winter

What do we do with suffering? As far as I can see, we have two choices — we either transform our suffering into something else, or we hold on to it, and eventually pass it on.

O Holy Spirit, you are the mighty way in which everything that is in the heavens, on the earth, and under the earth is penetrated with connectedness, is penetrated with possibility, so that all may be sustained by you.

Awake at night
while others sleep
I watch meteors fall

in glittering array,
inscrutable patterns.
Multiple fiery tails
each minute

brush the cold black
sky, sweep the cave
of my heart.

I cannot decipher the
hieroglyph of meteors,
except one passage
repeated, descending:

In zero g, space fragments
drift, invisible to human eyes.
But mesmerized by gravity,
meteors burst through
Earth's atmosphere and blaze
a firetrail across the sky:

What if we reframed "living with uncertainty" to "navigating mystery"? There's more energy in that phrase... But to navigate mystery is not the same thing as living with uncertainty ...Navigating mystery humbles us, reminds us with every step that we don't know everything, are not, in fact, the masters of all.

As humans we've long been forged on the anvil of mysteries: Why are we here? Why do we die? What is love? We are tuned like a cello to vibrate with such questions.

Humanity—in fact, the entire Earth community—currently exists in such dire circumstances that the most significant, viable, and potent solutions will seem like impossible dreams to most everyone (at first). But this is apparently the way it has always been in our universe. At the greatest moments of transformations—what Thomas Berry calls "moments of grace"—the "impossible" happens....

When Bob brought the ministry of the Friends of Silence Letter to his home in a wild and sacred patch of forest in the foothills of the Blue Ridge, I "met" Nan. I learned of her faith and courage when in the midst of a city in turmoil and pain (1987 Detroit) she called a contemplative community to welcome the healing power of Silence and pray for peace. The little group was open to all faiths and cultures. It grew from 40 members to thousands around the world linked in heart-prayer and by the Letter, which Nan sent monthly to her "friends of Silence".

Look to the light, burn candles for peace, huddle with loved ones, yes, even strangers, and persevere, dear friends.

~ Mary Ann, from June 2022 (Vol. XXXV, No. 6)

In this part of the world, frost crusts at the edges of minute leaves and blades of grass. The chill air illuminates each breath, making us mindful once again how crucial warmth is to sustaining life. Whether sitting in a rocker by the crackling fire of a homey hearth or huddling over a trash can fire under the freeway to fend off the cold bite of homelessness, we gather round fires because we crave the heat and light they generate. In this moment of history when so much of the world has become harsh and bitter cold, people cry out for a rekindling of the fires of love and compassion.