4th Day of Christmas

Just when I'm starting to feel all warm and cuddly with the Baby Jesus in his manger, here comes the 4th day of Christmas and the Feast of the Holy Innocents to truly put a "harsh" on my Christmas "mellow."

If you recall this horrific tale, Herod slaughters all baby boys under 2 in his vile effort to kill this new king that the Wise Men were seeking. Jesus is born and blood is shed. Innocent blood....Baby blood. I don't like it and I doubt that I'm supposed to just turn the page to the next more "pleasant" bible story - so I'll act like Mary and ponder this one for a bit.

What were her thoughts when she heard about all those other mothers and fathers whose children were murdered because of her son? Was she overcome with fear? Or was she able to hold on to the "Fear Not" message of the angel Gabriel? Did she wonder if her own child would die at some point? I don't know....but this I do know:

1) Jesus changed everything but not in the cuddly cozy way that I like to picture. The light arrived and the darkness fought back. 2)Seeking Jesus proved to be very dangerous for the Magi and deadly for many who have sought him since then.  3) This world is filled with power-hungry Herods. They are countless. So long sweet baby Jesus. Hello the reality of the sin of the world. And 4) It is through his life and death that the darkness is overcome.  Alleluia!

As for the photo....There are so many disturbing artistic depictions of the slaughter of the innocents that I instead chose to share this picture I took of the Angel of Harmony. She sits in Thanksgiving Square on the Belfast waterfront, holding a ring of thanksgiving, with her feet on the globe.

While there I could not stop thinking of the many innocents killed in this small corner of the world.  Let us remember to pray for all children around this world today who are suffering at the hands of yet another Herod.

Saint Leontia, Part II

Now...where were we in the story? Oh yes, we entered the dark room behind the chapel. Sister Tarcisius flipped on the light switch and Yikes! We were face to face with the holy relics of Saint Leontia, an obscure 6th century martyr. What are "relics"? According to Wikipedia the word "relic" comes from the Latin "reliquiae" which means "remains." Relics were common in many faith traditions but I'm going to concentrate on photos from the Christian tradition. 

Now, as I mentioned in Part I, we were not allowed to take any pictures so I can't show Saint Leontia to you. But I can give you an idea of what holy relics look like.

WARNING: THIS IS NOT FOR THE WEAK OF HEART OR STOMACH...

This type of ancient tomb looks very lifelike or actually, very deathlike?

while this type of relic is in the shape of a statue. 

Leontia looked like a sleeping saint statue.

This is what Sally usually looks like:

but this is what she looked like after seeing Saint Leontia's tomb:

oh my!  and then she turned to me and whispered:

"And you think Buddhists are weird?"

When Terry saw the single kneeler that was placed in front of the um...tomb...he asked Sr. Tarcisius if she and the other sisters prayed to this young martyr. Looking a bit put out she pointed above Leontia and replied, "Ach, Of course not Father! Sure we're prayin' to the Sacred Heart of Jesus" (a statue which is perched on the wall above the "coffin").

I asked how long Saint Leontia had been there and Sister answered "I think she came with the place."  Poor thing. Lying there all those years in the dark. I wonder if she had originally been in the main chapel and then was just put in the back room one day during a good chapel clean out and was never returned to her place of honor? I'm sure she was glad for our company that day. Still,  we were relieved when Sister Tarcisius turned the light off and we exited stage left!

From there we returned to the parlor where Sr. Tarcisius graced us with a fabulous afternoon tea.  It's amazing how much of an appetite you can acquire just by looking at relics!  We were probably at the convent for close to three hours.  A delightful time was had by all :)

When I returned home I started looking online for any and all info on Saint Leontia. There isn't much out there except for a truly awful poem that Terry discovered and directed my way. From it we learn that she was 20, from Rome, and that there is a vial of her martyr's blood in the tomb (which sounds like something from "Twilight".)  Here is the poem:

From The Irish Monthly, Vol. 9, by Matthew Russell

"LEONTIA was a Roman girl who felt life's early glow

Thrill through her gay and guileless heart, long centuries ago:

A Christian child, although she lived in gloomy pagan years—

Soon taken from a world whose smiles are sadder than its tears.

For, ere her twentieth summer shone, that gentle hero-maid

Endured a martyr's death for Christ, and at her tomb they laid

A phial of her pure young blood, to show for Christ she died;
And still it lieth near her bones—but not on Tiber's side.

Far from the sacred catacombs that stretch 'neath holy Rome,

The relics of our fair young Saint have found a northern home

Where high the convent of St. Clare from its green hill looks down

Upon the busy quays and streets of Newry's ancient town.

Beneath the altar they repose, and here the faithful come

To venerate the sainted maid whose dateless martyrdom
Was almost milder as it passed, and sped more swiftly o'er,

Than the martyr-life of these Poor Clares who pray her shrine before.

Thus has Leontia grown most dear to many an Irish breast,

And many a fervent prayer to her is, not in vain, addressed;

And Ulster mothers give their babes Leontia's classic name,
And novices as patroness the virgin-martyr claim.

Not ours, alas! to shed our blood for Christ the Saviour's sake,

Like thee, Leontia. But our Lord will deign from us to take

The lighter hardship, longer borne, of a true Christian life—-

Help us, sweet Saint, to fight that fight and conquer in the strife. "

(I told you it was awful!)

BUT... according to this blog, St. Leontia is buried in Trastevere, Rome. If that is the case, then who is residing in the glass case at the convent in Newry?  This picture of Saint Leontia is from that blog and the young saint in that glass tomb does not look anything like the young woman we saw.   Have I succeeded in completely creeping you out yet? 

                            

Saint Leontia, Part I

After the SDI conference, I drove with Sally and her friend Father Terry Moran, to Newry, Northern Ireland. Terry, who resides in New Jersey, had an appointment with a certain Sister Tarcisius of the Poor Clares Convent.

Terry is writing a book on Sister Margaret Anna Cusack (M.A.C.), known as The Nun of Kenmare. She spent the earlier part of her life in this particular convent and Terry wanted to see if the grave of Mother O'Hagan, who had received M.A.C. into the community and eventually traveled with her to found another convent in Kenmare, was perhaps buried there. She was not but we discovered another poor soul who has spent centuries in a glass coffin, tucked away in the recesses of the room behind the main chapel. More about her later!

Meeting Terry was great. He serves on the board of SDI as does Sally and they've known each other for a few years. Terry has made over 20 trips to Ireland and he has the gift of not just learning about the people and the places that he visits but he remembers what he has learned. This makes him a magnificent storyteller. It is this aspect of traveling alone that reaps the most rewards - the aspect of meeting fabulous people - and Father Terrence Moran is one of those.

If I was disappointed with the "new face" of Ireland, well, let's just say that after we entered the Poor Clares Convent we instantly traveled back in time about 60 years! It was a delightful place to visit - but I'm not sure I'd want to live in such an old, drafty antique.

We were ushered into a small and dimly lit vestibule which was furnished with several chairs and a decidedly crooked table that was covered with various reading materials from several decades past plus a few holy medals and a small crucifix. A small handwritten sign said " Please take one"....so I did - I pocketed the crucifix as I already knew that this was going to be a memorable place.

Moments later Sister Tarcisius arrived and graciously ushered us into the parlor - which was freezing cold. She flipped the switch on the fireplace and we settled in as close as we could to the only source of heat for a short chat about Father Terry's business. "And sure, Father, why would you want to be writin' a book about Sister Cusack?" asked Sr. Tarcisius. It became readily apparent to all of us that dear Sr. Tarcisius was probably not a big fan of M.A.C. :)

When Terry gave his articulate response regarding the amazing accomplishments of "The Nun of Kenmare", and about how ahead of her time she was in writing the first biography of St. Francis in English, our hostess responded with "Ah well, Father, I'm not that much of a reader." I doubt our new friend will be pre-ordering a copy of Terry's book :)

"If three of us travel together, I shall find two teachers."  - Confucius

these are my two teachers - Sally and Terry

From there we started a tour of the grounds and the convent.  The only word I can use to describe this is "otherworldly".  This picture that I took of Sally and Terry at  the front of the convent is deceiving. It's plain facade hides a myriad of hallways, courtyards, gardens and graveyards. We were not allowed to take photos and my index finger was twitching for most of our tour of the convent but Sally kept reminding me to "behave." So I searched the internet for photos of our hostess, Sister Tarcisius and the convent itself to give you the feel of the place. These photos do not do either the convent or Sr. Tarcisius justice, but they will have to do.

this is what lies behind that pale yellow wall you saw above -

i did not take this picture but found it online.

an unflattering picture of Sr. Tarcisius but it was

the only one i could find - she is the first nun

on the left.  They are breaking ground on their new convent.

This plaque was on the outside of the convent. So this was the site

 of the former "Pope's Head Inn" - hmmm.  probably not a Catholic pub?

After touring the beautiful grounds and examining the inner recesses of a crypt to look for the remains of Mother O'Hagan,  our guide took us into the chapel.  The nuns used gothic

bench seating similar to these (but with taller backs) for their private devotions & I felt like an intruder as I gently touched their prayer books placed on these chairs, waiting for their owner's return.

All was well until we left the chapel through a back door and Sr. Tarcisius turned the small overhead light on. We were not prepared for what we saw!

to be continued.... 

Giant's Ring

Pictures can be so deceiving.  Here I am standing at the center of the Giant's Ring - a neolithic burial site outside of Belfast, that dates from perhaps 3000 B.C.  There is something about touching stones from so long ago that intrigues me no end.....And since I left my helicopter at home the next aerial photo shows you where I am in the ring...can you see the rocks in the middle?

Sometimes we view our problems as filling up the entire lens of our perceptions....but when we view the "bigger picture" we can hardly find them....is there something that is filling your lens today that might look better from a different perspective?

God's Path is not Our Path

"God travels wonderful paths

with human beings;

God does not arrange matters

to suit our opinions and views,

does not follow the path

that humans would like to prescribe for God.

God's path is free and original

beyond our ability

to understand or to prove."

- D. Bonhoeffer

 

this photo is looking back towards the road

as we journeyed into Ballynoe.  That wee

speck of light in the distance is sometimes

all one can see of one's path in life.

Struell Wells

Sally took Terry and I to visit some ancient Celtic sites in County Down.  One of them was Struell Wells, which dates from before the time of Saint Patrick. Claims have been made that dear Patrick not only came to bless the holy wells but also to  bathe in them & would spend a great deal of the night standing  in the water singing the psalms.  He must have been quite the hardy soul as I lost feeling in my fingers  just posing for this picture!

People came from far and wide but the most documented visists occurred from the 16th to the 19th century, as pilgrims would travel to the wells to bathe in hopes of finding a cure for their maladies. 

According to Terry, (who knows his Celtic history) some of the pilgrims became a bit "boisterous" and there was too much "fraternizing" happening between the men and the women in the bath houses so the pilgrimages were eventually shut down!  (The bath houses are quite close to each other and I think they were probably all  just trying to keep warm :) 

Did I mention how cold the water was?

Praying Flowers

"All creation teaches us

some way of prayer."

-Thomas Merton

This photo was taken from inside the Shrine Room

at Jampa Ling.  The flowers were pressing against the

window in such a way as to say, "Let us in!"

More Jampa Ling

The Aims of the Retreat Centre include:

1) To preserve the Tibetan Buddhist tradition and culture through teaching meditation and Dharma practice.

2) To assist in the re-establishment of monasteries in Tibet.

3) To work for the re-establishment of Buddhism in Mongolia and relieve the difficulties of the Mongolian people.
4) To promote inter-faith dialogue at a deep spiritual level in the context of the work for peace in this island.
5) To support Tibetan refugees and their monasteries in India.
6) To work for peaceful co-existence between all living beings.
7) To encourage conservation of earth’s natural resources and to develop an awareness of the interdependence of existence.

Through the establishment of Asral NGO in 2001("asral"  means "compassion" in Mongolian) Ven. Panchen Otrul Rinpoche aims to prevent the disintegration of families through establishing means of educating children who live in dire poverty.  Click here to learn more about the work being done in Mongolia.

This is a photo of the mantle taken in the Shrine Room

Another view of the Shrine Room.

One can't feel anything but "happy" in this room.  The vivid colors create an atmosphere of vitality and growth.  I was delighted to see the basket of peat sitting next to the stove. This is the only peat fire that I experienced on this trip.

Here we all are! Sally, Me, Ven. Panchen Otrul Rinpoche, Ven. Margery Cross, and Father Terrence Moran, C.SS.R. (This is the first time I've been able to say that I've had the most hair of anyone in a group photo:)

Jampa Ling

Front Door of the

Jampa Ling Buddhist Retreat Centre

Owendoon House, Bawnboy,

Co. Caven, Republic of Ireland

I love red doors - I have one on my home, as does St. Paul's, and so I had to take a picture of this one at the Tibetan Buddhist Centre which was established under the guidance and spiritual direction of Panchen Otrul Rinpoche in 1990.  We traveled across five Irish counties to visit Sally's most sacred space, and it was an experience filled with beauty and delight.

Jampa Ling is Tibetan for "place of infinite loving kindness".  We toured the centre and shared  lunch with the Rinpoche and the residents. (I also took pictures of the interior  but this one is my favorite.)  

"The Panchen Lama says there is a story spoken about during the lifetime of the Buddha. There was a very rich man in India, very wealthy, but he wasn't even able to give anybody any food. When people came to him and asked for a cup of water, he wouldn't even be able to give that away, and so he asked the Buddha, 'What can I do? This is very difficult for me. I just can't give anything to anybody.' The Buddha said 'It doesn't matter. What you do, you start off with your right hand, you take some water in your right hand and give it to your left hand."  quote from here

ODDS and ends...

Here are a few pics of items that I found unique in Ireland....First up is cough medicine - whereas we in the states  have cough suppressants, decongestants and  oral expectorants,  in Northern Ireland in the German discount market of Lidl, here were the choices....they just seem so comforting, don't they?  So, do you have a chesty cough or a tickly cough?

And I thought these were candies at first glance -

good thing I read the label!

Another item of interest (at least for me) was this toilet

that came with a comfy back cushion...

I thought it was quite thoughtful of the small cafe owner

to provide such comfort for patrons.....:)


And let's here it for the best that American culture has brought to the rest of the world - The Simpsons -

I snapped this photo of an ice cream truck while we were waiting

for the light to change. 

Sally Taylor

Five years ago I attended my first SDI conference in Costa Mesa California. It was there that I met Sally Taylor. It was between sessions and I was wandering through the vendors’ tables when I stopped to look at beautiful handmade labyrinths made by Mongolian women.

There was also a brochure on the table, describing Sally’s hermitage in Saintfield, Northern Ireland. What? I was so surprised by this point of connection! Sally and I conversed for no more than 20 minutes about my having relatives in that same village and about my ambivalence towards the country in general due to my experiences there as a teen. It was a memorable conversation and I purchased one of the labyrinths which still sits on my entry table.

Flash forward to this year when the announcement came that the SDI conference was being held in Dublin, Ireland. I didn’t think too much about it at first but it just kept entering my mind. Could I go? Was it even feasible?

Well it turns out that it was! A Celtic Pilgrimage was advertised for after the conference but I knew I needed to make a different pilgrimage - one in which to find peace from previous visits to Ireland. I googled "Sally Taylor" and found her hermitage online - I emailed her and asked if she remembered me - she replied that she did remember our short conversation and that I was the woman who left a piece of her heart in Ireland oh so many years ago. She invited me to stay with her.

Well that did it! I can’t describe the joy of having Sally as my travel guide, spiritual director, and friend on this trip. So I will start with sharing Sally’s gardens. with 20 acres of land Sally has created some of the most beautiful gardens I've ever seen...enjoy!

"Beauty takes us beyond the visible to the height of consciousness, past the ordinary to the mystical, away from the expedient to the endlessly true." Joan Chittister, OSB
p.s. click on the pictures to see the full beauty of these gardens.

Saintfield Church of Ireland

"I awake this morning in the presence of the holy angels of God. May heaven open wide before me, above me, and
around me, that I may see the Christ of my love and his sunlit company in all the things of earth this day."

From Celtic Prayers of Iona
by J. Phillip Newell

This is probably one of the better photos I took (this is not an area I have any giftedness in)...This is The Church of Ireland in Saintfield, a village in the County of Down, near Belfast, where I stayed. The photo suits this prayer that is from a bookmark from the Spiritual Directors Conference I attended in Dublin.

First Impressions

For years I have wondered about my parents' view of Ireland - it was the 1940's and early 50's Ireland - the "top of the mornin' to ya" Ireland. They encapsulated their homeland in the time frame that they wanted to remember it by. But do you know what I discovered? That I have been carrying around my own frozen-in-time 1970's view of Ireland since I was sent there in that particular decade - The place where the air was permeated with the smell of peat fires, and the taste of too sweet Coke and and the neverending military checkpoints. Boy, was I in for a few bubbles being burst on this trip!

Upon arrival in London I breezed through their immigration checkpoint - after all I am a British citizen and they asked no questions. I assumed the Irish checkpoint would be just as casual. Wrong! I may have been expecting an extra warm welcome to the land of leprechauns but instead I was interrogated about exactly how long I would be staying and exactly what I was planning to do while there. When asked if I had traveled to Ireland before I mentioned that I was born in Belfast. The officer looked me in the eye and stated, "Well ma'am....this is NOT Great Britain." Alrighty then....that was burst bubble #1.

I hailed a cab and sat in rush hour traffic for an hour, all the while watching the euro meter buzzing right along. When I walked through the door of my room, I threw open the curtains for an eyeful of Ireland but what did I see? Cows grazing on a hillside? No, I saw a TJ Maxx, a McDonald's, a Starbuck's and a Penneys....what? That turned out to be burst bubble #2...

Where had I landed? Not in my 1970's Ireland! Over 15 years ago, globalization had found its way into this once agricultural country which brought rampant growth and wealth to a place that had been best friends with poverty for centuries. The sight of those Western corporations caused a deepening crack in my emerald colored glasses!

Later, when I entered the restaurant I discovered that all the servers were Bulgarian Romanian, and Polish, as were all the hotel staff. I had trouble understanding them as their English was not the greatest (of course I don't speak a word of their language so who am I to talk?) Where were all the Mollys and Patricks and Liams? This was the final burst to my 1970's Irish bubble .

The new face of Ireland is one of immigration that arrived as the Celtic Tiger grew. But with worldwide recession and job losses this immigration is now being curtailed - hence the intense questioning received from the Irish Customs agent.

I now had a choice to make - I could cling to my old concept of Ireland, and spend the rest of my time whining about what was no longer reality (i.e. an Ireland of only Irish people) or I could accept the changes and move forward, with the realization that it was never "my" Ireland to begin with!

I chose the latter. We are all connected, are we not? and everyday our world becomes a bit smaller. People move around this globe...a lot! Borders are becoming blurred as they should be. In these difficult times of political and economic uncertainty, it is wise to remember that my story is not the only one or the most important one or the chosen one. I'm called to practice acceptance and compassion of all who carry their own stories. It is in hearing those stories that community is formed. May I remember this point.

There is an old Irish proverb that says "It is in the shelter of the other that the people live." I learned the importance of this all encompassing shelter of the "other" on this first leg of my trip.

photo is on how to register a birth in ireland.

Jet lag Jig

Pardon my silence but I've been doing the Jet Lag Jig...I am home, safe and sound, delighted to feel the comfort of my own bed and internally sorting through my trip experiences.

In the meantime here is a quote told by Megan McKenna from the the conference that I attended in Dublin that has stuck with me since I heard it:

"What we do not transform, we transmit"

Chew on that one for awhile!

Last Night in Ireland

The wee wise men are knackered.  Way too much activity for them so they are down for the night - our plane leaves for San Francisco in the morning.  After a 3 hour layover we fly back to Seattle.  Another 3 hour drive and we'll be HOME..... 

It's been a packed 10 days -  i'll be telling you all about it but I need to get my rest for tomorrow's airport experience.  Let's hope it's better than the one we had coming over :)  

Good Directions

Greetings from Saintfield, Northern Ireland! I'm here with Sally and Terry. Which brings to mind the beginning of that worn out  joke - "So a Buddhist, a Catholic Priest, and an Episcopalian walk into a bar". ( I know that was lame but I just had to say it!)

 

Yesterday was the end of the Spiritual Direction conference in Dublin. I'll talk about that when I return home but for now I want to tell stories.  Something I learned at the conference was this line:  "all stories are true and some of them have actually happened." 

Traveling alone gives a person constant opportunties to take relational risks.   You have the choice to engage with other human beings or not. Sometimes i have to force myself to approach a stranger as it's easier to step into an unknown situation and stick my nose in a book (plus our technology gives us ample opportunites to keep arms distance apart from one another).

When I walked into the restaurant yesterday morning there was only one woman sitting there.   I walked over to her table and introduced myself. She invited me to share our meal together and that is how I met Sister Pat, an Anglican nun, who lives in Arizona. During the course of our conversation she invited me to grab a taxi with her to attend the 8:30 Eucharist at a nearby Church of Ireland. Great idea! So we called for a cab and as we slid into the back seat, Sister Patricia handed our young driver the directions the woman at the Reception desk had written out for her. He read it several times before asking if we had any other information. We did not.  He said he'd never heard of the church but off we went. 

Within 5 minutes we were in a neighborhood that our driver seemed to be familiar with.  Right before depositing us inside the church gate he grabbed a pen and wrote something on the top of the directions. Handing it back he said, " When the next driver comes to pick you up to take you back to the hotel,  tell him that this place is right across from Moria's pub. That should make it a lot easier to find!!!" :)

(the photo is of Sister Pat in front of St. Bridget's in Dublin.) 

Guinness

The Wise Men protecting the Holy Grail @ the Sanctuary Bar.

Settling In

I'm more settled in now - it took me 20 minutes to figure out that you have to use your key card to turn the electricity on in your room. Hairdryers are kept in the vanity/desk drawers and there are 2 flushers on the toilet!  My room has a flat panel TV and messages appear there instead of on your phone.  Very la-de-da!  

I've been to several sessions and met some fascinating people. As you can see,  the wise men were fascinated with their very own "wee pot of jam" at breakfast. I asked the woman with whom I was sharing a table if she found the wise men strange and she responded with "I dress up for Star Trek conventions so I find very little to be strange."  Enough said!

Stowaways!

As I was sitting in the SFO terminal waiting for the call to board I noticed some movement in my bag.  What could it be?  I opened the zipper and this is what i saw - The Wise Men - I was stunned.  As you may recall they have been residing in my guest bathroom on the window shelf.  

The following is our conversation:

Me:  How did you get here?  What are you doing?

Them:  Well, you see, we saw you packing and heard you say you were going to Ireland and we realized that this was our chance to see the land of our birth.

Me:  But you are from the Far East!

Them:  That's not what it says on our bottoms - it says "Made in Ireland"...

Me:  Good Grief.  Why didn't you make yourselves known yesterday?

Them:  You seemed rather upset with missing your flight to Dublin and we didn't want to incur your wrath.

Me:  Fair enough.  Well I'm kind of glad that you are here.  We'll talk on the plane.

Them:  Really?  Can we order a meal?

Me:  Don't push it!

  

Breakfast in Burlingame

I was thrilled to look out my motel window this morning to see a Walgren's!  Woo Hoo! Deodorant and a brush and wonderful new pair of socks!!!!  I then spotted a Cafe Roma where I sat outside, sipping my latte, eating my fruit and thinking about Hafiz.  What?

  

I was reading my Presence magazine and came across one of his poems.  I have slightly paraphrased the first 2 stanzas within the parentheses:

"Not many teachers in this world

Can give you as much enlightenment

In one year (day)

As sitting alone, for three (one) days,

In your closet (Travelodge)

Would 

Do."

I have so many good teachers in those who speak to me online. One told me to direct myself, another told me that my arrival in Ireland would  be "perfect timing" and another told me that my spiritual conference had already begun - in SF.....and so it has...