Monday, May 31, 2010
Off to a silent pilgrimage at/in/with the community at Christ in the Desert Monastery.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31
and does not understanding raise her voice?
On the heights, beside the way,
at the crossroads she takes her stand;
beside the gates in front of the town,
at the entrance of the portals she cries out:
"To you, O people, I call,
and my cry is to all that live."
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Click here to learn more about this experience.
Friday, May 7, 2010
First is the Afghan saying, "The world is a traveler's inn."
Indeed: we find places in and around our lives to rest in and upon.
And the second is like it:
Pilgrims are poets who create by taking journeys, by Richard Reinhold Niebuhr. As I work on yet one more essay, I know that my creativity is fed by living and breathing and drinking deeply from life.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
HAYWARD — Before John Parente enters his classroom, he places his hands together in front of his chest, palms facing each other and fingers pointed upward. As soon as he makes his first step through the door, he carefully takes his next step directly in front of his previous step.That continues for about 30 seconds, until he reaches his desk, normally a five-second walk.
Parente's students soon follow, trickling in one by one, one tiny step at a time.
"Most of their lives, these students are rushing around multi-tasking and there is no silence in their lives," Parente said. "It is a way for them to draw attention into the moment."
The way Parente is walking comes from the practices of Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Zen Buddhist who focuses on bringing the mind and spirit together.
Got to try this...
Monday, May 3, 2010
O You Who've gone on Pilgrimage
O you who've gone on pilgrimage -
where are you, where, oh where?
Here, here is the Beloved!
Oh come now, come, oh come!
Your friend, he is your neighbor,
he is next to your wall -
You, erring in the desert -
what air of love is this?
If you'd see the Beloved's
form without any form -
You are the house, the master,
You are the Kaaba, you! . . .
Where is a bunch of roses,
if you would be this garden?
Where, one soul's pearly essence
when you're the Sea of God?
That's true - and yet your troubles
may turn to treasures rich -
How sad that you yourself veil
the treasure that is yours!