Sunday, November 15, 2009

Times Past

A week ago I attended the Wake and Funeral of a wise and humble woman, a Sinsinawa Dominican Sister. Her life was a blessing and example for many. As her friends shared their memories, a similar story emerged. Over the years, at critical times, a manila envelope would arrive by mail from her. The contents in each envelope were similar, but geared to the specific needs of the recipient. Always the envelope contained a beautifully penned personal letter, with words that spoke directly to the heart and needs of the person, a devotional booklet, and several wisdom quotes. Each of us commented that we kept all correspondence and that it continues to nourish us.

It caused me to ponder the value of letter writing. Today most of my communication is through email messages. Brief telephone calls, but usually only to confirm things previously discussed. I learn most about my friends and family from their Face book pages or Blogs. On rare occasions I enjoy their company over a leisurely lunch, but these are hard to fit in the schedule. Letter writing, almost never!

My husband keeps in his file, maybe as a reminder of bygone days, a letter written from his great grandparents in NJ to his grandparents in MO. It was 1858 and the address read: “St. Louis below Alton on the other side of the great river.” Both the contents of the letter and the mailing address cause us to reflect on the length to which family and friends went to stay in touch with one another.

In her book Refuge, Terry Tempest Williams writes, “Our correspondences show us where our intimacies lie. There is something very sensual about a letter. The physical contact of pen to paper, the time set aside to focus thoughts, the folding of the paper into the envelope, licking it closed, addressing it, a chosen stamp, and then the release of the letter to the mailbox – are all acts of tenderness. And it doesn’t stop there. Our correspondences have wings – paper birds that fly from our house to yours – flocks of ideas criss-crossing the country. Once opened, a connection is made. We are not alone in the world.”

As we look back in history and literature we see how much of a person’s life and relationship has been shared with us through letters sent to and received from lovers, friends, family and colleagues, much that would have otherwise been lost. Centuries of persons encouraged by the gentle or challenging words of a mentor. Will our emails, web pages and blogs offer such tender or penetrating insights?

It has been years since I shared correspondence of any significance with anyone. I manage an occasional card, a once a year duplicated Christmas letter (although last year I didn’t even manage that), and at times a brief note of thanks, encouragement or condolence. I enjoy the communication I have via technology it fits my lifestyle, but I wonder what I might be missing from a written page that can be read over and over, folded neatly, tucked away and cherished.

This topic I think requires more reflection

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Reflections




On October 5, 2009 on our way home from Vermont we stopped in Hyde Park, NY. We had several reasons for stopping, but I had one personal desire and that was to visit the grave of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. This desire stemmed from my increasing awareness that he was one of the first "saints" who awakened me to the nature of the universe, the sacredness of all creation and the profound need to integrate this knowledge into daily living. As the years unfolded others left their imprint, Aldo Leopold, Loren Eisley, Rachel Carson, Thomas Berry, to name only a few.


From age 25 to 62 I was pretty much unconscious. I was busy with family, career and keeping my head above water. I had fortunately integrated much of their teaching into my life but I am ashamed to say without honoring my mentors or I fear even acknowledging their influence. I think sometimes I might even have considered my concern for the environment, healthy eating, support of local food production, recycling, you name it, to have been from my own brilliance. When I felt like a lonely voice railing against consumerism I failed to connect my concern with the fruits of wisdom I had acquired in my reading years.


This All Saints, All Souls I want to honor those who formed me (and many others) by their scholarship, passion and tireless work to protect and preserve our universe. They have left us with knowledge, insight and vision to guide our future. They have guided and inspired those who will continue to challenge us.


As I stood in the twilight beside the grave of Teilhard de Chardin I was blessed by the beauty that surrounded me. Tucked away on the grounds of the CIA the cemetery is nestled in a peaceful wooded setting overlooking the Hudson River. I felt a profound sense of communion not only with the spirit of Chardin, but with others who had visited and left small tokens of grateful respect. One made a deep connection with me, and it is fitting that I close with this image on this day - the chambered nautilus. The spiral of life.
Simeon the New Theologian wrote: "The saints in each generation are joined to those who have gone before, and are filled like them with light to become a golden chain in which each saint is a separate link, united to the next by faith, works and love."
I remember also on this day Thomas Berry who died this year, may his "Great Work" continue.
A few lines from "Autumn Evening Psalm" printed in the Fall Forest letter of Shantivanam http://www.shantivanam.com/
Wrapping this day with prayer,
may I rest in peace with you,
a dress rehearsal for the deepest sleep of peace,
eternal rest.