#Adventword Day 25: Love

Touched by an Angel by Maya Angelou
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free. 

#Adventword Day 24: Delight

MINDFUL by Mary Oliver from Why I Wake Early (Beacon Press)
Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for—
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world—
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant—
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these—
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

#Adventword Day 23: #Relate

Today's poem and picture is courtesy of the Howard Thurman Facebook page.

— from The Mood of Christmas by Howard Thurman

Where refugees seek deliverance that never comes,
and the heart consumes itself, if it would live,
Where little children age before their time,

And life wears down the edges of the mind, 
Where the old man sits with mind grown cold,

While bones and sinew, blood and cell, go slowly down to death,
Where fear companions each day's life,
And Perfect Love seems long delayed.
CHRISTMAS IS WAITING TO BE BORN:
In you, in me, in all mankind." 

#Adventword Day 22: Ask

Prayers: I by Kadya Molodowsky trans. by Kathryn Hellerstein
Don’t let me fall
As a stone falls upon the hard ground.
And don’t let my hands become dry
As the twigs of a tree
When the wind beats down the last leaves.
And when the storm raises dust from the earth
With anger and howling,
Don’t let me become the last fly
Trembling terrified on a windowpane.
Don’t let me fall.
I have asked for so much,
But as a blade of your grass in a distant wild field
Lets drop a seed in the lap of the earth
And dies away,
Sow in me your living breath,
As you sow a seed in the earth.

On our pilgrimage to northern Wales we asked for blessings on our work 

and made votive offerings at Llyn Cerrig Bach. 

#Adventword Day 21: Thanks

THE MORNING WALK by Mary Oliver from Long Life:  Essays and Other Writings 
(Da Capo Press)

There are a lot of words meaning thanks.
Some you can only whisper.
Others you can only sing.
The pewee whistles instead.
The snake turns in circles,
the beaver slaps his tail
on the surface of the pond.
The deer in the pinewoods stamps his hoof.
Goldfinches shine as they float through the air.
A person, sometimes, will hum a little Mahler.
Or put arms around old oak tree.
Or take out lovely pencil and notebook and find a few 
touching, kissing words.

#Adventword Day 20: Heal

The Poet's Obligation by Pablo Neruda

To whoever is not listening to the sea
this Friday morning, to whoever is cooped up
in house or office, factory or woman
or street or mine or harsh prison cell:
to him I come, and, without speaking or looking,
I arrive and open the door of his prison,
and a vibration starts up, vague and insistent,
a great fragment of thunder sets in motion
the rumble of the planet and the foam,
the raucous rivers of the ocean flood,
the star vibrates swiftly in its corona,
and the sea is beating, dying and continuing.

So, drawn on by my destiny,
I ceaselessly must listen to and keep
the sea's lamenting in my awareness,
I must feel the crash of the hard water
and gather it up in a perpetual cup
so that, wherever those in prison may be,
wherever they suffer the autumn's castigation,
I may be there with an errant wave,
I may move, passing through windows,
and hearing me, eyes will glance upward
saying, "How can I reach the sea?"
And I shall broadcast, saying nothing,
the starry echoes of the wave,
a breaking up of foam and of quicksand,
a rustling of salt withdrawing,
the grey cry of sea-birds on the coast.

So, through me, freedom and the sea
will make their answer to the shuttered heart.

#Adventword Day 19: Beautify

Snowy Night by Mary Oliver

Last night, an owl
in the blue dark
tossed
an indeterminate number
of carefully shaped sounds into
the world, in which,
a quarter of a mile away, I happened
to be standing.
I couldn’t tell
which one it was –
the barred or the great-horned
ship of the air –
it was that distant. But, anyway,
aren’t there moments
that are better than knowing something,
and sweeter? Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness. I suppose
if this were someone else’s story
they would have insisted on knowing
whatever is knowable – would have hurried
over the fields
to name it – the owl, I mean.
But it’s mine, this poem of the night,
and I just stood there, listening and holding out
my hands to the soft glitter
falling through the air. I love this world,
but not for its answers.
And I wish good luck to the owl,
whatever its name –
and I wish great welcome to the snow,
whatever its severe and comfortless
and beautiful meaning.

New Year Retreats now open for registration!

Review the year that has passed . . .
             Release what you need to let go . . .
                     Celebrate the milestones of 2014 . . .
                               Reflect on your intentions for 2015 . . .
                                         

This year we are pleased to offer two retreat options to better help you move mindfully into the new year . . . 

Option 1:  At-Home, On-Line

Registration fee is $45. Click here to register.

• Retreat materials sent to you ahead of time include readings, reflection activities, and meditation suggestion

• Work through the exercises and activities according to your own rhythm and schedule

• Periodic emails prompt times to pause for reflection.

• Scheduled opportunities to learn from and share with others via social media or gather your own retreat community to work through the materials in community

Option 2:  In-Person, Half Day Retreat at Washington National Cathedral

Wednesday, December 31 from 10am - 2 pm

Registration Fee is $60. Click here to register.

In addition to the benefits of the At-Home, On-Line option, the half day retreat offers you time to . . . 

• experience the retreat in a community of kindred spirits;

• enjoy guided reflections and meditations;

• explore additional resources and exercises not in the retreat packet; and

• settle into a contemplative rhythm in the quiet alcoves of the Center for Prayer and Pilgrimage with all its resources available to you.

#Adventword Day 18: Become

No End to the Journey by Rumi (trans. by Robert Bly)
No end, no end to the journey
no end, no end never
how can the heart in love
ever stop opening
if you love me,
you won't just die once
in every moment
you will die into me
to be reborn

Into this new love, die
your way begins
on the other side
become the sky
take an axe to the prison wall,
escape
walk out like someone
suddenly born into color
do it now

This picture was taken in Lebanon at the famous cedar trees,which have been decimated by deforestation. So few trees are left standing that when one dies, artists carve the dead wood into religious icons and leave them standing among the living trees.

#Adventword Day 17: Experience

Helplessness by Kerry Hardie

Oh, heart, 
why can’t you learn
that there is nothing to do in the world except live in it?

Why can’t you take its deep gifts –

the birds and the cars in the rain; 
lost keys and the broken-hearted?

In order to be fully, whole-heartedly alive I need to allow myself to #experience not only wonder, mystery, joy and awe but also doubt, confusion, sorrow and despair.

#Adventword Day 16: Focus

Primary Wonder by Denise Levertov
Days pass when I forget the mystery.
Problems insoluble and problems offering
their own ignored solutions
jostle for my attention, they crowd its antechamber
along with a host of diversions, my courtiers, wearing
their colored clothes; caps and bells.
                                                    And then
once more the quiet mystery
is present to me, the throng's clamor
recedes:  the mystery
that there is anything, anything at all,
let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,
rather than void: and that, 0 Lord,
Creator, Hallowed one, You still,
hour by hour sustain it.

#Adventword Day 15: #Expand

All the Hemispheres by Hafez
Leave the familiar for a while.
Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season
Onto the meadow and shores and hills
 
Open up to the Roof.
Make a new watermark on your excitement
And love,

Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day
 
All the hemispheres in existence
Lie beside an equator
In your heart

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven
Are sitting around a fire
Chatting

While stitching themselves together
Into the Great Circle inside of
You

#Adventword Day 14: Risk

MORNING POEM
by Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems:  Volume One  (Beacon Press)

Every morning
the world
is created. 
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies. 
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere. 
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly, 
every morning, 

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy, 
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

#Adventword Day 13: #Act

The Work of Christmas by Howard Thurman

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among brothers,
To make music in the heart.

#Adventword Day 12: #Breathe

Breath by Kabir (trans. by Robert Bly)
Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
You will not find me in stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
not in masses, nor in kirtans, not in legs winding around your
own neck, nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me, you will see me instantly—
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.


I haven't been writing any commentary when offering the poem and picture for Advent but for today will pose a question . .. how would the world be changed if we acknowledged the presence of the Holy in the breath of others?

#Adventword Day 11: #Wake Up

WHY I WAKE EARLY by Mary Oliver from Why I Wake Early (Beacon Press)
Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories, 
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety – 
best preacher that ever was, 
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness, 
to ease us with warm touching, 
to hold us in the great hands of light –
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

#Adventword Day 10: Encourage

Come, Come, Whoever You Are by Rumi
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.Ours is not a caravan of despair.Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times

Come, yet again, come, come.

#Adventword Day 9: #Respond

Personal by Langston Hughes
In an envelope marked:
PERSONAL
God addressed me a letter. 
In an envelope marked:
PERSONAL
I have given my answer.

"Water of Life" fountain created by Stephen Broadbent for Chester Cathedral

#Adventword Day 8: #Show Up

What I Have Learned So Far by Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems (Beacon Press)
Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I
not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside,
looking into the shining world? Because, properly
attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion.
Can one be passionate about the just, the
ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit
to no labor in its cause? I don't think so.


All summations have a beginning, all effect has a
story, all kindness begins with the sown seed.
Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of
light is the crossroads of -- indolence, or action.


Be ignited, or be gone.

This is a picture of the Jesus minaret at the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus. Muslims believe that Jesus will "show up" on this minaret before the final judgment. 

#Adventword Day 7: #Watch

People, Look East by Eleanor Farjeon

People, look east. The time is near
Of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.

Furrows, be glad. Though earth is bare,

One more seed is planted there:
Give up your strength the seed to nourish,
That in course the flower may flourish.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the rose, is on the way.

Birds, though you long have ceased to build,
Guard the nest that must be filled.
Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the bird, is on the way.

Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim
One more light the bowl shall brim,
Shining beyond the frosty weather,
Bright as sun and moon together.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the star, is on the way.

Angels, announce with shouts of mirth
Christ who brings new life to earth.
Set every peak and valley humming
With the word, the Lord is coming.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the Lord, is on the way.

#Adventword Day 6: Notice - A Poem, A Picture and a Song Today

Anthem by Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.

Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring ...

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

#Adventword Day 5: #Abide

The Birds Have Vanished by Li Po

The birds have vanished into the sky,
and now the last cloud drains away.

We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.

#Adventword Day 4: Thrive

God Says Yes to Me by Kaylin Haught from The Palm of Your Hand  (Tilbury House Publishers)

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don't paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said

who knows where she picked that up
what I'm telling you is
Yes Yes Yes

* - Today's image is part of an icon I created in a Creativity as Prayer class we offered earlier this    
     year at the Center for Prayer and Pilgrimage.

#Adventword Day 3: Imagine

Ode by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

We are the music-makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers

And sitting by desolate streams;

World losers and world forsakers,

On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world for ever, it seems.

 

With wonderful deathless ditties

We build up the world’s great cities.

And out of a fabulous story

We fashion an empire’s glory:

One man with a dream, at pleasure,

Shall go forth and conquer a crown;

And three with a new song’s measure

Can trample an empire down.

 

We, in the ages lying

In the buried past of the earth,

Built Nineveh with our sighing,

And Babel itself with our mirth;

And o’erthrew them with prophesying

To the old of the new world’s worth;

For each age is a dream that is dying,

Or one that is coming to birth.

#Adventword Day 2: Remember

Remember by Joy Harjo from How We Became Human (W. W. Norton & Company)
Remember the sky that you were born under, 
know each of the star's stories. 
Remember the moon, know who she is. I met her 
in a bar once in Iowa City. 
Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the 
strongest point of time. Remember sundown 
and the giving away to night. 
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled 
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of 
her life, and her mother's, and hers. 
Remember your father. He is your life also. 
Remember the earth whose skin you are: 
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth 
brown earth, we are earth. 
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their 
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them, 
listen to them. They are alive poems. 
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the 
origin of this universe. I heard her singing Kiowa war 
dance songs at the corner of Fourth and Central once. 
Remember that you are all people and that all people are you. 
Remember that you are this universe and that this universe is you. 
Remember that all is in motion, is growing, is you. 
Remember that language comes from this. 
Remember the dance that language is, that life is. 
Remember.