Given that the main focus of my life (studying & writing) involves sedentary tasks, I have made myself a promise to get moving everyday. Sometimes this involves going to the gym where I move on the elliptical machine with music in my ears (of my own choosing, not the gym music mix!). Other times like today this means a brisk walk in the neighborhood.
I have chosen the neighborhood walk most non rainy days this fall, because of the colors!
This is my third autumn in Chicago, and while I will be lamenting the bare branches and lack of anything green soon enough, the fall colors are lovely! They also serve as added motivation for me to get outside and get moving.
Periodically on Fridays I will share some words of wisdom from the founder of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. Known in religion as Mother Francis Clare, Margaret Anna Cusack was a prolific writer in her day. Happily, thanks to public domain and the many internet book projects, much of her writing is now available online. She was a woman of her time and yet, ahead of her time in many ways.
“We are, then, put face to face with the great fact of Poverty, we are put face to face with the certain consequences of the continuance of such a condition of things, and if we have one spark of humanity we are put face to face with the question, What can we do personally and individually to lessen poverty, if we cannot abolish it?”
~The Question of Today: Anti-Poverty & Progress (1887) by M.F. Cusack
For about ten years I blogged about my discernment into and first years of religious life at a little virtual spot called Musings of a Discerning Woman. I originally started the blog because I had found the sharing of other people’s experiences and journeys helpful in navigating and discerning my own. As it happens, I then fell in love with the medium and discovered that I am a writer at heart!
Discernment, I have discovered, never ends. Whether it’s the big things … like the communal and personal discernment I engaged in with my community this year around being called to the ministry of congregation leadership … or the small(er) things, like how to live a good and virtuous life in the everyday choices we make, discernment is part and parcel of being a human, if we are paying attention that is.
Well, tonight I am going to have a chance to share some of my own experience and journeys of discernment in a live format, which hopefully will prove helpful to those who participate in the Discernment Chat taking place at 6PM Pacific/8PM Central/9PM Eastern at A Nun’s Life. My friend Sister Julie Vieira, IHM started blogging at A Nun’s Life about the same time I started my original blog. She of course has turned A Nun’s Life into an incredible interactive ministry for discerners and spiritual seekers. I was honored to be invited to join in the conversation tonight as their “guest nun.”
It will be a welcome and good break from thesis writing!
My life these days is mostly consumed with what is right before me–writing my thesis and preparing for my oral comprehensive exams. So, while this week is technically “reading week” at Catholic Theological Union, every week has been reading (and writing) week for me since I came back from our congregation chapter almost a month ago. I’m hoping to get to the halfway point of my thesis today or maybe tomorrow (God willing!), which helps me to realize that what is ahead of me is doable and I just need to focus.
But focus I’m realizing also requires breaks for perspective. And so I took the train to Wisconsin this weekend to visit a younger Catholic Sister friend. There was no substantive reading and no writing this weekend. Just visiting, laughing, exploring, and relaxing which I think I really needed. Breaks are important. They ground us in reality, help us touch back into the wider world and see beyond the tunnel vision we can develop when we’re focused solely on what is ahead. I guess you could say that breaks are a way of getting practice using our peripheral vision.
While I have plenty to be about in my immediate future, given that I am working to finish my degree requirements before Christmas, I also find myself skipping ahead to the adventures that start in January. But a funny thing happens when I do that, or at least a funny (and somewhat painful) thing has happened twice in the past month. I fall. No major bones broken, just some minor scrapes and bruises that I have acquired while thinking far ahead into the future instead of paying attention to where I am walking. My subconscious does this to me sometimes (or maybe it’s the universe or even an experience of God’s sense of humor). In any case, I wonder if it’s not a way of keeping me real.
For example, I remember when I was preparing to profess vows I fell not once, not twice, but three times in the weeks before, in a very similar fashion–walking while worrying about the far off future instead of paying attention to what lies directly ahead. What’s funny is that this last incident literally occurred just as I was arriving home and getting ready to cross the street with my suitcase to my building. Here I was, physically transitioning from my mini-relaxing-weekend-break to the work of research and writing, but my mind was even farther down the line. So my body protested, bringing my focus and attention back to the present moment. I could do without scraped knees and bruised elbows, but I’m also happy to be present in this moment. I just hope that maybe I’ve learned what I’ve needed to learn and can avoid a third fall?
For the past few months I have been a monthly contributor to the Horizons Column at Global Sisters Report, dedicated to the reflections of younger Catholic Sisters. My latest column was just posted. It’s not the column I was planning to write this month, but it is the one that kept coming to my heart and that my fingers wanted to type. I generally find that in such cases, what I am writing needs to be said and shared. Here’s a snippet:
I recently found myself playfully adapting the opening line from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice: “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
Thinking about, and praying for, some younger Catholic sister friends who are grieving the loss of dear wisdom women in their religious communities, I repurposed the quote in my mind and heart: “It is a truth increasingly acknowledged, that a younger Catholic sister blessed with friendship in community, must be in want of religious life age peers.” …
Increasingly, my experience of religious life friendship – both intergenerationally in community and with religious life age peers – has confirmed my belief that engaging in play together makes us better able to grieve and live into the unknown future of religious life.
Today’s first reading starts with what is perhaps the best line ever. .. “O stupid Galatians.” Followed by a whole lot of, “Don’t you get it?” (Galatians 3:1-5).
Well, no, we don’t really get it, or sometimes it seems. I spent this morning reading and praying with the news of the day. War. Inaction in the face of economic disparity and rampant disease. With a dash of fascination with polite protestors.
Then, if I am honest, I have to ask myself, do I get it? Or should the scripture read, “O stupid Susan”? Sometime my friends, sometimes.
After praying with the news over my cup of tea, I decided to go for a walk to the new-to-me Japanese garden I discovered last week before heading to the library.
I found myself in the company of graceful geese, swimming in the water … and then … taking flight!
And that it seems is the call. Clear as the call of the geese over head, honking. I remember reading years ago that one image of the Holy Spirit from Celtic spirituality is the honking goose. I usually think of that as the Spirit annoying me into action!
But this morning, I understood it in a different way. The geese I saw this morning, gently swimming in the pond, knew when it was time to take flight, to be about their purpose. The Spirit is not about staying still in safe calm waters. It is about movement and taking flight.
So is the world a mess? Yes. Can we fix it? Not alone. But maybe, just maybe, inspired and nourished by the love of God we can move forward together, take flight, and see what happens.
I’m bringing another bloggy tradition to the new blog … video prayer reflections. I discovered a few years ago that selecting pictures and putting them to music in a video is a very creative prayer form for me … one that I usually end up doing late a night! The finished products are also great for contemplation and reflection. I return to them myself from time to time, and share them on my YouTube Channel and the blog.
Here’s the latest addition to the collection. This video prayer reflection is set to “Come be in my heart,” a beautiful song by Sara Thomsen I first heard at our Congregation Chapter last month.
Anxiety. It’s not imaginary. It’s not soft and cuddly. It is real. Certainly anxiety has been a part of my own life for as long as I can remember. My mother used to talk about my ‘anxiety bunnies.’ Therapy, prayer, and just being gentle over the years has helped me to befriend my anxiety and learn how to deal with it without it dealing too much with me, if you now what I mean.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved that anxiety has a part to play in my own Congregation’s story. In 1884, at the profession of vows of the first Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, Bishop Edward Gilpin Bagshawe said this:
“To secure this divine peace for ourselves and procure its blessing for others in the midst of the sin, turmoil, and restless anxiety of this modern world is the object of your institute.”
As a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace, then, my object is to be present to the restless anxiety of the world (and in myself) in ways that bring peace.
Today as I was walking home from church through city streets aglow with the splendor of autumn, I found myself reflecting on today’s second reading from Philippians (4: 6-9).
Brothers and sisters: Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me. Then the God of peace will be with you.
First of all, my dear friend Paul needs to realize that as much as we might wish to brush our anxiety bunnies under the rug, they will pop back up from time to time. We will have anxiety. I will (and do) have anxiety. But he has a point that rings true with my own experience.
The path to peace in the midst of the restless anxiety of our world (and our own hearts) is to bring that anxiety to God. To bring our prayers and concerns and wonderings to our God who of course already knows all about them, but there is something good and intimate and honest about laying it all before our loving God.
And so having placed our anxieties before God, we can let them rest there and focus instead on whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, and excellent.
Whatever is lovely … so much is lovely, as my autumn walk this morning showed me in abundance. Does that make all the yucky or complicated or worrisome stuff of life go away? No. But it brings some peace that helps us to be more authentic and our best selves as we face what we have to face in life.
Or so it seemed to me this morning on my autumn walk.
May the God of Peace be with you all, and may whatever lovely things you come across on your path today touch your heart and stop you in your tracks, if just for a moment.
I have lived in Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood for over two years now. And yet, somehow, I never managed to discover the hidden gem of the Osaka Garden in Jackson Park until today!
Normally when I go for a walk, I walk to Lake Michigan. Today was a bit cooler, overcast, with a drizzle or two, so I decided to go walk among the trees in Jackson Park. That, my friends, is when I discovered this:
Osaka garden at Jackson Park
It’s not the biggest Japanese style garden in the world. It is certainly much smaller than the Portland or Seattle Japanese gardens, and not quite as technically classical in style (from my limited knowledge as a former member of the Portland gardens). Neverthless, it is a gem. Lovely, peaceful, and historic, given that the first Japanese garden was established in the park when it was the sight of the 1893 World’s Fair!
And it’s free to visit. So, after my discovery, I stayed for a while to meditate. After all, in my opinion that is the best thing to do in a Japanese garden. After a while, I got up to leave, and guess who I saw?
Look under the bridge
Do you see my feathered friend? Here is a closer shot:
The perfect spot! And photo!
Amazing, huh? If I had asked my feathered friend to pose for a photo, it could not have been better. Wow.
All in all, it was a beautiful, prayerful morning walk. And guess what? It’s less than a mile from my house. Has been the whole time I’ve lived here, but now I know!
Museum of Science & Industry in the background, with my neighborhood behind that.
Who knows what you might discover in your neighborhood?
I am bringing a tradition from my old blog to this new one … Margaret Anna Fridays. Periodically on Fridays I will share some words of wisdom from the founder of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. Known in religion as Mother Francis Clare, Margaret Anna Cusack was a prolific writer in her day. Happily, thanks to public domain and the many internet book projects, much of her writing is now available online.
The love of St. Francis for his neighbour. Whoever could have penetrated into the heart of Francis of Assisi, would have found there a happy combination of charity and tenderness for his neighbour. … He could not even see a poor person without the tenderest pity. ….
And you, O great saint, whose compassionate bounty I implore, obtain for me a heart not with the prejudice of self-love, but with the sweet bond which unites me to him by the profession of Christianity, and by the life and doctrine of the Saviour.
At the Corner of Susan and St. Joseph 