Our first Thursday Spiritual Journey gathering is hosted today by Fran Haley at lit bits and pieces.
Today is the first Thursday of November and a group of bloggers gather to share their spiritual journey. Fran selected the theme for today, holy. I immediately thought of the hymn Holy, Holy, Holy. I thought of the torn apart hymnal I was given by an artist friend to use for collage. I didn’t find that hymn but one that did use the word Holy. I wanted to create an erasure or black out poem. I googled Zentangle designs and set to work on the page.
This exercise became meditative and holy. I used a pen that I had picked up from my dad. He was a pointillist artist. I felt his presence as I imagined the time he spent making dots on a drawing. He was always fascinated by the play of dark and light. One of his favorite Bible verses was John 1:5 “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Holy humble prayer we clasp hands worship deep
All love is true
Sufjan Stevens has a wonderful version of Holy, Holy, Holy that I am placing here for you to listen to. These singers are wonderful, but they start goofing around on the video around the 3 minute mark.
Wishing you a happy and holy holiday season. What does holy mean to you?
If you are a Spiritual Thursday blogger and would like to host a month in 2023, please sign up on this Google document.
Spiritual Journey First Thursday is hosted today by Chris Margocs.
For Spiritual Thursday, Chris suggested we write about “those who have passed and left something behind in our hearts.” My father died 5 months ago. My grief returns when I’m struck by something I want to share with him. A few weeks ago, we were driving to my daughter’s house to watch the LSU game and without realizing it, I thought about calling my dad to see if he was watching the game. Bam! Before I knew it, tears were welling up and I couldn’t speak.
I’ve started listening to a new podcast with Anderson Cooper on grief, All There Is. The episodes I’ve listened to are powerful and poignant. While I was blessed to have my father for 61 years, loss is loss is loss.
Anderson Cooper interviewed Stephen Colbert, and I was touched by what Colbert said about grief.
It’s a gift to exist. And with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that. But if you are grateful for your life. Then you have to be grateful for all of it… I have some understanding that everybody is suffering and however imperfectly, acknowledge their suffering and connect with them and to love them in a deep way that makes you grateful for the fact that you have suffered so that you can know that about other people. I want to be the most human I can be, and that involves acknowledging and ultimately being grateful for the things that I wish didn’t happen because they gave me a gift.
Stephen Colbert, All There is
I’m not sure I am at the point at which I can be grateful for the pain of loss, but I can be grateful for the life my father had and the legacy he left behind.
Last weekend my sister and I visited my mother. We took her to church on Sunday. We have a family history at St. James. When my parents were married there, my mother’s father served the church as a priest. I was baptized, confirmed, and married there. When I walked down the aisle holding my mother’s hand, we both got teary-eyed. My father’s ashes reside in the church walls in the columbarium. His presence was with us in that moment.
St. James Episcopal Church, Jackson, MS (photo by Margaret Simon)
I subscribe to Suleika Jaouad’s The Isolation Journals newsletter. A recent writing prompt suggested composing a prayer beginning with the Sanskrit prayer, “May creatures everywhere be happy, healthy, and free.” Here is my prayer:
May creatures everywhere be happy, healthy, and free. May you sleep as soundly as my old dog Charlie on his therapeutic bed. May you laugh as loudly as my granddaughter Stella on Facetime, eating a cookie, crumbs all around her mouth, smacking between giggles. May your muscles feel as stretched and tired as mine after yin yoga class, still tingling from pigeon pose. May our paths cross on a fall evening when the breeze is cool, and we see the bright light of Jupiter, shining with eternal hope. May we share a moment of memory of a life we knew was good. May we cry a little. May you look forward to tomorrow feeling the peace of knowing you are prepared. Yes, and be still and know God as the deepest, most truthful, and holy part of you.
Happy September! Maureen has the Spiritual Thursday round up today. Her topic suggestion was “community.” As a new school year gets underway, my thoughts of community turn to my classroom. To build community, we write together. I’ve always felt that writing helps build connections and brings us closer to each other.
When my father died in April, I received so many cards that I couldn’t fit them all on my counter, so I filled a basket. Like Christmas, every day for a few weeks I received handwritten, comforting cards and letters. Without even noticing, I had become a part of a community of people who support each other in good times and in bad times.
This weekend there was an article in the local paper that caught my eye. It was an interview with a teacher I knew. This teacher came to a writing workshop I held one summer. Because we wrote together, I feel close to her. I cut out the article and laminated it to send to her. She probably has multiple copies, but I decided that the gesture was about more than just giving her another copy of the article. It was a gesture of community, recognizing and seeing her.
My writing group is a special community to me. The Inklings got together and created a “junk journal” with each poet writing a special sympathy poem for me. I made a video of this gift that can be viewed here. Linda Mitchell of our group recently shared a new poem with us. She wrote it about the sycamore tree that we planted in memory of my dad on the grounds of their retirement home. “A sycamore tree symbolizes strength, protection, eternity, and divinity.” She gave me permission to share her sweet skinny poem.
Whether writing with each other or writing for each other, writing creates community. If you are interested in joining a small community of writers, tune in on Wednesdays when I post “This Photo Wants to be a Poem.” We write together in separate places about a shared image. There is always room for more.
abandon the shoes that had brought you here right at the water’s edge, not because you had given up but because now, you would find a different way to tread,
Sometimes we have to abandon shoes, say goodbye, leave something or someone behind.
Today is my last day of summer as we define it in the world of education, not by the actual season but by the school calendar. I go back to school tomorrow. Students will come next Wednesday and the year 2022-23 will be up and running.
I will leave behind the shoes of slow mornings, lingering over coffee and conversation. When this time arrives, it’s hard not to evaluate your summer. The question to my colleagues and students will be “How was your summer?” So in one word, we evaluate how we spent our days off. “Good” “Rough” “Crazy” “Busy” “Fun” “Exhausting”
Which shoes will I reminisce about when I hear this question?
Teva sandals,
straps of yellow, pink, orange, and blue
draw attention to my feet, my yellow toenails.
I can walk through water in these shoes.
Hold steady in a river raft.
They are made of sunshine and beach shores,
strappy bathing suits and splash pad sprinklers.
I relax into them, feel summer fresh.
I will leave these at the shore of school days,
put on sensible teacher shoes,
and walk into a new school year.
If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.
Close to midnight when the darkness is darkest, I was sleeping next to Leo, my 3 year-old grandson. He woke up startled on his first night staying with us last week. “Mamère, what’s that?” he asked.
“That’s an owl. Can you hear it? Who, who, who!”
“Is it in the house?”
“No, no, it’s across the bayou way up high in the trees.”
Whoooooooooo!
“Scary.”
“Don’t worry, I’m here. The owl is far away.”
“Far away? Outside? In the trees?”
We talked for a while about owls, how they live in trees, hunt at night, call to their friends. The questions went on and on until I sleepily said, “It’s time to be quiet now and go back to sleep.”
I turned on the sound machine and the ocean waves calmed us both back to sleep. But Leo talked about the owl for days. Who knew that his 3 year-old brain would be so curious and so afraid of owls?
Our fears, our worries, especially in the darkness of the night are unreasonable. We know this, but nevertheless, the threat feels real.
How do you listen to the owls?
My presence will go with you and I will give you rest.
Life has been a challenge for many these days. I’ve adopted the mantra “We Can Do Hard Things” from Glennon Doyle. Because we can, and we do. But today, Ramona suggests we reflect on celebrations. I have a list that includes celebrations big and small.
A family wedding! It’s always joyful to spend time with family. Our family (including all my children and grands) gathered in Seattle, Washington a few weeks ago for the wedding of my niece. The setting was on the Puget Sound facing the Olympic Mountains at sunset. Six days later my sister-in-law brought me to a beach nearby the wedding location as I recovered from Covid. I celebrate beauty, beach, fresh air, and family love!
Me on Puget Sound, Ballard, WA.Doctors Joey and Claire Nelson
2. Flowers are blooming! My friend and former student Jennifer and her husband grow fields of sunflowers and hold “You Pick” days. (Petite Anse Farm) I took my grandson Thomas “Tuffy” on Sunday morning (This was our church service) and picked a bucket of sunflowers. Thomas enjoyed having his own pair of scissors and feeding the chickens with Farmer Andy. I celebrate summer, flowers, and farmers who adore curious toddlers.
Thomas and bucket of sunflowersSunflowers in a blue vase
3. I was absent the last week of school. My colleague next door, Erica, packed up all the books on my shelves (I have a lot of books!) to prepare for summer cleaning. I went to check on things on Monday and was met with this amazing surprise. Also my principal’s daughter, who is 10 going on 11, was there to help with “Tuffy” while I did a few more things. I celebrate the kindness and consideration of colleagues and teaching in a school with this welcoming environment.
4. My friend and unofficial spiritual director Ellen sends me daily quotes. I am amazed how many times the quote she sends hits the exact right spot. Last week when I was recovering she sent me this list. Just what I needed. I celebrate the spiritual guidance of others who give us strength when we need it.
Today’s Spiritual Thursday Round-up is with Susan Koehler.
You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best you have to give.
–Eleanor Roosevelt
This month’s spiritual journey topic is from Susan Koehler, abundance. At this time in my grief, I’m aware of the abundance of people who care about me. I have received cards and flowers, texts and messages of love and support. These expressions are good, well-meaning, thoughtful yet sometimes difficult to accept. I’m much more comfortable on the giving end rather than receiving.
Susan offers a poem on her post today, one that can be used as a mentor text. This kind of exercise often helps me say what I mean to say without having to decide on the form. Last week during #verselove on Ethical ELA, Jessica Wiley offered a mentor text by Eloise Greenfield titled By Myself.
I worked through this prompt a few times and would like to share this draft today.
By Myself after Eloise Greenfield
When I’m by myself and I close my eyes, I’m a running river everchanging, yet steady in its way to go. I’m a scent of yellow. I’m a half-filled cup of tea. I like to sit alone with me. I grip myself in I’m a string of violin, time unfolding, worth gentle holding. I’m a space for filling up again. I open my eyes, and find myself in me.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Every first Thursday I join a group of bloggers writing around a spiritual topic. Today, Ruth is the host, and she chose ashes as the topic. Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. I am Episcopalian and attend an old historical church that was built by slaves in the mid 1800’s. I’ve attended this church for close to 40 years. In the last year, my friend Annie has taken the position of priest in charge. She is the first female priest in the history of our parish. Annie’s compassion and her ability to be present in the moment comforts me, even when she was marking my forehead with a smudge of ash and saying, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”
Impermanence. We are not here forever. It’s not the most joyful thing to embrace. But in understanding and accepting my impermanence, I can be present in the moment. I can feel the soot on my forehead and touch the bread of life and know that I am loved.
The sign of the cross in ashes is the same gesture the priest makes with oil at baptism, saying “You are marked as Christ’s own forever.” No one can take away my belonging to God. Some days, especially during Lent, I need to sit with this belonging and be okay with who I am. I am enough.
Welcome to Wednesday again. Time to take a minute to observe, breathe, and write. This week’s photo is one I took of balancing stones I’ve placed in a front flower bed. I gathered the stones from a labyrinth at Solomon House, our church’s outreach mission. The labyrinth was not being used and there were some maintenance issues, so the board decided to dismantle it. I feel the stones still have spiritual significance, so I stacked them. The literal term is cairn.
Balancing Stones, by Margaret Simon
For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. Romans 12:4-5
What are your gifts? How do you balance gifts and beauty and time? Will you ever find peace of mind? Look to the stones. Together they form one balanced structure. It’s possible.
Margaret Simon
Please share a snippet of a poem/ thoughts in the comments. Encourage other writers with comments.
Today’s Round-up for Spiritual Thursday posts is at Linda Mitchell’s site, A Word Edgewise.
I like to buy flowers. When I go to the grocery store, I often put a bouquet of flowers in my basket. I consider it rescuing them from certain death. Sometimes I find someone to give them to and other times, I cut them and place them in a vase for my husband and me to enjoy. Flowers just make life better.
Colorful roses from Walmart
The other day my neighbor shouted from her doorway, “Don’t go! I want to show you something.”
She brought out the amaryllis bulb I had place on her doorstep around Christmas time. It was blooming, a beautiful white double blossom.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she cried. “Do you want it back?”
“Of course not. It’s meant for you to enjoy.”
“I do love flowers, you know.”
Heart card collage by Margaret Simon
What is in your heart today? Love, gratitude, grief? It’s all there. Take time today to hold your own heart with compassion. Buy yourself flowers.
To end this post, I want to share Avalyn’s heart poem. This was not my doing. She saw it in a book (Sharon Creech’s Love That Dog) that you can make a poem into a shape, so she wanted to try it. I showed her a quick YouTube video, and she created her own.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 