Looking through some old journals today as I work on a project, I came across this, from my 2016 Silent Retreat at the Jesuit Center:
“A brilliant moment. A brilliant and shining moment. Yesterday evening as I was intently collaging in the Ignatian Room in the basement, two women (Catholic sisters) ‘pssss-d’ at me from the doorway. They needed help to figure out their room and how to get settled, and so I broke my silence and directed them where to go. Pleasant connection.
Just now, I saw them coming in from packing their car, so I went to talk to them. (I feel a little shaky-giddy yet with the dearness and synchronicity of it.) They, too, are/have been educators. Sisters Mary Clare and Bridget, Sisters of Mercy from Dallas, PA.
They embraced me, embraced my story. They said that they will add me and my students into their evening Centering Prayers. They said they will send me the Energy of the Universe. They said that there are no chance encounters, no coincidences.
They kissed me and embraced me and blessed me. Oh marvelous world, that has such people in it.”
I remember them and their love so clearly. Indeed, there are no coincidences, no chance encounters. How will I, how will you, bless and embrace those we meet–with such purposeful blessing from the Universe?
Today’s Prompt on Poetic Asides is to write a Lucky Number poem. My thirteen lines have thirteen syllables each. I might call the form thirteen squared.
Thirteen white pebbles in a woven nettle basket. Thirteen striped feathers floating on the gentle spring breeze. Thirteen tiny minnows circling in a shallow creek.
You’ve drawn the Death card, which is also Transformation. One cycle is ending; another is beginning.
Ouroboros, Jormundgand, and Damballa Wedo: Whatever you call it, the World Serpent eats its tail, delineating a universe, shaping a world, separating the outer space from the inner space.
Don’t take no as your final answer. Don’t give up now. The hardest push comes just before the moment of birth. The final moment of surrender to the process is the moment that the light of the new world shines in.
For instance, the crocus and anemone
have leaked past the bricks
that line the edge of the bed.
For instance, the wind.
For instance, those people
blew in through the door,
climbed all those flights of stairs,
and sat down to tell me their stories.
For instance, it has taken me
three days to clear my yard of branches.
For instance, this joy
wanders into the house
even when the doors are closed
against the last blast of winter.
Gratitude List: 1. Sometimes it seems like you have to get attached to Plan B in order for the tricksy Universe to commit to making Plan A happen. I am grateful for today’s full schedule (Plan A), and a project to do another day (Plan B). I don’t mean to disparage the Universe by this–it keeps one on one’s toes, eh?
2. Crocus and anemone leaking all over the yard.
3. Hey, that snow was pretty! No, I never thought I would use those two words in a sentence again, either. At least not this soon.
4. Reiki tomorrow
5. The web of interconnection. How the cards you draw have messages for me, too.