The image that most of us conjure when we think of God becoming human is a newborn lying in a manger with Mary and Joseph smiling from ear to ear. The scene evokes warm feelings of nostalgia and motherhood and wonder. Most people today don’t give much thought about the mechanics or the theology behind …
But just like in Narnia where it wasn’t good for it to always be Winter and never Christmas. It’s also important to realize that it’s not good for it to always be Summer and never football. We need Winter. We need a time of doing with less.
How we are breathing in any given moment says a lot about our emotional and spiritual health, which can potentially affect our physical health as well. How are you breathing?
We live in a society that tends to view isolation in a negative way. But the contemplatives teach us that it’s something we should seek on a regular basis as a necessary part of a healthy emotional and spiritual life. For it is here where we connect with ourselves and the divine.
I don’t know about you, but every day seems like Friday, lately. And I keep waking and hoping that at least Saturday rolls around; but no, it’s Friday again. It’s like living the movie Groundhog Day, only written and directed by Stephen King.
Feeling a little scared and overwhelmed? Me too. In this post I offer a little comfort.
The lines in our hands may not reliably reveal our future, but the cracks in our face tell of our past. In this post I reflect on how wrinkles can be a good thing.
Think about that for a moment. The unconscious heaving of your chest right now had its beginning with the breath God. And when it was expelled from his throat a long time ago, life exploded into the universe. In other words, the simple act of breathing is powerful stuff. And it demands that we do something with it. Something extraordinary.
The more I can let go of attaching baggage to every little thing that happens, the more I can be set free to allow a day to be what it really is…a gift.
In Ireland, there is a place outside Dublin called Glendalaugh where I regularly experience a thin place. Tradition has it that Saint Kevin settled there in a cave in the sixth century. It overlooks a lake as black as a moonless and starless night. A forest surrounds it, with ancient trees covered in moss and dark green leaves. Early in the morning a mist hovers above ground, like out of a fairy tale. It’s no wonder that Kevin chose this place for his home.