A gentle Breeze
A Midweek Blessing on a spirit moment or: the grace of being seen
The aroma of lilac and roses lingers in the air, birds are singing. I am sitting on our front porch witnessing this symphony of creation.
Today I want to share with you a humble Pentecost experience:
I was laying on my Chinese doctor’s cot, while she was poking needles into me.
“You have a good energy today,” she says.
“That is good, energy coming back is good — you are getting better…,” she concluded.
I am always in awe about her healing arts that Western medicine does not quite understand.
To sense some one’s health when one enters the room.
To diagnose and to heal with not much more data available than your pulse, tongue and eyes.
Just recently the NYT published an article about a third circular system, the interstitium, Western science just found by accident.
Chinese doctors have been working it for Millennia.
Scientific humility seems as difficult as religious humility — but this is a reflection for another day.
My doctor was in good spirits, she had just moved her clinic into a new location, more accessible, better light.
“I like your presence,” she says, working her way along the meridians, “a gentle presence when you come into the room…”
My doctor knows me since a few years now, and usually she comments on energy patterns, my overall health, and tries to calm this sensitive soul who seems to take more in than she can carry.
But today is different. Her words are washing over me like an unexpected gift. It feels like being seen in the depth of my soul. Beneath the bare body in front of her. Beneath the titles in front of my name. Beneath my short bio on the internet.
For a moment she holds my heart.
“I like the kind spirit and warmth you bring to a room…,” she concludes.
“It is in my name…”, I whisper, while she finishes with the last needle right into the crown of my head.
“Almut is old German for tender spirit,” I say, “I am trying to grow into that name…”
I could feel her smiling at the end of the cot right above my head.
“Nice,” she says.
“Now, relax!” — and out she went.
Leaving me with her words and the needles behind.
And there I was, dear people, stripped down, lying on a cot in an empty room, closing my eyes.
Being seen is an odd feeling, isn’t it?
And often it comes as a surprise.
When we expect it the least but need it the most.
And how I did need this spirit moment!
This moment of being seen, seen in my heart of hearts, stripped down from all the add ons and belongings and achievements we make our life to be.
The spontaneous words of my doctor reminded me of my truth. Of being called by my name, deeply and truly.
Her words reminded me of the gift given to me, which I so often experience as a burden, like when you pour water into too small a cup. But which is also the one thing that has stayed with me when everything else was stripped away.
And so, her kind words, left in my heart like the needles in my body, percolated in me, just like the sweet sent of lilac on the front porch.
God’s spirit isn’t in the storm cloud, the Bible says, nor can we find it in the earthquake.
Instead Spirit comes to us in the tender humming of a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11-12), just like the gentle breeze of Spring kissing your forehead.
It sometimes happens in churches.
It often happens elsewhere.
Because the Spirit, dear friend, blows where she will.
In the symphony of creation in your front yard, in a wise word shared by a stranger, in a joyful melody sung by a child, in the gaze of the lover who sees your heart.
And — in the kindness of a doctor who meets you beneath your pain.
May Spirit gentle breathe life into you also.
Much love to you in this season of Pentecost, Almut
PS: If you can, leave a heart, a word or a line which resonated with you in the comments, so we know you have been here :-)
To Ponder:
Do you know the meaning of your name? What does it mean for you?
Have you experienced a spirit moment lately? Feel free to share it.
Coming up at The Cloister
Please register for the last Moral Monday of the season, on June 1, 2026 at 6:30 PM, Central Time.
We gather on these Mondays to think about current issues in our world and in our lives, to share our concerns, and to light a candle at the end. This time we will read a short essay by our Chuck Huff on the Republican politician Liz Cheney and the role of truth and virtue in our world today. And since this is our last circle for the season we will also share some thoughts about where our Moral Monday gatherings may lead come Fall.
Truth has become a tool rather than a benchmark. Liz Cheney’s dedication to telling the truth of the storming of the Capitol on Jan 6, 2021 shows us how closely truth and virtue are connected. When pride and power shut down critique, then we lose truth. But we also lose virtue, because we cannot become better persons without learning from critique.
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Your name is wonderful! What a gift to be named “tender spirit” ♥️
A lovely read, thank you. “Now Relax” made me chuckle :)