CISTERCIAN WOODS - Christmas Eve

December 24, 2002

For you have preserved my soul

From the pit of nothingness,

You have thrust all my sins behind you.

(Isaiah 38,17)

My last full day here. I could happily stay but, knowing that the time to leave is approaching, I’m nearly ready to go. There’s a time for everything. I can’t believe where the time has gone.

The sky in the east looks clear for the sunrise and the morning star shines now directly above the church like a promise, a single bird sings with great life. I’m alone in the guesthouse. It’s very tranquil.

***

The morning has been absolutely beautiful, sunshine and no cold - just like Spring. The Lord has been very kind in these weeks, having led me to this lovely place of peace and prayer, a place in which I have felt completely at home. It’s a little miracle in itself that, despite the cold, my head, sinus and gums have been fine, thank God.

Catriona, the 13 year old girl with Leukemia, whom Emmet asked me to pray for, is now in a coma. He has gone to anoint her. What a time for her parents. God help them and her.

There’s a wind rising, with clouds gathering and a pale sun filters through the trees.

The guesthouse has been very peaceful with only Lionel and myself around. Maggie came for a visit in the afternoon, stayed for vespers and tea. It was nice and relaxing and we had a good chat. I talked a lot about Maura and I feel well about her this year. Travelling Light is on forgiveness today. I forgive and will have to keep on forgiving a certain man but I think he scorns every attempt we have made to be on good terms with him and the more we have tried the more he despises us. I think we are too willing to let him and others walk all over us. And having thought that, I prayed the Office of Readings which had this to say: 

…of your back you made a pavement,

A street for them to walk on

(Isaiah 52)

***

At 10.30 p.m. I joined the monks for Vigils - my first time getting to them since arriving - and afterwards was invited by Nivard to have a mug of tea in the refectory. Another little privilege! A spoon of tealeaves into the mug with hot water on top. He gave me a chair at one of the long tables and I got a piece of cake. All the monks sit with their backs to the wall, with no one facing them at table, and they always eat in silence, except that every so often one would break the silence and come to ask in a whisper if I needed anything else. There were smiles all around. A huge Christmas tree with coloured blinking lights stands behind the table where the Abbot sits.

Tomorrow they will celebrate here, without turkey, and they will sit around for the evening singing. Lionel will join them.

For Midnight Mass the church was full, the celebration being led by Abbot Laurence who “twined” our celebration with that of the women prisoners taking place at the same time in Mountjoy.

Again the flow and pace of the Liturgy is very inspiring and reflective, drawing forth from deep within a sense of joy, a joy that is waiting to dance. Going to receive the chalice I felt like dancing  - imagined Shirley asking, May I have this dance? There is something about joy that is not given immediate expression. It becomes a force, a power, like the Word imprisoned like fire in the bones of Jeremiah - it breaks forth in its own moment.

Got to bed at 1.30 a.m.

CISTERCIAN WOODS - A Wild Warm Wind

December 23, 2002

I will myself bring him near

And so he shall approach me, says the Lord

(Jeremiah 30)

Sr. Una has left this morning to spend the day with her family in Dublin. She will spend Christmas alone. The life of a hermit is an amazing calling. We have talked with great ease during our meals together. Alice leaves in a short while. Then I will be the only guest remaining.

We talked a bit about the singing of the monks. Young Br. Richard has the most beautiful voice but it is the sound that comes from Fr. Anthony that is special. He has been Cantor here for 40 years, is a man who suffers and he sings from the depths of his soul. It is most inspiring to listen to him. Nothing can compare with a lifetime lived, a lifetime lived for the Lord, and the prayer emanating from that is quite unparalleld.

A wild warm wind is blowing and the sky hangs low with the threat of rain. After Tierce I will go for a stroll in the fields and the woods.

O Immanuel,

You are our king and judge,

The one whom the peoples await and their Saviour.

O come and save us,

Lord our God.

Fr. Anthony O’Brien, the younger of the two Anthony’s, tells me he’s off to Norway in June to become chaplain to a monastery of nuns. That should be interesting and I’m sure something he never dreamed of. He worked on the farm for 20 years.

I heard in Drogheda that Shirley’s friend Michelle Slattery is back in Glencairn. Michelle had worked in Africa and was MMM novice mistress in Drogheda before she moved to the Cistercians and as soon as she made final profession as a Cistercian she was sent to Nigeria as novice mistress. I thought at the time how funny and strange and wise God is. To leave a missionary congregation for a contemplative one, only to find yourself sent back to the missions. Anyway I’m sure she’s glad to be back in her own monastery. Shirley and I visited her in Glencairn once or twice.

I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord,

Plans for welfare and not for evil,

To give you a future and a hope.

You will seek me and find me

When you seek me with all your heart.

(Jeremiah 29,11.13)

He…renews your youth like an eagle’s

(Psalm 103,5)

Walking through the woods on this gloomy day that is swept by wind and rain, I thought it might be Barnabas unseen, ahead, leaving in his wake an angelic lucent trail that caused to glow underfoot the brown leaves, and stones emerald in moss. It really seemed that they were lit up. Dead leaves glowing embers in a golden fire. And I got thoroughly soaked, though I didn’t mind at all.

***

Alone for the start of lunch, I was soon joined by two young men who came to visit Br. Richard. One of them is at the Irish College in Rome and served at Emmet’s diaconate. The other is on a year out from Maynooth and appears earnest and innocent. A while later John Guidera, cousin of our man of the same name. He lives in Dublin and I’ve met him many times in Pallotti House.

Spent the afternoon trying to write a bit of poetry and had supper alone in the evening.

CISTERCIAN WOODS - Your Face Is Beautiful

December 21, 2002

I hear my beloved,

See how he comes

Leaping…

Come, then, my love

My lovely one come…

(Song of Songs)

***

Travelling Light talks about consciously and deliberately taking into ourselves all the negativity and sins that are in the people around us, to filter and transform them into blessings, to become a reconciler. I’m wary of doing such an exercise because one could be taking in stuff that one can’t handle. Daniel O’Leary does warn against ingesting the poison of some people, especially if we are feeling vulnerable. There are toxic people whom we do well to avoid until we are stronger. There is an evil that most of us cannot handle. That sounds very true and wise.

During meditation I became aware that I already ingest the stuff that’s in people around me, like I did with the girl last night. Often I just take it in and it goes round inside me. What I need to do is to filter it though prayer so that it is no longer destructive. It can only be done in God and, with His strength, it can be done.

***

After meditation in the church I went to the sacristy to check things out for Mass. I told Br. Oliver that I was leading the Mass.

Well, I hope you have a very happy Christmas, he said, holding out his hand to shake mine. I realised the mistake.

Into the morning silence I had to shout a bit, I’m not LEAVING, I’m LEADING!

Oh, he said, you’re the chief celebrant!

Yes! why couldn’t I just have said chief celebrant.

Being chief celebrant in this setting was a joy. It’s like achieving the dream of a lifetime and I can’t say what to what it compares.

In the sacristy I was vesting between the retired Abbot Colmcille and Abbot Laurence. There’s practically no talking done while the ten or so monks vest for Mass. Everyone is focused - with no eyes averted - and silent. Heads are hooded for the brief moment of putting on vestments and when my head emerged from its hood Abbot Laurence turned to say something and he giggled, oh it’s you. Not that he minded it being me but he was expecting someone else and he wanted someone to be prayed for at the Mass. Things that are mildly humorous, or not humorous at all in “ordinary” life, seem very funny to them. I like that.

The readings for Mass were just beautiful - the above quotation from the Song of Songs is taken from the first reading and the gospel was the Visitation - the leaping of the Beloved and the leaping of John the Baptist in his mother’s womb, at the approach of Jesus in Mary. What is offered to us is hearts that leap for joy at His coming.

Last week someone sympathised with me on being with the Cistercians whose Liturgy she considers mundane compared to that of the Benedictines. Her sympathy was lost on me because my love is for the earthiness and simplicity of the Cistercian way.

It was pointed out to me today that the eagle in the emblem of Mount St. Joseph’s has its claws on the earth and its head in the stars which represent heaven.

Tony Flannery has this to say about the reading from the Song of Songs:

This is an image and a language that the average Catholic is not familiar with, at least not in a religious context.

The great painters of the Renaissance mostly used religious themes in their paintings. But I am always struck by how sensuous is their presentation of the bodies of the saints and Biblical figures. Clearly these artistic masters admired and loved the human body, even in a deeply religious age. Obviously the Catholic tradition of the recent past, which emphasised the dichotomy between soul and body, and saw the body as the source of sin and evil, was not always dominant in the Church. But it did shape the attitudes of our generation  towards sexuality, and all types of physical expression. For many of us it was a struggle to accept our physical selves and to learn to be at home in our bodies.

(Waiting in Hope, pp 51-52)

During Mass I remember that this was also the first reading at Sr. Juliana’s funeral a year ago.

Back in the sacristy monks smiled and nodded at me - even those who had previously made no attempt at contact.

***

Emmet and Johnny came by my room at 10.00 and we went for coffee which lasted over an hour. It was like being back in former times. Johnny and I went for a walk and a chat in the rain and ended up at Br. Peter’s crib down on the farm.

Met some of Youth 2000 down at the college. Some find the location cold and not as homely as Esker while others think it’s just a lovely setting. We’re all made differently.

At lunch Br. Emmanuel came to ask if he could have a chat with me so we agreed on 2.00 p.m. in the parlour where we sat by the large window that looks out onto the grounds. He’s a fine person with a sensitive spirit and we had a lot to talk about. We connected well.

Alice and I were the only two for supper and we got talking about her work and about St. Bernard who she described as a man with a perfect love and a perfect hate. Not one for half measures. Perfect hate is referred to in Psalm 139 -  I hate them with a perfect hatred. An idea most of us are not too familiar with. It’s the hatred of evil.

There’s a thing called the Lactations of Bernard. At first I didn’t cop what it meant and thought lactations might be some of his writings. Lactations, of course, have to do with milk, the milk of Our Lady. It’s part of his spirituality of getting nourishment from Our Lady and in paintings he’s depicted as drinking the milk that’s coming from her breasts. He might have had a vision of something like this. The way Alice described it was quite funny.

***

During Compline I had the sense that monastic prayer is very distinctive and uncluttered. It’s not at all devotional or sentimental. It seems healthy and the kind of prayer that suits me. But it does not suit every one.

Lord guard us as the apple of your eye,

Hide us in the shadow of your wings

(sung at Compline every night)

***

O rising sun,

You are the splendour of eternal light

And the sun of justice.

O come and enlighten

Those who sit in darkness

And in the shadow of death.

***

Show me your face,

Let me hear your voice.

For your voice is sweet

And your face is beautiful.

(Song of Songs)

SHEPHERD

What I feel

is the cold

dark night

of Shepherding

shivering by the stable

door

not perceiving

what I have seen

not understanding

what I have heard

I want

the swaddling blanket
of a baby born

breast on which to rest

my weary head

the child-cry in me 

am I past all that?

and destined now

for mothering the child

fathered

folded in my arms

resting her head

to sleep upon me

the trusting trusted

the needy needed

CISTERCIAN WOODS - December 12, 2002

December 12: Our Lady of Guadalupe

Clear a pathway, Lord, in our hearts

To make ready for your only Son

(Concluding Prayer in the Office)

Spent most of the day, in between singing the Office with the monks, preparing the retreat for the Medical Missionaries.

At lunch Julian went into a long monologue about how the clergy are never there to answer people’s questions and doubts, how we do nothing about the false beliefs that are common among young people, beliefs such as re-incarnation. He wanted Sr. Cait and I - he referred to us as the experts - to tell him what the Church’s teaching is on re-incarnation or where one could find it. I suggested he look up the Catechism of the Church. The old catechism or the one that came out in the 70’s? , he asked. The one that came out in the last ten years, I said, it’s the only catechism there is now.

That was as much as anyone could get in. He already knows the answer and is only interested in discussion but the undertone was negative and aggressive towards clergy and he wasn‘t really interested in anyone‘s opinion. And his monologue went on and on. To be fair to him, he suffers from depression and is very intelligent but I didn’t come here for this. I could feel myself getting angry (where’s that coming from?) so I excused myself.

***

Went down for a cup of tea at 4.00 p.m. and met Michael Farrell, a brother of Liam “Corky” Farrell. Liam has been calling to our door in Thurles for the best part of 25 years and is someone we are very fond of. He’s been on the road all his adult life and struggles with the drink but is always very nice to us. They were both fostered out but their foster parents died and there was nothing to hold them.

Michael worked here in the monastery for a couple of years and has great praise for his time here - for the monks and for being close to nature. He went to London while still in his teens and lived rough for 30 years. When drink was beginning to threaten his life he got himself dried out two years ago and he‘s now with AA.

He’s accompanied by a BBC crew who are doing a documentary on him, part of which involves him coming home to meet Liam who he hasn’t seen for 17 years. They met today in Roscrea. Liam is now living and working with the Mercy sisters in New Inn.

***

May the God who gives us peace

Make you completely His,

And keep your whole being,

Spirit, soul and body,

Free from all fault,

At the coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

(1 Thessalonians 5,23)

CISTERCIAN WOODS - December 11, 2002

December 11, 2002

Come to me all you who labour and are overburdened

And I will give you rest.

Tony is suffering from manic depression. He comes to Lauds and Mass here in the morning and today we had breakfast together. He claims to have seen Jesus, Our Lady, St. Theresa and St. Bridget many times. Our Lady, he says, doesn’t like women wearing trousers - they are not her girls. Having asked me for a blessing, he promised to add me to his list of priests he prays for - I’m number 28 or 29 - saying that my life will now take a turn.  I’ll pray especially to St. Peregrine that you won’t die of cancer. You won’t die of cancer, he promised.

Got a card from John Fitzpatrick this morning telling me that Remy Mattanga died on Saturday December 7 in hospital in Arusha and was buried in Galapo on Monday. The news saddened me but I’m also glad he is released and hope he died peacefully.  The first retreat I ever gave was to Remy and Fortunatus in Galapo in 1984. May he rest in peace.

***

We spent an hour and a half at lunch today talking about past students of St. Patrick’s College, some of whom are now dead - Joe Walsh, Tony Spellman, John Egan and Paddy Shivenan. Michael told us of his own experience with cancer over the past year, a very traumatic time. He seems to be doing well now and hopefully will continue that way.

***

This morning when reflecting on the retreat I have to give to the MMM’s I thought of how God is already moving towards us, seeking us out, even as we are searching and waiting for Him. The thought was confirmed when I went to do my meditation from Travelling Light.

In our journey towards wholeness or inner freedom,

It is often reassuring to realise that

God is also busy seeking us

…the beckoning God of surprises…

Is far more eager to be intimate with us

than we are with God

(Travelling Light, p.60)

Daniel O’Leary goes on to say that it is God himself who moves us to begin the journey and to illustrate what our seeking is like he quotes St. John of the Cross, using the passage, extracts of which are on Maura’s memorial card:

One dark night,

Fired by love’s urgent longings…

I went out unseen,

My house being now all stilled…

With no other light to guide

Than the one that burned in my heart

I abandoned and forgot myself,

Laying my face on my beloved;

All things ceased; I went out from myself,

Leaving my cares

Forgotten among the lilies.

It is the light of the Divine presence, the power of God’s love within us which moves us to go in search of God - we are urged on by Love - and there is nothing we can do to make progress except to let this urging of Love have it’s way. The only power we possess is to block God’s Love, to prevent it working in us. We have the power to resist, and don’t we exercise that power very well!

The task of today’s meditation is to discover the face of God in the very thoughts and feelings that cloud your heart. But we do not just deal with abstract thoughts and feelings:

picture the person who is currently giving you the most hassle and grief

…draw an imaginary circle of light around that person’s head.

…let your negative (and maybe justified) feelings fall away.

Reflect on the…benefits that this person has brought your way.

When you bless this person

You release them from the grip of your anger

(Travelling Light, p.64)

A final association with Maura is the quoting of the writer Tagore who I think she liked:

Yours is the light that breaks from the

Dark, and the good that sprouts from the deft heart

Of strife.

Yours is the gift that still is gain when

Everything is a loss, and the life that flows through

The caverns of death.

Yours is the heaven that lies in the common

Dust, and You are there for me; You are there

For all.

(Tagore, quoted in Travelling Light, p.63)

***

It is usually in disguise

That God comes to meet us;

And the disguised God often lives

At the strangest addresses.

(Travelling Light, p.63)

Our enemy is really our precious teacher;

That is why Jesus asks us to love our enemy

(Travelling Light, p.62)

***

Michael has gone and we’re joined by Brendan and Julian. Brendan is an elderly farmer from Fethard who got animated when we started talking about nature, telling us the story of his cocker spaniel, Blackie, who was with him for 13 years but died of a brain tumour two weeks ago. He misses the dog so much. According to him we’re in for bad weather, maybe even snow, because of the way the moon is sitting in the sky.

Julian is very incensed by the hatred the Protestants in the North have for Catholics and wonders why Our Lord, who led Israel out of Egypt, cannot or does not do something about it. I suggested that we might have to follow the example of Jesus, the Lamb that was led to the slaughter, and find some power hidden in that. He thought, with Jesus risen, that that would not apply now.

John Joe from Kerry arrived after supper.

CISTERCIAN WOODS - December 10, 2002

December 10, 2002

We are neither as peculiar nor as special

As we would like to think

(Colman)

***

I’m just one of the many.

I’m just one of the human race.

This is what it’s like to be human.

Good days, not-so-good days.

Just like everyone else.

Why do I expect to be the exception?

(Daniel O’Leary, Travelling Light, p.55)

*** 

It is our suffering

that is the most basic element

That we share with others,

The factor that unifies us

With all living creatures.

(The Dali Lama)

***

Suffering and sickness

Is the great school of patience,

And it is a school that everyone

Will have to attend…

It is only very slowly

That we begin to recognise

The presence of God in our suffering

(Tony Flannery, Waiting in Hope, p.35)

***

When my sin, my personal problems and suffering get blown up out of all proportion, I have to remind myself again to place them in the context of the whole of human life beyond myself. And not just in the context of human life but all life. It’s a lesson Maura taught me years and years ago, one that has to be learned time after time.

***

Went to visit Brother Neil in the bookshop. He’s a great talker who appreciates a listener. In his former life he was an accountant and married with two children. 

His wife died when he was 70 years old and when a Vincentian friend suggested he become a priest and go to Australia, he didn’t like the idea at all, particularly the part about going to Australia. One day at Mass, on his way up to Communion, he was wondering if he had a religious vocation when the organ started playing a piece of music that was special to his father. He took it as a sign and came to Roscrea to see if they would take him. They eventually did, seventeen years ago.

***

Lionel is the man I met here in September when I came to see if I could spend these three weeks here. He’s from Wales, trained in history, and has been working here at the guest house for two and a half years in the role of caretaker, receptionist, waiter at tables. And, as a diversion, he prunes the pear trees in the monastery garden.

He is the male equivalent of Shirley, God rest her. So sincerely full of kind concern, polite and helpful. Being from Wales, there’s a good chance that he’s not Catholic and he doesn’t attend any of the prayers or Masses in the church here, as far as I can tell.

He had overheard a discussion on my surname at table today and later told me he’d read of a General Monson in the British-Indian army in India in the 1800’s, a man strongly opposed to Governor Hastings at the time. Lionel is qualified in history which he taught for twenty years.

Tonight he spoke lovingly of the men of the road who come to stay here from time to time, spoke of his sadness on hearing of the death of Derek in a park in Dublin a couple of weeks ago. How he wished he could have been able to help him more.

***

Fr. Bonaventure, from Co. Galway, says that I’ve fitted in very well with the monks - like a hand in a glove. He was very pleased to hear that I’ve always wanted to spend time here. Maybe it’s an affirmation of their vocation in a time when numbers are getting so small. The two younger members of the community arrived back from Oxford where they’re studying for the priesthood. They offer a positive sign.

Three of the community who I thought were around my age, or maybe fifty at the most, turn out to be 59, 64 and 66. They look so young!

THE RED CAR - Restoration

When I was a little boy I had a beautiful shiny red sports car that I loved and played with until it got broken. It's what happens with toys but I was extremely saddened and my Mam said that maybe Santy would be able to fix it. So I left it on the windowsill when I was going to bed one night and in the morning it was gone. And it remained gone. Presumably Santy came and took it.

Christmas night came and I was in bed, unable to sleep with excitement but I kept my face my face turned to the wall in case Santy would disappear if I looked at him. I was also freezing cold because the blankets had fallen off the bed but I didn't dare move to get them.

The window opened. That's how he got in. I heard him in the room and was so pleased when he picked the bedclothes off the floor to cover me. That felt really special and comfortable. He was gone then. Silence. And Mam came in to tell us we could get  up.

Our presents were in brown paper bags and to my astonishment there was my shiny red sports car in perfect condition. The very same car! I was beside myself with pleasure. Santy was so amazing!

About ten years ago Mam presented me with a present. It might have been around Christmas time and when I opened it up there was a beautiful red shiny sports car. I was struggling at the time and it became for me a symbol of hope, one of my favourite symbols of Advent.

In my adult life I don't have Santa to fix my toys and anyway it's not toys that need mending now. But I have God who takes the broken, damaged aspects of my life. I give them to him so that He can restore them in some way and by restoring make it easier for me to make the journey that I have to make in this life. The restoration doesn't often fit in to a neat space like Advent but it does come eventually.

When I moved to Galway last year the red car came with me and it remained in tact on a sideboard until my lovely nieces took a shine to it. Now every time they come into my house the red car is one of the first things they make for. It gives them great pleasure and in turn gives me great pleasure watching them. 

In the process of play the car has become somewhat damaged - a door warped, a wheel fallen off - and I'm happy with the state it's in because love has somehow brought it to that state. It also strikes me that I'm not as bothered either with the damaged, scratched or broken aspects of myself. I can live with them and even be happy with them as long as there is love and as long as I'm able to continue the journey mapped out for me by God.

winding ways will be straightened

and rough roads made smooth.

so that God's people can walk in safety under the glory of God.

(Luke 3 & Baruch 5)

CISTERCIAN WOODS - December 8, 2002

December 8, 2002

I will lie down in peace

And sleep comes at once.

(Psalm 4)

These lines, which are sung here every night at Compline, remind me of Maura and the ease with which she slept always but even more now they speak of her last laying down, the sleep in which she died.

The experience of singing the office with the monks is silencing and I’m finding little to say. The psalms wash over and seep into the very core of one’s being.

If you have lost the person you loved,

Someone with whom you shared many Christmases

But is now dead,

All the grief and loneliness can come back to haunt you.

And yet…

We are called on to be happy,

To be  people of joy.

(Tony Flannery, Waiting in Hope, pp.29-30)

CISTERCIAN WOODS - December 7, 2002

December 7, 2002: St. Ambrose

Ten members of a Limerick prayer group have arrived for the weekend and a group of 60 Legion of Mary people are in for Mass and a bit of a party. Busy spot tonight.

St. Ambrose was elected bishop by the people before he was even baptised. Fergus thinks that all bishops should be elected by acclamation.  He has a point but then look at the politicians we elect. Most of our bishops, though not star performers, are essentially men of integrity.

At communion we sang Cead Mile Failte, reminding me of Maura and Rosaleen’s singing of it at her funeral. This time it brought a smile of comfort.

Fergus went away after breakfast. 

***

When the Lord has given you the bread of suffering

And the water of distress,

He who is your teacher will hide no longer,

And you will see your teacher with your own eyes

(Isaiah 30, 20)

***

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.

What is essential is invisible to the eye

(A. St. Exupery, The Little Prince)

***

Console my people, console them.

Speak to the heart of Jerusalem, and call to her

That her time of service is ended

And her sin is atoned for.

(Isaiah)

Walked with Carmel for an hour around the country roads and on our way back met Michael McEgan who had just arrived to  join the group from Limerick.

At 11.00 Br. Dominic brought me on a tour of monastery. For such an old building it’s in great shape and the library is just beautiful. It was built 120 years ago - not so old, I suppose, as monasteries go.

The emblem of the monastery is the eagle. The eagle that flies to the highest heaven facing directly into the sun. If I’m to become an eagle then that’s what I must learn to do.

The time is flying by.

CISTERCIAN WOODS - December 5, 2002

December 5, 2002

Once a certain anxious person, who oftentimes wavered between hope and fear, once overcome with sadness, threw himself upon the ground before one of the altars in the church and thinking these things in his mind said, “Oh, if only I knew how to persevere,” that very instant he heard within him this heavenly answer: “And if you did know this, what would you do? Do now what you would do and you shall be perfectly secure.”

(Imitation of Christ, Book 1, Chapter 25)

Yesterday at table I asked Billy if he’s looking forward to going to Spain. “I don’t look forward” he said, “I just live in the present.” “I don’t agree with that” said Fidelma “it’s important to look forward.”

There’s this tension in me, in all of us I suppose, between living in the present and the whole thing of expectant anticipation which is part of Advent. Perhaps what we need to get rid of is the kind of anxious looking forward which is so much part of us.

The way forward, the path to follow, can only be revealed

Within our attentive presence to the present moment.

(Daniel O’Leary, Travelling Light, p.34)

The stars glittered in the dark frosty morning sky, the morning star being particularly bright. When the sun came up a veil of white frost lay upon the grass,  fog lingered on the river and the flood waters had turned to ice. It was time to tramp through the fields over the hardened mud and through the woods again contemplating withered leaves underfoot, leaves dying into the earth.

We are all like withered leaves

And our sins blow us away like the wind…

(Isaiah)

Take time to enter into the image of the withered leaf.

…in your weakness and failure you feel helpless and afraid.

It is good to let these feelings come to us at times.

They bring us down to earth, rid us of our stupid pride.

And, most of all, they open us up to the awareness of something greater.

(Tony Flannery, Waiting In Hope, pp.13-14)

We were leaves on top of a fresh tree, still full of sap, still green with the light of the sun shining through us, the light of God shining in us. And then we withered, beaten by the wind, blown away and falling down, dry brown then wet brown on the winter ground, trampled underfoot, trampled into earth again.

Contemplating the withered leaves as I walked I thought of the spirit of timidity which is part of my nature. What is the opposite of timidity? Whatever it is I need more of it even though I’m not half as timid as I used to be.

God did not give us a spirit of timidity but

The Spirit of power and love and self-control 

(2 Timothy 1,7)

Timid souls take heart 

(from the antiphon for Vespers)

***

At lunch Billy and Fidelma told us how the British tabloids ran a story about them when they were married - the story was that a monk, Billy, had jumped over the monastery wall to marry this young girl. The truth is that Billy was a novice here 40 years ago but he left after the noviciate.

For afternoon tea I was with Fergus, a Dublin business man who joined us yesterday. He was telling me how he was sorted out here 10 years ago - or is still being sorted out as he corrected. We’re all still being sorted. Sitting with him had the feeling of being in a home for the recovering sick and I am one of the recovering sick. A startling thought because up till then I felt I was better but I realized in that moment that I’m still not fully well, though much better than I was two months ago.

During my afternoon walk I came on Br. Peter who was climbing through a wire fence, having settled his donkey for the night. We stood by his crib which is made of plastic bags tied in tent shape to a tree. The figures are made out of paper. Our Lady, Joseph and Jesus are lying down on the hay together. It looks very snug. He said a lot of Travellers come to the crib to pray.

Peter came here from Enniskillen 47 years ago after his girlfriend refused to marry him. She also joined a convent and they are still in touch. Before coming here he worked for 15 years as a rep for Beleek china and Galway was one of his favourite places. He delivered china to Glynn’s shop. It’s no longer there but the mention of it brought its smell back to me and going to visit Santa there.

He is renowned here for his poverty and his childlike paintings which he sells to make money for the poor. To look at he’s very scruffy with a wild head of hair and a beard and eyes that are pure blue and sparkling.

Sr. Carmel Donnelly from Newport has come here for the weekend. Good to see her.

There is not a more troublesome or worrisome enemy to the soul

Than yourself when you are not agreeing with the spirit.

(Imitation of Christ, Book 3, Chapter 13)