Dedicated to the Contemplative and Mystical wisdom at the core of all traditions, including Judaism, Christianity, Sufism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, and to the core of our own mystical Heart within.
Exploring how Silence and the Contemplative Way infuse into our ordinary everyday active lives, how Awareness manifests itself, and how we can respond to the call to rest into the divinity within.

Thursday, 29 January 2015

Thomas Merton

Thomas Merton


Thomas Merton was born on 31 January 1915. Worldwide seminars and gatherings are planned on this date and throughout this year to commemorate his centenary and honour his spiritual legacy.

Thomas Merton was born in Prades, France. His father was an artist from New Zealand, and his mother, also an artist and diarist, was American. He suffered much bereavement and isolation in his younger years, losing his mother to illness at age 6, and his father at age 15. His only sibling, a younger brother, died serving in the second world war when Thomas Merton was 28, shortly after joining the Abbey of our Lady of Gethsemani in Kentucky as a Trappist monk. He also had health troubles from time to time, and was once gravely ill with sepsis.

He had grown up with very little faith or religious training, though his father possessed a deep faith from his Church of England upbringing in New Zealand. Thomas Merton had always admired the ruins of the many monasteries surrounding him in rural France, and at the age of 18 was suddenly engrossed by a visit to the many churches and basilicas in Rome, and even remarked during his visit to a Trappist monastery there, that he would like to become a Trappist monk. Around this time also, he began a lifelong resonance with the poetry of William Blake.

He moved numerous times with his father in his early years - from France to New York, Bermuda, back to France, and then settled for a period in London. His writing endeavours began as a young teenager in a French boarding school where he wrote two novels, and continued once in London by becoming one of the editors of the school magazine. After his father died, he went through a wreckless phase partying and socialising, adjusting to his independent life, and travelling around Europe.

He attended Cambridge University under the support of his guardian, a friend of his father. He had very little sense of faith at this time, and even held the Catholic Church and institutional Church structures generally, in disdain. His guardian elected to send him back to New York in an effort to curb his excessive ways, and after he had finished his exams, he duly relocated back near his maternal grandparents and enrolled at Columbia University in New York.

 He became quite dedicated to his studies there, and had some prominent and inspiring lecturers, including Mark van Doren and Dan Walsh, who became lifelong friends. This was also a time when he began studying the philosophies and theologies of the world in great depth. He also began to truly explore Catholicism and mysticism in earnest during this time, and began to pray again. He was greatly impacted by the writings of Étienne Gilson, Gerard Manley Hopkins, CS Lewis, the lives of the saints, and meeting with lecturers and philosophers such as Jacques Maritain.

During this period, he followed a strong internal pull to join the Catholic Church, and in 1938 he was baptised and received Communion in Corpus Christi Church in New York, followed by his Confirmation there the following year. This strengthened his vocation and he began to speak to religious advisers about the prospect of joining an order and becoming a priest. Partly due to his wreckless phase in England, he was initially rejected by the Franciscans, causing him much grief. However, his faith and prayer life continued to deepen and with it the certainty that he wanted to become a priest.

Having completed his MA in English from Columbia University, he began teaching at St. Bonaventure University in New York. The University still holds a volume of Thomas Merton's materials. He also became briefly involved as a volunteer with Friendship House in Harlem, working with its founder, Catherine de Hueck, and was greatly affected by the poverty and conditions there. He was very impressed with the impact Friendship House was having, especially on the children.

In 1941 Thomas Merton went on an Easter retreat at the Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani in Kentucky, a Trappist Cistercian Abbey, which impacted him profoundly. He felt drawn to the Silence of the contemplative order there, in spite of the severe Trappist traditions, and finally, on 10th December that year, he arrived at the Abbey and applied to join the order. After three days in the guesthouse, Thomas Merton was accepted, and so began his monastic journey and his development as one of the world's most profound thinkers and communicators of Contemplation and spiritual wisdom. He was ordained Fr. M Louie in 1949.


It is a great thing when Christ, hidden in souls ... manifests Himself unexpectedly by an unplanned expression of His presence. Then souls light up on all sides with recognition of Him and discover Him in themselves when they did not even imagine He could be anywhere.
From The Sign of Jonas


He was a prolific writer, and has written over 60 books as well as hundreds of poems, essays, journals and letters. His autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, became a bestseller, and inspired many others to seek out their own vocation. Other popular works include New Seeds of Contemplation, No Man is an Island, The Secular Journal, Mystics and Zen Masters, and The Way of Chuang Tzu. There have been numerous posthumous publications and it is believed there is still an enormous body of work as yet unexamined, which will hopefully be published in the future. His topics ranged from Contemplation to monastic spirituality, interdenominational faith, peace, non-violence and civil rights. I have found his most inspiring material to be his own self-reflections in his body of personal journals, and books such as The Sign of Jonas and Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander. He is one of the most influential Catholic writers, and his relevance and inspiration in today's world is exemplified by the publication of over 40 books about him in the past two years.

A year before he died suddenly from accidental electrocution in Bangkok where he spoke at an inter-faith conference, he set up the Merton Legacy Trust, naming Bellarmine College (now University) in Louisville, Kentucky as the repository of his material. A Thomas Merton Centre was set up there in 1969 and is now located in the Library at Bellarmine University, and houses over 50,000 items in a vast collection of his written works and memorabilia. He died on 10th December 1968, exactly 27 years to the day since he entered the Abbey at Gethsemani. At that time, he was in a profound place of good health, expansion, clarity of mind, with a tremendous contemplative heart.


... the greater grace for each individual is the one God wills for him. If God wills you to die suddenly, that is a greater grace for you than any other death, because it is the one He has chosen, by His love, with all the circumstances of your life and His glory in view.
From The Sign of Jonas


He was a true academic, with the patience and determination to write to experts in all fields across the US and the world, to get the deepest possible understanding of matters philosophical, theological, psychological, religious, and linguistic. He also had skills in photography, poetry, calligraphy, drawing, and languages, and translated many manuscripts from Latin, and French.

He corresponded, researched and examined the mystical dimensions of the other world religions, including Buddhism, Zen philosophy, Sufism and Hinduism. He wrote books on Buddhism and Taoism, and many Buddhist monks were invited to visit him at the Abbey. He corresponded in writing and became friends with DT Suzuki, Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama. In 1968, having received permission from his Abbot, he embarked on an extensive Asian tour, including a visit to Dharamsala in India to meet the Dalai Lama. The Dalai Lama felt he had found in Merton what it meant to be a true Christian, and concluded that there were very few Christians to have as deep an understanding of Buddhism and Zen as Thomas Merton. He was fascinated to recognise the depth of spiritual experience present in these Eastern traditions, and equated it with his own. He could recognise and saw examples of the contemplative life in these traditions.

What characterised him most in his latter years was tenderness and holiness. He taught the novice monks, and strengthened a bond of brotherhood. He championed the saints - St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila, The Cloud of Unknowing. He had been transformed internally from a wreckless youth to a contemplative, prayerful monk. He was quick to admit his failures. He felt tremendous pain for his failings, but through it showed his humanness and humility to re-affirm his faith, time and time again. He was very restless for many years, and battled with an internal pull to leave the Cistercians and join the Carthusians. He struggled constantly with the call to write, eventually realising his very Being, his very Peace depended on continuing to write. He understood that sanctity for him was precisely through the challenges and difficulties he faced with writing. He had many arguments with his early Abbot regarding a desire for his own Hermitage on the grounds of the Abbey. This was finally granted in his final years, and is now preserved for visitors to the Abbey. I think it is his failings and struggles which most inspire and help me, knowing that he too struggled with his weaknesses, knowing God's emptying process was taking place in him.

He warned against spiritual self-indulgence, quietism, and retreating from life. That is not contemplation. It is the bearing with life, the surrender to life as it is, day by day, and the courage to go through the challenges and joys, which allow ourselves to be utterly emptied out of our superficial exterior selves, and to finally rest in God, in Being, in Truth.


No life requires a more active or more intense formation, a more ruthless separation from dependence on exterior support, than the life of contemplation. 
From The Inner Experience


His was a fully questioned life. His experiential awareness brought him from a place of no faith, to a place of surrender, tenderness, clarity and ultimately to a place of deep love.


Photograph by John Howard Griffin

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

Withdraw yourself from all care

Withdraw Yourself


Presence speaks in many wordless ways. The events of our life as they unfold are the clearest words. Life is endlessly speaking wisdom into our hearts. Life is challenging us to allow even greater ease, even greater freedom, disguised as hardship and limitation. Once allowing is allowed, it presents our deepest places yet longing for freedom, longing to be allowed. Present all to the Presence that breathes wisdom and clarity into our being. We will know what to say when the time is right.



Withdraw yourself from all care; trust not in yourself but in Him; do not be anxious or solicitous to perform great works for Him until He leads you Himself, by obedience and love and the events which His providence directs, to undertake the works He has planned for you and by which He will use you to communicate the fire of His love to other men.
Thomas Merton



Friday, 23 January 2015

A Contemplative Practice





Contemplation is a form of prayer and inner knowing. Thomas Merton calls it the intuitive grasp by which love gains certitude of God's creative and dynamic intervention in our daily life. Contemplation isn't something we do, but rather an explanation or description of how we are transformed from within. St. John of the Cross wrote about this inner transformation in The Dark Night of the Soul. We become emptied and purified by life's trials and experiences. It is in the daily, often unsure, living of our lives when we consent to this process of being transformed, that we can ultimately rest back into our true nature. Here, Wisdom grows, and we recognise ourselves. A daily Contemplative practice helps us surrender moment by moment to this process, and brings us back to Resting in God (St. Gregory The Great).


In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.

If a man wishes to be sure of the road he treads on, he must close his eyes and walk in the dark.
St. John of the Cross.



Here are some contemplative practices which help to stay anchored in the Heart:
  1. Exercise every day, even if it is a short 15 minute walk. The body needs it.
  2. Get out into nature, or at least let your eyes visit it. Nature knows balance.
  3. Have a moment of prolonged silence. Practice meditation or meditative movement. Plan a retreat to immerse deeper into Silence.
  4. Develop the ability to hear intuitively. Practice listening and receiving. Surrendering is allowing situations to be as they are. Active times move seamlessly into times of retreat and then forward again into action. Move and respond to this rhythm.
  5. Let music feed your Spirit.
  6. There is a season for everything. Allow things and people to ebb and flow.
  7. Know yourself. Forgive your flaws and habitual reactions - they'll probably always be with you. Contemplation brings them to rest. Allow others to have their flaws.
  8. Laugh, a lot.
  9. Love. Someone at rest with themselves can love easily.
  10. Be willing to grieve how little you know, how little power you have, how misunderstood you can be, how painful your circumstances can become. This is purification - the dark night of the soul. Grief transforms into a deep peace and inner knowing.
  11. Know what anchors you and brings you inner Rest. Consent to it.
  12. Read sacred enlightened texts daily. Remember and recognise Truth.
  13. Consent to Spirit/God/Presence within. This is Contemplative Prayer. You are being prayed into Being.



Start thinking about a practice you can manage. Contemplation invites you to make anchoring your practice, and then do it continually. There is no success, no failure. By allowing the current moment to be as it is, Rest is welcomed. You are home.



Sunday, 18 January 2015

The First Snow

The First Snow of the Season



The New Year has started with an urgency to put some sense on what lies ahead for us in 2015. Resolutions, prayers, hopes and wish lists are made. Decisions are finalised. We're determined and confident, yet mildly unsure and perhaps overambitious.

Mondays are often like that. We get an overview of what our demands are for the full week ahead, and often catch ourselves trying to get it all done by Monday evening. By Tuesday, we have made steady progress. On Wednesdays, we find time for a cuppa, and to reach out to a friend. On Thursdays, we wonder what all the fuss was about on Monday, as we find the demands diminishing, our perspective shifting, and we sail easily through lists and emails and housework and activities. By Friday, we are enjoying the bigger picture. The weekend gets busy with non-routine, with family time, with walks, with some sacred time, and we seek out time, places and people to balance and inspire us. Inevitably we find ourselves slowly gathering momentum, and by Sunday evening we're getting organised wondering how we will manage it all again next week! 

I sense the Tuesday energy kicks in around mid-February. Wednesdays are probably around Easter. Thursdays are May. Fridays are early August. Saturdays are late September/early October, and Sundays are November and December. Then there's the opposite rhythm of the Southern Hemisphere (It's probably a Thursday or Friday there now), and the rhythm of the Earth as a whole, and on and on to infinity.

There's nothing like Nature's Rhythm to interrupt the cycle of our routine. The first snow came into our lives this week with much childish fun and excitement. There were moments of Glee! We also had delays and cancellations and had to re-think our plans. Icy roads, car trouble, frozen water pipes, heating problems (or cooling problems if you're like my friends in Australia) all cause havoc. Cancellations in transport, work, school or even an appointment to the doctor can frustrate and delay our tightly planned schedules.

I've started to not worry about delays and cancellations. I've seen many last-minute re-directions come into my life, swerving me from going off on unnecessary tangents, or perhaps saving me from untold anguish. They are Blessings in disguise. Life is interrupting us to bring us home. It's not vital to finish what you are doing this very moment. It really isn't. It will get done. Change your energy. Get out and move, or get home and rest.

An Irish cup of tea is one of my most valuable companions. I've endured and celebrated many of my deepest trials over copious cups of tea! Even when I became too upset to eat, I could always handle a cup of tea! The tea makes me sit down and look out the window, across the fields to the horizon. It makes me stand at the doorway and listen to the birds outside. It makes me take a deeper breath. It makes me sigh. It makes me take a moment. It makes me share a moment with family or friends. It soothes the effort and the trying inside. It moves me into a place of trust and surrender. There's always water in the kettle!



Look across the fields to the horizon



Sometimes, beauty is so beautiful, we have to pause, whether it's Monday, Tuesday, April, May or November. The first snow - it is a new beginning, when the purity of the landscape and lives around us shine white and bright. It is a welcome interruption.


Beauty and simplicity preserve the spirit from distraction and lead it to God. Beauty leads to Contemplation and is a sort of sacrament of the eternal beauty of God.
André Louf


Find the rhythm of the day. Instead of time and task management, intuition can find the natural pulse and rhythm moving around and through us. An enormous sense of natural effort and progress merge in this rhythm. Tasks get done, but with a greater sense of well-being and inner quiet. Loosen the schedules and pause. A deep breath and a long look to the horizon can refresh and reconnect our attention inwards to re-align with that natural rhythm. Be Yourself. Be present to the Presence.

Contemplation tells us to allow the interruptions. Allow the setbacks. Allow the frustrations. Allow them all. Then, wait for the pulse, and begin again. Nature's Rhythm is eternal.



Nature's Rhythm



It's a New Year. May goodness, blessings and good fortune surround you this year.

Monday, 12 January 2015

A Heart Without Words




I am neither a man of letters nor of science,
but I humbly claim to be a man of prayer.
It is prayer that has saved my life.
Without it I would have lost my reason long ago.
If I did not lose my peace of soul, in the midst of my many trials,
it is because of the peace that comes to me through prayer.
Mahatma Gandhi


Mahatma Gandhi said that prayer is not asking. It 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."

How many times have we found it impossible to put words on what is in our hearts? Words often cannot capture the landscape there, or touch the yearning. We may try to find words to describe it, but they inevitably fall short.

I have always known that the deepest aches of the heart are always heard. They are utterances longing for rest. Sometimes just being heard is enough for them. At others, the allowing of the interior ache to exist brings untold relief. Sometimes, we have to practice patient unknowing until some sense of resolution eventually comes.

We have also known times when the deepest joys have sculpted the interior landscape in ways we find difficult to express. When we tried to share these moments, they paled in significance, and we eventually learned to treasure these places within, no longer holding the necessity to bring others there.

We do not need to speak. We do not need words. The heart speaks volumes. And it is heard. This is Contemplation.



  We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.
Romans 8:26


Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Beyond Resilience




Each life is a mystery that is never finally available to the mind's light or questions. That we are here is a huge affirmation; somehow life needed us and wanted us to be.
John O'Donohue



What we can miss most at times of turmoil is Rest, the ability to move through our daily activities with the often unappreciated comforts of familiarity and knowingness. Turmoil introduces change, doubts, insecurities, frustrations, and an unknowingness of what new direction will unfold.

At times we overreact. We grade the level of turmoil as being higher than it actually is. Even a small trigger can catch us believing for a time something hugely significant is happening. At other times, we are shocked how wide the ripples and how deep the implications of change which are thrust upon us.

I always felt resilience was one of the most enviable of human qualities, found more in some people than others. Resilience and adaptability help shorten the adjustment time in periods of change. This bounce-back-ability is often seen to be at its peak in children. They may cry in pain after a fall or a falling-out with a sibling or friend, and then quickly recover and begin a new game together. The compulsion for fun and the enjoyment of the moment or the game, or the company of their buddy, by far overrides any pain they can now hardly even remember. It seems at some point, the felt pains stack up, even for children, and a subtle strategy to avoid pain begins, and can last a lifetime if left unchallenged.

Even for those lucky adults who have a high level of resilience, there are many times when they too find themselves at a loss and struggle to adjust to what life is presenting. Grief, illness, relationships, home life, work, finances, and funnily enough, even the weather can severely affect our equilibrium. We need time to come back to Resting. (See Be Yourself Post)

I knew I was hearing Truth when I realised Contemplation concerned not so much a quick-fix solution or a dogma, as a re-directing inwards of my attention and focus. It invites the fullness and impossibility of a situation to exist, and with it, the full vulnerability of Unknowing. In time, we gain 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 us. This takes us beyond resilience.



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. Usually the solution consists in a discovery that they only existed insofar as they were inseparably connected with your own illusory exterior self. The solution of most such problems comes with the dissolution of this false self.
 Thomas Merton




The Deep Unknowing






O Innocent One who trembles
Your naked wound exposed
The silent heart is pounding
And pain of yearning burns

When all else fails and the heart sinks low
When others fall short in their reach
And you are left all alone

O pity of heaven upon me
And ears of all who can hear
Bring down your fortress over me
Fortify the walls and strengthen the gates 
And let Peace reign again once more

Stay
Breathe
Breathe deeper still
You are not alone
I Am Here
Let all be Mine, yes all

The pushing undone
The Silence quietens
The running slows

Listening,  
There is no place to hide
No stones left unturned
Only the bowing to the deep Unknowing.


 Image courtesy of imgkid.com