A Time to Love

The Angel said to them, "Don't be afraid! I am here with good news for you, which will bring great joy to all the people."

Luke 2:10

It's Christmas. Today, in spite of the frenzy and excitement of preparation, I am taking a moment to listen inside to the warm pressure inside my chest. This is what Love is trying to say to me:

That in spite of our losses, Love is real. Love is here and is to be relied upon.
Even though we may grieve, Love comforts.
Even though we feel weak, Love strengthens.
Even though life may have been harsh to us this year, Love's gentleness penetrates.
Even though we can lose hope, Love cannot be lost.
Even though we might not feel joyful, Love embraces our desire for it.
Even though we may be lonely, Love alone can meet this.
Even though others may ask too much of us, Love makes up our deficit.
Even though we're scared of another year finishing, Love is timeless.
Even though we know not what lies ahead for us, Love does.
Even with all this, something is being born in us. Love wants to love, through us.
Even when offered yet rejected, even when we recoil, we must let ourselves Love.
It is time for Love to be heard.

It is the season of Love, of being swept up by it, being fortified and strengthened by it, to allow ourselves to feel the wonder and purity of it, to see cynicism and hatred fade because of it.

There is a time for everything - now, it's time to Love. It's time to light the candles. It is time to stretch and extend Love's warmth in us and offer it to others. It is time to laugh, to rest, to play, to touch the good earth, to let Love conquer us, to be known by Love, to be comforted by Love's embrace. It is time to sing, even if our voices are quiet. Sing, sing out loud. It is time to be swept up by others, by music, to hug, to forgive, to receive, to let ourselves be loved.

Look around. Look deeper than the strain on someone's face. Look deeper than the smile on others. Look deeper than the spending, the decorations, the wrapping of presents. Look deeper than your own life. What's happening out there? There are crises and surprises. There are unseen kindnesses, heartaches and wishes, hidden dreams and prayers. There is tummy-bursting excitement. Love sees them all.

We pray for all who are suffering in any way at this time. May Love bring comfort, direction and strength. May Love be re-born in us all. Breathe in deeply. Love and Wonder are in the air!

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

 ... a time to love ...

Ecc 3:1. 8.

Contemplative Prayer

An extract of this essay was recently published in To Live From The Heart, Sr. Stan's latest book.

St. Mary's Cistercian Abbey, Glencairn

The Contemplative tradition echoes back through many centuries of spiritual wisdom from the early Christian saints such as the Desert Fathers and Mothers, St Bernard, St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich and Meister Eckhart. It has been brought to us more recently by the writings of Thomas Merton, Henri Nouwen, Fr. Thomas Keating, Fr. Richard Rohr, James Finley, Fr. Daniel O'Leary, Fr. James Martin, and the rich heritage of modern writers and living "saints".

According to Thomas Merton, Contemplation is “awakening, enlightenment and the amazing intuitive grasp by which love gains certitude of God's creative and dynamic intervention in our daily life.” While we associate the contemplative life more typically with cloistered monks and nuns, more and more lay people are seeking balance through a gentler, contemplative context for their ordinary lives, whether they are parents, children, teachers, students, bread-makers or quantum physics professors. Such people are seeking their truest life in the busy-ness of this modern world. Prayer itself, by creating an anchor in the Heart transforms our interior landscape to create a true and meaningful life, as exemplified by the contemplative sisters at St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey in Glencairn.

Monastic life at St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey moves each day with the rhythm of the Divine Office, where the community gathers for prayer in the Abbey Church 7 times daily, in addition to the morning celebration of Mass. The Divine Office begins with Vigils at 4.10am, and the day completes with the community’s evening gathering at Compline at around 7.55pm, closing the day once again in prayer. The Office itself consists of the prayerful singing of Psalms and hymns as well as readings from the Bible, and moments of Silence. The Office of Vigils is followed by a period of silent prayer, reading and Lectio Divina, the sacred reading of the Bible. Two periods of work take place daily except on Sundays, to allow the Abbey to run in a self-sufficient manner, including their Eucharistic Bread and Greeting Card businesses. In addition, the myriad domestic and farm maintenance activities take place each day in a spirit of devotion to God and in a context of prayer and surrender to the divine.

Throughout this rhythm, apart from the praying of the Divine Office and mass, the movement from rising in the early hours of the morning to the setting of the day after the final Office of Compline, the community remains largely silent, bringing their attention, time and time again, interiorly to God. This devotion to interiority, contemplation and prayer leads the Sisters to a deeper experience of Presence, and to being internally “united to all”, as highlighted by the Desert Father, Evagrius of Pontus. The early Office of Vigils takes place at a time when people often wake from sleep with troubles and worries. We can only too easily forget that these concerns are held daily in prayer by the Sisters and in the prayer lives of all Monastic traditions.

In speaking with one of the Sisters at St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey, it was her initial unexpected encounter with God’s Presence and Love at the age of 18 that so ingrained in her being a lifelong recognition of Presence and a unquenchable desire to remain there continually:

“I had a wonderful sense of His Presence. He showed Himself in His incredible beauty and love and I understood without a shadow of doubt that He was Love and that I was loved unconditionally and lifted up into that self-same love.”

Sr. Michele, St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey, Glencairn

This initial encounter confirmed a deep knowing that the meaning of her life was to devote herself to this Love, and soon thereafter she joined a religious missionary congregation. While her younger years as a nun saw her serving as a missionary nurse overseas, she eventually followed the deeper call within her to a life of contemplation, and joined the contemplative monastic life at St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey, Glencairn some 28 years ago.

Fr. Thomas Keating, the Cistercian monk who rekindled meditation and brought us Centering Prayer said, “the Spirit prays in us and we consent.” It is not just through the formal prayers, or the praying of the Divine Office, or even Lectio Divina that prayer happens - prayer is a way of being, it is an offering of yourself to be prayed. It was the French Cistercian Abbot, André Louf, who said that the objective of the monastic life was to awaken the heart and “make it aware of that prayer which is always going on within it. Prayer is there. It abides there.” Prayerfulness is the landscape that is continuously present in the background behind us all, monastics and lay people alike. The Heart is prayed into Being.

There is a place in every man where God touches him and where he himself is constantly in contact with God. This is simply because at every instant God holds us in being. The place where this creative contact with God takes place is deep within me. If I can reach it I can touch God.

André Louf

Following the Rule of St. Benedict, which is adopted for monastic life in most monasteries and abbeys, the working day in this School of Love flows out of its prayer life, forming a continuous flow from more meditative prayer into the active daily chores. The vast majority of work time is spent in silence, when the sisters continue to rest in Presence during their activities, and to Pray Continually (1 Thess 5:17). All the ordinary events and encounters of the day become devoted to this relationship with God, with Love. It is also a discipline of seeing every moment as a gift from God, surrendering one’s own self into the greater Self of God.

“The call and grace of monastic life is to move from the superficial self to the deeper self and to live from the heart. The call is to listen to the voice of the Lord, moment by moment, and to make choices that are motivated by a surrender to God and his will.” 

Sr. Marie, Abbess, St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey, Glencairn

Contemplative Prayer is also a disposition of heart, by yielding, receiving and responding to God. At times there is a felt awareness of the Presence of divine energy, and at others it is simply a patient knowing that God is present. Contemplation strengthens this awareness, and the certainty that God is everywhere, is in everyone and in everything. God is in every human activity. Presence envelops our atmosphere, our surroundings, our personalities, our work, our life experiences. Our response is borne out by following our heart-felt desires, planted there by God. By being and becoming fully ourselves, we respond.

The singing of the Psalms at the Divine Office, as well as the periods of quiet prayer and Lectio Divina, holds the sisters in touch with God and the concerns of others. Many people contact the Abbey and report answers and resolutions to their prayers, often in unexpected yet welcome ways. Through Prayer, the sisters hold the certainty that even in the midst of our experiences of difficulty, suffering, confusion and even joys and breakthroughs, we can rest assured that we are contained in the Love of God.

Inspired by the lives of the many saints and Cistercian brotherhood throughout the centuries, one sister felt her calling was deeply influenced by the example and influence of St. Joseph, in particular his qualities of unassuming protection, strength and hidden Presence. Having spent 32 years as a missionary nun, she then chose to follow the deeper yearning within for the Cistercian life.

“The Cistercian Way in its simplicity of lifestyle, in humble manual labour and highly organised life, opens my heart to discover and receive the ever loving Presence of God in the ordinary; in the obscure minute moments.”

Sr. Denise, St. Mary’s Cistercian Abbey, Glencairn

In day to day life in Glencairn, Prayer is lived out in the relationships within the Abbey community and with the wider community outside the Abbey. Harmony in the Sisters’ prayer life extends outwards to create and nourish harmonious relationships, which then feed and nourish the prayer life further into deeper contemplation. Community living fosters the development of deep compassion, forgiveness, tolerance and understanding for their own perceived weaknesses and failings, and those of others. This is humility. St. Bernard described the journey of the steps of humility as arriving at a “no-self”, which for him, was union with God in Love. His continuous advice to “return to your own heart” was to bring people home to the Heart where God dwells. A natural selflessness arises out of this place of humility, and the generosity to perform little hidden acts of kindness and help for others. Prayer transforms the heart into ever-increasing contentment, and humble generosity arises.

As a lay person I have felt very drawn to the Contemplative Way, especially by this sense of an interior prayer which is constantly going on within me, even before I do anything - I am being prayed into Being. In our busy modern lives of constant external stimulation and demands, more and more people are feeling anxious, powerless, uncertain and disillusioned with their lives. Mahatma Gandhi said that prayer is not asking, but is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. "It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart."

I have always felt that the deepest aches and joys of the heart are always heard, especially those that defy words. They are utterances longing for rest. Sometimes just being heard is enough. At others, the allowing of the interior ache to exist brings untold relief. At still other times, we have to practice a kind of patient Unknowing until some sense of resolution eventually comes.

Over time, through surrender and trust, I have gained more patience and tolerance for this vulnerability and this Unknowing, and a wonder at the harmony with which each new situation becomes resolved, too often in spite of me. Such contemplative experiences have confirmed to the degree of unshakeable certainty that Life, that Love, that God is present in them.

One of the strange laws of the contemplative life is that in it you do not sit down and solve problems: you bear with them until they somehow solve themselves. Or until life itself solves them for you.

Thomas Merton.

With heartfelt thanks to Sr. Marie, Sr. Michele and Sr. Denise, contributors and inspirations to this essay, and the entire community of St. Mary's Cistercian Abbey, Glencairn.

The Way We Get

I Know The Way You Can Get

I know the way you can get

When you have not had a drink of Love:

Your face hardens, 

Your sweet muscles cramp.

Children become concerned

About a strange look that appears in your eyes

Which even begins to worry your own mirror

And nose.

Squirrels and birds sense your sadness

And call an important conference in a tall tree.

They decide which secret code to chant

To help your mind and soul.

Even angels fear that brand of madness

That arrays itself against the world

And throws sharp stones and spears into

The innocent

And into one's self.

O I know the way you can get

If you have not been out drinking Love:

You might rip apart

Every sentence your friends and teachers say,

Looking for hidden clauses.

You might weigh every word on a scale 

Like a dead fish.

You might pull out a ruler to measure

From every angle in your darkness

The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once

Trusted.

I know the way you can get

If you have not had a drink from Love's

Hands.

That is why all the Great Ones speak of 

The vital need

To keep Remembering God,

So you will come to know and see Him

As being so Playful

And Wanting,

Just Wanting to help.

Hafiz, I Heard God Laughing

When our own words fail us at times of grief and change, we look for help. We are not in new uncharted territory for humanity, but maybe for ourselves. We are not alone, but have to travel unaccompanied to many places. We are grateful for the mystics and Great Ones who have charted the journey before us.

Infinite Moment

God is the infinity of the concrete immediacy of every moment.

Dr. James Finley

How many times do we catch ourselves being surprised by beauty, by the quality of light, by the sense of reflection from a bird or animal accompanying us on a walk, by a breakthrough at work, by the unexpected kindness of a shop assistant, by a sudden forward flow in our day after an equally sudden series of delays and challenges, by a momentary sense of contentment welling up from within?

My current ponderings are all related to reconciliation - reconciliation with my own self. How do I reconcile my moments of peace, contentment, reverence and trust, with passing moments of anxiety, insecurity, frustration, rejection and all the other more difficult places that can momentarily dominate our lives? How do I anchor myself deeper than the polarity of both these moments?

It seems the deeper God and Life brings us, the deeper we go! It is as though the powerful current of Love is continually cleaning its path, exposing and removing ever more debris blocking its free flow within us. Would we have it any other way? Contemplation reveals that this unblocking is sourced in benevolence, and knowing that, we recognise and trust its movement and force within us. Even though we can initially resist, we eventually consent, knowing some divine balance is taking place. It also gives us great compassion and understanding for our fragile places. It gives us the courage to go through life’s challenges, upheavals and misunderstandings.

It is also good to know that God is not selective, but is bursting open frozen and hidden judgements and convictions within us all, freeing up any and all holding, and insisting on Love being allowed to flow. Phew! If left to our own devices, I’m pretty sure we would continually tighten in our certainties of how life and others “should” be, and shrink ever more into a flawed and limited sense of ourselves, others and life.

This flow is not our doing, it seems, so it can't be rushed. It is in the immediacy of our lives where reality lives, where Presence lives, where God is. God/Presence IS the playing out of our lives, the activity, the surroundings and the details of our lives, and most especially, the working out of all upheaval, and even the relief, resolution and reconciliation we seek.

Harmony has its own timetable and will seek the best and truthful outcome for all concerned. Processing rarely comes with the analysing mind. It usually happens upon us, as a result of sincere questioning and inner compassion, but more importantly, because of the natural law of things finding their own balance in time.

In the meantime, we can do our best to ease these times of intensity through any contemplative practice such as Meditation, Centering Prayer or Mindfulness. This helps us to practise staying with it, bravely staying here in the now, by honestly baring our souls to ourselves and to God. Be here as we struggle with old hurts. Be here as we drink that morning cup of coffee. Be tuned in to our hands as we wash the dishes. Be here as we take a walk, as we perform an activity at work, as we sit with a friend, as we watch a child play, or as we listen to the worries of an aged relative. Contemplative practice tells us to return again and again to our immediate activity and surroundings. Become anchored in the body. What is immediately happening now? What are my surroundings? What is Love revealing in this moment. Are we brave enough to know with certainty that this too is going to work itself out?

It is in this moment that we access Presence, Peace, Harmony, and the best version of ourselves, God within. It is in this moment that we can be accessed by God, by Presence, by the movement of Love. It is only in this immediate moment that we can gain strength and relief from our troubles, receive help from our insights and intuition, or indeed help from others. It is in this moment that we can make our best decisions. It is in this moment that we forgive. By unlocking our external focus, we open up to perceiving and experiencing Presence. It is the eternal reminder to our endless forgetting. It is essential to hold faith and care for ourselves, and God. It is essential to stay here, in this infinite moment.

Peace I leave you; my peace I give you. 

I do not give to you as the world gives. 

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. 

John 14:27

What Lies Beyond

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing 

and rightdoing, there is a field.

I'll meet you there.

Rumi

Beyond Acceptance and Rejection,

Beyond Closeness and Distance,

Beyond Welcome and Indifference,

Beyond Openness and Reticence,

Beyond being Included and Excluded,

Beyond others being With you and Against you,

Beyond Safety and Danger,

Beyond Confidence and Insecurity,

Beyond Friendliness and Shyness,

Beyond Engaging and Withdrawal,

Beyond Self-Assuredness and Self-Consciousness,
Beyond Praise and Criticism,

Beyond Forthrightness and Caution,

Beyond Determination and Reluctance,

Beyond being Believed and being Condemned,

Beyond Belonging and being an Outsider,

Beyond Conflict and Reconciliation,

Beyond Leading and Following
Beyond being Known and being Misunderstood,

Beyond Excellence and Errors,

Beyond Success and Failure,

Beyond Clarity and Lethargy,

Beyond Progression and Regression,
Beyond Remembering and Forgetting,
Beyond Wisdom and Ignorance,
Beyond Intuition and Intellectual certainty,
Beyond Faith and Cynicism
Beyond Heart and Mind,

Beyond It All ...

I AM

A tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying Him. It "consents" so to speak, to His creative love.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

Practice

I watch people in the world 

Throw away their lives lusting after things, 

Never able to satisfy their desires, 

Falling into deeper despair 

And torturing themselves. 

Even if they get what they want 

How long will they be able to enjoy it? 

For one heavenly pleasure 

They suffer ten torments of hell, 

Binding themselves more firmly to the grindstone. 

Such people are like monkeys 

Frantically grasping for the moon in the water 

And then falling into a whirlpool. 

How endlessly those caught up in the floating world suffer. 

Despite myself, I fret over them all night 

And cannot staunch my flow of tears. 

Ryokan

Like one of Ryokan's monkeys, I can catch myself engaged in confused frantic actions, with the mind fixed tightly in some automatic or repetitive thinking mode. It is rarely restful, sometimes creative and excited, but all too often it returns to an ingrained habit of anxiety and restlessness. It is also the strongest reminder that I am making restlessness my practice - Oops, there I go again, worrying about whether the oven is off.... Did I manage to send that email? ... I wish my colleague and I got on better.... Is that a flu coming on?

We can find a tremendous process for transformation using a Contemplative Practice. We find a practice which brings us home. We might even come to accept that it may never be possible to prevent these momentary states of mind from arising. We are human, after all. That's nature being natural. However, we also come to know that these are passing states of mind, alluding to passing triggers and circumstances, in a world which is forever changing. The moon is not in the water. Planting ourselves here will not make us happy, safe or content.

You must rise above

the gloomy clouds

covering the mountaintop

otherwise, how will you

ever see the brightness?

Ryokan

It is in the practice of relying on our deepest Knowing, of being comfortable with Unknowing, that we come home to ourselves. We come to know we were always home all along, we just didn't recognise the house or the neighbours' cat.

The only true joy on earth is to escape from the prison of our own false self, and enter by love into union with the Life Who dwells and sings within the essence of every creature and in the core of our own souls...

Thomas Merton

When our own words fail us, when our understanding falls short, we lean on those who can remind us of Silence, Beingness, Presence, of our true nature in the depths of each moment. The continuous sinking back into Silence needs to be our primary practice.

You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.

Rumi

Gardening Wisdom

Gardening is cheaper than therapy, and you get tomatoes.

Anonymous

Mindfulness is a practice which has become greatly accessible to people of all traditions and faiths. Often sought as a remedy for excess mind activity and turbulent emotions, many people don't quite know why they are drawn to it - they just know they feel more balanced, centred and happy by having this practice in their lives. Mindfulness teaches the fundamentals of meditation and of present-moment awareness.

This practice is of immense value as it teaches us self-awareness - we become aware of our habitual patterns of thought. We begin to see how much of our day is taken up with worries, stress and ruminating over situations past or future. It reminds us to bring our awareness back to our immediate current situation, our immediate activity, surroundings and bodily sensations. It trains us to create an internal anchor such as the breath or anchored awareness of our body in the immediate moment. This action of continually returning to present-moment awareness is meditation, it is mindfulness.

By locating our attention on our immediate surroundings, we are dropping an anchor into the deepest and calmest part of the ocean. It steadies our erratic movements, and gives us a chance to look around and get our bearings. Present-moment awareness is naturally calm and it slows and soothes both mind and emotions. Because of our deepening self-awareness, we come to know ourselves very well. Dedicated practice over time habituates us to fresh moment-by-moment awareness, and centres us in our true nature. Through longer and more focussed meditation practice, we learn to recognise ourselves, and learn to recognise Presence. 

Take a look at a gardener at work, or anyone who works physically with their hands. A rhythm comes upon them and a natural ease in their movements. They are not in a rush. Years have taught them that there will be more weeds tomorrow, so they just do what they can today. They witness their thoughts and bodies relaxing as they focus fully on the work. They always pause to look around the whole garden as a complete entity, to search for ideas and inspiration for the next season's planting, and to decide what needs pruning later in the autumn.

They always take time to stop at their favourite flower in bloom. They take time to smell the roses, to water the dry patches, to tend the seedlings, to thin out the carrots, to rub the cat that loves visiting her owner in this space. They see which plants are struggling and which ones are taking over, and they have no problem pruning and removing plants, and relegating them to the compost heap. They know the overall garden rhythm. It is all natural.

Some days, they will even go out and attack the garden with tools and clippers with a whole load of steam built up inside. After an hour, the higher balance of nature will have exhausted them, and unleashed their steam. They return to themselves. Even as the gardener is slowed by age and arthritis, they know every inch of this familiar landscape, and find a spot to sit where Presence is loud, and the heart becomes still.

Any practice that brings us home to ourselves is a gift to be cherished and an activity to pursue with priority for all our days. This is effortless mindfulness. We may go for another round of golf, another choir practice, a music gig, a leisurely walk or run in the park, T'ai Chi, or some Meditation or Centering Prayer - whatever brings us home. We all benefit when we are around people who know themselves deeply, know and practise their divine practice, and share Presence by their presence. 

We spend our lives hurrying away from the real, as though it were deadly to us. "It must be up there somewhere on the horizon," we think. And all the time it is in the soil, right beneath our feet.

William Bryant Logan, Dirt: The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth

Staying With It

Don't surrender your loneliness 

So quickly.

Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you

As few human

Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tonight

Has made my eyes so soft,

My voice

So tender,

My need of God

Absolutely

Clear.

Hafiz

Once you have committed to being lived, to being moved, to being surrendered, you must stay with it, you just must. I'm not sure there is a choice anyway. We all honestly know when we are in a mental spin and obsessing over trivia, and when a truly painful transformation is taking place within us. You can't unknow your Self and the promptings of Spirit. A greater emptying out is going on inside. Even more letting go is possible, infinitely possible. All holding and hiding spaces become illuminated. It is no longer possible to hold or to hide anything, or to operate with such sustained effort. Effortlessness and Surrender demand everything of you and from you. You know they're right! The absolute scent of Truth and Presence confirm this.

To soothe those throbbing painful places, is to stay with it. To resist figuring it all out, is staying with it. To allow yourself to admit this current awfulness is happening, that this turmoil is all-consuming, yet somehow necessary, is bravely staying with it. It is beyond bravery. It is an accepting of our failure, our unknowing, our inadequacy, our innocence, our humanity.


Where to from here? Keep staying with it. Then, stay with it some more:
Pick some easy steps from the list of Contemplative Practices.
Locate your breath. Find the physical throb in the body. Breathe.
Softly tap the chest and heart.
Go for a gentle walk.
Pray. A Heart Without Words is heard.
Talk to a spiritual adviser.
Get some flower essence remedies to soothe the emotions. I find the Australian Bush flower essences excellent.
Allow a moment of lightness - Envelop yourself in re-runs of The Waltons, and Little House on the Prairie (Feel free to substitute!). My own version of this includes a warm blanket and home-made Rice Pudding (don't overdo it!).
Be your own comforter - sometimes, absolutely no-one will understand.
Follow the reassurance of routine. Go about the daily duties and demands, as normal. Keep going.
Go Beyond the Shadows.
See The Highest Good.
Remember, This Too Shall Pass.


Stay With It. You will emerge - even less that you are now, even lighter, and ever more graced. Our need of God, is met.

I Am With You Always

Matthew 28:20

A Parent's Blessing

A Parent’s Blessing

When you were born

Our hearts were so full of happiness

That there was no room in us for words.

When you were growing

Our hearts were so full of care for you

That we spoke soothingly

And sometimes sharply,

Fearful for your safety,

But always

In the deepest places of our hearts

We spoke lovingly.

Today,

As we watch you

Moving forward with your friends

We marvel at all you have done

And become.

Our spirits sing praise to God

For the gift that is you.

And, though our hearts

Have stretched to love others,

Yet, there is a place within us

That is yours, and only yours

Always.

For the light you have shone on us,

For the life you have called us to,

For the special gift of God

You are now, and will ever be,

Thank you. 

Christy Kenneally

Communion Blessing

For all who were once someone's child, for all parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, extended family members, friends and strangers, may we receive the gift and blessing of these words from Presence.

Image Courtesy of Baby Images 

Pure Heart, Enlightened Mind

A friend of mine recently handed me a copy of this book which I had come across many years ago, but had never quite got around to reading. It tells the story of Maura (Soshin-san) O'Halloran, an Irish-American Catholic woman who was one of the very few women ever to be allowed to train at a male-dominated traditional Zen monastery in Japan. She was ordained a Zen Buddhist monk in 1982.


She was born in Boston in 1955, the daughter of an Irish father and American mother. They moved to Ireland when she was four. She spent most of her youth in Ireland, though the entire family along with her five younger siblings also spent time in Boston, and especially in Maine where her maternal grandmother lived. Her father died suddenly in a road accident when she was 14. She was very socially aware, and became active for social justice while attending Trinity College in Dublin, and during her early working life. She was a courageous and adventurous traveller, at times braving solo travel through Central and South America.


At some point during this time, she became drawn to the conviction that the social changes she longed for in her environment could possibly be more effectively brought about by changing oneself, rather than seeking to change others or institutions. Inspired by a family friend, she decided to visit Japan, to deepen her own meditation practice and to study Zen. She was very aware that control over her thoughts and mental processes was key to her sense of well-being and happiness. The book, told through her own journal accounts of her three years in Japan, give great insight into daily monastic life at two Japanese Buddhist monasteries under a master Zen tutor (Roshi). We learn about her life there, about Zen, about the sacred moments, the squabbles and the cultural diversities. Her journals also reveal her loving and open relationships with her family and many friends.

Of late I feel ridiculously happy. No reason. Just bursting with joy... Now I'm 26, and I feel as if I've lived my life... Any desires, ambitions, hopes I may have had have either been fulfilled or spontaneously dissipated. I'm totally content.

This is one of those books where you find shelter. It is at times heartbreakingly moving and inspiring in its description of human effort, surrender of self, and realisation of the divine inner nature, or enlightened Buddha-nature to use Zen terminology. For me it was a pilgrimage, read during a recent short hospital stay. This time saw her transformed by her dedicated heart, heavy work load and prolonged meditation training into a Zen monk and master in her own right. She is now recognised in Japan, and by all those who have been touched by her story, as a Zen saint. In 1982, at the age of 27, Maura died suddenly in a bus accident, while travelling in Thailand on her return journey home.

Maura was engaged with the honorary role of monastery chef, but her daily workload often consisted of long arduous hours of cleaning, cooking, gardening and sewing. She had help at times from other monks, but remained primarily self-motivated to seeing work as a continuation of her Zen practice. Over time, she solved the various koans (Zen riddles), worked tirelessly to prepare for extended Zen retreats, engaged in the Zen practice of begging/blessing (Takuhatsu), often in freezing temperatures and snow while wearing only straw sandals, and long periods of sitting meditation including overnight meditation while getting one hour's sleep sitting upright. Her Zen practice became a minute by minute dedication to the task at hand with full focus, attention and presence. This was her primary training, life itself. Through this, she achieved great spiritual breakthroughs, and came into a deep sense of peace, surrender and self-abandonment, while growing in inner contentment, acceptance and joy.

Everything seems wonderful. Even undesirable, painful conditions have a poignant beauty and exaltation. So in a sense I feel I have died; for myself there is nothing else to strive after, nothing more to make my life worthwhile or to justify it. 

As she immersed herself more and more in her work and Zen practice, her own needs and desires further dissolved, and she became dedicated to helping others. The journey of her discipline and mindfulness practice is altogether uplifting and inspiring, and clearly puts our daily grumbles into perspective. Maura's journals take you on your own retreat with her. You appreciate her struggles to overcome her own conditioning, as well as her moments of hardship and discouragement. Mostly, you sense her vibrant energy, her great sense of humour, her excellent discernment, and purity of heart. I couldn't help but have a sense of companionship as I read on, that a compassionate listener was present.

Having always had a generous nature, she planned to open a Zen training centre in Dublin on her return.

I have maybe 50 or 60 years (who knows?) of time, of a life, open, blank, ready to offer. I want to live it for other people. What else is there to do with it? Not that I expect to change the world or even a blade of grass, but it's as if to give myself is all I can do, as the flowers have no choice but to blossom. At the moment the best I can see to do is to give to people this freedom, this bliss, and how better than through zazen? ( Zen practice of sitting meditation ) So I must go deeper and deeper and work hard, no longer for me but for everyone I can help.

There are poignant parallels with Thomas Merton's desire to help others and to be of service in the world, as well as his tragic death in Thailand. Some also compare her short life and deep realisations to that of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Each have blessed us though their journals with the gift of seeing and understanding their inner journeys of liberation and transformation from the conditioned self to the realisation of the divine nature within.

Silence and Presence exist everywhere and in every tradition. However we feel pulled by Silence, it seems fulfilment and enlightenment lie in our ability to find rest there, and to let our actions move from there.

The Divine Image

Stained Glass at Mount Melleray Cistercian Abbey, Cappoquin

The Divine Image

To Mercy Pity Peace and Love

All pray in their distress:

And to these virtues of delight

Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

Is God our father dear:

And Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

Is Man his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart

Pity, a human face:

And Love, the human form divine,

And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man of every clime,

That prays in his distress,

Prays to the human form divine

Love Mercy Pity Peace.

And all must love the human form,

In heathen, turk or jew.

Where Mercy, Love & Pity dwell,

There God is dwelling too.

William Blake, Songs of Innocence and of Experience, c.1789.

When disappointed by others, when saddened and frustrated by our own efforts, when it's just tough going - it is a relief to be reminded of the purity and goodness inside all beings, even ourselves. Behind it all, there is Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace. There is Rest. There is Presence.

I can see why Thomas Merton loved the poetry of William Blake.

The Grace of Surrender

I remember first being introduced to meditation in my 20s, and for some reason, in spite of an often restless mind, I also had a strong sense that I was somehow coming home. As I persevered with my initial clumsiness, I found myself looking forward to the ceremony of sitting, allowing my restlessness to soften, and wait. What I couldn’t name at the time was the experience of Presence which then enfolded me, and drew me back in expectation for the next sitting. I also didn’t recognise at that time the seeds of self-kindness which were being sown.


Twenty years later, I look back at my younger self, and have to admire the humble innocence of a young adult finding her own way in life. I look back amazed at the disciplined practice I enjoyed then. I can still be a little restless. I suppose I am also older and hopefully a little wiser. Surrender comes easier now. Life has brought many joys and storms in the intervening years, each one cracking open the heart ever wider. Life has shown I am not in control of the vast majority of events unfolding in my life. Life has also shown that a force of gentleness and providence was with me throughout these years. The lives of my family were held and a pull towards truth, simplicity and trust was moving through us.


I realised some years ago that it was no longer possible to limit my daily practice to one or two periods of meditation, or regretfully none at all on occasion. I needed more help in the in-between times. I found I needed to reconcile the remainder of my day with the peace and serenity I felt during meditation. Slowly I noticed a inner pull towards a more contemplative way of living, the turning and surrender of each moment into prayer and devotion. This practice became a welcome anchor at difficult moments, and a celebration at times of breakthrough.

I still struggle with the discipline needed to sit in meditation and Centering Prayer. I welcome but no longer cling to the consolations which can come. I don’t always feel the strength of Presence which I felt in my younger years. I now seek to simply rest in Silence, rather than seeking a felt experience of Presence.

Though it may go against our nature, the act of surrendering is Nature itself. One moment and one season surrender into the next. The cycles of life surrender into each other. Birds and animals know this instinctively. They are led by inner rhythms dictated by Nature. We also see this graceful process unfolding in many people. They grow in wisdom and acceptance as they get older, and are often recognised by their strong sense of humour about Life's ups and downs. Surrender has made them humble and adaptable. They have witnessed many people making their final surrender from this life. They know that Life is to be lived, enjoyed and revered, moment by moment.

To welcome and to let go is one of the most radically loving, faith-filled gestures we can make in each moment of each day. It is an open-hearted embrace of all that is in ourselves and in the world.

Mary Mrozowski, Contemplative Outreach Founder

Pause For A Moment

A quiet day's pause 

Time slows to an easy pace

Nature is basking

Hurry finds no hit today

Contentedness arises

How lovely to find a long quiet day stretching out ahead, with no appointments, no deadlines, and nothing at all to be achieved. It is with a grateful heart that I find one, today.

Everyone needs a moment to immerse themselves in their own natural way. It is my constant prayer that my outside world becomes a more natural rhythm for me. In other words, it is my prayer that those internal disharmonies soften even more so that the external world then reflects this ease and harmony. Much energy is pulled from within when we find ourselves in an unnatural rhythm. It is not possible to sustain it for very long, without feeling exhausted and strained. The prayer is that we can adapt and move seamlessly from one role to the next, whatever the context, all the while following an internal natural dial. I don't think we were even meant to be anything other than this.

Our natural rhythm may be a quiet one for some, or filled with company for others. Either way, it's best to find our own balance. Some need a burst of spontaneity, of fun and laughter. Some need that elusive alone-time, others want to read, to write, to go for that long walk, to play music, to watch a movie. A nap, anyone? Do we even know how tired we actually are? Whether we have just a few precious hours, or the whole day, or joy of joys, a few days, make it a retreat for your heart, for the deep aches of the inmost self. Get re-attuned to your natural rhythm.

Enjoy these accidental mini holidays, whenever they come along. Don't fill them with emails, phone calls, TV, chores, or social media. Everything can wait. This is an outstanding opportunity to spend the day listening and seeing, rather than planning and doing. This is a chance to receive the day as it unfolds.

Intuition tells us when to move on, where to go, and what to do or say next. By anchoring our attention on what surrounds us - listening to the sounds, seeing the activity in nature, following our intuition - we are in prayer. By being present to the Presence, we strengthen our ability to lead a contented blessed life, within the natural rhythm of Life, whatever our role.

This is a sacred discipline.

Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants something in his soul.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

Recovery

A host of golden daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. c. 1804.

At peak times of activity, work deadlines, family challenges and demands, we can often be left with a longing for rest time - a time to recover. It connects me too with the recovery time needed after a period of illness. There is often a blessing in the fatigue and weakness which we can encounter at these times. We have endured a period of hardship, and find ourselves empty and exhausted. 

Our strength and direction have momentarily left us. We don't feel able for much activity, if any, and even conversation can be demanding. At times of illness, we may have to hand ourselves and our well-being over to teams of doctors and specialists, who schedule us for tests, for diagnosis, and treatment. We are cared for by nurses or family members, who encourage us to eat something. 

In spite of it all, once pain is not excessive, we can be quite content in this momentary time of weakness. It keeps ambition and restlessness at bay - they too receive little energy or focus from us. That, in itself, is a great balm for the mind and body. We pace ourselves, getting a little exercise, eating a little wholesome food, snoozing, having a little read, a little conversation, and another snooze. Bit by bit, we continue to strengthen.

Recovery is a gentle time - time to rest, to be quiet, to let the inner rhythm dictate the pace. Time to admire the daffodils, the nesting birds, to feel the heat of the sun on our face, on our back. Time to see what nature is doing - it constantly gives us clues as to what we should be doing, or not doing, and the natural pace of the season. It is time to retreat, to go inwards and replenish. To go back to Source, and soothe the emptiness and confusion. It is a sacred time. Every now and again, it's good to recover. To take stock of our lives and our direction. To recover our balance, our rhythm, our natural way. To recover ourselves. 

To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects ... is to succumb to the violence of our times.

Thomas Merton

Every season moves onto the next. We will move forward again soon enough.

Easter Renewal

Essay published in Spirituality magazine, March/April 2015.

The gloriously scented bluebell

Easter is probably my favourite liturgical time of the year. At some point many years ago, I realised that a wonderful sense of wellbeing and enthusiasm comes over me at this time of year. It is also matched by the warming springtime, longer days, daffodils and bluebells. This sense of wellbeing arrives at Easter, and follows on from a quieter Lenten time of inner transformation and prayerfulness.

I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful than the bluebell I have been looking at. I know the beauty of our Lord by it.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Lent has traditionally been a time of prayer, fasting and helping others (almsgiving), when we engage in a period of renewal, and try in our own way to echo the 40 days our Lord spent in the wilderness, praying, fasting, and being tempted. It culminates at Easter when we take time to meditate on His Passion, and to celebrate His Resurrection.


It is a time of cleansing and sacrifice, of doing without unnecessary luxuries and of consciously trying to give up unhealthy habits and behaviours. Some people decide to give up something specific such as smoking, alcohol, chocolate or sugar, or at least to limit their levels of consumption. Others look towards their actions and try to give up bad habits, negative attitudes, unhelpful thinking or other limiting behaviours. Still others decide to take up a positive habit for Lent – getting more exercise, eating well, helping others, showing random acts of kindness, or offering their time to volunteer at a local organisation.


What I noticed about this season is that even if we find ourselves too busy or too stressed or for any reason unable or uninterested to engage consciously with this renewal, the renewal seems to happen anyway, albeit with probably a little more resistance from ourselves. Life energy is renewing itself, and we all benefit. God, as Life, is emptying us out, clearing out the cobwebs, and preparing for a freshness in our direction, in our thinking, and in our lives. It prepares us for a new beginning. It is an internal time, a time of releasing old and unwanted habits. We are being renewed from within.


This inner renewal can be far from easy. It can be a time of intense frustration, where nothing goes according to plan, and obstacles appear around every corner. It is a time of following, rather than leading. It is a time of sensitivity, of recognising our limitations, our flaws and our compulsions. We can gain great self-awareness during this time, and become wise to our tendencies and habitual reactivity to life. We can also become weary and despairing. This weariness is a good thing, as it makes us reluctantly accept and admit our limitations. Through an inner consent and surrender, we are then more open to welcoming God’s Way into our lives and circumstances.


Fasting has been a tradition in many cultures and religions throughout the centuries, cleansing the body, clarifying the mind, and renewing our spirit. Apart from food, the act of going without can mean abstaining from overindulging in work life, sport, TV, computers, tablets, Facebook and other technology. It can also mean noticing and trying to balance or curb our emotional responses at work and with loved ones, such as losing our patience, getting angry, or falling into despair.


The difficulties we may experience during Lent humble us and make us more aware of our weaknesses and imbalances. Through perseverance and prayer, we are echoing the temptations of Jesus in the wilderness, his prayers to his Father, and his overcoming of the temptations in the desert. We can often feel that parts of us are dying off at this time of year. It is the dying off of the old stale parts of us. It stirs a desire in us for the purity and simplicity of God’s love. It awakens in us a desire for prayer and devotion. We gain patience for the weaknesses of others. We may even find it easier to help others at this time. Through sacrifice, our internal needs are simplified.


By Easter, there is a great forward thrust in life, in nature and within ourselves. The darkness of winter gives way to the light of spring. The land becomes warm, crops are sown and vegetables are planted for the seasons ahead. We notice the quality of light changing, the length of our day, and daylight saving heralds a burst of evening light and activity. We feel back to our old selves, but better, because humility stays with us, and we remain sensitive to others needs. We are more generous with our desires. We want something, but because it benefits more than just ourselves. This season surrounds us with a sense of holiness and goodwill and acceptance of self, others and our circumstances. We are blessed and renewed.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

St. Patrick

Hail, glorious Saint Patrick, dear saint of our Isle

On us thy poor children bestow a sweet smile

And now thou art high in thy mansions above

On Erin's green valleys, look down in thy love.

Today marks the feast day of Saint Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland. It is a celebration which is marked throughout the world, when the Shamrock is worn, and the Green is on display.

Much of St. Patrick's life is the stuff of legend, but there are two surviving letters written by him in Latin, which give an insight into his life and his character - the Confession/Declaration (Confessio) and the Letter to Coroticus which tell of his early years, his faith, and his missionary life in Ireland as a bishop.


Early Years
He was born into a Christian family in Britain in approximately 390 AD. The family were of the Roman official class and were materially comfortable. When he was 16, he was captured and brought to Ireland as a slave, where his own faith was strongly tested. Coming from such a comfortable background, he now faced life threatening situations, isolation and hardship. It was in this context, where he worked for some time as a shepherd and faced his despair and aloneness, that his prayer life deepened and his faith matured. He came to know that God was present.

My faith grew stronger and my zeal so intense that in the course of a single day I would say as many as a hundred prayers and almost as many in the night. This I did even when I was in the woods and on the mountains. Even in times of snow or frost or rain I would rise before dawn to pray.

St. Patrick, The Confession

After 6 years, he heard a voice telling him he would soon go home, and this prompted him to make an attempt to escape from his master. He fled 200 miles to the coast and was eventually allowed to board a trading ship bound for Europe. Enduring more hardship, hunger and captivity, he finally made it home to his family in Britain. Profoundly affected by his experience, he decided to further deepen his faith and knowledge by embarking on a period of study of Christianity. It is believed he studied primarily in France, and was ordained by St. Germanus of Auxerre. His writings show his great understanding of the Bible and his familiarity with the earliest Fathers of the Church.

Responding to another vision where he heard "the voice of the Irish" calling him to them, St. Patrick returned to Ireland in approximately 432 AD to help spread the Christian faith. He undoubtedly received much resistance initially and was again held captive at times, but The Confession depicts a time of great conversion when St. Patrick baptised thousands of people, and ordained many priests. He felt this was his true vocation, and was filled with enthusiasm and energy to share his faith with the people of Ireland.


Legends
Irish folklore tells how St. Patrick used the three leaves of the Shamrock plant to explain the Holy Trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit - three persons in one God. The Shamrock remains an important symbol of St. Patrick and Ireland to this day.

Legend also tells how St. Patrick banished the snakes from the island, chasing them into the sea with his staff after they assailed him during a 40-day fast he was undertaking on top of a hill. This may be more symbolic than literal, associating St. Patrick with driving out the old, pagan ways out of Ireland and heralding in a new faith. It is also believed that it was more a merging of the valuable old Irish traditional and cultural beliefs with his teaching which moved forward into this new Christian faith.

Another tale describes whenever Patrick was teaching about Christianity, he would thrust his ash walking stick into the ground. On one spot at Aspatria (ash of Patrick), it is told that it took a long time to convince the people, that his ash stick had taken root before he had firmly planted his message. 

Later Years
After nearly thirty years of Evangelism, he died on 17 March 461, and according to tradition, was buried at Downpatrick. His life as a missionary was very successful. He endured constant danger, threats and further times of captivity, but saw "the flock of the Lord in Ireland growing splendidly with the greatest care" (The Confession). He had a deep knowing that God was working through him, guiding and protecting him, and this made him trust completely in his mission without worry for his safety. He had a love and belief in his vocation, and he offers an example to us of a grace-filled life. Patrick has endured as the principal champion of Irish Christianity and is held in great esteem in the Irish Church, and in the hearts of the Irish people. Relics of St. Patrick, including his Bell, are held at the National Museum of Ireland.

As a cultural day, St. Patricks Day is celebrated by the Irish and any other enthusiastic nationality wishing to don the Green for the day. Parades are being held in the major cities across the world, wherever the Irish have replanted themselves over many past generations. From the days of the famine in the 1840s, millions of Irish either chose or were forced to survive elsewhere in the world, bringing their Irishness with them, and hopefully managing to embody it as they welcomed the new cultures of their chosen destinations. On this day, we send our love to our friends and family overseas, we wear our Shamrock, we cheer at our parades, and we count our blessings for each other.

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

Image of St. Patrick, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Going Beyond The Shadows

Beyond The Shadows

There are times when we fight with shadows that don’t even exist. Then, there are times when we shock ourselves by the darker sides of our nature. We see that we contain openness and closed-mindedness and closed-heartedness. We contain dark and light, love and hate, peace and rage, acceptance and rebellion, hope and despair, success and defeat, approval and rejection. It seems the deeper we go into one polarity, the wider we can also swing in its equivalent polarity. We prefer the "nicer" places, and try and avoid the "darker" places.

We all have unloving qualities. We can rage against the flow of our lives. We can criticise others' weaknesses and interpret how they further complicate and frustrate our lives. We can blame Life and God for our difficulties and in spite of that, find no relief. We can move through our days and not once get beyond ourselves, our needs and demands. In spite of being dedicated to self-awareness, we lose control of our objectivity, we lose our patience, we get angry, we feel self-righteous or ashamed. Can we get over ourselves!

As we lapse in our Contemplative practices, our meditation, our awareness of Silence, our gaze and consent to Spirit, we land into the shadows, into upheaval, disharmony and chaos. It is inevitable. Restlessness is the natural way of our mind and emotions. We won't change this reality. Contemplation gently reminds us again to take the focus off ourselves and the events of our ever-changing lives, to widen our gaze, and plant it on Presence, on Stillness, on Silence, on Spirit, on whatever or however God is manifesting in our lives.

The shadows remind us we have become compromised. They help tire us again of our restlessness and self-centredness, and return our hunger for balance and harmony. They remind us not to settle for anything less than awareness and trust in the higher order playing out in our lives.

We are multi-flawed human beings, with plenty of shadows. Humility and surrender allow us to admit them, to admit our forgetfulness and our lapses, and to seek forgiveness from ourselves and our loved ones who witness our flaws up close. Circumstances not going our way mostly reveal that our way is insufficient and incomplete, and perhaps not loving to everyone concerned, and would therefore not serve us well, either. We are softened and emptied out even more, ever more.


The way of Love and Harmony will always win out, and we end up being thankful this is the case. It's never about us. It's always about how Love is unravelling itself in us.

When our attention is on ourselves, in the image-blindness of the ego, everything is a distraction from God. When attention is in God, with the vision of faith, everything reveals God to us.

Laurence Freeman OSB, The Selfless Self

Lead Kindly Light

Stained Glass at Mount Melleray Abbey

The Pillar of the Cloud

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; Lead Thou me on.

The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead Thou me on. 

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; 

one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that Thou shouldst lead me on; 

I loved to choose and see my path, but now lead Thou me on.

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, pride ruled my will: 

remember not past years. 

So long Your power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on, 

o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone; 

and with the morn those angel faces smile 

which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

John Henry Newman, at sea, 16th June 1833

Lenten Compline Hymn, Mount Melleray Abbey

I was very blessed to join in a prayerful retreat at Mount Melleray Abbey, near Cappoquin, where the above hymn was sung by the monks at the Compline office (evening prayer). It was composed by John Henry Newman in a period of turmoil, as he struggled to get home to England from Europe, and to pursue an inner pull to transform the Church. He endured loneliness, illness and a deep yearning to begin his quest, though he did not yet know what truly lay ahead for him.

I am in great gratitude for the presence of these inspiring Cistercian monks, who honour and live out their devotion to God, Love, Silence, Community and Contemplation, and allow us to join in and anchor ourselves there too. We know not what lies ahead for us, but by anchoring ourselves in the strength of our prayers, our deep inner knowing, and Silence, we invite and embody Rest.

Retreat

If the Cross is deeply contemplated, it is saying that love is supreme, and that the darkness and the apparent unfairness of life can be endured. In the Cross, love is able to speak ... speak to any human situation, whether of loss, of persecution, of disillusion.

Fr. John Woolley

As we begin the Lenten season, it reminds me again to look within, to recognise those unhelpful hiding places and defensive positions, those habitual reactions to others and to life, and to seek Love's comfort, Love's help, Love's understanding, Love's patience, Love's company, Love's solitude, Love's resilience, Love's invitation to surrender and overcome, Love's rest.