Daily Dose (April 21 – 24)
TUESDAY APRIL 21 — There are two places we need to go often.
A place that heals you.
And a place that inspires you.
Both places embrace the permission (the invitation) to show up. To this life. To this day. To be here now. Because we know that we bring the gift of enough. To spill light where we can, in a world where darkness is real.
“My mantra this year has been the Hebrew words, Lev Basar, which means ‘a heart of flesh,’ from the biblical verse, ‘I will take from you a heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.’” Thank you, Rabbi Dr. Ariel Burger.
Sometimes we wonder if we want that heart of flesh. It can be easily wounded. Or broken. And when that happens, we assume it implies limitation and weakness. And we wonder if we are “enough”.
It is then we need to hear Bryan Stevenson’s affirmation, “Our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion. We have a choice. We can embrace our humanness, which means embracing our broken natures and the compassion that remains our best hope for healing.”
I’m grateful to have been recently introduced to the book, “Theo of Golden”.
“Theo, I appreciate that you’re such a sensitive man. You have a tender heart.”
“Not tender, Asher. Broken. My expertise in sadness is hard-earned. But I realize more and more that it is a gift. Living with sadness, accepting it, is easier than trying to pretend it isn’t there. It is another of life’s great mysteries that sadness and joy can coexist so compatibly with one another. In fact, I wonder if, on this side of heaven, either one can be complete without the other.”
“You don’t strike me as a sad man, Theo. If you are, you’re good at disguising it.”
As if to prove the truth of Asher’s observation, Theo grinned. The resident sparkle in his eyes for to the surface. Gleamed.
“Thank you. I hope it’s true. There is no virtue in advertising one’s sadness. But there is no wisdom in denying it either. And there is the beautiful possibility that great love can grow out of sadness if it is well-tended. Sadness can make us bitter or wise. We get to choose.”
I embrace two truths here. One is the gift of seeing and embracing the beauty inside, even in our brokenness.
And two, the affirmation to see that beauty in one another, with the affirmation that we are indeed connected, and on this journey—yes pilgrimage—together.
I loved reading this, from Crazy Horse (renowned Oglala Lakota leader), “I salute the light within your eyes where the whole universe dwells. For when you are at that center within you and I am in that place within me, we shall be one.”
On the pilgrimage each one of us walks, we are fueled by our inherent value. Those places of beauty, creativity, resilience, imagination, courage and humor. And kindness. Those places of healing. And places of inspiration.
Today, a life-giving day (for healing and inspiration) around Glendalough, Ireland, absorbing the history and gifts from the life and inspiration—and pilgrimage—of St. Kevin, at the remains of Glendalough Monestary. “The monastery at Glendalough was founded by St. Kevin in the 6th century. Kevin (or Chaoimhin – the fair-begotten) was born in 498 into a noble family living in what is now West Wicklow. He studied for the priesthood in Cill na Manach (Kilnamanagh) and after being ordained set out to find his calling.
Kevin came to Glendalough to follow his dream which was to find God in solitude and prayer. He chose to live by the shore of the upper lake, taking for his hermitage an artificial cave on the south side of the lake about 30 feet above the water which was originally a Bronze Age tomb. Kevin lived the life of a hermit in his cave for seven years. The legends and stories handed down to us highlight his significant personal qualities. Primary among these was his love of nature and deep respect for all created things. It seems he had an extraordinary closeness to nature and found his companions in the animals and birds around him. Legend also tells us he lived a very simple life, wearing only animal skins, sleeping on stones and eating very sparingly. Kevin soon became known as a holy man and others came to Glendalough to seek his advice, to be healed and to follow his way of life. Gradually, small monastic communities were established, including a walled settlement near the lakeshore now called Reefert Church. Kevin’s fame as a teacher and holy man spread far and wide. Over time, the monastic settlement at Glendalough grew to become one of the great spiritual centres of Christianity in Ireland, flourishing for a thousand years after St. Kevin’s death. Kevin’s story is often referred to as a journey from solitude to community.” (Thank you, Glendalough Hermitage Center)
WEDNESDAY APRIL 22 —
Photo… Some of the remains of Glendalough Monastery, featuring the tower. The monastery at Glendalough, Ireland was founded by St. Kevin in the 6th century. The tower had many uses such as beacons to guide pilgrims from afar, storehouses, lookouts and places of refuge in times of attack. They were also used as bell towers. Their Irish name is Cloig-theach meaning bell-tower…
