Carl Jung coined the word “synchronicity” to denote an experience that so coincides with a need that it seems to be somehow part an parcel of reality. Most people have these experiences, some so outlandish that those who have them are convinced that there is something greater than they are involved. There is one book out call “when God winks” to discuss this phenomenon.
I suppose I have had my share, and I would like to relate one of these experiences that happened to me many years ago,
Dr. George G. Ritchie, a psychiatrist who, as a young man at Camp Barkeley in Texas, "died" for nine minutes during a horrible bout of pneumonia and claimed to have been shown the afterlife by none other than Jesus. You discern. We wrote about him a while back and feel compelled to revisit aspects we could not focus upon back then, for the experience was powerful at many unexplored levels.
When he saw Jesus, wrote Dr. Ritchie, it was a far more masculine power than he expected, not the meek im
He lies peacefully in his bed
Now his permanent home
Where he rules all he surveys
Often entertaining many who drop by
With smiles and laughter
Pointing and non-stop talking happy with the attention
From the many he knew in years long passed
Many come and he welcomes them
Though no one else can see.
Nonetheless the attention that he favors them with,
Is real,
Patiently listening to what they have to say
Reliving past episodes,
That brings forth tears of joy and sorro
The bright sun on the white sand and rocks
Reflected a strong glare causing the eyes to water,
The blue sky empty of clouds opened up to infinity,
The cool breeze with the sweet smell of the salty water
Allowing calm to descend were just a moment ago was missing.
The sound of the waves pounding the beach,
So soothing its crashing upon the sand
Its rhythm allowing the mind to rest in peace deeper than sleep,
A refreshing break from simply existing apart,
Drawing into the oneness
Loss is a silent companion,
Its cold embrace,
Empty of all that was before
Fits like a black vest,
Tightly zipped,
Forced up to the throat
Blocking breath,
Clinging in its need to feed.
With no where to go or hide
Since it is in the heart,
The center of life
That the void is felt.
Unrelenting in its lovemaking,
That leads only further down the road of loneliness,
Where all fears are felt to be true,
In a place that is shorn of all color or vibrancy.
To dare love
The frog sat without movement
Blinking in the mist laden air,
Surrounded by fog and padded silence;
Its color a bright green
With eyes large and dark
Lending a serene beauty
As it patiently waited for whatever it needed
Food or a mate I did not know
As it sat unmindful of its perfection,
Or the effect it had on me.
Failure stared him in the face
Mocking all that he has ever tried to do,
Seeking to lead him down the path of regret,
That eventually can mature into despair
Leading into the world that is colored ever so softly
In shades of grey.
Easy on the eye but lifeless and silent,
The wrong kind that leads into nihilism,
A world in which nothing matters
Nothing last or is important.
The man was used to the world of soft shadows
Knowing well the dust filled land
A drought that choke
Joy is there
The light ever present enveloping
Upholding the one loved.
Often hidden but at work none the less even if in secret.
Slowly bringing to light the fruit long in coming
Overcoming the darkness of fear
Depression
Failure
That often haunts those who seek the good
The conflict often wounding
Forcing the broken to choose to move forward
To trust
That Joy will win out in the end
No matter how bleak it seems.
Life is not dark
Though at times it seems so
Suff
Each day so much like one before it
Just little differences
That make some stand out,
Remembered,
Even pondered,
While the rest sink into forgetfulness,
Oblivion,
Never again to see the light.
Memories hide,
Forgotten,
Buried in the cave beneath thought,
With roots deep,
Alive,
Influencing in secret
That makes us a mystery to ourselves
In how we sometimes are.
Am I my past or am I my thoughts at this moment?
What will I be in the future?
Perhaps I am none o
The pain of the world,
Its sorrow,
Weighs heavily in all our hearts,
Some more in touch than others
With its depth.
Many hide from its sting
Becoming tough,
Cynical,
Angry,
Aloof,
Anything to keep empathy,
Compassion,
At bay,
That if allowed to grow
Will make the heart bleed,
Weep,
Moan for all their brothers and sisters,
Suffering with no one to help,
Or to be with.
Does God weep?
Being present to all,
No way to deflect
The agony
Of all the children
There is a proverb that always seems to speak to me…..”Trust the process”…..a simple statement no doubt, but when meditated upon when going thru some change in life, can be very helpful, and even comforting.
Change can bring to the surface many conflicting emotions, and feelings; excitement, fear, and anxiety, with each flowing thru the conscious awareness one after another, sometimes perhaps being experienced all at once. Causing a swift experience of “ups” and “downs”, that can be unnervi
Learning a new job is like learning a new dance step. I remember when my sister-in-law tried to show me how to do the 2-step. Looks easy, and it is, but learning to do it without counting takes some time; meanwhile the actual counting also makes it hard to do, since it interferes with the actual rhythm that is needed to do anything right, be it dancing or not; to do it properly
Right now I am so busy trying to get all the “details” right that it takes me twice the time that it took Theresa to
He is like an infant now
In his geriatric chair
Table up so he cannot fall,
If he tries to stand up on his own.
He does not know he cannot walk
He stills smiles when his name is called
Laughs at jokes
Loves music
Is present to those around
How much no one knows
He leans to his right
Almost over the arm rest
Nothing can be done to make him straight
When ask if he has pain
He responds he is comfortable
Eats only soft foods
Stating to have trouble taking meds
He s
I have been asked to give a talk on Anger, Resentment, and Forgiveness; a subject I feel I know a lot about, since anger is an issue that I have been dealing with all my life. I am not an intellectual, so my talks tend to be more autobiographical than anything else, and sometimes it gives me pause when I think about it.
One of the reasons I like blogging is that I have an avenue that I can simply state what I feel I need to state, and then send it to be read by people who really don’t know
Deep down in the depths
In places perceived as dark,
Hidden from view,
Maybe forgotten
Or perhaps feared,
Is a knot,
Gideon like,
Tightly wrought,
Unbreakable,
Protective,
Of the one who is its creator,
Even if brought forth unknown
In ignorance.
Purposeful none the less
Even if its time is outlived,
It cannot be undone.
The burden heavy,
If not felt,
Its influence seen
The effects witnessed
By those who know the one suffering,
Who perhaps see their ref
There is a yearning in the human heart
Often going without a name,
Experienced as a wound by some,
By others a simple longing.
An inner thirst,
Unquenchable,
Showing no mercy to the Soul,
Allowing no permanent rest
Since it cannot be owned
But only sought.
This yearning points beyond what we have,
It almost seems that we are also pursued.
That being also yearned for
Is what draws us forward.
Seeking union with that which has no name,
Nor form,
Yet present in the
He is not the person he was once,
Cannot say what he wants,
Yet still knows he has something to say.
He stutters
The frustration showing in his eyes
Aching to say something,
Anything that forms a complete thought,
But he cannot.
He is present,
Aware,
Just in a different way,
That makes him seem absent
To those who perceive from outside.
He knows,
He feels,
In ways different than before,
Yet the fire,
Humor,
And love still shine forth.
He reaches to tap me o
About a year and a half ago, when Leo, and Damian, first went into Morningside, I would take them out to lunch once a week. They both enjoyed it; the time spent with them was very pleasant and happy. They liked to go and get hamburgers, or perhaps a hotdog, and afterwards go over to Dairy Queen for some ice cream. They loved the ice cream Sundays with lots of syrup on it. This went one for a few weeks, but I had to stop since the director of Morningside told me that Damian would come back a
Quenching
The sun beats down
Upon the one who thirsts,
Throat parched,
Tongue swollen,
Screaming for cool water,
The mind obsessed,
Growing deeper
Each moment tormented.
The stream was heard from afar
The beauty of the sound
Greater
More thrilling
Than any sound ever heard,
The body frantic
Its desire
All consuming
With a joyful noise,
The crystal clear treasure
Flowed past rapidly,
Its smell intoxicating,
Almost leading to madness,
Until the hands cupped
The precious liqu
Chains of oppression and mercy/justice
The belief that God is merciful is often hard for many to accept or to understand. Mercy is often thought of as something for another, a wrong doer, someone who has caused personal harm. To let the one receiving mercy off the hook. Which is a dangerous illusion to actually believe, forestalling healing for all involved in any situation in which evil is done to another.
Justice is more readily embraced, for then the scales are righted and order restor
Prayer for the dead
(community day of remembrance)
Lord, today we pray for those who have gone before us,
those we know and those we do not, our Christians brothers and sisters,
and all those who have died seeking love, truth, and justice in this world.
For those who have loved truly, yet need further mercy,
and healing, such is the work of your grace.
Each moment is yours, as is each soul,
all are known and loved by you, such is your heart,
eternal, and infinite in love
and comp
The benefits of the Rosary are many
While non-Catholics (many of them) do not think much of the Rosary. I guess it is because of 'Mary'. They seem to have some real problems with our devotion to her. Yet the Rosary is a powerful tool for prayer. I would say it is my main form of prayer when I am not sitting in silence. I can do that for only so long, and then my mind starts to jump up and down, bounce off the inner wall of my skull, and wow, my brain can be insane in what it brings up. An en
Dealing with anxiety in a world of insecurity
First and foremost, the monk should own nothing in this world, but he should have as his possessions solitude of the body,
modesty of bearing,a modulated tone of voice, and a well-ordered manner of speech.
He should be without anxiety as to his food and drink, and should eat in silence. Saint Basil
++++++++++
I would like to start off by saying that even though I am a monk. Have been one for 50 years, I am not sure I do any of the above
All Souls Day
O Lord in prayer we enter your time,
that moment in which all moments are contained,
so on All Souls day we do pray
for all who have entered into your ‘Eternal Now’,
let us bring all those we know,
for those who lived before
and will come after,
for in your eternal ‘Now’
all moments are one.
For those we love we pray O Lord,
for those we just passed by,
and worked with,
for these who have died,
we also lift to you,
As well as the poor who die in
