Messages

  • What is retirement for?

    “Six and one-half years into retirement, I ask: what is retirement for? The signposts around me are inadequate and the expectations ill- defined at best. The advice available is of the kind that says, ‘Start saving early so you’ll have enough money for what you want.’ ‘Watch your health so you’ll be able to do what you want.’ ‘Here are the 20 best places to live if you want to play golf, or fish, or enjoy the weather.’ ‘Do this or do that so you can leave to your heirs what you have worked so hard to accumulate.’ ‘Don’t be a burden to your children or interfere in their lives.’ ‘Get a hobby.’ ‘Volunteer.’ None of these seemed to come close to answering the question that opened for me: ‘What is retirement for?'”

  • Transmuting loneliness into solitude

    “The most effective workshop for learning how to hallow one’s diminishments is the faithful practice of contemplative prayer…. Loneliness, which is a negative experience, can be transmuted into solitude, which is a positive blessing. Loneliness of itself debilitates. Solitude builds up, affords a conscious setting in which significant growth in the life of the Spirit can take place. Solitude is a gift of time without accompanying distraction, an opportunity to keep company with one’s own soul. It is where the Holy Spirit can help one harness one’s own cross in such a way that it can be carried without too great strain. It is what St. Paul called, ‘the life which is hid with Christ in God.'”

  • What comfort really means

    “Sometimes religion appears to be presented as offering easy cures for pain: have faith and God will mend your hurts; reach out to God and your woundedness will be healed. The Beatitude ‘Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted’ can be interpreted this way too, but the Latin root of the word ‘comfort’ means ‘with strength’ rather than ‘at ease’. The Beatitude is not promising to take away our pain; indeed the inference is that the pain will remain with us. It does promise that God will cherish us and our wound, and help us draw a blessing from our distressed state.”

  • What to do when sleep forsakes you

    “The ability to sleep may well forsake us, leaving us wakeful for two or three hours in those darkest and most interminable hours of the night, say from two to five. This can be a real affliction: we can toss and turn and try angrily to fall asleep again. Or it can be an opportunity…”

  • I need more time for inner stillness

    “As I grow older, I seem to need more time for inner stillness…. This can happen in the midst of daily chores or when walking in a crowd or riding in a train. It means being still, open, reflective, holding within myself the crucible of joy and pain of all the world, and lifting it up to God.”

  • It is so delicious to be done with things

    “I am convinced it is a great art to know how to grow old gracefully, and I am determined to practise it… I always thought I should love to grow old, and I find it even more delightful than I thought. It is so delicious to be done with things, and to feel no need any longer to concern myself much about earthly affairs… I am tremendously content to let one activity after another go, and to await quietly and happily the opening of the door at the end of the passage-way, that will let me in to my real abiding place.”

  • Attend to what love requires of you

    “Every stage of our lives offers fresh opportunities. Responding to divine guidance, try to discern the right time to undertake or relinquish responsibilities without undue pride or guilt. Attend to what love requires of you, which may not be great busyness.”

  • Each morning is new now

    “Each morning is new now. I wake to the inner music of thanks for the dear gift of life and with eager plans for the uses of the day. The first sound I hear, whether a flock of chirping birds, or the whispering wind, or of traffic with its urgency, is dear. The growing light is an omen, and a good one. Thoughts crowd in, and the mind’s wheels begin their busy turning like those of the cars and trucks out on the main road.”

  • How to measure your experiences

    “We must be confident that there is still more ‘life’ to be ‘lived’ and yet more heights to be scaled. The tragedy of middle age is that, so often, men and women cease to press ‘towards the goal of their high calling’. They cease learning, cease growing; they give up and resign from life. As wisdom dawns with age, we begin to measure our experiences not by what life gives to us, not by the things withheld from us, but by their power to help us to grow in spiritual wisdom.”

  • Your one wild and precious life

    Who made the world? / Who made the swan, and the black bear? / Who made the grasshopper? / This grasshopper, I mean— / the one who has flung herself out of the grass, / the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, / who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down— / who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

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