within myself and others. And when the discipline is lacking, it feels like everything else lags behind.

I'm anxious to begin a study on Christian mysticism...and anxious to begin the weekend! I'm hoping to bellydance a little, read a lot, bake, cook, see friends, quilt, and embroider some Christmas gifts.

sweetness

Cobbler!

I'm sitting here listening to David Bowie and trying to begin the day with some sort of discipline. The dishes are piled up in the sink, but maybe Stephen can do those when he gets home. I have a stack of books to work on my thesis today and a list of phone calls to get through for work. The apartment is in desperate need of a good vaccuuming and I need to wash my hair.

But outside is crisp and cool and our little treehouse looks out to gold and ruby leaves. It's been clear with no rain lately and it's lovely to listen to the autumn wind rustle through the trees outside. This weekend I have been promised a date at our favorite restaurant and the freezer is packed with food (my scale of plenty). We have friends coming over this weekend and I can't stop baking.

How sweet is life!

Rennie, quiet Buddha.


Time passes so quickly it seems, as leaves fall to the ground and we put on sweaters and homemade scarves to keep out the chill. I have been knitting nonstop to get ready for Christmas-two scarves and seven (!) knitted bags to give these season. Stephen is busy with teaching and writing and we find ourselves incredibly fulfilled and satisfied with life, no matter what the bank account says.

Marriage is a never ending lesson in patience and unconditional love. I find myself taking lots of deep breaths and repositioning my thoughts to be those of kindness and gentleness. Sometimes I inwardly curse at the lack of space or the three cats underfoot, but then I think of all the time I get to spend with my husband and the growing intimacy and love we have for each other.

Each day I try and take several moments to be thankful, to breathe, to allow peace to wash over my mind. Sometimes it's in the car or as I wash dishes or right before I fall asleep. I no longer pray the rosary as often as I would like, but these smaller, less formal prayers keep me centered and focused--balanced, really. I'm reading another Thomas Merton book on his monastic vision. Merton has been such a companion and teacher over the years and it seems he always has something new to point out about my imperfect life, just when I need it most. I have been moving away from the Christian mysticism I so greatly admire. Too busy with my own life, I suppose, as is often the case. I would love to live a life of simplicity. I try as best I can to pare down possessions, to not get caught up in money, to live and love simply and well. I think the struggle is the lesson, to go against the grain of what society would like me to believe and live instead another way, not depending on my occupation to define me, or my salary, or my possessions. I want to live as the true self and be seen for my mind and my heart. This is the daily prayer.

Kreativ Blogger Award!

A belated but beloved thank you to the always insightful Speculator for this Kreativ Blogger award. I have been a fan of La Vie en Graphite for some time, and his careful words of spirituality, modern monasticism, and beauty are a constant encouragement and reminder of goodness in the world. Thank you, brother!

As I was tagged for seven things about me, here they are:

1. In high school I began to take learning Spanish seriously and read non-stop in Spanish. I visited Costa Rica when I was 18 and briefly entertained the idea of being a missionary. I would have been stationed in Buenos Aires.

2. I was a costume designer in college for the University of Alabama.

3. It's hard for me to make friends. It's not hard for me to talk to people, but much harder to find that deeper connection. However, the friends I have are dear and cherished.

4. When I was fired from the newspaper that employed me, my writing ego took a big hit. Since February, my blogging has significantly slowed. My husband encouraged me to write more in Lie Down and Sleep, but I couldn't get the motivation to do so. Perhaps this blog award will give me the esteem I needed to continue writing.

5. My favorite thing to do is laugh and make other people laugh. I love to make 'people' up and do voices and characters. Even my cats have voices.

6. I read a lot of feminist theory. I'd like to get my PhD in women's studies.

7. I don't go to church. This puzzles and perhaps frustrates Christians I meet (at least in the South). How can I be so spiritual, so interested in Christianity and orthodoxy, and be so knowledgable about theology, and not belong to a church? I don't readily have the answer. Churches and congregations tend to frustrate me. I thought about converting to Catholicism, going to temple, home churching--the whole of it--and just decided to focus on my prayer life and the practice of the prophetic Jesus rather than the Constintian Jesus touted by the West. I think it's just what works for me.

faith

O, what a week!

Every change of seasons brings a period of unstability, shifting in my mental health. The move from summer to fall is a particularly hard cross to bear for some reason, and this week was unpleasant to say the least. Panic, bouts of small depression and anxiety have all marked my days and I have been trying to stay balanced and centered.

As the days progressed, the angry churning in my brain ceased, until I could quiet myself on my own, even in a room full of people.

Last night I was at a friend's house, and the air was hot and thick with incense. I slipped away unnoticed and walked barefoot in the night, the plush carpet of grass cool and soft under my feet. The moon was out, bathing my skin in iridescent light. I walked among the gardens, the fig trees, the tomatoes and basil and lemon verbena. I saw the stars and heard crickets and frogs. Under the night sky I lay on the grass and felt the earth beneath me, stretching out my fingers to the life around me. There I quieted, hearing the words of poets past praising the beauty of the world, of God's creation.

You see, these things are needed.

As patience wanes with my moods, I pray first, then speak. My husband does not know me angry, my words are soft and gentle. When I am ready to lash out, I check my tongue--will this be in love or in anger? Gentleness or fear? And so the desert ammas are guiding me through my difficult times.

My heart can cry out like David, be patient like Job. This is the meaning of faith.

seeking

My entire life has been a series of journeys, pilgrimmages that I continue to hope will lead me to Truth. Every prayer, each homily, one book more might give me some insight on my purpose here on earth. What does it mean to be stripped away, pruned, refined by Divine fire? How can I communicate with Him, the saints, the Holy Mother?

After reading, pouring over Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, St. Teresa, St. Therese, the desert mothers, I thought my destiny was to be Catholic. I went to the beautiful cathedral here in Memphis and was ready to be baptized at any moment. A collection box for the Dorothy Day House only confirmed that this was my Path. First I needed to go to a class in case I had questions. Stephen and I went, and I had no inquiries. You see, I was ready. I was so ready and focused on my mission to become Catholic that I didn't consider that my views and thoughts on spirituality might be considered quite different than the traditional Catholic church promotes. The class was a disaster. I felt more isolated, more alone, more confused. I couldn't figure out what went wrong. I had been so intent on converting that when obstacles were put in my way I couldn't understand them.

I didn't go back. I was looking for the fire and passion and intensity of the Christian mystics, the ammas and abbas, the early Church authors--the passion of Christ. It just wasn't there. I came home defeated and in tears. Why is this journey so difficult for me?

It seems as though I have inherited my quest for faith from my father. Most of his theology books are now mine and I read and pray with a fury.

I don't think most of my family, in-laws included, can understand this. My husband does, thankfully. But I can't just "go" to a church. Is that odd? I think Christianity is a challenge that most are unwilling to tackle, including me, very often.

We continue because there is a light inside that drives us toward the bigger light, the larger understanding, the greatest Truth. And I will still say my rosaries and pray to the saints and light candles and do all of those things that make me feel closer to Him and closer to what is true for me.

Blessed are those who Seek.

growth

I could talk of answered prayers for jobs--three interviews in two days alone--and I could talk about money worries or nightly scrolling through employment postings looking for something that would provide for us, but I won't. Those things are of the world and unimportant to me now.

Instead I will speak of the amazing things happening in my spiritual life and in Stephen's. We are both signed up for a Jesus Radicals conference in August on Christian anarchy, and then in October we are headed to the Gandhi-King non-violence peace conference held here in Memphis. We are reading Paul Tillich, Soren Kierkegaard, Dorothy Day, Leo Tolstoy, Mary Oliver, Thomas Merton, and St. Teresa of Avila. Every day is a conversation of faith, of where we are headed, together.

Marriage is truly a sacrament, a chance to grow together in the teachings of Christ. We are working side by side, sorting out our spiritual quests, satiating our hungers and thirst for Truth.

God is the foundation on which we walk, we pray, we learn. We are caught up in a frenzy of wanting more from life, a sweetness we devour like hungry animals, partaking in holy communion with the Divine. I am breathing the breeze of Christ; He flows over me like a cool mist; He is present.

Stephen and I are little monastics in the world, living together in community and passion.

Blessed are all the saints, and blessed are those who Seek.