May we all be surprised by the Real breaking in through the noise or the silence or the pain, pointing us to the Presence always within and all around us.
It’s almost 2 oclock on Christmas Day…my mother is sleeping and I am deciding to go for a walk in a park in the rain. In the silence I will be open myself to the voice that might be asking me to listen and in the solitude; hope for the grace to help me make my way home. Emmanuel.
I signed on this morning and here at breakfast played the bells for my husband and I cried. I could only imagine the volume, how it would feel reverberating in the body, overwhelming all other senses with celebration and as you say entering present time. I have heard of such things but never imagined them still happening today.
Christmas Eve found me visiting my sick cat in the hospital (privilege, I know) and then staying up near midnight preparing a brunch that was more than anyone needed. So tired, yet not tired, because I am not fleeing bombs or an abusive husband, or having to work three jobs. I do not truly know tired. Yet still your words about feeling whittled down spoke to me. Walking. Thank you.
Becca, thank you so much. Knowing how my words are received and that they move hearts means a lot to me. I know, it is tempting to compare our weariness with all the cruelty on this planet and then telling us we probably should not be weary. But you know what, I arrived at this Christmas season quite weary. And the human thing to do is to tend also to our own weariness as petty as it might appear. It is probably the hardest task, isn't it? Well wishes to your cat also!
Yes, everything you said. And tending to our own weariness often involves setting boundaries, which is hard to do skillfully when one is weary. Your words are comforting and a good reminder to give myself permission to set aside time and Slow Down.
And... just got a call from the animal hospital - my sweet girl will come home today - phew! (c:
May we all be surprised by the Real breaking in through the noise or the silence or the pain, pointing us to the Presence always within and all around us.
Amen.
It’s almost 2 oclock on Christmas Day…my mother is sleeping and I am deciding to go for a walk in a park in the rain. In the silence I will be open myself to the voice that might be asking me to listen and in the solitude; hope for the grace to help me make my way home. Emmanuel.
Blessings in your walking and in your caring, Amy!
I signed on this morning and here at breakfast played the bells for my husband and I cried. I could only imagine the volume, how it would feel reverberating in the body, overwhelming all other senses with celebration and as you say entering present time. I have heard of such things but never imagined them still happening today.
Christmas Eve found me visiting my sick cat in the hospital (privilege, I know) and then staying up near midnight preparing a brunch that was more than anyone needed. So tired, yet not tired, because I am not fleeing bombs or an abusive husband, or having to work three jobs. I do not truly know tired. Yet still your words about feeling whittled down spoke to me. Walking. Thank you.
Becca, thank you so much. Knowing how my words are received and that they move hearts means a lot to me. I know, it is tempting to compare our weariness with all the cruelty on this planet and then telling us we probably should not be weary. But you know what, I arrived at this Christmas season quite weary. And the human thing to do is to tend also to our own weariness as petty as it might appear. It is probably the hardest task, isn't it? Well wishes to your cat also!
Yes, everything you said. And tending to our own weariness often involves setting boundaries, which is hard to do skillfully when one is weary. Your words are comforting and a good reminder to give myself permission to set aside time and Slow Down.
And... just got a call from the animal hospital - my sweet girl will come home today - phew! (c: