retreat

12/52 – Brother Mickey McGrath

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Brother Mickey McGrath is an Oblate of St. Francis de Sales.

I was fortunate to meet Brother Mickey on my very first weekend retreat at the Dominican Retreat Center I go to. There was so much that I didn’t understand or know about the whole retreat experience. I was slightly withdrawn; I knew no one. I took my meals with people, but I was still alone. Now, that I’ve gone to more events, I recognize some of the people, I’m a little more comfortable in the physical place, but things are still new. I just discovered that there is a refrigerator for the retreatants to use. I’d say it’s taken me three years to find that out.

This first retreat, though was also an art experience. I do not art. I know after following me for as long as some of you have, you wonder why I say that, but I really don’t believe I have any talent. I’m too linear. I’m too much a writer.

This retreat changed all of that.

It was titled Drawing Closer to G-d, and its focus was on mandalas. Mickey had beautiful ones. I learned some art techniques, including to color outside the lines, to draw beyond the mandala border.Art is pictures and symbols and color, but it is also words, and I really enjoy the word art that I’ve done this year, especially my political and my scriptural.

Every time Brother Mickey directs a retreat in my area, I do my best to attend. That has given me the opportunity to become friends with him, enjoying warm greetings when we see each other. I’m a bit more talkative now, and I ask questions if I have any. I add to the discussion, and I art.

And I enjoy it so much that I do it at home. I find the coloring very calming, contemplative and prayerful.

Brother Mickey was and is my inspiration for stepping out of my comfort zone, for drawing a bit and coloring a bit, and truly moving closer to G-d as well as myself.

Brother Mickey’s works are available through his website.

The Halfway Mark

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We’re a little more than halfway through Lent. I’ve mentioned before my difficulty in giving up bread. Fortunately, the additions I’ve made to my Lenten journey are working out much better than the bread. I have indeed attended the 9am daily mass unless I had a prior commitment. I’ve remained after mass on some days to join the other ladies who stay daily to pray the rosary. I read the Lenten reflection book my church provided. I’ve kept a Lenten journal, writing in it daily, and using it for notetaking on my retreats. I have also done some art projects. Once they’re completed, and I make room in my media files, I will share them here. I love the burst of creativity that the retreats give me.

Even just a two hour session once a week is enough to breathe a renewed spirit in me, and set me off on a project.

The month of March was full of spiritual opportunities. I was lucky to be able to attend a total of thirteen days of retreats or workshops. I’ve tried to go through the retreat center’s calendar, and I’m able to continue once a month through June. Just the idea that it’s available has me full of adrenaline to keep pushing.

As you can see, I also have my keyboard back, so I’m hoping to do a little catch up from last weekend, especially with my series: Emma Watson’s Book Club, The New 52 for weeks 12 and 13, and another book news. Those book news posts really help me organize my thoughts on the two books. They’re very jumbled up in my mind, I think due to the emotional level of both stories.

I was also asked last week to share my conversion story, which would mean talking to people, like an audience, and it’s not something I want to do, but I do kind of want to share it. When I talk about it, I get a lot of positive feedback, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it. However, after saying all that to the person suggesting my opening up, I did feel as though I might be able to in the future. That was definitely something that surprised me.

I can feel myself growing.

I will absolutely talk more about my church’s parish mission that occured in the early part of this week, but in short it focused on Pope Francis’ life and thoughts, which in general focus on mercy and forgiveness. I was truly blessed that i joined the church around the same time as Pope Francis’ choosing. He is a true inspiration to me, and the three days I spent immersed in his merciful ideas was really what I needed to end this half of Lent, and be able to continue down my path. Related to our parish mission, I will have a story of mercy and grace to share tomorrow.

The Best Laid Plans

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I’m on retreat this weekend. The subject is Wise and Holy Women. I had intended to make two posts or so this weekend, but G-d had other plans. When I  unpacked I  discovered that I did not have my keyboard. 

On Sunday, I  will write the twelfth week of the new 52 which was supposed to appear here today. Week 12 is a person, Brother Mickey McGrath, oblate and artist. He is our retreat director. He is wonderful and I will tell you of his influence on me over the last few years, opening my heart and creativity. 

In the meantime, follow the link in his name and look at his beautiful and spiritual art. 

Until next time, 

Blessings

A Spiritual Marathon

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​I had expected to be able to post throughout this week, but unfortunately this is probably the busiest week of Lent for me. Until next week that is. As I mentioned to my priest last night, it’s all good busy, but this morning I was beyond exhausted. I stayed in bed an extra hour until my headache subsided, and now I’m slowly getting ready for today.

As part of my Lenten journey this year, in going to the desert figuratively, and finding my own wilderness, I have taken on many spiritual projects that are dear to me. It was fortunate that my local retreat center had so many sessions and experiences to choose from.

I have been keeping a Lenten journal since Ash Wednesday, and I have been loving it. From the feel of the pen gliding across the paper to the beautiful green Celtic designed journal itself, it has given me a feeling of purpose that I will try to continue, although not daily, throughout the spring and summer, and perhaps convert it to an Advent journal later in the year. Continue reading

Ruth 1:1-18

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One of the retreats I’m on this month is a weekly group. I had done this before with New Testament Women and this session is Old Testament Women.

We pray at the beginning, and then collage from our personal reflections on the two readings, then we share our art, and read the next two for the following week using Lecto Divina. I’ve talked about Lecto Divina in the past. I had been using this technique since I began reading Scripture, but I didn’t realize it had a formal name. It was just something I did.

Today’s class was canceled due to our snowstorm, and will be held next week, but I still wanted to re-read and reflect on these two women today: Naomi and Ruth.

Ruth has always been a favorite verse of mine. I always had a connection to her for some reaosn. One thing I discovered in the reading last week was how much of a Hufflepuff she was. Loyal to her adopted family, her kindness, her friendship with her mother-in-law, even her friendship with her sister-in-law. She’s faithful. Once she married Naomi’s son, she became a permanent part of her family.

She couldn’t state it any simpler: Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge.

Her determination and loyalty really stand out, both as things I strive for, and as part of that Harry Potter house.

See? Everything is connected and interconnected.

3/8 – Pilgrimage

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​”This (Holy Year) is the opportune moment to change our lives!” the pope has said. “This is the time to allow our hearts to be touched!…May pilgrimage be an impetus to conversion.”

 – Pope Francis

 This is what Pope Francis said when he opened up this Jubilee Holy Year of Mercy. He also mentioned that a pilgrimage would be equally beneficial closer to home if a trip to Rome wasn’t possible.

That intrigued me, and I began to think about pilgrimage in a more tangible, more accessible way.

In a mere five weeks,  we are coming to the conclusion of that Extraordinary Jubilee Year.

In some ways, I have done much towards creating a better understanding of mercy – for myself and for others. I have also reflected much more on forgiveness – again, both for myself and for others.

It took me some time to initially walk through our Holy Door; to feel as though I were ready; worthy of the entrance. I didn’t want to rush through and have it be done, like a ticky box to b checked. I wanted to discern and meditate on what it meant, and perhaps that meant that I would never walk through the portal.

I’ve written before about how I did finally reach a moment to enter, and then a second moment. When our family went on a short holiday to Niagara Falls, I wanted to go to reconciliation and to enter through the Holy Door with prayer and reflection before our journey.

Niagara Falls is one of those places that I grew up visiting and loved as a child, and that I eventually shared with my husband and later with my oldest son. Now, I was going to share it with my two younger children, but I was also going to see the magnificent and powerful falls with new eyes; eyes that had been touched by G-d and by faith.

I had spent much of my year of mercy as a spiritual pilgrim, going to places that struck me as important on my journey. Sometimes that was as simple as sitting in Starbucks or outside on a bench with a cool breeze waving my hair around.

Sometimes, it was taking a week in the spring to visit some local historical places, taking my camera and my journal and discovering new things about the places, the people, and myself despite my lack of stamina.

I went to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs, wandering in the rain, praying, and just being in the stillness of such a place of faith.

I joined three ministries at church; things that I felt a calling to, in education, in adult faith formation, and in service. Time is short, but I’m working through the process of balancing it all. 

I went on two weekend and one four-week retreats that reenergized me, and my creative spirit was able to blend with my faithful spirit. It gave meaning to the Scriptures and the environment, and propelled me forward and given me strength.

My pilgrimage of writing has been equally in the forefront and as important as my spiritual pilgrimage. I am always on the path of a pilgrim, whether I write about it or not. It is who I am.

This year of mercy will remain with me much longer than the physical year.

Food

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No matter what plans you have, kids or no kids, they almost always revolve around food. Food sustains us, but it also holds so much more. Comfort food is called that for a reason. Comfort food contains the five senses within it plus a sixth: memory.

When I’m eating sweet potatoes slathered in butter – real butter, stick butter, not spreadable canola, but real, all I can think of is sitting up in my parents’ bed, sick, and this was my medicine. The sweet flesh sweeter than any candy, the soft mash letting me eat and swallow without any work or pain whatsoever. Were they sweet potatoes or yams? How was I supposed to know?! I was 11 or something. It was better than chicken soup, and less messy in bed besides. Then, drifting off to sleep with the empty plate still on my lap. Empty because the potato skin is just as yummy as the rest of it. It was the one little kid yuck that I didn’t mind; eating the potato skins long before potato skins became its own food group.

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A Mini Writing Retreat

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Never make plans. They never work out. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I planned a mini-retreat for this week. Take some time for myself to get my head on straight and my spirit centered before the kids are home for the summer. I planned for the part of the week after Memorial Day since there was only one appointment on my calendar and no school obligations after everyone went back to school and work after the Memorial Day holiday. Our house has been pretty clutter-free for the past couple of weeks, so I enjoy being there again. I mentioned to my husband last week while I was sitting in my corner office that I didn’t want to leave the house. I really liked being there. But let’s be real, if I stay home to write, I’d end up watching Supernatural or The Walking Dead reruns on Netflix. I have the rest of the month for that.

I started thinking about what I wanted to do this week and separately what I wanted to accomplish. I’d attend Mass on Tuesday and Wednesday. I’ve been missing the daily masses both by not attending and also missing them deeply. I’d start my day with G-d, leaving the house at 8:30 and planning to return by 3 when the kids came home from school. It sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?


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National Train Day

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Yesterday was National Train Day. This was a holiday created by Amtrak in 2008. Held on the Saturday. nearest May 10th it was a way for Amtrak to show the benefits of railway travel. May 10th was chosen as it’s the anniversary of the pounding of the Golden Spike in Promontory, Utah, marking the completion of the first transcontinental railroad in the United States.

Growing up in Queens and Long Island, we traveled by subway on school trips and the LIRR on visits to NYC, especially during the Christmas season. Between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, it’s kind of an amazing time to be in NYC. Rockefeller Center, Broadway, Macy’s window displays; so much and so beautiful. It’s the perfect complement to the winter wonderland on a greeting card.

I’ve traveled by commuter rails on various vacations. We’ve stayed on the outskirts and taken public transit into the cities of Toronto, Boston, Washington, DC, and of course, NYC. Those trains are a great convenience, and a great value as well.

As a kid, my family took us to Strasburg, PA to ride the railroad through Amish country. When my kids were young, we took them there also. They loved the trains. I think all kids do. My kids, especially my two boys, were big on the Thomas trains. we had a pretty large set when they were younger.

A few years ago, I took my first long distance train trip from my home in upstate New York to Williamsburg, VA. it was a little nerve-wracking with the packing, the tickets, the layover in Penn Station and all that on top of my regular anxiety. I thought it would be the same as air travel, and I packed similarly with the clear plastic bags, one personal bag, small bottles of liquids, but it was actually very different.

The one thing I was told by the friend I was visiting was to only bring what you can carry yourself. If it’s too heavy or awkward to get in and out of the car at the train station, then it’s too heavy or awkward to bring with you. you have to be able to life your bag over your head and put it in the luggage rack. There was a lower section, but you had to be one of the first onboard to git your bag in there.

One of the most noticeable differences on the train was the bigger seat and huge (by comparison) amount of leg room. The bathrooms were also larger, and didn’t make me feel self-conscious about accidentally knocking the door open while I was using it.

The windows are large enough to see the scenery. My trip seemed to follow the coast line. There was a lot of water on the side until we got past Richmond, and then it filled in with trees and greenery. At one point, we paused in a town where I think we were blocking traffic. You could see the houses lining the street of this quaint, southern village.

From my seat, I could see the Washington Monument and the Capitol Building.

It was so much less stressful than flying. It was almost like driving except I could sleep part of the way. It was quiet for the most part. Sometimes, you could eavesdrop on someone’s conversation and that was entertainment enough. There was working WiFi so I was pretty well set, not to mention my journal writing and note-taking for future trips as well as for travel posts. Like this one.

On a recent retreat that I put together for myself, I started my week at our local Amtrak station. I wasn’t going anywhere, but I had my messenger bag, my kindle, my Father James Martin Together on Retreat book, and my camera. It gave me the illusion of traveling without actually leaving town. It was symbolic for the start of my do-it-myself retreat. I think I will use that technique again this year when the time comes for me to look inward.

The trains give me that solitude without being alone; without the loneliness or aloneness. It’s the opportunity to be by yourself without being by yourself. It’s like a nightlight in a darkened room. It’s a candle in the night.

And with that last cliche, the last train has left the station. Tell me your train stories in the comments below.

Reflection on the Art

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The third week came faster than I expected. I was running late, flustered, settling my crap, grabbing my tea, dropping my keys, but once I sat in the circle it all went away.

Calmness overtook everything.

Despite my backache and my knee being difficult, I sunk into the chair, and all that was there from that moment on was the group of women and the Gospel women from our readings.

I am loving the collages. I didn’t even realize that I focused on the woman who anoints Jesus until I started talking about my design and the addition of the tea.

Since I’ve done two collages already with the reddish-brown board, so I’ve already decided to use the same board for my third and final art thingy.

I can kind of envision them set up 1-2-3 in a row in my office. I do need to redo. my mantle so these may fit in with that opportunity.

In looking at the two side by side, I am already planning some aspects of next week’s art.

The readings are Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38-42) and the Women at the Foot of the Cross (John 19:25-30). My mind has already gone to the women at the cross. The women are always present. The disciples are in hiding but not the women. Part of that reaon is that women are invisible. They are not thought of as a threat or of any kind of importance and so they are ignored.

More importantly, though, they are witnessed. They are the ones to tell the story; the history of the Christ. His Mother Mary gave him life, and Mary Magdalene was the first to see him after the Resurrection and was the one to carry the story to the disciples.

They are the storytellers, like I am with my writing.

It hit me while I was eating lunch after the third week’s group that my boards are connected through my writing and the last reading – the women at the cross – the storytellers are the beginnings of writing – the oral storytellers that pass it down for generations until someone finally wrote it down.

In addition to the reddish board, I’m thinking of using the yellow ribbon, a feather to make a quill and possibly another black and yellow butterfly wing to tie all three boards together.

I will definitely share it next week after our last session.

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