Transfiguration Morning…

Blued-eyed sky and Sunlight

There is Peace here.
This morning the sky is blued-eyed — cloudless and bright…  sunlight has clothed the wetland wood across my gravel road and every green hue is alive with  its touch.
It is an August morning — the Feast of the Transfiguration — and my world awoke to this quiet beauty — the breathing of the sea-tides echoing in my chest… the rise and fall of my own rhythm — my heart keeping the beat.

I am sitting in this Quiet.
There are dishes waiting in my sink — remnants of a quick dinner before writing my paper that was due at midnight… they have been patient and will soon be clean again, but they are quiet as they wait.
The boys have had their morning meds with breakfast, the cats are resting from their nocturnal play…
In this moment nothing is clamoring for my attention.

I can feel this new day washing over my corner of the world — what is this magic that keeps us spinning through time — ever forward, ever onward? Is it this Quiet – this Foundation-of-Everything holding us all together? It is holding me here — cradling us all, just waiting to be recognized… to be known.

“If today you hear His voice, harden not your hearts.”

Inside, we’re all longing to be mystics — longing to know and be known — to sit in the Silence of ourselves surrounded by the bustle and noise of living. We’re all yearning for connection — to have Light clothe us in our innate hues and reveal our beauty to the world. Can’t you see the brightness of summer’s-light in the eyes of those around you? We’re all seeking Communion… Be gentle in your gaze — soft, compassionate eyes are the key to sight here.  Be kind, and See.

“Be still, and know…”


Surprise and Storm…

A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh

This box set arrived today… Four books-in-a-box, waiting in my mailbox, until I discovered them after choir practice this evening. I had no idea they would arrive so quickly — it’s as if they knew how bumpy my day was today and arrived early to make me smile.

I spent a good portion of Saturday hunting for this boxed set that I already own — but it seems to have been lost in the last move. It felt so wrong to not have these poems and stories here, I had to break down and order another set (which thankfully I found for half off). This is officially my third set — A. A. Milne, what would I do without the smiles and memories your words bring? These books have been a part of me for so long — I was so little when I first read them… it’s such a comfort just to see their covers (and yes, I’ve already been reading them)!

This past weekend I had family visit for the first time in a long time… I discovered that I have no trouble behaving like a normal thrilled person if I know loved ones are coming and I have been preparing to see them all week — but it turns out if someone dear to my heart that I haven’t seen in many months surprises me — I scream and almost collapse on the floor, then run and grab them and sob on their shoulder like I’ll never let them go…  It was good there was only one surprise person — one more and I might have had a heart-attack… :)(I had this same reaction years ago to a loved-one-surprise, apparently time doesn’t change everything.)

But, I feel like there have been so many tears in the past few days… We all grow weary when the world is heavy, and the world is much heavier when there’s no one to share its weight. It was so good to see family… they are all far away — there’s little they can do to lighten life’s load — and yet what is done can make such a difference… I’m not invisible. When I hear the roar of the sea – when she is marbled gray and white, and the wind of her breath whips my hair around my face with a coming storm – then I may feel the storm within, but I’m not facing it as alone as it seems… let the tears fall in defiance.

Still, may gentle seas come soon for us all…


Shared Stories…

The view from St. Mary’s after Mass this morning

This morning I stayed after Mass and spoke with some people from our parish that have been working in Haiti for the last 15 years… They are involved now with a woman’s fair trade artisan co-op (Atelye Thevenet), and their son also works with the coffee/cocoa bean farmers of Cafe Cocano.  The couple is probably a couple decades older than I am, but speaking with this woman who could have been my mother was such an encouragement. I mean, we were encouraging each other — but I’m sure the conversation meant more to me… I don’t get to talk with people very often. As I had to cut the conversation short to get back to the boys she told me, “Let me give you a hug.” She hugged me and spontaneously prayed for us — then told me I was the first person she’s hugged outside of family in years because of Covid… I started crying in her arms — it’s just been awhile since someone hugged me other than The Philosopher… and life feels like one long day right now — I’m perpetually tired. I was caught off guard to have someone hold me – even briefly. This week, when the conversations at work are hard, and life is too much, I will close my eyes and remember that hug…

I came home to start our little Christmas in July celebration. The stockings I put together last night were delivered to the boys. There were brownies to bake and a yummy “echo-of-Christmas-meal” to whip up. In between the celebrating, I somehow managed to finish all the schoolwork that had piled up for this weekend — and I even remembered to take the garbage out. :) The thermostat still needs to be fixed — but we have a heat advisory in place until Thursday, so I’m not worried about getting the furnace working immediately.

That conversation and hug made my day so much “lighter”… there was a burden lifted just in sharing stories with another soul… to be reminded that my story still has value.

Remember to listen to those who cross your path — we all need to know our stories matter.
Be gentle with each other…

# atelyethevenet



John O’Donahue… “Equilibrium”

It has been a long, exhausting week. The next two days are supposed to be days of rest — but I have a lot to do. I’m trying to keep things in balance…  but I think I need an extra day in the week, or maybe another four or five hours each day? The tears came again today while driving home from an overwhelming trip to the store — simple things are harder than they should be…

Tonight my mind was too spent to work on my Shakespeare class, so in-between putting in the new thermostat, playing piano for evening mass, and my life coach appt in the afternoon – tomorrow will be all about Shakespeare.  I really hope the thermostat doesn’t take too long…

Life seems to have me constantly on the go right now — where is the pause button?
I opened to O’Donahue’s “Equilibrium” tonight and stole a few moments to savor his shared-thoughts — his words never cease to echo like a tuning fork — ringing a pure tone for my internal life.
I love how this particular poem opens and closes with a laughter blessing…
‘Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
To hear in the depths the laughter of God.’

May we all hear the echo of laughter in life’s depths… Joy is not bound by the shores of our circumstances.
May we find Peace and Rest — Equilibrium…

Be kind out there fellow Earth-riders — we’re all just trying to keep our balance as we spin around the sun.



St. Mary’s after Mass and my front porch this evening

The tide was out this morning after Mass — I stood briefly on the bluff in front of St. Mary’s to close my eyes and feel its rhythm…  the breeze on my face heavy with the scent of the sea. Then it was time to get home and bring Eucharist to my boys — a bit of Thanksgiving and Peace for the week ahead.

The day has been spent in Quiet – my Shakespeare paper finished yesterday meant today was free to simply straighten our home a little and just rest…

This evening I am sitting here on the porch — the sun gentle on my shoulders and face now as it heads towards meeting with the sea — together they will paint the sky and the far horizon with the coming sunset. It was harsh at midday today — even with the breeze — but now there is a softness in its warmth as the day draws to a close.  Sitting here, the sound of the sea is a comforting roar in my chest — the tide was at its height not long ago and it still sounds like it. The breeze off the sea is stronger tonight than it was this morning – dancing with the leaves in the trees, making the shadows shimmer – every once in awhile a gust whips my hair around my face and fills my lungs with the fullness of the seaside in the summer… sun-warmed grasses and sand, the lake and creeks nearby, the heat of the roads in the area, the wet-earth and bracken of the woods… and of course — the sea.

Can you feel its rhythm — can you hear its echo inside as the tide of your own breath fills your lungs with life?

We all breathe the same air.  We’re all rocked to the rhythm of our heartbeats — all the same… all living and loving on land that eventually meets the sea. Love is the only appropriate response to the beauty of our shared humanity – our shared rhythm of life.

There’s still hope for us.