Happiness is not a matter of intensity, but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony."

Thomas Merton

Back from my unintentional blogging hiatus. One may wonder what precipitated such a lengthy hiatus. Sometimes I wonder the same thing! Yes, the spring semester was very busy with travels, meetings and end of the year craziness at school. However, that's really nothing new in my life. And yet, the hiatus lingered. There were times I thought, "I should blog." Then I would reflect and either I had so much to say, I didn't know where to start or I lacked a certain since of inspiration for writing.

The past several weeks have been packed both with incredible challenges and times of great joy. There has been some angst surrounding the current situation of the Church in the US - the relationship of the LCWR and the Vatican, caustic relationship between the Church & civil society (politics), the current events in the Church of Philadelphia, etc. There are struggles in community life - that's typical of community life, really. And this is not to mention the personal struggles of people who are close to me - the mother of my closest friend from high school passed away and I could do nothing for the family except pray, there were friends far away experiencing bouts of depression and challenging situations.... Then there were the moments of joy in celebrating milestones, welcoming a good friend back to the Dayton area, times of prayer and conversations on retreats/weekends away, celebrating first professions...

Through it all - the ups and downs - maintaining a sense of balance became more of a necessity than a preference. Usually when people consider living a balanced life they try to spend equal energy (or sometimes equal time) on the various aspects of life. It's like trying to keep several balls in the air assuming that all the balls are of equal size and weight. For me, however, over the past several weeks I have reaffirmed the primary role that prayer and quiet have - that ball, if you will, is a little bigger and carries more weight. Of course, this is not anything new. I suppose I've been reminded in powerful ways.

Also, I've been reflecting on the role of inspiration in life. I've always said, I cannot write unless I am "inspired." I say that about a lot of things, really. I say I have to "feel" something in order to move or to be moved to respond. The thing is, however, that sometimes things have to be done based on duty, responsibility, or commitment. Again, this is not a new concept. It's part of growing up, of maturing. Perhaps I'm a little slow on the uptake, but reminders of this were of great value these past several weeks.

Balance, order, rhythm, harmony.... These are what allow for peace within even when everything without is going crazy. Stability. With the ups and downs of life and the ins and outs of people, sometimes a sense of stability can be difficult. Prayer and being centered in the person of Christ are the only ways to remain whole and open.

Currently, I am about to begin my second full, silent retreat of the summer. How did that happen, you might ask. Believe me, I asked the same question! The first retreat was with my fellow Marianists in formation. What a time of grace that was! It was just before the first profession of the 4 new temporary professed Marianist Brothers - a weekend packed with deep joy for our Marianist Family and for the Church (for more on that, read the following blog: http://ncronline.org/blogs/ncr-today/marianist-brothers-vows-reminder-joy-religious-life). Now, I am with a different set of peers as we reflect on what it means to be called to leadership in the Marianist family - responsibility, commitment, balance, order, stability. I have to admit, entering the summer I didn't like the idea of spending so much time on silent retreats. However, I embrace this time as an opportunity to be centered and listen for that still, small voice.

I hope this marks the end of the blogging hiatus....
Many blessings to all who read this!
Sr. N

Union with God is not something we acquire by a technique

but the grounding truth of our lives that engenders the very search for God.

Into the Silent Land

Martin Laird, OSA

This year during Lent I decided to pick up two new pieces of spiritual reading. The first book, by James Martin, SJ, was My Life with the Saints. An excellent read that is both memoir of his discernment journey and stories of saints that have touched his life along the way. I highly recommend it! The second book, Into the Silent Land, by Martin Laird, OSA, is of a much different sort.

Into the Silent Land is a guide to contemplative prayer. It’s not a how to, necessarily, although it could be. It’s also not an academic book about the theology of contemplation, although there are certainly some elements of that. It is more an in depth look at the human person in relationship to God. At least, so far in my reading of it.

The book is based on the fact that union with God is not something that we acquire or work for, but something that we realize or of which we become aware. And while that’s not necessarily a new insight or idea for me, the simplicity with which he states it - very matter-of-fact - caught me and when I read it I realized just how much I needed that message...

I've been doing a lot of thinking/praying lately about relationships - with God, with self, with others. That's what I do during Lent, typically. And in my prayer I've noticed that my fundamental premise has become one of alienation. Meaning, the belief that I am somehow separated from God (and consequently self) and that union with God must be worked at.

Laird's book reminded me of a few things. Allow me to quote something at length:

Union with God is not something we acquire by technique but the grounding truth of our lives that engenders the very search for God. Because God is the ground of our being, the relationship between creature and Creator is such that, by sheer grace, separation is not possible. God does not know how to be absent. The fact that most of us experience throughout most of our lives a sense of separation is the great illusion that we are caught up in; it is the human condition. The sense of separation from God is real, but the meeting of stillness reveals that this perceived separation does not have the last word. This illusion of separation is generated by the mind and is sustained by the riveting of our attention to the interior soap opera, the constant chatter of the cocktail party going on in our heads. For most of us this is what normal is, and we are good at coming up with ways of coping with this perceived separation. (Laird, 15)

I don't know about you, but that description of the mind as a cocktail party (many conversations and a lot of noise) or as the playing of a soap opera (replaying old conversations, imagining situations and outcomes) is so true for me!! I am constantly replaying things in my mind or imagining how much easier things would be if they went my way or thinking of what I would say if I had the courage to speak up.... Does that resonate with anyone else?

So, I've been spending some time during the second half of Lent (since returning from the Los Angeles Religious Ed Congress) trying to ease the chatter of the mind. Maybe that's why I haven't blogged recently.

As Lent draws to its close today and we enter the Triduum Season - the shortest of all Liturgical Seasons, but one that is packed with meaning - may it be one of rich prayer for us all... and a recognition that our union with God is already a fact.

Many blessings to all who read this,

Sr. N