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

Last week I watched the replay of Jim Finley's 2025 Advent Retreat from St. Monica's in California. The theme of the retreat was: Advent Sermon by Meister Eckhart. Not very exciting or relevant today you might think, but not so. Next. What stood out for me in the retreat was Jim saying, "But God comes anyway."  Below are some thoughts on this from my journal: I can twist myself into knots trying to decide whether to go to a Christmas event, to buy a new winter coat, or couch, or to have my apartment repainted, but God comes anyway. Family situations can be hard at Christmas, but Jesus comes anyway. I'm not sure this is where I should be living, but God comes anyway. And then nine floors up-- Eckhart's ground Finley talks about in the retreat breaks through and  sunset paints my living room. (for free!) . God comes anyway. Whether there is peace on earth or not, in politics, in families, at church, at work, in prayer, everywhere. Love comes anyway. Sometimes it...

This Sunday will be Joy Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent. Two things: I woke this morning thinking of images in the news of Toy Mountain and the Salvation Army . I'm also listening to a talk on prolonged grief.  I'll put a link at the end of this post in case it might be helpful to you or someone you know during the Christmas season. Now a poem: I imagine a growing cross that is Toy Mountain. I imagine people bringing an unwrapped gift, and an unwrapped loss. I see wounded givers and receivers, wounded grievers and healers. and Joy untranslatable. Cb Amen Navigating Grief talk: Bing Videos image:clipart Music:  Bing Videos Please remember to donate to the Salvation Army Red Kettles if you're in the malls this week! Thank you and God Bless

On this the last day of my  Being Presence  retreat with Jim Finley, it's the CAC Daily Meditation that's pulling it all together for me. To explain, I'm paraphrasing from today's Daily Meditation with Richard Rohr quoting psychiatrist and theologian Gerald May, "The Dark Night isn't called "dark" because it is in some way sinister, it is called dark because liberation (rescue) takes place in the dark: Trusting the Unknown Path — Center for Action and Contemplation I'm thinking of my blog title " Stranded on the Mainland -- rescue doesn't happen on a beautiful bright perfect summer day when the family's all together again, but in a beautiful bright imperfect Dark Night of the Soul when I'm "alone." At least that how it's happening for me on a snowy winter day east of Toronto right now. Finally and for now, it seems "when I wasn't watching," God shifted gears and drove a red convertible into the empty p...

Today I'm realizing something I never considered before: "How I as a straight, white, Christian woman-- being treated with fairness can feel like oppression." Wow. And flipping this over-- how oppression and mistreatment can feel like fairness and love. Wow. With that said, the prophetic talk below is not one I would typically think of as an Advent talk, but it is-- especially in 2025 in this world full of people who oppose each other's values. American democracy is bleeding out; now Canadian environmental guardrails are sadly beginning to fail. For those of us with e yes to see and ears to hear , this is a time of clashing and crashing values-- if our values were being traded on the stock market it would be 1920. We don't know where all this worldly chaos is heading, it's true. But we have the Prophet's Candle (old and new). And we have Hope. And we have this prophetic Advent challenge in a podcast episode from The Center for Action and Contemplation, Le...

I just finished listening (again) to Howard Thurman's commencement speech to Spelman college students in Georgia (1980).  As someone who used to help write political speeches, I loved this one-- the contemplative slowness, pauses, and the retelling of a remarkable story I had not heard before,  The Blue Cat of Castle Town . Given that Thurman's speech was to college students, it made me think of prime minister Carney's pre-budget speech to students at the University of Ottawa last week. Which is making me think of a joint announcement on semi modular reactors made by prime minister Carney and premier Doug Ford in Toronto last week. The resounding (for me) mic-drop moment of the joint announcement came at the end of Carney's remarks when he "whispered" to Ford, "I got us to first, maybe even second, now you bring it home premier." Pause. Fast forward: Now  I 'm imagining Howard Thurman giving the same 1980 Spelman College speech, "The Sound o...

Thanksgiving Day and Another Bus Story: This Saturday I will again get on a bus at the corner of Warden and Lawrence. An old man will get on the bus several stops later. The bus will jerk away from the curb sharply. Crackers from the paper cup the man is holding will spill to the floor (can you see it?). The old man will pick up as many crackers as he can from the bus floor and put them back in his cup. I will ask, "can I help you sir?" He will shake his head no, saying, "I just need to sit down." Someone will stand and give the man a seat. I will dig in my wallet for change, I will slip a dollar into the old man's torn suit pocket. A cup of crackers on a bus will become a communion cup, a homeless man's pocket a collection plate.  "O my Lord and my God," I wish I had given more" (John 20:28). Praying for Iris who I hope found her wallet. Cb Amen

There are many reasons to sob today: Wars, fear of losing loved ones, losing loved ones, climate change, hunger, pain, illness, abuse of power, crime, poverty, racism, politics. I could go on. Then one day, a couple of weeks ago, I'm on the bus. It's like a relay-race torch gets passed from 'all the darkness' in the world to an overwhelming love for everyone-on-the-bus. I'm having an experience like Merton's Fourth and Walnut Experience ( thomas_merton_fourth_and_ walnut.pdf ). Breathe. Here's the experience: I live in a very diverse neighbourhood: Yesterday I was on the bus-- on my way to get some groceries for the weekend. I had to hold myself back from sobbing-- from years of grief and new joy pouring out. I was standing beside a very old Muslim woman... around my mother's age. She was dressed all in black with a veil, not unlike some old nuns I've known. She was rubbing her knee with her hand and I could tell by her face that it hurt. I tried to ...

Seeing Through the Eyes of Love: Weekly Summary — Center for Action and Contemplation .  "Why do we love each other? The best love tastes of "without a why."  I wrote the poem below inspired by today's CAC Daily Meditations and Meister Eckhart. So too is it the poetic intention for my year-long course on  Engaged Contemplation--  which officially opens today at midnight. Here's the poem inspired by today's CAC Daily Meditation, Meister Eckhart, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet 43: How do I love thee-- let me forget the why's. How do I dismiss,  judge, miss you? Let me forget, this-- too. How do I love you-- to the depth and breadth and height  my  soul can't  reach? Cb Amen image:unsplash

The timing of God continues to surprise me. For example: this spring I planted Chinese forget-me-not seeds on my balcony-- I got green leaves, but no flowers bloomed. So with Fall on the doorstep, I think about not watering them anymore-- but I can't do it. I keep watering. Then on Monday (the Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows) to my astonishment I see pink buds on one tall green stem. On Tuesday I see MORE buds on more stems. Overnight everything has changed. Buds are blooming. The gorgeous blossoms smell like sunscreen. And yes, it's true, these plants will die, but I've learned forget-me-nots are self-seeding and should bloom again next Spring. Amazing. I think of my young friend Gabbie in heaven. I think of a kid's song I heard being taught in church (on-line) last Sunday: He's got the whole world in his hands! The grief, the love, the past, present, future and flowers too! Next, I wonder this: If forget-me-not flowers can bloom in poor soil and poor conditions on...

Between Emily Dickinson's Amherst and my own-- I refill my holy water bottle light a candle say a prayer, and set out to return-- But not necessarily in that order! Cb Amen The Work of Poets in the 21st Century? | Q&A #3 : SHINE JESUS SHINE!

As I continue to sit with the question of whether or not to wrap up my blog at the end of the summer, I sit also with the story of the Prodigal Son . And like in the Prodigal Son , my blog  Stranded on the Mainland has it's roots in the loss of and longing for, home. Below are some mid-August thoughts on this: WHAT IF the daughter didn't want to leave home like the prodigal son did, what if she was sent to the city? What if she doesn't squander her "inheritance" at all, but is (unbeknownst to most, including herself) is amassing a treasure, a fortune, and spiritual inheritance, "one that protects her from nothing and sustains her in everything."--Jim Finley. WHAT IF it's the daughter who through therapy and grace brings back a new robe for her traumatized self to put on, a ring for her finger, and sandals for her feet? WHAT IF it's the daughter who's preparing the roast beef dinner? And the daughter rushing down the road to meet her true sel...

Can't sleep tonight. I'm thinking about the ruling read today by the justice in the Hockey Canada sex assault trial in London. I'm thinking about how E.M. must be feeling. I recall that last week I listened on-line to the epilogue from Thomas Merton's book,  The Sign of Jonas . Am I on "fire watch" tonight walking through a silent inner courtroom? Next. I am struck by a quote from one of E.M.'s lawyers (whose name I've lost track of at the moment). I think it was her civil lawyer? He told a CBC reporter, in response to justice Carroccia saying E.M.'s testimony was not credible or reliable, that he thinks,  "inconsistency is suggestive of truth and reality." I have experienced this to be true. I exit the "silent courtroom" with the last eleven words of Merton's,  The Sign of Jonas  epilogue reverberating a higher verdict,  "and leaves stir behind the hushed flight of an escaping dove."  Cb Amen Thomas Merton, "...

With summer quietly crossing over into the second half of July, I'm continuing to think about wrapping up my blog. Then, I listen to Thomas Merton's,  The Seven Storey Mountain on-line: I'm struck by the line, "It was my defeat that was to be the occasion of my rescue." I think of my blog title (Stranded on the Mainland): I think of difficulties with my mother, of losses around my own maternity, of having been a wife, a friend, aunt, niece, cousin, a social worker, a political staffer, a postulant, a coworker. Were all these defeats to be as Merton says, occasions for God to rescue me? This is amazing if so. And I believe it is so. Breathe. I feel the pain of love and loss loosening it's grip, when all is said and done. Warren Zevon - Keep Me in Your Heart Cb Amen image:pixabay

SANTA SUBITO. Deep breath. Yesterday I learned in the best and gentlest way possible that my friend Gabbie passed away on January 12, 2025. It was Gabbie who encouraged me to start blogging during Covid-19 lockdowns in Toronto. I want to say more about my friend Gabbie and our connection through the Sisters of Life, but not right now. My heart is too full of love and joy and grief, and honestly just awe. I'm stopped in my tracks for now... I heard a song today during  Canada Day  celebrations that made me think of Gabbie. It's  I Believe in You , by Amanda Marshall:  Bing Videos . Gabbie believed in me and she loved Jesus so much-- both of which I benefitted from so much. Thanks Gabs💕 I don't know whether Gabbie will be put forward as a potential Catholic saint, I hope so. Gabbie and I actually never met in person but we shared the same taste in boots and hats. Our friendship began through an extraordinary snail mail adventure in the middle of covid lockdowns, it de...

I'm thinking of wrapping up my blog this summer. W hat quote would I use to close out a last post? Two quotes come to my mind: One I've known for awhile; the other I met recently. I imagine combining these two quotes  into one, new, paraphrased piece of advice and note to self going forward. " Keep your eye fixed on the mainland, and love God and do what you will ." --Etty Hillesum and St. Augustine. Amen Sources: Credit CAC:Etty Hillesum's Little Way for a Secular Age, Church Life Journal, University of Notre Dame [10] Augustine, Confessions, 8.12.29 imagesource:coolthings.com 💕

I'm still thinking of another disrespectful tweet from south of the border today. Makes me think of a fairytale that was read by Jungian, Clarissa Pinkola Estes (circa 2012 Toronto). Below is a paraphrase of this reading. I tried to find it, but don't think it's on the internet, ergo this paraphrased summary from my memory below:  Once upon a time,  A poor unaware man finds himself in a situation where he can have anything he wants. First he askes for a big house. It is given. Then he asks to be rich, successful, admired. This too is given. Then he pushes the limits of his luck even further-- he asks to become King, Emperor, president of the United States. But even this is not enough for the poor unaware man!  Now he wants to be Pope too. Now the man has asked too much. Continuing. I share this fairytale summary in the context of an American president photoshopping a picture of himself in the garb of Pope Francis.  I share it in the context of Francis' death and a co...

It's late. I wake up an hour into the Funeral Mass for Pope Francis in Rome. I turn on the television. The station that comes on is City News and it has distracting news headlines crawling across the bottom of the screen. With that said, my remote control is not working again. So, because I can't change channels easily, I surrender to the couch and prepare to watch the whole thing on one channel. Today is also the vigil of the Feast of Divine Mercy. My lectio last night was from St. Faustina's Diary (884):  "Oh, how beautiful is the world of the spirit! And so real that, by comparison, the exterior life is just a vain illusion and powerlessness."   The camera zooms in on presidents and heads of state, watch my temptation to judge. Deep breath. At the beginning of this post I mentioned distracting news headlines. I don't know what moves me to write them down in my journal while watching the funeral? Maybe for me they are a kind of necessary Canadian context g...

I'm at my local grocery store enjoying all the people. In the check-out line a man and I start talking. We're talking about (among other things) our favourite childhood cereal. I tell him I love talking to people in line-- I say I'm a writer who works at home and I don't get out much! The man asks what kind of writer I am? I tell him I'm a blogger and I write about 'faith and trauma'.  What comes next takes me by surprise: The man asks, "Would you like to have an  International Women's Day  pin?" Long story short I say, "yes,"-- I add that I wrote a paper on International Women's Day while at university. Next, as the man digs in his coat pocket for the pin, I notice the printing on his sleeve--it says UNIFOR. I'm getting emotional. All this is really hitting me for some reason? Pause. Continuing, he finds it (the pin). I reach out my right hand to accept it, and with my left hand I point to the  Miraculous Medal  on my coat. I...

Timing is everything: Around 8:35PM on Saturday, April 12 in Scarborough Ontario, I unexpectedly found myself at a Carmelite Palm Sunday mass-- LIVE from Lismore, Australia. Seems I made it to Palm Sunday mass one day ahead of time-- or behind? I'm still not sure? Then next morning, I watch the recorded Palm Sunday mass from St. Basil's in Ottawa: At the blessing of the palms, the priest looks directly into the zoom camera. Poetically speaking, our eyes meet and he splashes holy water right at my screen. I bow my head and cross myself saying-- Father, Son, Holy Spirit . Now I fast forward back to a recent (for me)  Carmelite Horizon's talk on the struggles of St. Teresa of Avila to pray. Are you with me still? Good. So the talk is about St. Teresa being weak and wounded. I too am weak and wounded when it comes to political temptation; I struggle to pray when politics is happening all around me. I can binge on opinions, political shows, and polls until I'm overwhelmed (...

We are almost at the halfway point of the Canadian federal election. Mark Carney is still leading in the polls-- But, they're tightening with conservatives closing the gap. That said, I had a chance this weekend to speak to regular renters (millennials, older and seniors). My Spidey sense tells me that liberals need to start talking about a rent-rebate program to replace the carbon rebate. I know folks who work in banks, daycares and offices who count on the carbon rebate. Many folks I talked to didn't know the carbon rebate was ending until I told them. They say they may vote NDP next time if the liberals win, this time. I just might too if we're not made whole after the election.  Continuing. I will be very transparent here: I was rennovicted from my downtown Toronto Holyburn apartment in 2019. I am now learning that Mark Carney is connected to the company (Brookfield) that rennovicted me. That's a gut punch, being a federal liberal voter. Next. I think Mark Carney co...

"Lent is not about a hungry Jesus." --Bishop Greg Homeming O.C.D. Continuing. The context, as I'm feeling it for this Lent, is one of being in the middle of a Canadian election and unwanted trade war with the United States-- also of being at the beginning of the  Jubilee Year of Hope (Pope Francis). Which makes me wonder: As a woman who struggles with herself and God can I even be a pilgrim of hope? Can the politicians I'm voting for and the people I'm trying to love be pilgrims of hope? Can the elephant in the room be a pilgrim of hope? What love drives me into the desert? What love drives me to the polls? Beloved. Cb Amen PS. I'm thinking of Bishop Greg's three Lenten talks for 2025.  I think the additional talk below could have been the 4th even though it's from 2019-- so I'm adding it. Lenten Talk 4 – Jesus as He relates to Himself

We are coming to the end of the first week of Lent.   That said, I'm asking myself the same question I heard someone else being asked on TV-- "What is the end game for your life?" At first I thought this was good and wise, practical question to be asking of myself too. I never thought it might be a temptation not to hope.  Now I'm thinking that's exactly what it is, especially after listening to the Lenten talk below, in this,  The Jubilee Year of Hope: 2025 Lenten Talk 1 Bishop Greg Homeming OCD Lismore Australia Continuing. With everything happening in the world right now, I'm grateful to find these beautiful talks while so much of my Lenten journey is still ahead of me.  "There is still hope for a future and we are part of it." --Bishop Greg Homeming OCD. I am a part of it too, and you. Cb Amen

I finish my blog today (March 2nd) grateful for Fr. Richard Rohr's teaching on:  My Story, Our Story, THE Story — Center for Action and Contemplation .  And grateful to Fr. Morgan who introduced me to the CAC. With that said, last Friday Donald Trump ambushed Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy in a meeting in the Oval Office (was it only a week ago?). Then Trump had Zelenskyy thrown out of the White House for seemingly trying to defend himself and his country-- for correcting untruths and for continuing to put truth on the record .  It took me back to a time when I was thrown out of the house for rightly or wrongly trying to defend myself and someone else. Breathe. There was a time when the Oval Office fight would have triggered a days-long (and not minutes-long), post traumatic distress response in me-- instead it turned out to be an opportunity to heal a memory. Continuing. So I think what a good political therapist might say about all this is that: " Hurting peopl...

I'm reading Hafiz and stop at this line:  "Stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive."  (254, The Gift).  I write in my journal:  Birds singing, kids playing outside, rain on a tin roof. Then I read a poem by Palestinian poet Masab Abu Toha in CAC's Daily Mediation for Ash Wednesday.  The poem is called Sobbing Without Sound : See :  Universal Sadness — Center for Action and Contemplation .    I'm right there with the poet-- his poem a cross on my forehead as Lent begins. Next, I respond to Masab's poem with one of my own. Poets are connected to each other. Meeting up on our oceans of grief, and deserts of longing-- We can break at a little. We can break at a lot. Ah, but when we bend, " the so called 'tin cry' can be heard. Cb Amen I want Masab to know that the sound of the silent sobbing he writes about, is heard like big tin sheets being struck within me and others. I'm thinking of the Hafiz quote I used at the beginning of ...

Today is E (election)-day in Ontario.  It's snowing, this is not such a good sign for an already very low voter turnout in advance polls.  On the other hand, I don't think that low voter turnout means that deep, important changes are not happening under the surface-- I can feel the desire for an un-namable change in me, "there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary of holding it in, and I cannot" (Jeremiah 29:9). What is this something? I'm thinking of Newfoundland and Labrador premier Andrew Furey who announced (this week) that he is leaving politics and returning to his community to work full-time as an orthopedic trauma surgeon. Premier Furey's media announcement and Q&A that followed was a fireplace poker in my memory. I'm thinking of a car accident I had in the early 1980's and how an Ontario orthopedic trauma surgeon put me back together again. Breathe. What am I weary of holding in? What also is aching humankind-- w...

I don't know why, the picture of the bag at the bottom of this post made me think of 'go-bags.' Ever since a fire in our building, I've tried to keep one packed for me and my cat. Next. I've been wondering what it was like for Mary in Ephesus after Jesus died? I imagine it gave her distance from the grief and loss. I imagine she could be anonymous in Ephesus. That there were fewer triggers. That it was easier to breathe, although I imagine she had trouble sleeping. I imagine there were nightmares, flashbacks, anxiety, depression; and for some reason-- I think she had a  Go-Bag. Cb Amen imagesource:pinterest

In these uncertain political times many of us have entered a new (or another) sort of  Footprints in the Sand  situation.  For those who might not know  Footprints in the Sand , here are some opening lines from the poem: "One night a man had a dream.  He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.  Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.  For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand; one belonged to him, and the other to the LORD.  When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand... ." -- Mary Stevenson, 1939. A little side-bar:  I think it's interesting that The Wizard of Oz   would   come out in 1939, and WWII would also begin the same year as Foot Prints in the Sand was written. Continuing. It has been said that Mary Stevenson was still a girl when she wrote her  Footprints poem.   Maybe she saw the movie, maybe it scared her, maybe she...

Almost too much is happening in the world right now for human beings to process. That said, when I watch what's happening in America today, I see (in the news) the results unfolding of almost half a voting country "groomed" by Donald Trump:  I see coercion and force being used to threaten Canada, other countries, and the U.S. itself.  How can anyone now doubt the women and men who accused Donald Trump of sexual, financial, and other abuses?  How can I doubt my temptation to judge half of American voters?  Breathe. I'm trying to pray tonight but it feels like just so many words-- too many knots and loose ends, if that makes sense???  Come Holy Spirit-- pray in me-- past, present, future, pray in the world. Next. I'm flipping through Thomas Merton's  New Seeds of Contemplation--  I open to a page with an old note written in the margin that says, " turn this paragraph into a prayer."   So I do. [Sticking pretty close to Merton's words] I pray: L...

Politics 2025:  "For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's word's await another voice" --T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding, Four Quartets .  Makes me think of Ecclesiastes,  "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."  ( 3:1: NRSV Catholic Mission Edition). That said, I am writing this blog as United States is on the doorstep of Trump inauguration, and Canada is in the midst of a race to replace Justin Trudeau as Prime Minister of Canada-- anxious times. Next.  I am remembering back to the Covid-19 pandemic and lockdowns.  I'm so thankful Justin Trudeau was prime minister during that time; and Chrystia Freeland too, as our finance minister.  I'm observing now, how generosity is a political risk (even a spiritual path). Deep breath. This afternoon Mark Carney is scheduled to announce he is entering the race to be the new leader of the National Liberal Party and prime minister of Canada. I...

A little story for my first post of 2025. First a quote from St. Elisabeth of the Trinity -- I came across it doing my Lectio this morning after writing the story below: "There is a Being who is Love who wishes us to live in communion with Him. Oh Mama, it is delightful, for He is there keeping me company, helping me to suffer, urging me to go beyond my suffering to rest in Him; do as I do, you will see how that transforms everything." (Source: Essence of Prayer, by Carmelite Ruth Burrows). Here's the little story: I'm having an encounter with a burly workman dressed in full orange construction or hydro gear.  The encounter takes place at Little Caesar's Pizza near where I live.  I'm commenting on a new item on the menu wall-- "Detroit Deep Dish Pizza."  I engage the workman in conversation saying, "I lived in Windsor growing up and don't remember Detroit having deep dish pizza?  I do remember both cities had amazing pizza though, best I...