“To be a contemplative now, it is necessary to walk through nature softly, to be in tune with the rhythm of life, to learn the cycles of time, to listen to the heartbeat of the universe, to love nature, to protect nature, and to discover in nature the presence and the power of God.” – Joan Chittister.
Honestly, Maria is closer to a true contemplative than I am, but I am closer than before. She is the one who walks in the woods, marvels at the life of snails, and feels the heartbeat of the universe. I don’t have a single God to believe in, but I have a robust and growing spirit inside of me. That will be my God for now. That, and the silence.
Maria shares her love of life with me, and I am learning from her. There is a lot of contemplation in our lives, which is precious and deeply spiritual. The flowers bring me closer and closer to the spiritual life I want. The yellow one above feels like a dream; I can get lost.
I miss my garden beds but love looking back at the flowers. I remember every one of them.
On Wednesdays, Maria is gone for much of the evening, and while I miss her, I also revel in the silence and the peacefulness of being alone. In one way or another, I have been alone for much of my life. I need it and revel in it. The dogs are asleep, the chickens are in the roost, Zip is off sleeping somewhere safe, and the donkeys and sheep are in the Pole Barn resting quietly.
I write only by the light of the computer and one old table lamp. It is holy to me
My office feels like a temple to me, a holy place. No more doctors this year; we go to Vermont the day after Christmas, Tuesday and Wednesday. We’ve been going to the same Inn on Christmas every year since our wedding.
It is a safe and peaceful place, almost like a monastery in some ways. We bring books and do nothing but read and talk and occasionally eat.
The room we love has a reading room right off of the bedroom. I love that room, and we always ask for it. If we ask early enough, we can get it. I ask in June.
Like everyone’s life, my life is up and down, whole and meaningful. Most of the time, I am happy. My anxiety, lifelong illness, is never far but never stays too long.
I wouldn’t care to be always happy; life would be boring and stale. I live by how well I handle trouble, not by the little trouble I have.
Trouble always finds me, as it does every soul reading this. But so does joy and meaning. Sleep well. See you in the morning.
May PEACE be the gift 2024 gives you in all you seek, strive for, see, hear, experience and do.
“I live by how well I handle trouble, not by the little trouble I have.” This is my mantra for 2024, Jon. Thank you.
You know it’s interesting that at first glance, your top photo of the yellow flower was like I was seeing a universe or a photo taken of some cosmic structure in deep space. I’d like to come up with some comment about how in nature there’s an echo of the universe in everything, but my old brain just can’t construct it today. But with your sensitivity I know you know what I mean.And, as ever, your writings hit home and enhance my morning contemplations. I no longer feel so alone in many things. Thank you again , Jon.
Thank you
I identify closely with you Jon. I suffered from anger in the past. I suppose I got that from my father, whose outbursts were very scary during all of my childhood. But I have learned from my wonderful wife to live with a spirit of equanimity, peace, calmness and love. I haven’t felt angry in years. It’s a good feeling. It’s great to be kind.