Journal of Sacred Work

Days 277-278 Sometimes

“That afternoon the whole world seemed to devote itself to being perfect and radiantly beautiful and kind to one boy.” Frances Hodgson Burnett

Note: shared by Liz Sorensen Wessel

At P.S. 68 elementary in the Bronx, New York the bookmobile came to our school on Wednesday afternoons. Oh the delight in getting to peruse the selection of books, as I searched for just the right one and then my eyes lit upon, “The Secret Garden.” Intrigued by a hint of mystery I chose it or rather it chose me. I entered into another world from the moment I touched her first page and therein lies the magic of stories.

The concept of “Metanoia” that signifies a change of heart emerged as a powerful theme. This story reveals the pain of broken heartedness, of friendship, redemption, the healing power of Love and transformation. Once read, it became a favorite childhood companion of mine.

I wish to share with you the excerpt below from Frances Hodgson Burnett's 1909 enchanting tale, The Secret Garden.

“One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever.

 One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands out and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years.

One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries.

Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with the millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in someone's eyes.” 

Above photo image by ~liz

Days 272-276 - Where the Temple Begins

   On my way to retrieve the morning paper I discovered different news. It is suggested, but not portrayed, in the accompanying video shot by one quicker with his camera then was I.

   The news I heard was shouted by a solo reporter speaking with practiced authority. But I saw nothing. He spoke again, reporting the imminent arrival of a great show.

   Beauty & grace are a fine duet. Their appearance is especially pleasing when they dance on stage unexpected. 

   The reporter & his entire troop suddenly appeared not twenty feet above me. Ten geese, five on each side, displaying that thrilling V we view with awe.

 

   Leaders love to cite the geese formation as a metaphor for teamwork. What struck me this morning was that only one goose, the temporary guide, was honking.

   There are hundreds of lessons that can be gleaned from the gorgeous phenomenon of geese in flight. Yet, the most important one appears in three lines from Mary Oliver's poem, "Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?"

   "There are things you can't reach. But/you can reach out to them, and all day long./The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God."

   Temples begin & end everywhere - especially in the sky. 

-Erie Chapman

Video by 2TiedUp 

Days 270-271 Prayers For Peace

Shared by Liz Wessel

“The International Day of Peace is a day on which we try to imagine a world quite different from the one we know.

We try to picture those who wage war laying down their arms and talking out their differences. We try to picture all governments listening to -- and acting on -- the will of the people.

We try to picture hatred turning into respect, bigotry turning into understanding, and ignorance turning into knowledge. And we try to picture the very root causes of conflict -- poverty, marginalization and greed -- giving way to development and justice.

We do this because progress in our world does not happen without someone first having a vision or a dream.”

                                  -Former United Nations Secretary General Kofi Annan, September 10, 2001

 

As we reflect on this, the International Day of Peace, let us consider the following questions:

How do I contribute to a less peaceful world through word, action, or inaction? How do I contribute to a more peaceful world?

How do I support those who work for peace?

How shall I recall in thought and prayer those afflicted by the poverty and lack of hope which cause so much of our world’s violence?

 

A Prayer

Good and gracious God, we ask you to make us, like St. Francis, instruments of peace.

For those who govern nations and people,

We ask you grant them wisdom;

For those who are faithful to the struggle of justice,

We ask you grant them fortitude;

For those willing to explore the roots causes of conflict,

We ask you grant them understanding; 

For the trust You place in us all to bring about Your peace,

We express our gratitude.

Today and always, let me be attentive to the many ways I am able to sow peace in the world. Amen.

                                                              The Catholic Health Association of the United States 

 

Photo: handwoven and embroidered blouse from my visit to Guatamala

Days 265-269 The Power of Play

   It is just an old Army saddle straddling a wooden barrel. Yet, it became the prop for the great imaginings of 7 year old me, my 8 year old friend Jill Rutkin & my younger sister Martha (in the Halloween witch hat.)

   "Children take their play seriously," a wise friend told me long ago. It is in our play where we act out the stories that shape our childhood dreams.

   What happens to "play" (& dreams) when caregivers enter their work? It may seem irreverent to use a word as frivolous sounding as "play" about the treatment of the sick & wounded.

   I know of no better answer to this seeming paradox then the eloquence of Robert Frost from his immortal poem, "Two Tramps in Mudtime."   

Only where love and need are one,
And the work is play for mortal stakes
Is the deed ever truly done
For Heaven and the future's sakes.

  Perhaps, it is when we unite work & play that we do our best caregiving - for each other as well as for the patient before us.

-Erie Chapman, III

Snapshot by Erie Chapman, Jr. 

Days 263-264 "The Fire in Your Heart"

Note: Reflection shared by Liz Sorensen Wessel

By Breath

By breath, by blood, by body, by spirit, we are all one

The air that is my breath is the air that you are breathing
And the air that is your breath is the air that I am breathing
The wind rising in my breast is the wind from the east, from the west
From the north, from the south, breathing in, breathing out

The water that is my blood, my sweat, tears from crying
Is the water that is your blood, your sweat, tears from crying
And the rising of the tide is in our veins and in the ocean wide
We are in the rising steam, rushing river, running stream

The earth is dust, the earth is clay, flow’rs blossoming and fading
We are dust and we are clay, we are blossoming and fading
Every color, every sound, every place is holy ground
Oh, every living thing, can you hear it laugh? Can you hear it sing?

The fire in my heart, my soul flame burning
Is the fire in your heart, your soul flame burning
We are Spirit burning bright, by the light of day, in the dark of night
We are shining like the sun, and like the moon, like the Holy One

By breath, by blood, by body, by spirit, we are all one

© 2003 Sara Thomsen

I have heard it said that we think we have many problems but we really have only one... our belief that we are separate from one another, from God; from Love... Adapted from ACIM

In recent weeks, Erie Chapman has gifted us with words & images that connect us all to the passion & light of our souls & Sara Thomsen's song, "By Breath" affirms that we are  One.  

Artwork by ~liz 

Days 258-262 - Delight & Mystery

[Note: Most of this column was originally published in the Journal November 22, 2010]

Thou who hast given so much to me, give one thing more - a grateful heart. - Rev. Don Schlosser

Delight. Just hearing the word brings a lovely kind of energy, doesn't it? Imagine living in the arms of delight each day.

Combine delight with mystery. That is what I was seeking in the moonlight photograph.

Fall into the delight of mystery through the magic of "a grateful heart." Gratitude. Why do I forget this message - except maybe at Thanksgiving.

For example, a friend asked me recently if I felt loved by nature. Never having considered this, I couldn't answer.

If I were truly grateful for nature I would feel her embrace, wouldn't I? Why wasn't I in touch with that?

The question led me down the forest path to delight to a gift that was always there, just never unwrapped. Perhaps, you can feel that mystery & delight in the second photograph taken in a park near my downtown office. The path leads us out of (or into) a wet darkness toward a mysterious person in the distance.
Love never turns us away. The only question is whether we will accept her quiet invitation. 

Whatever worries circle your heart gratitude & delight can keep them at bay. 

Outside the halls of hospitals, hospices and nursing homes, nature exhales the aroma of life. Beyond the cafeteria, woods, waterfalls, gardens, the sea. all offer Love's boundless energy.

Do you feel loved by nature? Do you feel delight right now, not because you are supposed to, but because the word offers you its own special energy?

Love holds us as close as we allow. She is the mystery of delight ready to wrap us in her veil of joy.

-Reverend Erie Chapman

Photographs: "Delight & Mystery" & "Narrow Path" by Erie

Days 256-257 In Its Gentle Light

There is a light in you which cannot die;

whose presence is so holy that the world is sanctified

because of you.

All things that live bring gifts to you,

and offer them in gratitude and gladness at your feet.

The scent of flowers is their gift to you.

The waves bow down before you,

and the trees extend their arms to shield you from the heat,

and lay their leaves before you on the ground

 that you may walk in softness,

while the wind sinks to a whisper round your holy head.

The light in you is what the universe longs to behold.

All living things are still before you,

for they recognize Who walks with you.

The light you carry is their own.

And thus they see in you their holiness,

saluting you as savior and as God.

Accept their reverence,

for it is due to Holiness Itself, which walks with you,

transforming in Its gentle light all things unto Its likeness.

 

Excerpt from Lesson 156, A Course in Miracles, which I felt was so beautiful & wished to share it with you...

 

Shared by Liz Sorensen Wessel

Mandala pencil drawing by ~liz

Days 251-255 - Passions

   The question, here, is not what do you like, but what do you love to do?

   One way to tell  is to look at my cousin Terry's love of fly fishing. He does not just like to catch fish. He loves the whole experience - searching for the best spot, selecting the right fly, pulling on his boots, standing in the waist deep water & more. This kind of passion enables him to put up with the irritations of snagged lines & days when no fish take the bait. In the freezing Massachusetts winters a favorite pastime of his is to tie flies, add a poem, mount & frame the combination & give it as a gift. 

   "Woman & Waterfall" is not just a snapshot to me. It is the shadows, the texture of hat & hair, the sound of the waterfall. Photography means "light writing." This is a moment when light was written.

   My passion for photography (& motion pictures) runs back to childhood. But when, at six, I gazed in fascination at pictures taken with my Brownie camera I did not think photography could be an art form.

   Now, that concept is well accepted by museums & schools of art & I have been honored to have pictures exhibited in both. Even though my career pulled me into courtrooms & hospitals, my passion has always been present. My camera was with me constantly - in my car & office & around my neck as I photographed prisoners in jail & patients in hospital rooms.

   In 2010 photography, film making, poetry & music composition became my full time work. But the poetry I write & music I compose are usually in support of pictures. I spend each weekday in my gallery. 

   Beyond the work you do (that I hope you also love) what is your passion? I have often been surprised when adults cannot name anything.

   Pick something & dive deep. Your life's diamonds cannot be found on the surface.

-Erie Chapman

Photograph: "Woman & Waterfall" by Erie

Days 249-250 Welcoming the Wounded One

Note: Reflection offered by Liz Sorensen Wessel.  Father Richard Rohr describes the first half of life as a time for building our identity, following career pursuits, gaining confidence in our skillfulness, accomplishing and striving for success, which are developmental steps for establishing ourselves in the world. 

Then one day we may awaken and wonder about the years flying by and how we've molded ourselves to the expectations of others and our culture to fit in and belong.

Along the way how far have we wandered away from our true nature?

Rohr states, “In our formative years, we are so self-preoccupied that we are both overly defensive and overly offensive at the same time, with little time left for simply living, pure friendship, useless beauty, or moments of communion with nature or anything. Yet that kind of ego structuring is exactly what a young person partly needs.”

Whereas the second half of life is a time of rediscovery, of dismantling the persona that we so carefully crafted through the years to become vulnerable and open hearted again as we let go our shield of armor.

“In the second half of life, all that you avoided for the sake of a manufactured ego ideal starts coming back as a true friend and teacher. Doers become thinkers, feelers become doers, thinkers become feelers, extroverts become introverts, visionaries become practical, and the practical ones long for vision. We all go toward the very places we avoided for the last forty years, and our friends are amazed. Now we begin to understand why Jesus is always welcoming the outsider, the foreigner, the sinner, the wounded one. He was a second-half-of-life man who has had the unenviable task of trying to teach and be understood by a largely first-half-of-life history, church, and culture.” Richard Rohr

And in the end, when all else falls away, all that we are is LOVE.

Liz Sorensen Wessel

Mandala by ~liz