Fr. Thomas Keating uses Adam and Eve to teach about finding God rather than chasing false happiness. It’s a spiritual journey, and the good news is that if you are over 80 there is an accelerated course.

My good friend Bill Brown writes of visiting his wife through the nursing home window during the pandemic. Tears flow only after.

Two extraordinary books about loss and sorrow have been added to my bookshelf. I recommend The Smallest Lights in the Universe by Sara Seager, and Sanctuary: A Memoir by Emily Rapp Black. Even if you are not in grief, the writing will bring tears of appreciation.

Recently, I have enlarged my meditation practice to include Lectio Divina, meditating on a sacred text, and Visio Divina, meditating on images. It’s moving, and easy to learn.

After her partner of four decades died, Mary Oliver wrote a remarkable short book of poems. It ends with “Thirst” and epilogue asking God for a little more time to get better at prayer.

We honor our war dead but tend to forget those lost to pandemic. Geri Demasi and Pastor Karen Sapio are collaborating on a requiem to express our lament and honor those we have lost.

Here are some prayers and two invitations to mark Good Friday. Our usual Friday morning meditation will meet at 8am and then at 3 pm we will mark the day around the Claremont Presbyterian Church labyrinth.

Our meditation group has been meeting online for several months now, and we are connected to a world of contemplative practices through our partner, Meditation Chapel. Here is how to access other meditation groups associated with them.

I am writing this on what would have been my wife’s 80th birthday, as I try to find joy in the midst of sorrow. Poetry helps and promises an unexpected blessing.

People want to be heard. Listening is foundational to understanding others and the Holy Spirt.

Today I revisit the performance art project developed by Elizabeth Turk and performed by the residents and staff of Mt. San Antonio Gardens. It was intended to display resilience among the elders, and over the last weeks since the love of my life died mine has been sorely tested. The post closes with a Lovesong that I read at here memorial service.

Father Thomas Keating maintains that Centering Prayer is easy—no wrong way to do it. Still, he provides some advice about how to approach it practice. “Practice” is the key word here. Engaging in Centering Prayer makes one batter at it.

Fr. Thomas Keating popularized Centering Prayer. His calm demeanor disguises the extent to which he took risks in opening up the world of contemplatives and mystics to ordinary folk like us. In doing so, Keating also asks that we take risks: to connect with an ancient Christian practice, to put in the time and effort to create a meditative practice for ourselves, and to risk inviting others.

Richard Rohr wants us to dance with the Trinity, and it with us, to create what he calls a radical relatedness. He is among my go to theologians, and his Falling Upwards, a spirituality for the second half of live, has been influential in my life. A link to a Rohr speech included in my post.

This week, the residents of Mt. San Antonio Gardens, marched, danced, swam, and paraded with brightly colored umbrellas as symbols or resilience in tough times. The results will become an artistic spectacle. The event has already provided a bit of joy and hope.

As I have demonstrated many times, I would be a horrible monk, but after reading St. Benedict on the Freeway, I fashioned my version of the Hours. I don’t always keep them, but aspirations are a good thing.

Years ago, John Najarian gave me a copy of St. Benedict on the Freeway, a guide to modifying the Hours for modern use. I’ve found it most helpful.

Our weekly meditation is now online. Here is how it works. And a concluding thought about God and politics.

One of my first attempts at being contemplative was met by instruction to contemplate my daily work. “Pray your diary,” or calendar in American English.