Stranded on the Mainland: Inner Pilgrimage and Living Alone as a Spiritual Path:

Happy New Year! Over the Christmas holidays I listened to Krista Tippett interview Roseanne Cash on YouTube. I put a link for the interview at the end of this post. I loved this interview. As it unfolded it dawned on me I was likely listening to an adult child of an alcoholic & dysfunctional family. I saw a kindred spirit writing about her own pain and loss and grief. I saw a woman whose first marriage had ended in divorce. I saw a woman who had adored her father and as a teenager travelled with him when he worked. I saw a woman who when young was deeply affected by her parent's stressful marriage. I saw a woman who had undergone a long Jungian analysis like me. I saw a sister, a mystic, a woman with an urgency to finish her work after confronting her own mortality. And I saw a woman who is happy now and that gives me hope. You know how they say... if you could sit down and have a talk with anyone in the world who would you choose?  In this new year, I think I would choose Rose...

Today I want to blog about walls.  Particularly the ones we build when we have suffered a lot of trauma.  Walls that need to come down one brick at a time.   "Everyone constructs different walls to survive their trauma.... .  The walls built to survive the trauma were genius, they were effective, they were strong. And you can't just knock them down because they are woven into who you are. This is why healing from repeated trauma is often a long term project: you need to slowly take down the bricks and let light in. But the good news is that healing is possible." (Source: Gretchen L. Schmeltzer PhD 2014) .   The good news is that this is also God's country.   As I contemplate the image I chose for my blog today the atmosphere begins to change.   What follows might sound strange.   It's like the image is editing me.  It's hard to explain. But now I'm feeling Advent!   Amen     Unsplash    

“In this season of Advent, we are called to expand the horizons of our hearts, to be amazed by the life which presents itself each day with newness. In order to do this, we must learn to not depend on our own certainties, on our own established strategies, because the Lord comes at a time that we do not imagine. God comes to bring us into a more beautiful and grand dimension."  Pope Francis, Angelus, 27th, November 2016.” Source: universeofhope.org.   Hold hurt's seashell close to your ear. Until the hidden ocean of mercy you hear. Amen unsplash Insight: The hurt IS the heart

Last weekend I watched a mega-marathon political series from the early 2,000's called, The West Wing.  After it was over coincidentally CBC aired, The Wizard of Oz. Two extremes in television programming?  Maybe not?  Strangely there are a lot of similarities between The Wizard of Oz and politics. What else? They still haven't caught who is responsible for the deaths of four college students in Idaho (a friend of mine's home state). People in China are demanding their freedom from Covid lockdowns (I can understand a little better the trucker protest I condemned in Ottawa last year). Men in FIFA soccer matches are standing up to repressive political regimes. Regimes especially hard on women. What else? I sent a birthday card to my dad last week where I wish I'd said less. And one to my mum in October where I wish I'd said more. And I still want to write sister back but I can't find the words. What else? The Salvation Army and the Sisters of Life are still organ...

Backing up my blog posts by copying them by hand is becoming part of my contemplative practice. It's kind of nice backing blogs up this way. It slows me down. I like writing by hand. And I suspect it is a good way to integrate what I have been writing about. Yesterday while I was copying a large batch of blogs by hand, I was also watching for more U.S. midterm election results to come in. It struck me I was (and still am this morning!) working in solidarity with the election workers in Nevada, Arizona, and elsewhere counting ballots.  I have about 40 more blogs to copy. LORD give your strength to my hands, protect my laptop, and keep everyone in U.S. midterm elections safe.   Will need to go out soon for more paper. Amen unsplash I loved learning this! "The noun manuscript evolved from the Latin manu scriptus , meaning “written by hand.” Manu is “hand” and scriptus is “to write." It refers to old documents actually written by hand before books were made, but it can als...

Two of my favourites poets are Emily Dickinson and Maya Angelou.  I discovered Emily Dickinson when I was a girl and Maya Angelou later in life.  There is a certain slant of light.  And still I rise!   Why am I telling you this? Because I have a confession to make about my last post. I left the poetry out. I think I felt vulnerable trying to explain how it felt in my body when I heard Maggie Wheeler's song, Walk With Me .  Or maybe I felt powerful and that scared me? But teacher and mystic James Finley says we have to try and find language to describe these things. Maybe that's why leaving the poetry out of my last post wouldn't let me go? Thankfully I had handwritten how it made me feel in my journal:   I felt the song drop into my body like a pebble dropping in a pond... rippling out and filling me at the same time.  I grinned.  I smiled.  My knees became drums.   It was wonderful!   Thomas Merton wrote something like, "People do...

Are women waning or gaining in the fight for safe and permanent equality? Is it getting better or worse for us today? We are protesting in Iran, in the United States, in Canada and around the world. We pass on the truth to each that we're not walking blind, our ancestors went before us to show us the way. They're with us now, God is with us. We are not alone on our inner and outer pilgrimages. If I could have a theme song for my whole blog it would be the song below by Maggie Wheeler. https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=MHD5Ln3FgQw . Amen

How Can We Make it up to You Poem:  Scars are the benches our souls sit on, and angels, when they come to visit. If you have no scars... that's okay, you can get a stick - on tattoo! Scars are the benches where all souls sit, they are where mystics have coffee with God! and loved ones who don't visit anymore. They are where those who have hurt us, and those we have hurt come to say, how can we make it up to you?   Scarborough, October 29, 2022 Amen   unsplash   (THE STRENGTH IN OUR SCARS) I want to share a related talk on cultivating inner strength, by Tara Brach and Lori Deshene. The Buddhist language can be replaced with Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, and other faith languages. I can imagine Brave teenagers journaling on our benches next Spring! https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=sn68kXvcHMQ

God does provide in unexpected ways. Today I looked down from my balcony. Sorrow turned to surprise when I saw six new trees had been planted in the empty space where the big tree had been cut down earlier this Fall. "You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent." (Psalm 30:11-12). I've never gotten trees as birthday present before! Amen! growbags.co.nz

I found this podcast episode about Teresa of Avila "by accident" this morning. I was just about to publish something I thought was good enough and appropriate for her feast day. But then God seemed to say, "No Carolyn, I want you to have more than good enough and appropriate.  I want you to have this."  And I found this podcast episode. Now I am more than ever convinced that God is with me on this blogging journey. I am also convinced more than ever that the mystics are bridges between the faiths. Bridges that secularism and doubt keep "blowing up". But God never lets the bridges stay blown up. God laughs, snaps invisible fingers-- And suddenly there's another one. I hope you enjoy this discussion about Teresa as much as I did. Happy Feast of St. Teresa of Avila! https://cac.org/podcasts/ bonus-the-life-and-work-of- teresa-of-avila/   Amen   flickr.com  Historic bridge, Avila, Spain

This Thanksgiving I realized that without grief, and loss, and trauma I wouldn't have a spiritual path, or an inner pilgrimage, or a way to work out my salvation. I wouldn't have hope to seek and pass on. I wouldn't believe I could do Love's work. Or that Love could do its work in me. But I am, and it is. Amen

This afternoon I am thinking of the original Beautiful Grief blog I deleted last week.  Now, after the sermon in my building this morning I wish I hadn't deleted it. Why?  Because the sermon made me feel more confident about what I had originally written.  It made me wish I'd saved the blog in my email. So I am going to try and retrieve some of it from memory.  It feels sort of like trying to remember a dream.  Even now, parts of it are coming back to me.  God is good. Here's what I retrieved: Beautiful Grief Recently I heard the best definition for grief I've heard so far on the journey, "Grieving is dealing with what we don't want to deal with". Death; loss, leavings, illness, firings, abandonment, neglect, other indignities suffered, yelling, harsh words, broken promises, hearts, homes, and bones, holidays alone... it's all just so beautiful! Amen unsplash This Thanksgiving I'm grateful for my memory of the pilgrimage the women from my Scarboro...

I find myself sitting tonight in my powerlessness again. Deleting another blog. What is going on Lord? "When God allows us to fall back into our own confusion of desires and judgments and temptations, we carry a scar over that place where that joy exulted for a moment in our hearts.  The scar burns us.  The sore wound aches within us, and we remember we have fallen back into what we are not, and are not yet allowed to remain where God would have us belong.  (Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, p232) .   This explains so much. This is beautiful grief. To touch but not yet be allowed to remain where God would have us belong. Amen

 Sitting in my powerlessness tonight, tired of editing and deleting a blog. I delete it for good. Now I can hear the wind again. and the noise of cars on Warden, (it's not so bad) ""Hark! the loud celestial hymn, In unceasing chorus praising."  Both Wind and Warden cars are saying, I love you, I love you, I love you! Amen   unsplash

Last week I received an unexpected 100% full scholarship for a course on Contemplation and Trauma. We just never know the good things God has in store for us after trials. On that note, I want to share an excerpt from a previous blog which seems to have anticipated this September surprise. Here's the excerpt: "I think God might be calling me to do a return inner pilgrimage this Fall? I don't know what that would look like, mean, entail, or if I could even do it? But I am a hopefully wiser bridesmaid now. A little more healed and humbled so who knows what or who September could bring? I'll keep my lantern and flask of oil ready." September did bring an unexpected surprise. Something to look forward to this Winter!  Thank you CAC!   Amen     unsplash  

One afternoon while I was walking on the beach in Mexico I heard Mary speak these words in my heart:  "I see your every hurt and every dream and promise you one day all your dreams will come true."  Mexico.  Over the years I would try to change the words Mary spoke in my heart. I thought I could make them "read" better.  But I always came back to the way I heard them in my heart the first time on the beach. It still amazes me that Mary saw my hurt. Now about that dream? Amen   The beach in Mexico Photo I took in 1986 💕    

43 hr (2608.7 mi) via 1-35 N. I stumbled upon these driving directions by accident.  All that I was looking to learn was the number of miles between Puerto Vallarta and Toronto? Then, before I knew it, I felt like I was scrolling down my whole inner journey from then to now. The effect of scrolling through the long list of driving directions was showing me the length and complexity of my trauma journey. Here are the directions: Puerto Vallarta to Toronto Head north on Av. de los Grandes Lagos 0.2 mi Turn right onto C. Prisciliano Sánchez 446 ft Sharp left after OXXO (on the left) Pass by Kahui Restaurante-Cafe (on the right) 0.5 mi Turn left after OXXO (on the right) 0.3 mi Turn right onto Av. México Pass by Las Ocho Tostadas (on the right in 0.8 mi) 1.3 mi Turn left onto Av. Las Palmas (signs for Hotel la Terminal) 0.6 mi Turn right onto Av. Francisco Medina Ascencio Pass by Corona (on the right in 0.8 mi) 1.9 mi Continue onto Puente Ameca/Puerto Vallarta - Tepic/Méxic...

“Jesus loves hidden souls. A hidden flower is the most fragrant. I must strive to make the interior of my soul a resting place for the Heart of Jesus." Maria Faustina Kowalska.   SKIPPING SUMMER This year I skipped Summer. Or maybe it skipped me? That said, I take heart in St. Faustina's quote. I never thought of Jesus loving hidden souls. I'm glad to hear it though, Yes this summer was a dud, But what if the Holy Spirit, Was in my soul this summer making, Another resting place-- For the heart of Jesus? What if this summer wasn't a dud?   But one of deep mystery and love? Cb Amen  

From My Journal:  August 23, 2022 11PM Enough. I need silence.  To go to bed and be still.  I'm shutting the television off.  I'm turning the lights off (all of them), forget the pts. I need to lean back against my pillows and just listen to silence.  Then I'm going to dig out Merton again. ~ What I later randomly chose from Merton's New Seeds of Contemplation :  " They sense, by a kind of instinct, that peace lies at the heart of this darkness. Something prompts them to keep still, to trust in God, to be quiet and listen for His voice; to be patient and not get too excited." (237, Merton, New Seeds). Jim Finley said something to the effect of, "Certain books can be excellent spiritual directors."    Grocery shopping tomorrow morning. Amen

"One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it." ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes. (azquotes). Amen

This quote has stuck with me since making my 30 day on-line Ignatian retreat in July.  It's from Michelle Obama's book Becoming.   " When it came to the home-for-dinner dilemma, I installed new boundaries, ones that worked better for me and the girls. We made our schedule and stuck to it. It went back to my wishes for them to grow up strong and centred and also unaccommodating to any form of old-school patriarchy: I didn’t want them ever to believe that life began when the man of the house arrived home. We didn’t wait for Dad. It was his job now to catch up with us.” (source goodreads.com). ― Michelle Obama. Lord help me install new boundaries, ones that work better for living with the effects of trauma.   And like Michelle Obama how I would love to say to some family and others, " It's your job now to catch up with me." Lord in that vein give me humble boundaries: " There is sacrifice involved in letting others be themselves"  (Rut...

"Connection with gardens, even small ones, even potted plants, can become windows to the inner life.  The simple act of stopping and looking at the beauty around us can be prayer."   -  Patricia R. Barrett, The Sacred Garden. For many years I have kept a small statue of Mary on my balcony in the middle of a bridal-wreath-bush.  This morning I moved Mary to a different flowerpot. This makes me think of my friend Sr. Antoniana moving to Washington. I will miss you sister. Cb Amen imagesource:diycraftsfood.trulyhandpicked.com   PS This post is dedicated to Sr. Antoniana Maria SV. I remember hearing somewhere that if you are lucky enough,  you will meet your angel mother in this lifetime. Sr. Antoniana is mine.

Today is the end of my month-long online Ignatian summer retreat. We just finished a closing prayer session on zoom with the Jesuit fathers India who delivered the retreat. Now because it was on zoom I was able to speak with the priest hosting the zoom meeting.  Actually all I said to him was, "Can you hear me?"   And all he said to me was, "Yes, I can hear you" . He could hear me and he said more than just yes.  For the first time on the retreat tears welled up. I thought the closing zoom session was going to be webinar style. Now here I was gathering and sharing with people from India, Africa, England, with Sr. Teresa who was travelling in France, and a Franciscan priest from somewhere I can't remember.  Pretty amazing! To back up a bit, before our zoom session started my old Jesuit spiritual director came to mind.  I was thinking about a movie he once recommended to me, "Million Dollar Baby." At the time I wondered why would fr. Doug ask me to watch...

Pope Francis will be arriving soon in Canada on his Penitential Pilgrimage for the churches role in Canada's residential school system. It struck me this morning (after starting day 24 of my 30-day Ignatian online retreat) that 20 years ago I was also on a 30 day retreat, Women in Transition, when another pope was about to arrive in Canada:  St. Pope JPII, for WYD 2002. If there are no coincidences in the spiritual life, then this has to mean something. I pray the pope's visit will be a gift to all of us who have suffered trauma, in Canada, the U.S. and around the world. There is a tree, In our country's heart so deep. Lord, is it a destination? Or departure point? Toss a coin. Amen Unsplash  

This summer I am reflecting on some poems I wrote in the summer of 1991.  At the time, I was not coping at work.  And I was struggling with having had an abortion.  My important relationships were not going well.  I felt broken, hopeless and alone.  I felt like a failure. It may sound silly but I want to listen to the young woman who wrote them (me).  I'm hoping it might help me fine-tune my purpose as I approach my 60th year this Fall. Which brings me to the poem below.  Before I give you the poem I want to give some context. I wrote "The Candle" on a piece of long yellow legal paper.  I don't know why I'm telling you that?  I was staying at my uncle Tim's for reasons that would take too long to explain.  I was dating a popular local guy, while I still had unresolved feelings for the father of my child (lost to abortion).  Last week I learned that popular guy I dated (not the father of my child), died this spring. He was 68 years ...

Happy belated Canada Day and American 4th of July. Given all that is going on in the world and in our lives these days, I want to share a wonderful 30 Day on-line Ignatian summer retreat.  I discovered this unexpected gem while googling. I will include a link for the retreat at the end of this blog. I don't know what your plans are for the summer?  Maybe you can't afford a 30-day retreat right now, like me?  Maybe transportation costs and issues are keeping you close to home this summer?  Maybe you don't want to leave your pet behind for 30 days, like me?  Maybe you want to maintain your anonymity and privacy?  Or you have other responsibilities? For whatever reason an on-line 30 day Ignatian retreat may work better for some this summer, I am with you.  Just a couple more things about the retreat. It began on July 1st.  It is already underway.  Previous sessions are posted on-line. The new sessions run daily (nightly on this side of the pond...