When anger or anxiety
holds us in its
tight and shaking
grip, its hard to
turn aside and dive straight down to
where clarity
resides. But, if
we do, we can
find our way to what is both true
and kind and let
that be our guide
when we return.
JDG
A Matter of Technique
“I wonder what she’s gone and done?”
the older sister
said, noting an
unusual
burst of helpfulness on the part
of the younger
one. “Why?” I asked
and she replied,
“It’s an age-old kids’ technique
to soften you
up for the bad
news soon to come.”
JDG
Birds’ Aye View
They flew in, these birds of varied
hues, and gathered
in the holly
tree to eat their
fill. Undisturbed by passers-by
or hangers-on,
they simply sat
and fed. They saw
no need to eat only with their
kind, nor to hoard
or stash. Their ayes were
bigger than that.
JDG
At Seventy
Like May Sarton, at seventy
I can say,”Now
I become myself,”
but becoming
myself has not been something I
have done alone.
Friends and family,
and even those
who have not meant me well, all have
helped shape the me
I have become.
Sometimes that me
seems a thing of beauty; other
times a mismatched
assembly of
ill-chosen strands.
I give thanks for all who love the
whole cloth of me
and help me love
what I’ve become.
JDG
A Shared Reflection
In this season of growing darkness, I wanted to share with you the advent reflection that my friend, Susan Wilkes, wrote for St. Stephen’s Church.
Advent Reflection
“Be sure to stand in the fire pit,” my friend, Bob, told me as I was leaving for a pilgrimage to Kildare, the site of Celtic Saint Bridgid’s monastery. Bob had felt a palpable and inexplicable energy when standing in the foundations of Brigid’s ancient fire pit on the Cathedral grounds and wondered if I would feel it too. When I visited, I found the imagery of Brigid’s light everywhere, from the torch in Towne Center to the sculpture at the sacred well of Brigid holding a flame, to the name of the spiritual community there – Solas Bhride, or Brigid’s Light. Standing in the fire pit, I too felt a strong, elemental sense of the divine presence, perhaps because of the devotion of those who maintained the blaze for many centuries and of those who today seek to rekindle the flame.
One of the many legends about Brigid is that she was present at Christ’s birth and, in fact, lit the way with her torch for Mary and Joseph, as the weary travelers entered Bethlehem. Given that she lived in the 5th century, we modern sceptics might dismiss the story as Celtic myth or find our fact-seeking-meters quickly swinging to “mostly false.” But I’m reminded of the saying, “just because it didn’t happen doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
Thinking of the story of Brigid lighting the way as a metaphor, sets me to wondering what she has to teach us about this season before Jesus’ birth. How might we light the way for the in-breaking of the Sacred into our world still today? What does our devotion to tending the eternal flame look like? Do we know that we too carry a torch capable of bringing Light to even the darkest places? If we believe this ancient story is still happening now, what might we do this Advent?
One of my favorite Mary Oliver poems begins with Buddha’s instructions right before he died, to “Make of yourself a light.” The poet is emphasizing how “he might have said anything, knowing it was his final hour” and how through his words she finds herself transformed, “like a million flowers on fire.” The Christian scriptures also give us words about being or shining a light and invite each of us to become more and more of a manifestation of God’s luminous presence. As we light our Advent candles this year, perhaps we each can reflect on how we ourselves are called in ongoing ways, in the ordinary circumstances of our lives, to illuminate the way for God’s birth into our world.
Susan Wilkes
Not Always
It’s not always darkest before
the dawn. Just last
night, the dark came
early and spread
its thick blanket over house
and land. But, soon
the moon peeled back
the dark. Tossing
silver light on frost-covered ground,
the bright, full moon
happily stayed
to greet the day.
JDG
Only A Sad Song
There are times when only a sad
song suits the soul,
when the longing
is for something
slow and soft and soothing – something
that simply lets
us be. During
those times when even
two’s a crowd, sad songs make space for
sitting shiva
with tears and the
warm flow of grace.
JDG
A Matter Of Breath
Breathing in the worry, breathing
in the hurry,
we pause, then breathe
out spaciousness,
its much needed antidote. This
ancient practice
of tonglen helps
still our modern
minds. Cradled in its wise old arms,
we can relax, set
free, at last, from
the press of time.
JDG
Simple Strands
Watching one woman reach out to
help another,
I thought of how
friendship’s cloth is
woven out of such simple strands
as seeing and
being seen. In
times of pain, in
times of joy, in times of mundane
dailiness, strands
of seeing make
enduring cloth.
JDG
When All Is Said
When all is said and we’re undone,
how do we re-
assemble? A
mindful pause
can help us move past all the squawk
of argument
and find the ground
that holds us all.
In that safe and solid place, all
the “re’s” begin:
rethink, restart,
rebuild, restore.
JDG
