I thought I was prepared for a week’s retreat on the historic island of Iona, after all that I had read about it and all the photos and virtual tours I had seen. But when I caught my first sight of its eastern shore from the ferry on June 7, 2025, it took my breath away. And as soon as I set foot on this island, all my plans of how I would spend my time there flew away. At last I knew the meaning of a “thin” place, for it drew me like a powerful, loving magnet, demanding my undivided attention. The garden ruins of the nunnery, built around 1200 CE, immediately became my favorite spot, and I returned there every morning of my stay. She became my spiritual dwelling place, speaking to me as if I were one of her long lost daughters returning home. 

Iona Nunnery at First Light

Welcome, pilgrim.
Lay down your burdens with your luggage.
Neglect your phone as you have neglected quiet.
Rise early to step into the swell of birdsong.
Be lifted on its crescendo.

Bundle up against the cold so that you can sit in my lap
and feel the warmth of my mother’s heart.
Pause in the doorway of my stone garden
whose only roof is the blue of heaven,
inhaling the virgin earth’s bracing air.
Witness my walls, how a ruin can defy its label
and be the womb of life.

My sparrows have no fear of you;
they hop to your feet in friendly greeting.
Swifts skim past your face like dragonflies.
They know here a home of freedom
and refuge now extended to you.

Quit talking and just listen.
Hear the sweetness of the distant lamb calls.
Stand with the angels to face the newborn sun,
rolling out its sparkling gold carpet across the waters.
Take in the layers of island silhouettes,
each further shore a softer shade,
forest green to lavender.

I see you there, you silly, reaching for your pocket,
your disappointment at finding it empty.
(As if you could capture the dawn!)
Better to just be here for a little while.
Use your own two eyes. Rest now,
your only clock a living cuckoo
sheltered in a sycamore.

The island has burst into bloom with the joy of your arrival!
Stay here in my embrace a moment longer.
Do not go back inside, dear one, till I have kissed
your wee head good morning.
This is my blessing, my affection, my promise.

You are always welcome here.

Celeste Boudreaux is a spiritual director, writer and poet. In her spiritual direction work, she specializes in incorporating creative arts such as SoulCollage® for self-discovery and healing. Stemming from her own history of childhood trauma, she often works with adults addressing their own childhood wounds. She is the author of Sherry and the Butterfly Lady, a novel about a damaged nine-year-old girl’s journey of healing through an unlikely friendship with a mysterious old woman and their unfolding conversation in the form of original fairy tales. 

You can learn more about Celeste’s spiritual direction and other offerings at Luminous-heart.com. For more about her book or to sign up for her free monthly poetry blog, visit her at CelesteBoudreaux.com.

The post Monk in the World Guest Post: Celeste Boudreaux appeared first on Abbey of the Arts.

For Grace in the Ordinary*

Holy One who shimmers even in the mundane,
open my eyes with gratitude for your sustenance
in pipes and plumbing,
in wires and electricity,
in cups of tea and food in the fridge,
in piles of dishes and laundry.

When dullness and boredom visit,
bless all the quiet in-between moments,
the sunlight journeying across the floor.

Help me to see how the most ordinary
is also extraordinary,
how grace dwells
among the bills to pay
and messages that await reply.

Let my shower each morning become a baptism
and my breakfast a communion,
consecrating each act of daily life.

Let my gratitude pour out
in a holy and vibrant yes
for everything quotidian,
to see even this moment as magnificent.

Dearest dancing monks, artists, and pilgrims,

I ask for your prayers this week as several of our Wisdom Council members are traveling to Ireland for an in-person gathering! Please pray for the safety of all traveling and for the fruitfulness of this time together. We will be holding all of you in our prayers as well. 

This month our featured self-study retreat is Eyes of the Heart: Photography as a Contemplative Practice (companion retreat to the book).

This is an excerpt from the book:  

Mythologist and storyteller Michael Meade says the word “moment” comes from the Latin root momentus, which means to move.  We are moved when we touch the eternal and timeless.  There is a sense of spaciousness in moments.  Art and spiritual practice are how we find this moment of eternity, or even better, how we allow the moment to find us.  There are many moments waiting for us each day, prodding at our consciousness, inviting us to abandon our carefully constructed plans and defenses.  The task of the artist is to cultivate the ability to see these eternal moments again and again.  In this way, we are all invited to become artists.

For me, both art and spirituality are truly about tending to the moments of life.  Listening deeply, holding space, encountering the sacred, touching eternity. For a few seconds we touch time beyond time and in that spacious presence my heart grows wider, my imagination frees, my breath catches, and I am held in awe and wonder. 

We know we have touched this moment when we are moved by something beyond us yet also rising from deep within.  We may be moved to tears or to laughter, or maybe both.  In these moments the particulars of the world open us up to a great expanse.  We suddenly see the other world hidden in the heart of this one.  We may not know exactly why or how, but we know we have been touched and transformed, invited into greater compassion for ourselves and the world. 

One of the great metaphors that appears across spiritual traditions for our deepening life in God is that of awakening.  “Stay awake,” Jesus says to his disciples, “do not go back to sleep.”  The slumber of being human creates a veil between our eyes and the truth of the world around us.  We go back to sleep in many ways, any tools we use to numb ourselves including excessive time online, watching television, overeating, drinking too much, drugs, addiction to workaholism, all distract us from what is most real.  Spiritual practice helps us to stay awake.  Photography as one such practice helps us to cultivate an awakened vision so we really see.

Photography is for me a deeply contemplative practice. I take my camera out into the world and it invites me to slow down and linger over these moments of beauty. It opens me to wonder and delight. I cultivate sacred seeing, my ability to see the world beneath the surface appearance of things.

Seeing even the most ordinary moments of life with graced vision means that we can receive the beauty pulsing at the heart of the world at every turn. 

Use code HEART20 for a 20% discount on our featured self-study retreat – Eyes of the Heart: Photography as a Contemplative Practice (companion retreat to the book).

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, OblSB, PhD, REACE

*Blessing is from Christine’s book A Book of Everyday Blessings: 100 Prayers for Dancing Monks, Artists, and Pilgrims (Ave Maria Press)

The post For Grace in the Ordinary ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess appeared first on Abbey of the Arts.

The garden sanctuary often speaks to the contemplative – the birthplace of Creation with its ancient calling towards beauty, rejuvenation and abundance. Eden becomes a place for the senses and a place for the spirit, an experiential journey to know the One Who Knows Us; which is why so many of us sojourners seek refuge in the sanctuary of the garden space. 

In moments of disequilibrium I flee to the space that caresses my aches, calms my spirit and eases my mind. The magic of the unfurling of the rose or the fresh scent of the pine brings me back to Eden, where the broken become whole. My younger self yearned for this garden space always, and would throw spiritual temper tantrums when life would prevent me from seeking the respite of the rose; however, as I matured I have reclaimed anew that ancient truth proclaimed to us from long ago: your soul is a garden. 

In the garden of my soul I see beauty with my spiritual eyes, even amongst the world of busyness and duties. In my son’s eyes I see the unfurling of joy as he experiences solving a difficult math problem for the first time. The beauty of the freshly clean linen caresses the bed as I tuck it tightly and give thanks for the rest that will happen here later in the evening. Grooming chores bring order and cleanliness to the physical – metaphorical hedges trimmed and weeds pulled to give space for growth and development. 

My soul overflows with the beauty of the garden from within.   

In the garden of my soul I hear the ancient song with my spiritual ears, even amongst the noise of the city. The steady scrape of the spoon on the bottom of the pot becomes The Song of Dusk announcing the turning of the Earth towards sustenance and rejuvenation. The persistent hum of the plane becomes The Hymn of Arrival announcing the reunification of loved ones, whether that union be near or in distant lands. The roar of the motor becomes The Psalm of Provisions proclaiming the approach of our necessities, enabling us to transform house into home. And still, I give thanks, for the garden becomes stagnant without the comings and goings of the chirping birds and the buzzing bees. 

My soul overflows with the rejuvenation of the garden from within.  

In the garden of my soul I feel the presence of the Ancient One, even when fulfilling my obligations as wife, mother and employee. My feet are grounded in the meditation of purpose as I keep my “why” present in all that I think, do and say. My mind is connected to the Spirit as I offer every breath to the One Who Knows Us and trust in the meticulous care that will be granted to me and those whom I love. My soul is in constant conversation with The One Who Knows Us as I engage with my day and make 1,000 tiny decisions that eventually erode my will to reveal who I am meant to manifest. In the nothingness of surrender, trusting assurance forms a river of peace. 

My soul overflows with the abundance of the garden from within. The Ancient Garden reveals itself to us when we claim the present moment as our own. We are not passengers merely reacting to life happening to us, we are sojourners and we choose the path we walk during our visit through this temporal space. This day I claim the beauty of the garden so that I can see the many gifts granted to me; I welcome the opportunities for rejuvenation, whether they are meant for me, or for another; and I surrender to the One Who Knows Us so that I may be filled with abundance.  

Michelle Estep is a Discalced Carmelite Secular and is blessed to be guided towards greater self-knowledge and contemplation by the great Carmelite saints. She delights in tending to her physical garden; however, her personal mission is to bring beauty to the ordinary to help inspire people to cultivate their own spiritual garden from within.

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We celebrate our 20^th anniversary tomorrow!

In honor of this celebration we thought we’d revisit the ways you can connect with our community. 

Have you had a chance yet to engage with our Monk in the World” 8-Day Online Retreat. It’s our gift to you. You’ll receive a daily email to help you integrate the Abbey’s rhythms into your everyday life.

Have you read and signed the Monk Manifesto? By adding your name, you join a global community committed to silence, slow living, and creative expression.

And finally, there are many ways to join the ongoing dance of what we offer here. 

You can connect to our Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks on Facebook to meet kindred spirits.

You can find other monks near you on the Dancing Monks Map. This is a way to connect locally and gather together for kinship and community. 

You can make a commitment to pray with us daily through our Prayer Cycles of morning and evening prayers (if you subscribe to our daily newsletter you get a link to the specific day we are praying with as a community) and join us for Sanctuary, our midday prayers for peace and justice.  

All of the above resources are available as our gift to you.  They are funded by the donations of dancing monks who are able to offer this kind of support. This support also goes to support our generous scholarship programs and keep our fees low.

We warmly welcome you to the prayer services and retreats we offer on our Calendar. (And our programs for 2026-2027 will be available soon!) And get in touch with us if the sliding scale we offer is unaffordable for you, we make financial access a priority. 

Retreats still coming before this program year ends include my Wisdom of Wild Grace 4-Week Writing Retreat, a mini-retreat from beloved Wisdom Council member Richard Bruxvoort Colligan on the psalms, and a mini-retreat from Irish friend Brother Richard Hendrick, OFM, Cap on presence in prayer, along with our May and June prayer services. 

Please join us tomorrow to help us celebrate 20 years! If you are able to make a financial contribution to help sustain our programs we are most grateful. If a donation is beyond your means, we are always grateful when you help to spread the word about the work we do. 

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, OblSB, PhD, REACE

The post Celebrating 20 Years in Community! ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess appeared first on Abbey of the Arts.

Looking out over the majesty of the lake from the Graves of the Leinstermen, I see only one island with pasture or grassland. All other islands on Lough Derg are completely covered in trees. This island, with its proud round tower just visible, is Inis Cealtra, or Holy Island, a magnificent early monastic ruin with a well preserved round tower and the intact ruins of four churches. Cattle still graze on the island and the graveyard is still used by the parishes of east Clare. This monastery and seat of learning was first sacked by the Vikings in the middle of the 9^th century. Brian Boru’s brother, Marcán, was Abbott of the monastery until his death in the early 11^th century.

I have led friends and pilgrims to Inis Cealtra numerous times. I’ve sung Kyrie’s and Salve Regina’s in each of its roofless churches. I’ve gotten to know the only ferryman who has been bringing pilgrims and tourists to the site for decades in his open top boat. Many times I have travelled there with the proverbial ‘fire in my head’ and returned placid, pacified, and relieved. Inis Cealtra is a place of deliverance and redemption for me. Inis Cealtra for me has the genius loci of transformation. As I look down over the lake I imagine the life of the monks who inhabited that island for the better part of a millennium.

I wrote this poem in an attempt to capture an essence of this beacon of history, at the height of its powers…May it be the clarion call to return again to that which you love, ending an exile of self imposition.

Inis Cealtra/ Holy Island

Standing on the shore,
Lough Derg is a glimmering danger.
Stepping into the fishing boat clumsily,
you are the monk ferried home.
Your habits hem wet and heavy,
to the bright torch light
of Inis Cealtra.

Bittersweet is the return to exile.
To leave behind is to be taken in,
and you are part of this island
before ever setting foot
upon it again

Your right hand trails
the water’s warm surface.
Hungry for change, your praying
lately has only enflamed
old ways in your that lurk
like pike that swim
beneath you now
as you cross

Retreat to your holy island
where you begin again.
Returning lighter,
your habits hem
pressed and flowing

Step out of the fishing boat gracefully
the round tower at your back.
Strike out carrying the lightest burden,
transformed from deep inside
and ready for the relief
of love.

Adapted from a post on Mícheál's Substack

Mícheál ‘Moley’ Ó Súilleabháin is a renowned singer, poet, teacher and speaker from Limerick, Ireland. His artistic identity lives on the threshold between things. He co-facilitates retreats and pilgrimages and is the author of the poetry collection Early Music. | MichealoSuill.com and TurasdAnam.com 

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