This post is about what it means to work to develop a profound and definitive spiritual life.

It’s about small steps that lead to enormous change. It’s about taking time out of every day – right after lunch – and appreciating my life and taking in the peace, love, and beauty around me.

Itd’s about silence and thought, my own substitute for prayer.

It’s about the idea of Reposa – rest.

Minnie knows how to rest.

In his 1,500-year-old rules, St. Benedict envisioned a balanced life of prayer and work as the ideal. His guide and rules for life seem more relevant than ever in our angry, distracted, and often cruel world.

I am working hard to slow down, find silence, think more, and ensure I have time to rest.

Monastics would spend time in prayer so as to discover why they’re working and would spend time in work so that good order and harmony would prevail in the monastery.

Few of us live in monasteries; we must find our way to our own idea of spirituality.

The Benedict Rules revolve around five practices: Prayer, Work, Humility, Thought, and Renewal. Prayer is the foundation of the monastic life and calling and can be a constant part of the life of non-monastics as well.

I take what I need. Dogma is a starting point for me, rarely a finish.

The Italians call this post-meal rest Reposa, a time for quiet and rest. Italians live a lot longer than Americans, mostly eating whatever they want. They understand the need to rest in a chaotic and distracting world.

The Imperious hens symbolize work to me; they rarely stop from the second they jump out of the roost to absolute darkness. It takes excellent heat to get them to seek shade under a bush.

My raised garden beds are starting to take form; three weeks ago, they were covered in snow. I’m planting now for the summer and buying some plants for now.

I sometimes wonder what spirituality and humility have to do in the age of the Loud and the Angry, a world where nobody minds their own business or even grasps an idea.

Spirituality and humility are essential to me, even as I sometimes fail to embrace them. Joan Chittister has her answer: “It leads us to recognize that the roots of integrity, of peace, lie in the earthiness, in the humus, that is our nature.“