Category: Solitude

Slow down, God tells me

6/3/2024

Below is my recent Cottage by the Sea blog entry. Here is my prayer addition.
     It wasn’t just The Selves telling me to slow down. God was speaking, telling me it wasn't enough to have a quiet morning prayer time and then go out into the world in a frenzy.

     I've come out to sit in the yard and enjoy this  beautiful rare day in  June.  As I put my chair down in a shady place on the lawn, my eye caught  our resident fox making his way through the fence. After noting that animals don't impose on solitude the way humans do, I took a few deep breaths, offered a prayer of gratitude, and began to write about the little talk I had with my selves this morning.
      The Selves had told me that I was spending too much mental energy making decisions and plans, and then rushing about accomplishing this and that, OR, not accomplishing this and that. My hyper self had geared itself into high gear, and now it was time to shift to a slow trot, at least time enough to enjoy the flowers.
      Next The Selves game me a couple of suggestions: 1.When you start perseverating on plans, stop and say RELEASE (which I've done). 2. CANCELL some of those plans (which I did). 3. Give yourself chunks of time to do what you long to do (which I'm doing right now).
      I'm writing this blog: A blog for those who are looking for silence, solitude and simplicity, and who sometimes want to be alone. No wonder I wasn't writing! I wasn't giving myself time alone.

P.S.  I just looked up the hill and saw an animal sitting on the window frame of a 60 year old dilapidated horse stall in the woods. Was it our resident possum? I walked closer but before I could take a picture, it scurried away. Maybe, along with flowers, The Selves are telling me to enjoy animals.

Fiesole and monastic life

4/12/2016

Childhood memories of being with God swept through me yesterday as I walked the hilly streets of Fiesole, sat in the park, and prayed at the Chiesa di San Francesco. I was reminded of a recent sermons by one of the Brothers of SSJE who suggested we recall a childhood memory of being with God as a way of tapping into God’s presence in our lives. I filed away the idea, but didn’t consider it until yesterday.
   There I was, a three year old playing among the trees, a ten year old in the woods setting up a little private place for myself, and finally as a nineteen year old sitting in the cloister of San Lorenzo here in Florence. Again I was in a place of calm, without obligations or reasons for being other than with God, and that was enough. Yes, I thought, living here in this little monastery would be enough.
   The monastic life appeals to me because all that is required is commitment to the Christian message that we love God--the sole message for our souls. And yet, how hard it is to practice, how impossible it is to do on our own. There is no rational way to go through the eye of the needle; only through the Spirit can we feel and experience God’s love; only through the Spirit can we be released from judgments; only through the Spirit can we live only with love. Like the psalmists, we try, we love, we fail, we ask where God is, we plea for help, we love again.
   This morning while walking to my favorite café after Centering Prayer, the thought came to me to live through love. Keep love in my mind with everything I do. It’s all about attitude. It started with purchasing a cappuccino.

Be still and know that I am God~

6/22/2015

Here’s what I posted on my cottage-by-the-sea blog. I want to add that although there is always something more to say about prayer, there is also nothing more to say about prayer. As the psalmist tells us, Be still, and know that I am God.

"I’m home from one of the most satisfying pilgrimages I have ever made to Scotland and Iona. Maybe the reason has to do with the internet access that was undependable, and when available, very weak. Posting a single picture was slow; posting a slideshow, usually impossible. Then to top it off, I left my computer plug at the hotel, forcing me for the last two days of the trip to conserve my phone battery—no picture taking—and computer battery—no writing.

"After my initial frustration, when I accepted how it was, I found I was relieved to be excused from my self-imposed obligation to post every day. I noticed that I stopped thinking about what to write, and in doing so, my thinking shifted and even stopped. I was in the moment, with nothing to say, which is still how I’m feeling now that I’m home.

"I wonder how this will play out in the next few weeks? Will my commitment to keep the blog going continue? Will I have anything to say? Life at home for the next three weeks will be anything but solitary, silent or simple, but when activity abates, what will I have to add to what I’ve written in the past five years? Can I truly be alone in simple silence? Tune in and see. "

Carrying silence, solitude and simplicity with me wherever I go~

5/6/2015

Finally, I’m back to posting. I took a break while finishing Very Grateful, which is now off to the copy editor and then on to production. I was surprised at the relief I felt the moment I wrote my response to my editor’s final suggestion. It had to do with ending my cottage-by-the-sea days. This past winter would have been my sixth season, but the owner became ill and wasn’t able to go to Florida, so I stayed home.

In that final writing i discovered that I don’t need the cottage any more, that I can carry silence, solitude and simplicity with me wherever I go.

This realization wasn’t an answer to a particular prayer, but I believe it was a response to the prayerful work I have been doing to keep God in the forefront of my life. Oh, I fail miserable, but every morning I pray for God’s presence to be with me throughout the day, and so even though I’m not conscious of it all the time, I believe it is there. The more intentional I am about it, the more certain it will be.

It is a comfort to believe and come to know that our intention and effort at prayer continues to work in us whether we are aware of it or not.

Prayer time on center stage~

6/23/2014

Presently I’m at the Minneapolis airport after a family reunion with my siblings to celebrate my niece’s marriage. It was a busy, social time, and I’m very grateful for every minute. But as I sit here by myself for the first time in three days, I’m aware that my prayer time took a back seat. I don’t want to feel guilty about putting God in the background. After all, not everything can be in the foreground at the same time, and prayer needs silence and solitude in order to be on center stage.

Now that I’m home, center stage it is, on this lovely evening.

Convent of San Francesco in Fiesoli

4/27/2014

Yesterday I took Bus #7 to Fiesoli and then climbed the hill to my favorite little convent in all of Italy. I’ve blogged about it before and undoubtedly I’ll blog about it again. In fact, I plan to return there next week before I leave for home.

My favorite is section is the floor housing eight monk’s cells. I spent quite a while there, staring into the little rooms, imagining myself living in one of them. It was a Holy moment. Then, while sitting in the church, it poured rain…and then it stopped. That too was a Holy moment. Finally, peering into the tiny cloisters was also Holy. For certain this visit was the most solitary and silent time I’ve had since arriving here.

Another best Christmas ever~

12/26/2013

Written Christmas Eve.

December 24th. Family has arrived. We have eaten comfort chicken soup and apple pie. The dishes are done, presents wrapped. We have retreated to our resting places. All is calm, perhaps like it was in the stable after Jesus was born but before the arrival of the shepherds and wise men.

I have memories of many Christmases and tonight I miss family members. But I’m content with the solitude after the social time with those who could make it this year. In fact, I wonder if I’ve ever experienced such genuine Christmas solitude before? Regardless, like every year, this is turning out to be the best Christmas ever.

Off to the cottage~

11/16/2013

Tomorrow I’ll be settling in again at the cottage. For those of you who are wondering, What cottage? here’s the quick story. This is the fourth winter season that I have rented a cottage right on the ocean. It’s an hour and a half drive from my home, so I can easily go back and forth, and that is just what I do. Usually I’m at the cottage during the week and at home on the weekends.

I love the silence, solitude and simplicity there. I watch the sunrise every morning--even when it’s cloudy. Also, in no particular order, I pray, read, write, enjoy jigsaw puzzles, walk the beach, and gaze at the ocean. I check my email twice a day, morning and evening, and I don’t talk on the phone. Sometimes I cover the clocks and live a timeless day.

It is in this simple, silent life of solitude that I let go of the chatter (read judgments) in my head. Then, I can pray for others, which is why I go to there-- to pray and to be with God.

Gift of solitude~

7/25/2013

This morning as I read this meditation on solitude by Henri Nouwen, it occurred to me that I often treat solitude as a goal, and end in itself, not as a gift that leads to a greater purpose beyond me.

In solitude we can slowly unmask the illusion of our possessiveness and discover in the center of our own self that we are not what we can conquer, but what is given to us. In solitude we can listen to the voice of him who spoke to us before we could speak a word, who healed us before we could make any gesture to help, who set us free long before we could free others, and who loved us long before we could give love to anyone. It is in this solitude that we discover that being is more important than having, and that we are worth more than the result of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared. It’s there we recognize that the healing words we speak are not just our own, but are given to us; that the love we can express is part of a greater love; and that the new life we bring forth is not a property to cling to, but a gift to be received.

Thank you, Thomas Merton; from "No Man Is an Island"

2/23/2013

This morning, as I read this piece by Thomas Merton, I thought, “Ah, that is what I’ve been striving for; that is how I am feeling.” When God comes into our life, and, as the expression goes, takes over, it is a challenge to sort it all out, not to feel divided or immersed in a dualistic dance of life. This helped. See what it does for you.

A man who fears to be alone will never be anything but lonely, no matter how much he may surround himself with people. But the man who learns, in solitude and recollection, to be at peace with his own loneliness, and to prefer its reality to the illusion of merely natural companionship, comes to know the invisible companionship of God. Such a one is alone with God in all places, and he alone truly enjoys the companionship of other men, because he loves them in God, in whom their presence is not tiresome, and because of whom his own love for them can never know satiety.

Thomas Merton, in No Man Is an Island