In the Way of the Monk, Path of the Artist retreat, Te Martin sang a song called The Golden Thread which talks about a spider weaving a golden thread to the “center of your knowing.” My poem derives mainly from the retreat segment which talks about how nature can support the creative process, with Te’s song being part of that segment. However, there are filaments which spring from other sources. For example, at some point in my time with the Abbey, it was suggested that I write a poem of instruction, while the catalyst for the image of the blue heron came from a story I read years ago. Somehow the images kept arriving in a way, which are connected by the “golden thread” of the kinship of all humanity and the kinship of humanity with nature. The poem relates to my contemplative practice in that, with the help of the Abbey, I want to grow in seeing—and in expressing that seeing—with the eyes of my heart and soul. This poem is offered humbly and as a simple gift.

A few small ways to grow in contemplation

Mind the marsh reeds at the edge of the bay.
See the great blue heron atop the green fir.
Break open your heart with the broken.
If possible go to the beach—
Let your feet feel the gray-blue pebbles and the broken pastel shells.
Know the breeze as the breath of God.
Sense the music of your soul. 
Love what is stunted, malnourished, pained and
sometimes full of grit and grime.
Fill the hive of your days with the golden nectar of goodness.
Read Scripture like a love note. 
Bite into the orange apricot and let the juice slide down.
Engage in “useless” wonder.
Watch the white rose of sharon open and close.
Do the same with the day lilies.
Wait on grace as the crops do spring rains.
Treat the silence like manna.
It is holy. Eat of it.

Maryellen Whitaker SSJ is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Philadelphia, Pa. who lives in Mount Airy, a diverse suburb of the city.  A retired teacher, she has taught high school and college English. She loves engaging with the Abbey and with members of her book club.

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Dearest dancing monks, artists, and pilgrims,

This is an adapted excerpt from my book The Love of Thousands: How Angels, Saints, and Ancestors Walk With Us Toward Holiness:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. —Hebrews 12:1

Most religious traditions—such as Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and many indigenous traditions—have some kind of teaching and practice of conscious relationship with ancestors.

When engaging with the ancestors, I believe along with the teaching of the Christian tradition that

• there is some kind of consciousness or awareness that continues beyond death in this world;
• we can be in relationship with the ancestors;
• not all of the dead are fully well (unlike the saints we explored, some ancestors will die in a state of deep unresolved trauma and wounding that is then passed down their generational line); and
• the dead can change and be affected by our actions, and the reverse is true as well.

St. Paul writes in his letter to the Hebrews about the great cloud of witnesses (Heb 12:1–2). They are the ones who inspire us to endure through life’s challenges and find joy, cultivate love, and discover purpose to our days.

There are two main parts to this work. One is to connect with those ancestors who are wise and well and seek their support for our own lives. The second part of the work is to bring healing to the ancestors who are not fully well and working in various ways to bring healing to the family line.

Sandra Easter, a Jungian analyst and author of Jung and the Ancestors, describes the process this way: “Coming into a more conscious relationship with the ancestors is a home coming, a return to origins, to a way of knowing, seeing, and being in relationship with the world that has been and is part of our collective inheritance.” She says that this is what psychologist Carl Jung would have described as “archaic” knowing, drawing on our ancient roots from those for whom connecting to the ancestors would have been a natural and expected part of daily living.

In her book This Here Flesh, Cole Arthur Riley writes, “I believe in a spiritual realm that is so enmeshed with the physical that it is imperceptible. I believe in the mysterious nearness of my ancestors, but I believe they are located at the site of my own blood and bone.” The ancestors are already with us. Calling upon them simply opens our awareness to their presence. Prayer and ritual mean developing a relationship with them and listening for their wisdom in our lives.

Consider spending some time each morning opening your senses to all the ways you might experience a connection to your ancestors. Keep a journal by your bed and pay attention to your dreams. We may receive a message while we sleep or be offered a symbol to help connect to us. Notice the synchronicities of everyday life—those moments of meaningful coincidences—and keep track of them as well. We can easily dismiss a subtle moment of connection to a loved one who has passed on or to the wider body of ancestors. If a song starts playing, you encounter a meaningful symbol, or someone says something to you that brings a sense of deeper knowing, start trusting these as moments of connection. The more we dismiss them, the fainter the connection becomes. The more we cultivate an honoring of these kinds of experiences, the more we notice them happening. Often when a synchronicity happens we will feel a kind of tingling sensation or chill and we will sense something magical or otherworldly is happening. When this happens, pause and receive. Notice when your mind wants to undermine what happened.

Spend significant time in nature and listen for the wisdom of trees and animals. I have often had experiences of encounter with each of my parents in creation. From coyotes to butterflies, cuckoo birds to rainbows, these moments gave me a sense of deep connection.

Theologian Patrick Reyes describes intuition as “the expression of guides and spirits. In many ways, the wisdom and spirit of my ancestors live in my very bones. The sum of my experiences, to borrow from [adrienne maree brown] makes up my intuition. . . . To cultivate your intuition, slow down.” He goes on to write about his grandmother who witnessed to this way of being for him: “It was in her ability to slow us down and draw on the deep ancestral wisdom she carried in her very body. Intuition is not another form of problem solving. It draws on the love that threads its way through generations.”

Ritual has a way of bridging the gap between the visible and invisible worlds and between the conscious and unconscious knowing. We can open ourselves to communication from our grandmothers and grandfathers. What we work on consciously through ritual and prayer has an impact in the world of the ancestors. Ritual is the intentional cultivation of relationship, but communication happens in spontaneous ways as well.

Engage the arts, movement, and poetry in service to this quest because they speak the intuitive language. We are not concerned with making beautiful things, only authentic expressions of the stirrings of the soul; in the process, beauty will emerge in its own form. We are calling upon the love that is our inheritance and makes itself available to us through intuitive connection to those who came before us. The arts are a way we can feel our way forward, tending to the unique shape of our ancestral wisdom. 

The companion self-study retreat to this book is on sale this month for 20% off with coupon code LOTH20. It has recordings of weekly webinars with Christine along with meditations and guest teacher conversations each week and dance prayers from Betsey Beckman. 

Our featured book this month for the Lift Every Voice prayer cycle is Ancestors: Those Who Bless Us, Curse Us, and Hold Us by Rev. William H. Lamar IV. It is a really beautiful and powerful book and Claudia Love Mair and I had a wonderful conversation with the author which you can watch or listen to here. In Ancestors, Bill reminds us that the ancestral guides we call upon help us to dream and sing our way into new realities: 

“The ancestral guides we need were not maintenance persons. They were architects and builders. They imagined. They designed. They built. They composed songs that live in our bodies and spirits, which we have yet to sing.” 

Cultivating Seeds of Liberation prayer cycle

Today we release the video podcasts for Day 6: Joy from the Cultivating Seeds of Liberation Prayer Cycle. Here is the opening prayer for morning written by Cassidhe Hart:

God our Mother, Host, and Friend, open our hearts to receive your invitation to the feast you have spread before us. Nourish us with the assurance that we belong at this table. When we walk through shadowed valleys, fill us with subversive joy and with the promise that oppression and brokenness do not have the last word. Meet us in our hunger for flourishing and connection.

Pray with the video podcasts for Day 6: Joy here.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, OblSB, PhD, REACE

*Reflection and blessing are from The Love of Thousands: How Angels, Saints, and Ancestors Walk With Us Toward Holiness by Christine Valters Paintner (Ave Maria Press) 

Image ©️Christine Valters Paintner

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During The Earth Monastery Retreat in the Spring of 2026, I began to realize how attached I was to the trees in my yard, most especially to the huge old oak tree in my backyard.  It’s full of birds and songs and squirrels and chipmunks.  But what I most appreciate about the tree is the sound of the wind as it moves through the branches. When asked to do a rewrite of Psalm 122, I wrote St. Oak.

St. Oak 

I give thanks to thee O Creator
For where Thou hast placed me
I stand here in the same spot
Day after day
Year after year
Observing my world

Thou hast blessed me
With so much to see
I watch the cardinals, nuthatches and chickadees
And I feel like I can fly
The squirrels scurry up my trunk
And I feel like I am running with them

The sun paints glorious pictures 
Through my branches
And the moon comforts me
At night
The wind sings me a different song
Each day
The seasons change
And I am here 
For it all

I give thanks to thee O Creator
For where Thou hast placed me 
I stand here in the same spot
Day after day
Year after year 
In love with my world 

I rewrote the Psalm 23 based on the myriad of ways that God had surprised me, especially in the second half of life.

The Lord is my Surprise Party

The Lord is my surprise party

He takes my breath away 
With each unique sunrise

He thrills me with the colorful birds
At the bird feeder

He sings me a song through the pine trees 
When I least expect it

He blocks the traditional path
Then blows me away
When my life takes a new 
And exciting direction

When I think I know what I need
He finds me the opposite
Against all odds

He opens doors 
That I never expected to walk through

He enriches my life 
In ways I didn't anticipate

Surely
More breathtaking moments
And amazing things
Lie ahead of me

The Lord shall surprise me
My whole life long 

*The Earth Monastery retreat is available as a self-study retreat.

Anne Donze Gerber is a flutist, collage artist, poet, paper doll artist, and retired Kindergarten teacher.  Her artwork has been featured in DOLLS magazine, Doll Castle News, and Good Folk Magazine.  She also enjoys photography and birdwatching.  Anne lives with her husband, Mitch, in Southeast Missouri. 

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Tomorrow I start teaching a 4-week e-course on practicing with medieval women mystics for the lovely team at Spirituality & Practice. Teresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich, Mechtild of Magdeburg, and Hildegard of Bingen will be our focus and each week brings a set of practices to help encounter their wisdom and deepen into our relationship with the holy. 

The period of time in Europe, especially between c. 1000 and c. 1600, saw a flourishing of mystical experiences in both men and women. We have the stories and texts composed by many of these women left to us as a window into their experience of the divine and as wisdom passed down to us. I have been in love with many of these women, and studied them, listening for their whispers across the centuries, for over 20 years. 

The longing of the mystic is for an encounter with the Beloved, the divine presence, the sacred ground of love. This is an ongoing desire and project because the Mystery the mystic seeks is inexhaustible. There will always be dimensions of God that remain mysterious to us even in the midst of revelation. Nevertheless, the longing is for experience, encounter, and intimacy. 

The modern mystic Thomas Merton described it this way in his book Contemplative Prayer:

“In the ‘prayer of the heart’ we seek first of all the deepest ground of our identity in God. We do not reason about dogmas of faith or ‘the mysteries.’ We seek rather to gain a direct existential grasp, a personal experience of the deepest truths of life and faith, finding ourselves in God’s truth.”

This desire usually begins with a sense of awakening to something bigger at the heart of our lives and the world. This can come gradually or abruptly. Many of these women mystics describe a moment in their life when their old life came into conflict with what they were sensing about the divine mystery. They gave away any wealth they had to the poor as they heard a distinct invitation from the Beloved to give themselves over more fully to this way of being. 

Committing to live on the thresholds of life, always reaching across for an encounter with the divine is the life work of these medieval women mystics and they call us to this way of being and praying too. It is their healing grace and their gift to offer back to us. Ultimately, they all describe the ground of our being as Love and call us to practice love in a hurting and often cruel world. I have found these women mystics to be wise and sturdy companions in times that feel so disorienting and disheartening. They keep calling me back to love again and again. 

Join me for Four Gates of Mystical Wisdom: Teresa, Julian, Mechtild, Hildegard hosted by Spirituality & Practice through the month of November. 

Our featured book this month for the Lift Every Voice prayer cycle is Ancestors: Those Who Bless Us, Curse Us, and Hold Us by Rev. William H. Lamar IV. It is a really beautiful and powerful book and Claudia Love Mair and I had a wonderful conversation with Bill which you can watch or listen to here.

In addition, the companion self-study retreat for my book The Love of Thousands: How Angels, Saints, and Ancestors Walk With Us Toward Holiness is on sale this month for 20% off with coupon code LOTH20. It has recordings of weekly webinars with Christine along with meditations and guest teacher conversations each week and dance prayers from Betsey Beckman. 

Cultivating Seeds of Liberation Prayer Cycle

This week we release the video podcasts of morning and evening prayer for Day 5: Peace from our Cultivating Seeds of Liberation Prayer Cycle. Here is one of the prayers of concern written by Jo-ed Tome.

O God, you never tire of offering me your loving arms as a place of refuge, comfort, and peace. Your embrace is a safe dwelling place where my weary heart finds rest and my troubled mind is calmed. Show me the way back to your arms, my home, when the waves crush my spirit and the current drowns my voice. Let me hear your gentle voice that seeps through my bones, keeping me safe amid the doubts and fears. Teach me to trust in your presence and lean on your grace.

Pray with the video podcasts here.

And finally, Simon and I will be leading our monthly prayer service tomorrow honoring the Feast of All Souls with guest musician Deirdre Ní Chinnéide. We will be entering into a time of remembrance together. Whatever your faith background, you are most welcome. 

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, OblSB, PhD, REACE

Image: Paid License with Canva

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Writing has been one of my early morning contemplative practices for years. This particular form came when my partner Kevin was diagnosed with cancer. As we navigated these new waters of illness and the medical system, a blessing would often come through my pen in the wee hours of the predawn morning, before he awoke. When he did rise, we’d sit in our usual morning spot at the east window, and I would read it to him. His eyes would be closed. I’d breathe into the silence, then he would open them and, with a gentle gaze, say, “Again, please.”  I’d read it once more. Often, tears spilled from all four of our hazel eyes, and we’d sit in the pool for a bit before setting off into the day. Kevin died September 14th, 2024. We lived and breathed these blessings, held these words as trails to wander and as a form of prayer and contemplation about living and dying, and I still do.

For Living Close to Death

When the clock of time stops
And “all the time in the world”
Becomes the truth “we never know”.
Permanence is shattered.
Slow time begins.
Living with death on your shoulder invites
A deepening into experiencing life with the lid off.
Temporality a gentle nudge to unfetter your wings.
May slow time enrich and nurture and plump up every cell.
May embracing temporality allow you to live fully,
with every beat of your heart,
and unfurl your precious belonging to the vast universe that abounds.
May relational healing become the sweetest scented,
brightest moon of your days.
May the divinity of the tiny moments
of coming into presence
invoke a cascading symphony
of murmuring birdsong to lift up your soul.
May this be so.

For Surgery

It was a long night. Waiting.
Sleeping wakefulness. And now—
The light quaked and brightened in the pre-op room.
with your banter, laughter, and listening.
Hearts were touched. Smiles were evoked.
Laughter spilled. Memories dreamed in troubled times.
Gifts. Yours. Shine through the cracks.
They become the rolling landscape, the stirring sea,
And the star-spangled sky-scape of the now that is futuring as I write.

What we carry forward in the world of together-ness-ing,
in the wide web of the all that is,
are these precious jewels of connections.
May yours situate them in the burgeoning well-spring of your soul.
May yours untether you from anything that fools you.
May yours be swept up by the southerly winds
And like pink-hued fairy dust spreading—
loving hearts and healing minds break into blossom the world over.
May you know the beauty held in the simple gestures you offer up.
And may you come out the other side in love.

Carol Delmonico is a voracious reader who writes. A wonder-er who wanders through books and ponders deep questions.  She is currently enamored with red poppies, finding their way out of the cracks in the asphalt. Her writing spills from her love and sorrow for our broken and beautiful world.

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