Tag: poetry

Epiphany Moments

Traditionally, January 6 marks the Feast of “Epiphany,” when three kings, or Magi, arrived in Bethlehem and paid homage to the Christ child with their mysterious gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  The word “epiphany” means a “sudden manifestation of the divine in the ordinary” and has grown in popularity these days to mean a sudden realization or enlightenment. It’s like a flash of mystical insight when there is no doubt, even for a few seconds, that a loving God exists. Obviously, these moments are fleeting. As soon as an epiphany happens, the flash is gone like a sunset and no amount of alchemy can conjure it up again.

I have had many epiphany moments in my life, some bigger than others. Most of the time, these flashes of insight are so subtle, they disappear into the mist of forgotten memories. This past year, in aid of my aging monkey mind, I kept track of epiphanies using quotes from books, friends, and other notable sources, in a special log called a “commonplace book.”  Re-reading these entries has been most epiphanous! (I think I just made up a word!) Anyway, I highly recommend this process.

Here are some of the quotes that have resonated, inspired, and enlightened:

  • Every sadness brings its own recompense.
  • After relief comes grief.
  • Ask for what you want, then notice what happens.
  • If we can lean on each other, we can bear anything, anything at all.
  • You will feel love when the sun shines on your face.
  • Believe what you love.
  • Theopoetics is the language of religion.
  • Keep moving.
  • Without mythology, you have pathology.
  • Joy is resistance.
  • Christianity is not a rational religion. It is a logic of love and love has its own logic.
  • We’re all born with the greatest treasures we’ll ever have in life.
  • You will die with a broken heart. That’s what lovers do.
  • The aging process turns us all into monks and that, indeed, is its plan.
  • It’s a huge mistake to read the signs of aging as indications of dying rather than as initiations into another way of life.
  • When you are a writer, all that matters is the story within.
  • I’m not going back.
  • I’m not going to give up.

May you be open to the many splendid epiphanies all around you.

Soul Collage on the Seventh and Eighth Days of Christmas

For over a decade, every December 31st morning, I have entered into a reflective prayer process called “Soul Collage.” For several hours, sometimes alone and sometimes with a group, I sit down with print images that I have collected and create an icon of my inner state. This year, two days are devoted to this creative endeavor. Engrossing and contemplative, the process taps my right brain to record and chronicle the soul’s quest for meaning.

I began making collages out of magazine photos when I was very young, and used the finished products as greeting cards, journal entries, and scrapbook pages. Resources were tight in those days and this was an inexpensive way to express myself. Many years later, after having completed the certification for the Art of Spiritual Direction, I was thoroughly delighted to meet Seena Frost, author of Soul Collage: Evolving an Intuitive Collage Process For Self-Discovery and Community, who introduced me to an expansive way to collage for spiritual growth. Since then, I have facilitated the creation of these unique soul expressions on retreats and small group gatherings. The group process doubles the pleasure and galvanizes the creative process, especially on New Year’s Eve, a perfect time to reflect.

This year, the subject of my soul collages is “The Mystic’s Journey” because I am presently guiding a study group on mystical theology. It is a work in progress as I play with the many photos collected over the past few months. Look carefully–there are over twenty images incorporated into these collages and I am not yet finished. More ideas are rising to the surface by the minute and I am riding on the wings of the Spirit into this new year!

I wish you every happiness! May your souls soar into 2025 with hope, resolve, and a tidal wave of love.

Calm and Bright on the Second Day of Christmas

“All is calm, all is bright. . .”

I love the Christmas carol “Silent Night.” Granted, I am more sentimental than most, but the words really get to me and tears often moisturize my dry skin when I hear “all is calm, all is bright” softly sung.  What would it be like to luxuriate in bright calmness all the time? Is that the meaning of “heaven” or “enlightenment”?

Lately, I have been guiding a study group on the theology of mysticism. The discussion of paradox has both enlightened and perplexed us. Mystics write about how darkness is full of bright light and the highest form of knowledge is “unknowing.” Death leads to new life, turmoil purgates and liberates, and renunciation of possessions equals untold spiritual wealth where all is calm, all is bright. Examples abound in the Scriptures of all world religions.

Perhaps this explains why the Nativity story captivates us. For centuries, folks from all cultures, ethnicities, economic and educational backgrounds, have gazed at manger scenes and pondered the mystery of a calm and bright night in a stable in Bethlehem. “The story never grows old,” wrote Carl Sandburg. Indeed.  When we get humble and childlike enough, we fall in love with the humility of our God who wanted to know firsthand what it was like to be human. “God is a foolish lover,” wrote one of the mystics.

Today, I begin a pilgrimage to visit Nativity scenes in nearby churches. My mother did this with us when we were kids. “Let’s pay a visit,” she suggested in the days after Christmas, as if we were dropping in for tea at my aunt’s house. Off we went into snowy afternoons whether we wanted to or not. I remember returning home feeling calmer and brighter. With “Silent Night”  playing through my Airpods while gazing at the Nativity scenes, I hope to sink into that wonderment again.