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

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