As I begin to write these words it is just after 8.30 in the morning, as the office of Lauds is being said and sung a few miles away at Turvey Abbey Benedictine monastery.
Yesterday, I returned from Turvey after co-leading our first Enneagram weekend of the year, introducing a new group of people to this insightful system of personal and spiritual growth. And what a positive and thoughtful group they were.
At the same time, the six-week online course I’ve been part of, Way of the Monk, Path of the Artist, led by Christine at Abbey of the Arts has ended. I’m grateful to have been a part of this community of people, all of us ordinary yet extraordinary.
I am so full of hope and joy about the groundswell of desire for growth that I sense all around us, and not only because, in the Northern hemisphere at least, spring is beginning to break through the frozen ground. I’ve noticed that increasingly when I talk about what could be seen as a somewhat eccentric preoccupation with Benedictine life and with spiritual and creative growth, people I meet are interested and asking questions. There’s a different feeling around from the days a few years ago when colleagues would look at me as if I’d suddenly grown two heads. Or perhaps I’m simply less tentative in my self.
This morning I read a poem from the awakening hour section of Macrina Widerkehr‘s book seven sacred pauses. It reflects perfectly this sense of grace and renewal that I’m aware of:
What lifts the heron leaning on the air
I praise without a name. A crouch, a flare,
a long stroke through the cumulus of trees,
a shaped thought at the sky – then gone. O rare!
Saint Francis, being happiest on his knees,
would have cried Father! Cry anything you please.
But praise. By any name or none. But praise
the white original burst that lights
the heron on his two soft kissing kites.
When saints praise heaven lit by doves and rays,
I sit by pond scums till the air recites
Its heron back. And doubt all else. But praise.John Ciardi
What grace and renewal can you see in the moments that make up your life?
Image by S Wolfe
Elsewhere:
And as we approach the sacred time of Lent, Claire Bangasser talks about Cultivating our Soul, and Jan Richardson meditates upon Ashes and Sojourner Truth.






{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
this post makes me feel all warm inside which is akin to the amazing posted picture. very nice place you seem to be, dear tess. wishing you many blessings in the days ahead. xoxo
Tess thank you for your words this morning. Somehow they resonated in my heart today on Ash Wednesday. It all makes me want to be more faithful to my own Benedictine way of life. I am so glad you quoted the poem about the heron. It spoke deeply to me of the simple way we can give praise. It can be so tender and quiet. Hopefully we can all give praise today by our simple awareness of the moments and hours.
I feel so much hope and joy, here. It’s a convergence of early spring (cherry blossoms already?), of a lunar new year, and the olympic spirit. Lovely post and picture!
@Lucy: perhaps it’s the warmth of the Hawaiian sun, not my post
Thank you.
@Macrina: thank you for the gift of the heron’s inspiration. In tone and content it seems to me to echo Mary Oliver’s work.
@Roxanne: all kinds of convergences I think. Cherry and apple blossoms are just around the corner for us and are so beautiful.
Your emphasis on praise in this post is uncanny for me, since I’m focusing on offering “a sacrifice of praise” this Lent. That poem is definitely inspiring.
I’m happy for you in your “grace and renewal.” It exudes from this post.
Pollinatrix, thank you, I like that phrase “a sacrifice of praise”, there’s something compelling about it.
Yes, I feel hope, joy and praise in your post, Tess, and it is beautiful. It beauty ripples all the way to my shores… Blessings and thank you.
Claire, hope, joy and praise, what beautiful words they are.
I’m reading this, and typing my comment, while looking over the top of my little laptop out to the majesty of the Pacific Ocean and a beautiful blue sky day. Your post feels extra special to me and the scenery and my thanksgiving may have a little to do with that, but I must echo your wonderful commenters this a.m. feeling you in a new place of confidence and growth. With a blogger pal who has supported my growth efforts for so long, I give thanks for your self recognition of marvelous gifts you give to others!
SS: I think we need some online symbol like a smiley to denote that gesture of mutual recognition the Buddhists do, hands together and bow.
Hello, Tess. What a beautiful photo and poem. Thank you for this blog post which has given me another few moments of grace, renewal & reflection this Sunday morning.
Other moments, all before 8:30 am:
Watching the sun rise as I walked over the bridge to church for morning prayer. Listening to the priest read Mary Oliver’s poem, “Gethsemene” at the start of her homily. Reading these words in the bulletin:
Each day brings an hour of magic.
Listen to it!
Things will whisper their secrets.
You will know
what fills the herbs with goodness,
makes days change into night,
turns the stars
and brings the change of season.
When you have come to know
some of nature’s wise ways
beware of your complacency
for you cannot be wiser than nature. ~ Chief Dan George
Reading Elaine’s comment and reaching ‘listening to the priest dot dot dot at the start of her homily.’ Priest – her homily. Oh, the sudden joy!