Early this morning, I saw this sign while driving through a small town near Toledo.

The idea of a Speedway mini-mart producing vocations to religious life from a machine made me laugh. So much for the often-messy process of discernment!

Even though the spelling isn’t the same, “Capuchin” (as in the friars) and “cappuccin” (as in the drink that ends with “o”) sounded enough alike in my head to make the connection. I imagined hundreds of friars emerging from Speedways across the country, going into the world to do good.

In the course of what’s been a challenging week, it was great to encounter this bit of fanciful humor. Stuff like this reminds me that the world can offer two seemingly opposite things at the same time–delight and difficulty. It reminds me that it’s important to keep an eye out for delight and allow it to transform me.

What signs have been transformative for you today?

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Join us for a live prayer webcast this evening at 6 p.m. Central Time at aNunsLife.org/live. On Wednesdays at 6 p.m. Central Time, join us for Ask Sister, a live webcast where we take your questions and insights about God, faith and religious life.

Ah, love. It is good, isn’t it! No matter how crazy this day gets commercially, I still get a kick out of giving and receiving “valentines”, seeing little red and pink hearts everywhere, and hearing the sweet stories of valentine celebrations.

As a Catholic Sister, I still enjoy the romanticness of the day, though of course the celebrations are different today than my “pre-nun” days. And, my sense of what love is has evolved over the years too as I’m sure it has for you as well.

Here are a few quotes that speak to me about how I see love now … please share some of your own!

• “Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love and it will decide everything.” – Father Pedro Arrupe, SJ (talk given to a group of religious sisters per Father Kevin F. Burke, SJ)

• “As for what concerns our relations with our fellow men [sic], the anguish in our neighbor’s soul must break all precept. All that we do is a means to an end, but love is an end in itself, because God is love.” – Saint Teresa Benedict of the Cross (Edith Stein) (source unknown)

• “What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.” — Saint Augustine (source unknown)

• “It is not so essential to think much as to love much.” — Saint Teresa of Avila, Interior Castle, Fourth Mansions 1.7)

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Join the A Nun’s Life Community for prayer at 6 p.m. CT in the chat room today.

I was out with friends on New Year’s Eve and they joked saying, you are like the most interesting nun in the world”, a shout-out of course to the clever Dos Equis commercials featuring Jonathan Goldsmith as the Most Interesting Man in the World. I had to laugh because there is some truth in that! Not that I’m particularly interesting (after all, I was in bed by 11 p.m. that night), but there is something about NUN-NESS that is infinitely intriguing and captivating.

It has nothing to do with what we wear, although I did once wear an Easter hat that caused quite a stir. And it has nothing to do with what we do (I have ministered in bicycle stores and bars). I think it has much to do with seeing things and making choices that our society deems crazy and turning them into a blessing.

• making lifelong vows of  obedience, poverty, and celibacy
• making everyday and life decisions in common
• upholding the dignity of the “least” (e.g., the poor, the outcast, the enemy, the oppressed)
• holding secular and sacred not as opposites but as one
• believing that through the cross comes the resurrection

Even as a nun of 10+ years now, I am still wholly compelled by all that is NUN. It is truly an adventure that engages all aspects of my being — mind, body, spirit, memory, hopes, dreams — and is crazy goodness! What is cool is that I find that so many nuns are like this. Just listen to their stories of how they have lived. Read the histories and foundation stories of congregations. What’s not to love?!

As we head into the new year, I encourage you to tap into your inner nun and allow this new year to take on all sorts of awesome adventures that thoroughly engage you.

And in this spirit, “Stay thirsty, my friends!”

P.S. Some advice for the new year …

Photo by eye2eye

But this debate was incredible! I couldn’t stop listening. The four debaters included the great great grandson of Charles Darwin, a prominent rabbi in California, a philosophy professor and author, and a college president and former policy analyst in the Reagan administration.

One of the first statements I heard was that this wasn’t a debate about the existence of God or the rationality or irrationality of faith, but about the human-made phenomenon of religion. Context is soooo important!

Here’s the link to the debate, which is on a program called Intelligence Squared.

After listening to the debate, I came away with more questions than answers regarding whether or not the world is better off without religion. But I deeply appreciate the new insights I gained on both sides of the question. Take a listen and see what you think. Would the world better off without religion?

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Join the A Nun’s Life community for prayer tonight and every weekday at 6 p.m. Central Time at aNunsLife.org/live.

Cute as a Button!

A Nun’s Life is going to the dogs … and the cats, and the chickens, and the hamsters. November 4 is a celebration of our furry, feathery, and scaly friends, and Saint Francis!

During the day, check out the fourth day of our Saints Novena daily blog series featuring Saint Francis of Assisi. (The Saints novena begins on November 1.)

Then in the evening, pray with us and your pets during a live broadcast of Praying with the Sisters. In the comment box below, we invite you to give the name of your pet and mention whether your Fifi is a dog or snake or horse, etc. We’ll bring all the pets by name into prayer during the Litany of Pets. The podcast begins at 6 p.m. CST.

And don’t miss the Pawcast by Chloe the Convent Cat and Friends right after prayer at 6:30 p.m. CST. We need your pets’ help for this one-of-a-kind podcast! Here are super kitties Yuan, Deidre, and Maggie telling you how you can help!

Being the eager beagle that she is, Button got her video in pronto and suggested she be featured to help other pets with their videos. Take it away, Button!

So get your pets into action and help support A Nun’s Life Ministry! For more information or to submit your videos, email the Pawcast Team: … and maybe while the pets are filming their video you can check out how to make a donation to animal-loving, catnip-friendly, biscuit-ready A Nun’s Life Ministry!

The other day, Sister Julie and I were going to a meeting when we passed these two billboards. Please excuse the poor quality of the photo — it’s hard to take a good picture on a busy highway….

The first has the figure of a man standing at the edge of an ocean, his arms upraised, the sun sparkling all around. The words say: “All of the joy. None of the shame.” At the bottom is the name of a Christian ministry called Cornerstone. By itself, the billboard didn’t make much sense to us. But then we saw another billboard, just a few yards away.

It has the picture of a woman with a sexy look on her face. The words say: “All of the liquor. None of the clothes.” The big arrow on the sign points the way to the bar.

Both billboards are targeted to men, but the messages are very different! Why not choose joy and what’s life-giving! Why not respect women and the sacredness of the human body! To me, the heart of Cornerstone’s message is that respect is a two-way street: when we respect ourselves, we can respect others, and vice versa. Respect can free us and lead us to joy. Drinking too much and treating people as objects for our gratification cannot.

I was so impressed with Cornerstone’s billboard that I called the ministry center and talked with one of the pastors there. Pastor Esperanza said that the billboard was a decision of the entire congregation. She explained that it was a way for the church to have a voice in the world: “If we don’t say anything, nothing will be done.”

She also told me about another billboard intervention. In several places around Chicago, a radio station had billboards promoting its morning show. The billboards depicted two men in bed with a woman. The words said something like: “Who do you wake up to in the morning?” A member of the congregation went to executives at the station and explained that her child could not avoid seeing the signs, and she asked them to remove the billboards. The billboards came down.

Although I’m not familiar with Cornerstone’s stance on other areas of faith and life, on the topic of respect and how to take creative action, Cornerstone rocks!!

I’d love to hear stories about the creative things you’ve seen in regard to countering negative messages with positive ones. Please write your comments in the box below.

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Join Sister Maxine and Sister Julie and A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today at 6 p.m. CST (your time zone).

It is time to get your existential ON!

Here’s my question for you: What does it mean for you to be happy?

I know, a nice light question, but I really want to know. So many different ways to respond — a good meal, ontological contentment, a silly joke, world peace — I’m looking forward to hearing the diversity of thoughts and what makes happiness “tick”! Use the comment box below to offer your nuggets of wisdom.

And …. GO!

We welcome NL Community member Marla Thurman as today’s guest blogger.

After 20 years of teaching English, you’d think I’d know better than to use generalizations. “People are so selfish!” I will gripe. Or, “People are so closed-minded!”

One night I was taking my friend Tom to dinner. As I drove, we became engrossed in a discussion about an upcoming retreat and I drove right by the restaurant. Noticing my mistake immediately, I smacked my steering wheel and shouted, “People are so stupid!”

It is such a good thing Tom loves me. With a grin nearly pulling his mouth all over his face, he said, “People are stupid???”

I laughed then, so hard I had to stop the car, and I still laugh at this story and tell it to everyone with great joy at every opportunity, but a great lesson was learned that night. Not by “people,” either. By me.

People are stupid, sometimes. So am I. Sometimes. And like the generic “people” mentioned in the beginning of this tale, I can be selfish and closed-minded. Not to mention a whole slew of other not-so-flattering things.

But you know what? People are also loving! People are kind! People go out of their way to do good things! People are lovely and sympathetic and brilliant and giving and strong. People are witty and wonderful and zany! Sometimes I can even be a few of those things, too.

We are God’s creations, and this is the only explanation I have for how we—people—can be so many different things at the same time. Only God is capable of creating beings so crazily contradictory and so perfect at the same time.

What is your favorite observance about the people in your life?

This poem from Rainer Maria Rilke struck me this morning as particularly apt for this Lenten season and to the dawn of spring. It reminds me of how during Lent we take a kind of spiritual inventory … perhaps “to find releases and seek new hopes”. As we continue our Lenten journey, in what ways are you silently growing … and bearing fruit?

The Apple Orchard

Come let us watch the sun go down
and walk in twilight through the orchard’s green.
Does it not seem as if we had for long
collected, saved and harbored within us
old memories? To find releases and seek
new hopes, remembering half-forgotten joys,
mingled with darkness coming from within,
as we randomly voice our thoughts aloud
wandering beneath these harvest-laden trees
reminiscent of Durer woodcuts, branches
which, bent under the fully ripened fruit,
wait patiently, trying to outlast, to
serve another season’s hundred days of toil,
straining, uncomplaining, by not breaking
but succeeding, even though the burden
should at times seem almost past endurance.
Not to falter! Not to be found wanting!

Thus must it be, when willingly you strive
throughout a long and uncomplaining life,
committed to one goal: to give yourself!
And silently to grow and to bear fruit.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke from Rainer Maria Rilke: Selected Poems, translated from German by Albert Ernest Flemming)

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Join the sisters and A Nun’s Life community at 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE for Praying with the Sisters live podcast and chat.

This past Saturday, Geraldine Ferraro died. She was a hero for many because she was the first major female vice presidential candidate in the United States. I was twelve years old at the time — a bit too young to understand all the politics, but old enough to know that Geraldine Ferraro had taken a huge step personally and on behalf of women and all who struggle for equality in human rights. She was daring, a smart, engaging woman who was ready to take on the challenge. She was my hero.

I’ve been reading Tweets about Ferraro and wanted to share a few with you in her honor

• @marlothomas: RIP to Geraldine Ferraro, a trailblazer for all. She inspired women of all political persuasions. She will be missed by all who knew her.
• @YWCAUSA: “We’ve chosen the path to equality; don’t let them turn us around.” ~ Geraldine Ferraro (1935-2011)
• @creative_force: Geraldine A. Ferraro, 1935-2011 – She Ended the Men’s Club of National Politics. http://lnkd.in/GjsFvF
• angelesbrinonGeraldine Ferraro. Adios a la mujer de rojo http://bit.ly/ieJESq
• @emankowski:RIP Geraldine Ferraro. Thanks for taking that first step, telling women: “You can’t win if you don’t run.” http://tinyurl.com/4shflkj
• @Britannica: Feminism has triumphed, says David Boaz, and Geri Ferraro gets a lot of credit for the victory. http://bit.ly/ebwFzG

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Join the sisters and A Nun’s Life community at 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE for Praying with the Sisters live podcast and chat.

Harper’s Wine and Spirit trades review magazine posted an interesting article about how the 83-year-old wine Blue Nun is re-inventing itself for a younger generation. The German wine, launched way back in 1923, is on a focused mission to appeal to 25- to 45-year-old women “through a range of quality wines that deliver on taste and are suitable for any occasion.”

The new Blue Nun Original white wine, still in its famous blue glass fluted bottle, is now a blend of the Rivaner and Riesling grape varieties.

The brand re-launch also includes a new premium range of four German varietals, including a Riesling, Pinot Grigio, Dornfelder Rosé and Pinot Noir, each with its own distinctive style and character.

Packaging was validated by two rounds of consumer research which included the use of Wine Intelligence’s Vinitrac model. (source)

So, a few life lessons from Blue Nun Wine …

1. Just because it’s old, doesn’t mean it’s no good. Blue Nun wine may not have been the tastiest, but it’s a vintage icon (no pun intended) that can reinvent itself for a new generation.
2. Re-invention doesn’t mean throwing the baby out with the bathwater (again, no pun intended). That blue fluted glass bottle?? Classic, baby. So keep the parts that work well, and pitch the rest. Langguth Wines (owner of Blue Nun wine) knows it has a good thing but that the wine itself needs a bit of help from our friends Rivaner and Riesling.
3. And what’s a nun without a community? Blue Nun no longer stands on her own individual merit but is joined by a group of friends to give diversity and flavor (yet again, no pun intended) to the whole blue-hued family. Welcome, novice wine Sisters Riesling, Pinot Grigio, Dornfelder Rosé and Pinot Noir, “each with its own distinctive style and character”!
4. Focus, people focus!! Focus groups can be a great help to trying out something new and trying to appeal to a new audience. Don’t just sit around and try to imagine what others think … ask them! Do I seriously want a 65-year-old male business exec trying to get in my head? Um, that would be no. (It’s not safe for him, and it’s not safe for anyone to try to imagine what goes on in my mind).
5. When in doubt, use big words. What in the name of all that is holy is “the Wine Intelligence’s Vinitrac model”? I don’t know, but I find it very compelling. It reminds me that if I can give something a good, official-sounding name, I just might sound like I know what I’m talking about! (NOTE: use this lesson sparingly and only in emergency situations such as stage fright.)

So “KUDOS” to Blue Nun wine from this nun. May God bless the fruit of your hands and of the earth!

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Join the sisters and A Nun’s Life community at 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE for Praying with the Sisters live podcast and chat.

Tis the season for numinosity! Merriam-Webster’s word of the day today is “numinous”, a particularly apt one for this time of year!

The Word of the Day for December 22 is:

numinous \NOO-muh-nus\ adjective
1 : supernatural, mysterious
2 : filled with a sense of the presence of divinity : holy
3 : appealing to the higher emotions or to the aesthetic sense : spiritual

Examples:
As she listened to the choir sing in the candlelit sanctuary, Marianne was overcome by a sense of numinous awe.

“The instrumental interlude is notated as a musical staff drawn in a circle with eight more musical staffs protruding as ‘musical rays.’ It’s hard to follow but easy to understand, a thing of numinous visual and aural beauty.” –From a review by Mark Swed in the Los Angeles Times, November 17, 2010

Did you know?
“Numinous” is from the Latin word “numen,” meaning “divine will” or “nod” (it suggests a figurative nodding, of assent or of command, of the divine head). English speakers have been using “numen” for centuries with the meaning “a spiritual force or influence.” We began using “numinous” in the mid-1600s, subsequently endowing it with several senses: “supernatural” or “mysterious” (as in “possessed of a numinous energy force”), “holy” (as in “the numinous atmosphere of the catacombs”), and “appealing to the aesthetic sense” (as in “the numinous nuances of her art”). We also created the nouns “numinousness” and “numinosity,” although these are rare. (source: Merriam-Webster Word of the Day)

Tell us something about your day or this holiday season incorporating the word “numinous” (or any derivation thereof) in it!

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

Siblings in the snow (that's me on the left)

At least once a year I have to do an ode to snow. I adore snow. I would marry snow if I could. Snow to me is like what I imagine the Israelites to have felt about manna — those white flakes of heavenly goodness falling from the sky and blanketing the land like morning dew, “delicate, powdery, fine as frost”(Exodus 16).

Now I imagine the Israelites would have been a bit more hostile about manna if every morning they had to brush and chisel off the manna buildup on their donkey cart so they could get to work. But still, I’m guessing manna was largely a welcome affair.

Here in the Chicago area (midwest United States) we’ve had glorious outpourings of snow. Granted it does get a bit challenging — I went out yesterday for an errand and got about 1/4 of a mile away and called it quits. Snow, wind, and chill (to be biblical) everywhere! And I’ve got a nun who is snowed in on the southeastern side of Michigan. Trying to come home means passing through northwestern Indiana (just south of the lake) which is a treacherous pass during storms of any precipitous nature. Though pleased with snow, I take comfort in a tweet I read this morning, “Never before have I found the sound of a snowplow at 6a to be so beautiful.”

I guess too much of anything, even if it’s manna from heaven, can be a bad thing — but even when it’s an inconvenience, it can give us pause as we joyfully or grumblingly shift out of our routine and do something different. Not everyone has this choice to shift. Some people have little choice but to face the hazards, and it is good to be mindful of them so that we can help out in whatever way we can.

What feelings or memories or inspirations does snow conjure up for you? We’d love to hear from you.

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

At our IHM meetings this past weekend, Sister Susan read this beautiful piece from the epilogue of the play A Sleep of Prisoners by Christopher Fry.

The human heart can go the lengths of God.
Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now. The frozen misery
of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move;
The thunder is the thunder of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart Spring.
Thank God our Time is now when wrong
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never leave us till we take
The longest stride of soul men ever took
Affairs are now soul size.
The enterprise
Is exploration into God.
Where are you making for? It takes
So many thousand years to wake
But will you wake for pity’s sake?

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

A Sister of Saint Joseph of Toronto gets a shot at Oshawa Catholic High School

Contrary to the meaning of the slang term “a shot in the arm”, I experienced neither a boost nor encouragement from my recent flu shot. Rather, I am experiencing something more akin to pain and sleepiness.

Apparently the influenza vaccination is not what folks had in mind with the old “shot in the arm” phrase.

Instead I have this to look forward to in the next few hours and days:

• aches
• fever (low grade)
• soreness, redness, or swelling where the shot was given
• and, on rare occasions, severe allergic reactions (source: CDC)

Joy. Just the shot in the arm I needed for a gloomy Monday.

Well, it’s not all that bad. I know I’m doing my part for my health as the winter season approaches. It’s all good. I guess sometimes a bit of discomfort (sans severe allergic reaction) is good for the soul. At the least it justifies the nap I will be taking this afternoon.

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

Here in the midwestern United States we are having one of the best Fall seasons I can remember. The colors of the leaves on the maples are spectacular. It is a paradise of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns.

All of the vibrant colors are a reminder to me that the earth is God’s Good Creation, and that we are part of if – we are part of that inherently good gift of life in all its variety.

The southeastern corner of Michigan, where the Motherhouse is located, is one of my favorite Fall color places. Here’s a photo I took the other week at our Motherhouse in Monroe, Michigan.

What’s Fall look like in your area of the world? I’d love to see your photos! If you have a Facebook page with Fall photos, you can put a link to it in the comment box below. We’ll then display your photo too!

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

It is Tuesday and my brain is full of HTML, code, algorithms, hypotheses, and God knows what else. So before I go binary on y’all, I figured it’d be best if I open the floor to you today. Someone start a conversation and let’s all jump in. Shift as needed. GO!

P.S. If reading this via email or RSS, don’t let that stop you from coming directly to the website to offer your comments!

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

Sunday’s gospel reading was the story of the Samaritan who returned to Jesus reminding me of course of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37). The story is well known, but the implication for our lives is sometimes forgotten.

“There was a traveler going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, who fell prey to robbers. The traveler was beaten, stripped naked, and left half-dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road; the priest saw the traveler lying beside the road, but passed by on the other side. Likewise there was a Levite who came the same way; this one, too, saw the afflicted traveler and passed by on the other side.”

“But a Samaritan, who taking the same road, also came upon the traveler and, filled with compassion, approached the traveler and dressed the wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then the Samaritan put the wounded person on a donkey, went straight to an inn and there took care of the injured one. The next day the Samaritan took out two silver pieces and gave them to the innkeeper with the request, ‘Look after this person, and if there is any further expense, I’ll repay you on the way back.’”

“Which of these three, in your opinion, was the neighbor to the traveler who fell in with the robbers?” The answer came, “The one who showed compassion.”

Jesus replied, “Then go and do the same.”

In whatever community or society we find ourselves — religious, political, cultural, national, etc. — there are some awesome benefits, but too often those spaces can be highly inhospitable and even death-dealing to it’s own people and to those it considers “outsiders.” Each one of us can consciously and unconsciously alienate, oppress, and discriminate against others at both the personal and institutional levels.

On this day and every day, we must chose love over and against fear, hatred, and complacency. On this day and every day, we must choose to be advocates at all levels of society to ensure a life of justice and compassion for all.

This does not mean just for the people we like or are comfortable with because they are like us. No. This means all people, and especially the people whom we don’t understand, who are on the edges of the mainstream (often because the dominant group has forced them there), and for whom we have deep-seated assumptions and prejudices that have been perpetuated day after day, generation after generation.

On this day, and every day, let pray not just for those who are suffering from physical blows, damning words, loss of life and home, and other violence, but let us also pray that we might search our hearts, our actions, our day to day actions and beliefs and root out all forms of fear and hatred, however small and unassuming they may seem.

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

I still love Sister Chloe the Convent Cat … but Maru is terribly cute too!

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness month. As I breast cancer survivor myself, I am all for promoting early detection via mammography screening, clinical breast exams performed by health care providers, and breast self-examination.

I’m also for supporting a cure for breast cancer via reputable organizations such as the following:

• Susan G. Komen for the Cure
• American Cancer Society
• Doctor Susan Love Research Foundation

In regard to the pink phenomenon, I am growing increasingly uncomfortable with the whole “pink” phenomenon. Why? Because in some (many?) places, pink is used as a way to move product or to tug at the heart enough to loosen the purse strings. Just because an item is pink does not mean it is supporting a cure for breast cancer. In some cases, products say “a portion of the purchase goes toward …” but in reality, it might be minuscule. More on pink ribbon overkill.

At the same time, it is necessary that we financially support breast cancer awareness and research. Read the labels and if you really want to support the cure, give money, time, and effort to the organizations listed above. Sporting pink ribbons and the like is good — in moderation, but please don’t forget to take care that your money and support is going to the good guys.

In tandem with this is an article in the Huffington Post by Fran Visco, president of the National Breast Cancer Coalition. Visco, a breast cancer survivor, explains why she’s not “celebrating” National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. In many ways I agree. The coalition’s website www.StopBreastCancer.org is another good source for information on pursuing a cure for breast cancer. I do have one point of disagreement, however, in their tag line “give up hope”. While I get that it means getting off ones duff and doing something about finding a cure, I think true hope is what inspires us to believe in and work for a cure, it’s what allows us to make possible the seemingly impossible. (On the topic of hope … Check out a post I wrote a while back on Hope against Hope after seeing encountering a beautifully written, chilling graffitti message: F$%# hope.)

So this month, as well as every other month, I will wear the one pink-ribboned item I own, a  bracelet from my sister. And, I will get my mammogram and I will donate for a cure.

It is Friday and it has been a long week with another string of long days ahead. I am in need of inspiration. So today I’m posting a quote I just found in a book I’m reading now with the hope that you’ll post yours too.

My quote for today:

Our experience is composed rather of illusions lost than wisdom acquired.
– Joseph Roux (quoted in Chapter 15 of Beyond the Last Village by Alan Rabinowitz)

Share the inspiration! What words of wisdom have you found that spark your imagination, get you thinking, or inspire you?

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Both sisters are on the road today and so there will not be a podcast tonight. Catch up on previous Ask Sister podcasts by subscribing to iTunes or listening to Ask Sister right here. We’ll see you on Monday at 6 p.m. CST for prayer (your time zone).

I am getting ready to head to a national conference on vocations here in Chicago so I thought for today, I’d highlight some “oldies but goodies” of stuff we’ve had on A Nun’s Life website. These are some of my favorites.

VIDEO: Sister Joyce Durosko, IHM, on Are you open to being surprised by God?

BIKE ADVICE: Ride Like a Nun … Sister Julie offers advice to a world-class cyclist Emma Pooley who currently rides for Cervélo TestTeam.

STORM CHASER: Sister Maxine, the Storm Chasing Nun … not sure what she wouldn’t do to get good video footage!

ROADKILL: Can you find Sister Julie’s unfortunate reference to Fried Roadkill? Yup, it’s that unpredictable when you’re doing a live broadcast!

NUN ON A PLANE: Think Snakes on a Plane was a good flick? I think they should make Nun on a Plane. Even better.

BABY MEDITATION: Eat. Poop. Play. Sleep. Rinse. Repeat. Inspired by my little nephew, Simon.

Let us know via the comment box below what some of your faves are and why! Note: You’ll find many “odd” ones in the category “random writing“.

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

For the last few months, things haven’t always felt that right. Now I know why. I had a void in my life and now it is filled. Yesterday I had my regular (semi-regular in my case) dentist check up appointment. I mentioned that one tooth in particular was still giving me a difficult time. Linda, my ever faithful dental hygienist looked kindly at me and then at my tooth. “Did you know that you lost your filling?”

Now I’m new to this whole “filling” business. As you might recall, I had my first cavity less than a year ago. Sadly my hopes for tuning in more radio stations with a silver filling were not realized. So I don’t know when or where or how I lost my little silver dude, but it’s gone. Linda and the dentist were ever so gracious in taking the time to give me a new filling. This time, white because the material allows you to use adhesive. Trust me, a hot glue gun pointed at your mouth is an unnerving experience.

So we’re going through the whole filling thing and I tell them that I’ve definitely experienced pain and discomfort from this tooth. I tell them that its kind of feels like it’s always there, a general malaise if you will. Then Linda says to me, “Well of course you are feeling that way. You have a void and it’s exposing the inside. We need to fill the void.”

For a split second I thought I was in spiritual direction … then whirl of the drill and the smell of steaming adhesive sobered me up. But for a moment there, I thought wow, there’s a lot to be said for that metaphor of having a cavity — a void — and filling it. Sometimes the stuff we fill it with just doesn’t work (e.g., silver fillings DO NOT tune in more radio stations) and can even adversely affect us. We have to find the stuff that’s really going to stick, adhere to our hearts and souls and bring us peace.

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters” and chat room. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE … more info on that page.

I am tragically amused at the media coverage of Lady Gaga’s bizarre use of Catholic and nun imagery in her video Alejandro. Up for debate is not the video itself (others more musically and artistically savvy than I have written much on this) or Lady Gaga herself (I happen to think she is quite talented). What I want to know is what is up with our response to this video? Can someone please explain to me in small words why we are more upset about misused Catholic and nun imagery than about the images of violence and sexual assault in the video?

Lady Gaga is a skilled provocateur … perhaps we are missing her real point.

Found this via MailChimp and I love it! What’s your favorite Batman and Robin moment? I’m rather partial to “Holy Knit One Purl Two!” although I also like “Holy Return from Oblivion!”

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Join A Nun’s Life Community for prayer today via our live podcast “Praying with the Sisters”. Just before 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone) join us at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE
… more info on that page.

A while back, this question was sent to us from Paige who was doing a quiz supplied by her school during the holidays. “With which hand does a nun stir a cup of tea?” Being a dedicated coffee drinker, I did not have any basis from which to respond to the question. I did take a wild guess and responded that a sister or nun would probably stir the cup of tea any way she wanted to.

I never heard back from Paige so I don’t know what was actually considered the correct answer. As she noted, it is a weird question.

And yet I wonder … is there a correct way to stir a cup of tea? Did Catherine McAuley, founder of the Sisters of Mercy, stir her cup of tea in a particular way? (Catherine McAuley is known for saying on her deathbed to her followers to “be sure to have a comfortable cup of tea for them when I am gone.”) Is there a correct tea-stirring methodology? If so was there a connection to holiness or nunliness?

If you know, please let us know! If you don’t know, but are the creative and humorous sort, make up a good response that will have us rolling our eyes or, better yet, rolling on the floor laughing.

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Join coffee drinkers Sister Julie and Sister Maxine for prayer today at 6 p.m. Central Time (your time zone). Praying with the Sisters is a live podcast where we pray the scriptures together and our prayer requests via the chat room at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE.

This week I have been a walking calamity — thumb crushed, car with a mind of its own, audio splicing nightmares, organizational chaos, toothpaste overdose, prayers for “the amazing child Jesus” (sadly you can’t censor oneself in a live broadcast), an angry cat, and the list goes on. So help me out folks, tell me a story of your disasters.

And please, please stay away from the general Chicago area as I may be a danger to myself as well as to others.

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Join the Sisters and the A Nun’s Life community for prayer today at 6 p.m. Central Time (check your time zone) at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE.

Much is written about the Body of Christ, but does anyone every pay attention to the lowly thumb? Today, we celebrate the thumb of Christ. Why the thumb? Well, because I just smashed mine when I too vigorously closed the convent window. I now have renewed appreciation for all the little parts that make up the Body of Christ.

Christ Pantocrator mosaic from Daphni, Greece, ca. 1080-1100.I especially like this image of Christ because he looks like he just slammed his thumb in a carpentry mishap.

Here’s the thing. The thumb is a very small part of the whole body. It’s not all that fancy, and it almost never gets the attention that parts such as the heart receive. But that little guy is part of the whole, and its presence or its absence affects everything else. I am painfully aware of this as I accidentally use my thumb to hit the space bar as I type. Until part of the body ceases to function “normally” we tend to take it for granted, not thinking for a moment about it’s total awesomeness and it’s essential place in our daily lives.

So this of course gets me thinking about the imagery of the Body of Christ, an image Saint Paul uses to talk about how we are all interconnected with each other and Jesus the Christ.

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. (1 Corinthians 12:12-27)

Just as the thumb is a small part of the body, not very glamorous or coveted (no one asked the Wizard of Oz for a thumb, after all), so we too might feel like a small, barely significant part of the whole Body of Christ. Yet we are indispensable. Our gifts and talents and unique way of being in the world are needed to fully make Christ present in the world, present to one another and to the whole world. And even when we feel crushed, tired, weighed down, we can still live fully. Even a crushed thumb can still eke out a space bar or two!

So here’s to the Thumb of Christ, my friends!

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Join the Sisters and the A Nun’s Life community for prayer today at 6 p.m. Central Time (check your time zone) at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE.

I typically do not believe in Monday kind of days. But today is an exception. My laptop died — I saw fatal errors that would make a computer technician blush. It is so bad that a message came up in foreign characters that I’m pretty sure said, “You are screwed.” Sadly my email and important documents are on that computer (FYI if you sent me an email that needs response soon, please re-email).

So then got to work on another computer. But it would not connect to the Internet, so, considering much of my work relies on the Internet, there was very little I could do. So I packed up and took the computer to Starbucks for coffee and Internet. I forgot my wallet. Got back to Starbucks and dropped my change in bird poop. Yeah, that’s right, bird poop.

Now I’m settled into Starbucks and ready to work. In front of me are 7 old guys shooting the breeze. They just finished a heated argument over one guy’s trip to Vegas and how he manages his money. It wasn’t pretty. They turned around and apologized at one point for, shall we say, colorful language. Please, with the day I’m having, they don’t know the meaning of colorful.

So I put my USB headphones on so I can edit on our last podcast. Go figure, they are not compatible with Windows 7.

None of this is the end of the world, but it is frustrating and exasperate the bigger concerns on my heart. I think I’m just going to stop right now, get back in the car (which incidentally has its own issues — the turn signal sound will not stop), drive to the park and sit for a bit. Clear my head and still my soul and touch back into the peace of God.

So what do you do when you have a Monday kind of day? Crawl into a fetal position? Pray? Continue the day in a lackadaisical state? Buck up and make a change? Recharge? Go back to sleep?

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Join Sister Maxine and Sister Julie for prayer today via a LIVE podcast at 6 p.m. Central Time (check your time zone)

The results are in for our second photo caption contest! Here is the photo and winning caption, taking 20% of the vote! (the closeup photo on the link above more clearly shows the hockey players on the roof)

“The Brothers of the Order of St. Gretzky participate in their annual Hockey Tournament of the Blessed Giant Swan”

Congratulations to our winner, WP! I will contact you by email with your winnings!

And for those of you who do not know Wayne Gretzky (perish the thought!), here is a bio on Number 99 — the man, the myth, the legend — Wayne Gretzky.

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Join the sisters for evening prayer tonight at 6 p.m. CST and every Monday through Thursday at http://anunslife.org/live

It is time for you to vote for your favorite photo caption from last week’s
A Nun’s Life photo caption contest.

Instead of choosing finalists, we decided to let you vote on all contest submissions!

To vote for your favorite caption, respond to the poll below. Click on your favorite caption and then press the “Done” button at the bottom of the survey. Only one vote per computer.

The winner will be announced on Wednesday!

Welcome to the second A Nun’s Life photo caption contest. Last year we featured a photo of the Blessed Virgin Mary with an ADT sign. This year on yet another one of my neighborhood walks, I discovered another gem of a photo. The caption, however, is up to you!

Here is a closeup …

Here’s what you do:

1. Pray and meditate on the perfect caption for the photo.
2. Submit your entry by writing your name/pseudonym, real email (so A Nun’s Life can contact potential winners — enter where it says “email” — never made public), website (optional), and caption in the comment box below this post.
3. Check back often to see other divinely-inspired caption entries.

The contest will run through this Friday, March 5 midnight (PST).

Over the weekend, Sister Maxine and I will go over the entries and select the finalists. Then on Monday, March 8, we will announce the finalists. You will have 24 hours to vote for your favorite one. The caption with the most votes wins! The prize? Well, that has not been decided. Far more important than the prize will be the personal pride and joy you will feel at winning this contest!

Winter has been cold, too cold to hop on my bike and cruise around the corn fields, so I signed up at the gym. A New Year’s resolution? Perhaps that too!

Cross-trainers, tread machines, circuit training equipment, pool, and lots of exercise mats means lots of fun for me! It also means getting in shape and staying in shape.

I like to keep to myself at the gym, doing my cardio or laps without much interaction with folks around me. Got my music playing in my ears to keep me motivated and a focused look on my face, both of which send the message that I’m not up for conversation.

But in the few short weeks that I’ve been going to the gym, I’ve become a Chatty Cathy (a classic doll – I’d post a picture but they are kind of freaky and would give me nightmares). Last week it was the ladies in the pool (they were preparing for aqua jazzercizing Tae Bo or some such thing), then it was the lady who forgot her towel and so i gave her mine, and yesterday it was the woman with the freakin awesome knee high socks. She also happened to be the one who got her butt kicked by her trainer as it was her first day at the gym. I totally sympathized with her and encouraged her to hang in there.

I appreciate that God called me out of myself and am trying to be more open to the ways I can connect with folks at the gym — even a smile is appreciated when you feel like you can’t finish that last lap or that last hill on the stairmaster. People have done that for me.

Any ministry experiences at the gym? What about other unexpected places to be called to minister?

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Join us tonight for prayer at 6 p.m. CST at http://aNunsLife.org/LIVE.

It is SNOWING! I love snow. No matter what people say or how challenging it is to drive/walk in the snow, or how much I have to shovel, I love snow. I was born in winter, spent endless hours in the snow, learned to drive in a snow/ice storm, and have always lived in a snow belt!

My siblings and I in the snow! That's me in the blue coat on the left.

When I was home at our IHM Motherhouse earlier this week, I was walking back from the dining room through the cloister hallway and bumped into another sister who was, like myself, gazing outside at the softly falling snow. “I love snow,” I declared, and she followed suit. It was funny because both of us knew we weren’t making an idle weather comment but that we both meant it truly and deeply. I’ve not met many people who share the same depth of love of snow, but in my IHM sister I found a kindred spirit.

I think God is pretty awesome for having figured out the snow thing. With every snowflake that lands on me, that swirls around me, I feel anointed, blessed by God and embraced by God.

Any other snow lovers out there? What is your favorite snow thing to do or experience?

I have the R.E.M. song “It’s the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)” in my head. I must say, I feel fine that this year is just about over. It’s been a good one, but it has been absolutely full with running from one thing to the other and major transitions. I’m ready for 2010.

Today I’m turning the writing over to you: What was most significant for you in 2009? What do you look forward to in 2010?

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Please join us at 6:00 p.m. CST (your time zone) for Praying with the Sisters podcast, a ministry of A Nun’s Life. Visit aNunsLife.org/LIVE. Our next podcast will be on Monday, January 4.

I am writing today from Washington, DC, where I am attending a meeting of Catholic sisters and associates for the next few days. I had an interesting experience getting here.

Yesterday I flew in from Chicago to Baltimore and took public transportation to Washington Theological Union where our meeting is taking place. I’ve done the public transportation thing before when I lived in Washington 10 years ago so I figured it wouldn’t be that difficult. But things change, memory fails, and the morning of my travels I realized I had no idea how to get from the airport to WTU. I looked at airport and cit maps, bus and train schedules but was running out of time to figure it out. On a whim, I did a quick search online for specific instructions on how to take public transportation from BWI to WTU. Lo and behold, I found a document from someone who is “a bi-weekly commuter to DC from Rochester, NY”. I have no idea who this person is but the instructions were so clear — and accurate as it turned out — that I thought I’d give it a shot. Plus the person is from Rochester (my home town) and goes to WTU (where I had taken a class) so I figured it was a good sign!

I printed off the instructions and from the moment I stepped off the airplane I felt like I was in the hands of a total stranger, hoping to God that the instructions “worked”. And by God they did. Every step of the way, I knew what to do and how to do it — where to pick up the bus, how much it would cost, where it would drop me off, how to exchange trains, etc.

All the while I kept thinking about this unknown traveling companion of mine, this person whose care in writing up those instructions and posting them online had saved me and delivered me safely to my destination.

For me this person was an angel of sorts, someone who was present to me in a behind-the-scenes kind of way, someone who with care reached out, not even know the persons she or he would be helping.

As I reflect on this experience, I am amazed at how much this experience speaks of what ministry is, of being able to give of one’s gifts and talents even when we don’t know how these might be received in the world, of giving without expecting a return, and of being present to others in something as simple as explaining how to get from point A to point B.

In what ways have you experienced an “unknown companion” in your life?

Ever gone through one of those losing streaks where you lose your keys, your wallet, an important file, etc.? It’s not pretty. My recent losing streak was topped off by losing my drivers license. Not only did this mean I could not drive legally, but it meant that I had no ID card — no way of proving my identity. I’ve since found my license but it was a very odd — and unexpectedly spiritual experience — of losing my ID and then finding it.

The short version of the story is this. On Monday I had a bunch of errands to do and was in and out of the post office, bank, and miscellaneous stores. On Tuesday, I was filling out some paperwork that required my drivers license number. I looked all over for it, but couldn’t find it. Checked my wallet, bag, car, convent, and everywhere in between. Nothing. I called the places I had been — including the one store that I remembered last using my ID. Nothing. I explained the situation to my nun Maxine. We rechecked everything and replayed my trip the day before. It seemed likely it was at the store but they had checked and not found it. It was as if the thing had disappeared from the face of the earth. I headed for the Secretary of State’s office to get a replacement.

Now losing an ID card is a major bummer, but it’s not the end of the world. Still, I felt awful because I knew that losing that ID card meant I was distracted, not fully present in some way. You know how something as simple as a lost card can be the last straw, that one small, insignificant thing that become symbolic of something bigger. That’s kind of how this was. So going to the Secretary of State was like giving up on my intuition that it had to be at the store, and giving up on my intuition was like giving up on myself. But it kept bugging me. I couldn’t bear the thought of not trying one more time. So I drove the extra 10 miles to the store. Walked in, asked about my missing license, and lo and behold, there it was!

So here’s the thing. When I felt sure it was at the store and called and they said no, I couldn’t believe that my intuition was off. But it wasn’t. And even in the face of being told not once but twice that my ID card was not in the store, my intuition had me drive right back out there only to find it waiting for me at the customer service desk.

Normally I would not write about the little dramas of my life, but I am today because I think we all have these dramas that, no matter how insignificant, can weigh on us or tempt us to doubt ourselves. Maybe it’s a colleague or friend’s abrupt reaction, or a project that we just can’t get right, or a misplaced set of keys. I don’t have any amazing insight about these things except to say to hang in there, to trust yourself, and to be open to the sometimes surprising appearance of grace.

What “little drama” in your life opened you to a surprising appearance of grace?

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Join Sister Maxine and me for prayer today at noon Central Time at http://anunslife.org/live.

It is Monday, and I’m having a Monday kind of day. Yup, even nuns can get the Monday blues. Can’t think of a word to write, got a million and two things to do, I’m getting over a cold, have bills that need to be paid, and I feel like going back to bed. So I figured I’d see what you all are up to on this Monday. If you’re having a Monday kind of day, feel free to share your pain. If you’ve got some amusing or uplifting words for those of us afflicted by the Monday blues, please share too.

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Join Sister Maxine and me for prayer today at noon Central Time at http://anunslife.org/live.

It is 6:21 a.m. West Coast time, and I am a tired nun. Sister Maxine and I are in Oakland, California, after 8.5 hours of traveling (1 car, 2 planes, 2 shuttles, a broken People Mover and a broken elevator) plus an hour wait to check-in at the hotel last night. The good news is that the plane ride was awesome. It is truly amazing to see the various landscapes of our country — the vast plains etched by farmlands, the magnificent Rocky Mountains, the desert, and then the hills rolling into the ocean. Our flight from LAX to Oakland took us right along the Pacific coast. Simply beautiful.

Today Sister Maxine and I are going to head to Muir Woods to do some hiking. Last time I was here I visited Muir Woods for the first time — and then made the sisters take me there a second time before I left because I so loved it there. It’s a forest chock full of redwoods. It is like being in a cathedral with the height of the trees and the palpable sense of God’s presence. Will post more tomorrow about our adventures.

For now, I’m preparing for a presentation that I am giving about blogging and using social media for non-profits and for ministry. Sister Maxine is also at work on her thesis. She very generously gave me the desk to work on while she took the ironing board and set it up as her makeshift desk. A very industrious nun that Sister Maxine!

I have a cavity. There, I’ve said it. I’m not proud of it, but it’s there so now I have to deal with it. I have never, ever had a cavity. In fact until my most recent dental appointment, I never really knew what a cavity actually meant. “Ohhh, cavity as in cavity,” I said with astonishment finally realizing that the word is not just some esoteric medical term used to describe a bad tooth. It actually refers to what it actually is, a giant hole in my tooth.

I have been blessed with good teeth. In fact, I’m one of those rare people who has permission from her dental hygienist to floss only 3 times a week because my teeth are in such good shape. So where the heck did this cavity come from? My dentist assured me it has nothing to do with any act of omission or commission on my part. It has to do with the fact that I had braces many moons ago.

Well no matter. What’s done is done. Today at 11:15 a.m. I’ll be sitting in the dentist’s office waiting for my cavity to be carved out and filled. I generally don’t mind my trips to the dentist, but this one has got me on edge. Hope they put me in the far back room so that the little kids don’t hear me scream.

Doctor Teeth is the leader of the muppets band The Electric Mayhem. He has a gold tooth claimed to be fashioned by melting down his gold records.

Since I’m having a filling, I figured it’d be like one of those big gleaming gold ones, something kind of hip and cool. I thought that might add to my mystique as a nun. But sadly, the dentist said it’s silver or white. I decided I’m going with silver. I think it’d be cool if I can pick up an extra radio station or two!

The first reading from today’s Liturgy is from the first letter to Timothy. The author of the letter (traditionally attributed to Paul) is addressed to Timothy, a newly ordained person who is leading the church in Ephesus.

Timothy is encouraged to trust in his gifts and to minister faithfully to the community. This passage is packed with all sorts of gems to ponder. Two in particular struck me:

Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. Until I arrive, give attention to the public reading of scripture, to exhorting, to teaching. Do not neglect the gift that is in you … (1 Timothy 4:12-13)

This passage reminds me of a chapter in the Rule of Benedict (Saint Benedict’s book of instructions for monks living in community):

Whenever any important business has to be done
in the monastery,
let the Abbot call together the whole community
and state the matter to be acted upon.
Then, having heard the brethren’s advice,
let him turn the matter over in his own mind
and do what he shall judge to be most expedient.
The reason we have said that all should be called for counsel
is that the Lord often reveals to the younger what is best. (Rule of Benedict 3)

It can sometimes be tough for young people or “the new hire” or “the new kid on the block” to take a leadership role. They may be criticized or ignored for not knowing the ropes or having enough experience or whatever. What I appreciate about the passage from Timothy is that young people (and all of us for that matter) are encouraged to not let others use our youth as a reason to not listen to us or to not be open to our abilities.

The flip side of the coin is “do not neglect the gift that is in you.” Hmmm. Do not neglect the gift that is in you. That is a statement worth pondering. I find it almost more challenging than the first part of the passage from 1 Timothy. What does this passage mean to you? What might that mean in your own life?

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Join us LIVE today at Noon Central Time (UTC-5) for Praying with the Sisters podcast where we’ll be praying with this passage from Scripture. More info at http://anunslife.org/live.

I am reading the galleys of a soon-to-be-published book by Mary Gordon. It’s called Reading Jesus: A Writer’s Encounter with the Gospels (Pantheon Books, 2009).

Normally I don’t really like books on Scripture or theology that don’t come from a scholar in the field (yeah, I swing that way) but this book is a major exception and has proven not only to be a great read, but it has rocked my world. I think it is because Mary Gordon is an exceptional writer and has researched scripture scholars and has approached the topic from a unique perspective. Plus the topic is near and dear to my heart.

I will be writing more about the book but for now, since I am so taken by this book, I want to hear from you about which book has totally rocked your world. Maybe its something from an author you would never have read in a million years, maybe it’s a perspective that runs counter to your own, or maybe it’s just plain-old amazing writing that has somehow seeped into your very soul. Let us know!

It’s a quiet day in the convent today so I’m working on some tech stuff for the blog and podcasts. Since I’m at the computer, I thought I’d invite you over to the chat room to say hi. Just click on http://anunslife.org/live/ and you’ll see the chat room. I’ll be around most of the afternoon.

And, I just finished today’s Praying with the Sisters podcast for listening or download.

We couldn’t do Nun News Roundup today but will be back next Friday. We’ll let you know then who the winner of the new book is. Not sure what I’m talking about? Listen to last Friday’s Nun News Roundup. Since we didn’t do that podcast today, you can still enter to win up till Wednesday.

Cheers!

Can’t blog. Must tend animals and baby. Formation in a religious community does not train you to deal with 4 dogs following you around while simultaneously trying to warm milk for crying baby meanwhile 1 dog freaking out with thunder and another at your heels waiting for miscellaneous food to drop to floor all the while it’s pouring rain and another dog is shaking water off her soaked coat and the fourth dog is leaning against you for some loving.

But the baby smiles … and all is well in the world.

Rocky, Zach, Nikki, and Maggie (clockwise from top left). Maggie and Zechariah are visiting.

My nephew Simon who is 8 weeks and a day!

Yes, you are on the right blog. And no, I’m not specifically referring to a nun’s life. Today it’s not about nuns … it’s about babies.

I am visiting my brother Paul and sister-in-law Deborah in Cedar Rapids and have the privilege of hanging out with my baby nephew Simon who is almost 8 weeks old. I have discovered first and foremost that parents of newborns are AMAZING people because baby tending is a full-time job (a labor of love) and then some. Simon and I have been hanging out since around 8 this morning and it’s been nonstop. I even forgot to get my coffee!

It’s been a big learning curve for me, having never reared a child before. Have to learn how to change diapers (first couple? not so good), test milk warmth, burp crying baby, figure out if funny face means food, happiness or poop. In my line of work (nun stuff) you don’t come across much conversation about poop and booties and burps and boppies. Yet in baby world, there is a whole different language, and indeed, approach to daily life!

As I move through Simon’s routine and his day, I am startled to find that his routine is not a bad model even for us adults (well, most of it). There is a simplicity to his life, a reliance on the necessities and a disregard for the fluff (not counting his Boppy). He relishes the small wonders of life — light, wind, the warm nose of his dog, the smile of his mom, and the voice of his dad. He has his active time and his quiet time. He takes time for listening to a book being read and for learning new skills like how to hold his head up (he’s awesome at that!). I would like to be more like Simon in my own life, taking more time for small wonders, balancing active and quiet, and developing talents. Not a bad way to live!

What have you learned about life from a baby? 

Yesterday I had a bunch of errands to run, one of which included a trip to Evanston to the bank to get some Canadian currency. I’ve only been to Evanston a handful of times but managed to find my way. While in Evanston, I stopped by the post office to mail some stuff. Ordinary stuff, but this particular trip was a comedy of errors. From going the wrong way on a one-way street, to parking my own car in a valet parking lot, to standing in line at the wrong end, it was just a joke — but I wasn’t laughing.

But everything changed when I ran into (not literally) the valet parking man. He had chased me through the parking structure to see where I ended up and to inform me that this was valet parking (free for bank customers)! Initially I was a bit unnerved to find a man standing outside my car window in the belly of the parking structure, but his whole presence was disarming and gentle. He wore what looked like a mechanic’s outfit, with a little grease around the edges, and he had an accent of sorts that made his sketchy English sound poetic. With great kindness he told me the proper parking procedure and when he heard I was there just for a simple banking transaction he shooshed me toward the stairway and said he would take care of my car and have it on the main parking floor (which was full) for me. He could tell I had been flustered from my morning already, and it was as if this was his way of saying “It’s going to be okay.” I felt it in his voice and in his eyes … not something I normally am open to finding in a parking garage with a strange man outside my window!

So after the “simple” banking transaction that ended up taking 45+ minutes because they couldn’t figure out my nun bank account, I headed back to the parking garage and sure enough, there was my chariot right in front. I went to the payment station, something I normally do with ease, but for some reason I couldn’t get to work. A woman at the garage office, came right over and not only explained what to do but showered me with “Baby girl” and “Sweet child” and “Love” as she led me through the steps. It was like balm on a weary soul!

I emerged from that underground parking garage cleansed and refreshed, from the dark and greasy depths to the fresh light of day. But it was in the darkness — with these two unassuming, parking garage attendees — that I experienced such kindness and a bit of healing for my soul.

Thank you for all the entries and your votes for the best photo caption in our recent A Nun’s Life photo caption contest.

RESULTS

Protected by ADT, prayed for by BVM

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

Congratulations to Mom of Mother’s Kitchen who came up with the best photo caption “Protected by ADT, prayed for by BVM”. I will email you with the grand prize (okay, grand might be a bit too much, but a prize is a prize).

And congrats to our 3 runners-up: Another Sister Julie, CSSF, Wendy and her daughter Melissa, and discerninglife25! Great job!

Yesterday I went with a couple friends to Lifeline Theatre to see Mariette in Ecstasy, a performance based on the novel by Ron Hansen. Before the performance even began, I was in love with the theatre and the set — small, warm, artistic and welcoming. The theatre’s tagline says it well:
“Big Stories, Up Close”.

Mariette in Ecstasy is about a cloistered community of nuns, the Sisters of the Crucifixion, who “live quiet lives of prayer and devotion until the intriguing Mariette is initiated into their cloister.” The postulant Mariette experiences what she (and some of the sisters) believe to be divine encounter, but other sisters are not so sure about the authenticity of the experience. The faith of the sisters, their trust in one another, and their community life is all put into question as the sisters try to deal with Mariette and their own conflicting feelings.

Overall, the story and the performance were amazing. I felt like I was a part of the performance because of the wonderful choreography and the intensity of the actors. Because it was a story about nuns, I was particularly attentive to how the nuns were portrayed, how their community life and spirituality were expressed.

My favorite nun was the prioress, Reverend Mother Céline, played by Patrice Egleston. She was probably the nun shown with the most depth. I particularly liked how she was showed the dynamic of being a nun who was responsible for the common good and the community, but also a nun who had a family, who struggled, who prayed, who cared deeply. I also loved how graceful Mother Céline was — her every movement was effortless and when she walked it was as if she were floating just above the floor!

Brenda Barrie was very good as Mariette Baptiste, the new postulant and sibling of the prioress. She kind of freaked me out a bit when she was in ecstasy which meant she was doing an excellent job acting!

In the end, the question that begs to be answered is whether Mariette was having authentic experiences of God (stigmata, trances, visions) or if she was making it up to get attention or because she was sick.

A deeper question, however, and one that is pertinent for all of us, is whether or not we are open to being surprised by God. Are we open to the sometimes strange and totally unreasonable ways that God is present to us in our lives?

If you live in the Chicago area, go see this performance of Mariette in Ecstasy at Lifeline Theatre. I highly recommend it. Hurry! You only have until April 5.

Also, check out the book by Ron Hansen.

Welcome to the first ever A Nun’s Life photo caption contest. On my neighborhood walk yesterday I discovered the Blessed Virgin Mary in the front yard of an apartment building. The photo begs for a caption so I thought I’d toss it out to you to come up with the best caption for this picture.

Here’s what you do:

1. Pray and meditate on the perfect caption for this photo. (Suggestion: Befriend the BVM. She will help you with ideas and inspiration.)
2. Submit your entry by writing your name/pseudonym, real email (so A Nun’s Life can contact potential winners — enter where it says “email” — never made public), website (optional), and caption in the comment box below this post.
3. Check back often to see other divinely-inspired caption entries.

The contest will run through this Friday, March 27 midnight (CST).

Over the weekend, my nun Sister Maxine and I will go over the entries and select the finalists. Then on Tuesday, March 31 (one week from today), we will announce the finalists. You will have 24 hours to vote for your favorite one. The caption with the most votes wins! The prize? Well, that has not been decided. Far more important than the prize will be the personal pride and joy you will feel at winning this contest!

In the last post Make My Heart Simple, a conversation started around the verse, “I will give glory to your name for ever, for your great kindness is upon me: you have rescued me from the deepest depths.” (Psalm 86).

Many of us have been or currently are in those “deepest depths” … that place where life takes a different, often tragic, turn that we did not expect or particularly want. A sudden major illness or disability ranks right up there in this regard. Unfortunately (fortunately?) I know this all too well having had breast cancer almost 7 years ago and having a tough recovery for that first year or so.

After the shock of finding out about having cancer or going deaf or whatever it may be, it can be difficult (understatement!) to get a handle on one’s thoughts and feelings. Fear, anger, guilt, grief, bitterness, vulnerability, sadness and questions like “why me?”, “what do I do?”, “why if …”, “how can I live like this?” …. all these things can all come rushing in on us and can feel like they are crushing us.

Then there’s the question of God. Where does God fit into this? Did God “will” me to get sick? Is God responsible for this? Can I get angry with God or  yell at God for this thing that has happened? Do my feelings of fear, anger, or bitterness mean that I don’t trust God? Will God be with me through this?

It is totally okay to have these feelings and questions. Life just took an unexpected turn and even if things turn out okay and are “back to normal”, what you have gone through does change you irrevocably. Even though it’s been 7 years since I had my first surgery and then got the “all clear”, I am still dealing with how my life has changed — having breast cancer made me rethink everything — my perspective on life, God, myself, relationships and the whole world. And yes, I was bitter about the whole affair. I was young, I had fallen in love with the IHM life and mission, I was active in ministry, and then SMACK! Cancer. After the shock and just getting through the things that needed to be done, I was able to feel more — to feel scared, bitter, and heart-broken. I never blamed God, as I don’t believe God gives us things that hurt us, but I did wonder if any good could come of this. How could I live with something that God didn’t want for me and I certainly didn’t want for me either? Was it possible — really and truly possible — for me to not only cope but to fully embrace this?

There is a great quote from one of our IHM founders, Louis Florent Gillet, CSsR, that is a guiding lights in my life, and it has come to embody how I see God at work even in the midst of my struggles:

“I began without thinking of the future of the work, leaving it to God alone to bless and make it prosper, if it were pleasing to God and useful for the good of others.”

The message of this quote helps me to move through the anger and the grief to a place where I can truly embrace the thing before me (in this case, cancer) and trust that God will make good come of it. Doesn’t mean that God willed the tragedy or that God or I condone it. It just means that even in the darkest, deepest depths, God is there and finds a way bring good to me and to others.

As I write this, I am very much mindful of the tragic death of Natasha Richardson, of the sudden death of one of my friends’ religious sister, and of my own nuns who are living through cancer. Please keep these women and their loved ones in your prayers.

From what or whom do you draw strength when you are in the deepest depths?

Yesterday I wrote about tips and ideas for giving gifts to nuns. I want to follow up with a post about receiving gifts.

Receiving gifts can be an art, especially when you receive something that is not quite what you wanted or you can’t use or that you just plain don’t like. It’s okay to admit this, folks. I’ve been reflecting a lot on this — not really in terms of receiving presents, but rather in terms of the things that happen in life that aren’t exactly what we want, but we must receive them, embrace them regardless of how we initially feel or think about them.

A recent event brought this home to me. While I was in New York City with Sister Maxine Kollasch, IHM, we stayed with a wonderful group of nuns. When we arrived at the convent late Sunday night, they brought us into the dining room and fed us. Even though it was nearing bedtime, all of the sisters in the convent came down to the dining room to meet us and to be with us while we ate dinner. It meant the world to Sister Maxine and me.

While cleaning up the dishes afterward, we noticed a HUGE tray of croissants in the kitchen. Seriously, they were giant croissants and there was enough to feed the convent for days. The nuns remarked that the croissants had been dropped off for them by a gentleman who brings them something every week or two without fail. Even after they told him to stop (“Enough!”) he still kept on bringing stuff — croissants, fruit, bread, sweets, and all kinds of wonderful things. Now the nuns didn’t really “need” the stuff, in fact it was more than their household could use. But these nuns understood something about the art of receiving gifts. They recognized that he was expressing his deep gratitude and his affection for them in this gesture. And I think they also knew that their receiving of the gifts was a gift in return.

I learned from these wonderful nuns about giving generously and receiving generously. The simple truth is that our gift-giving and gift-receiving ought always to be an expression of love, a love that is sometimes extravagant, sometimes “more than enough”. After all, this gift exchange is nothing other than a reflection of our God who is lavish in love of us, who goes to great lengths to care for us, and who cherishes us more than a thousand buttery croissants!

Yoshihiro Nakata is a 16-year-old “schoolgirl” who was just drafted by a professional baseball team in Japan. News sources say that Yoshida has a wicked side-armed knuckler that is unlike anything anyone has seen.

Yoshihiro will be the first woman ever to play alongside the men in Japanese professional baseball.

Full story from AFP – Schoolgirl knuckleballer headed to Japan pro league

September and October have been a wirlwind of activity for me. Let’s see … I’ve traveled to Iowa, Wisconsin, Kentucky, Michigan, and Pennsylvania. I’ve seen the Fall colors change in varying degrees in all of these states. I’ve prayed, played, presented, listened, worked, prayed some more, hiked, explored, laughed, and communed with God, with others, and with the great outdoors. It’s been a trip, literally and figuratively, and hopefully in a couple weeks things will settle down. So I’ve been a bit remiss in responding to emails (hang on — if you’ve written to me, I’ll be in touch soon!) and writing about various happenings.

One such happening was my delightful visit with Catholic Mom extraordinaire, Lisa Hendey. Lisa is the woman behind the popular website CatholicMom.com as well as the blog Catholic Mom Moments and Catholic Moments Podcast. Lisa is doing a tremendously good work for Motherhood and for spreading the Good News online. Lisa has an intelligent and compassionate Catholic presence online.

I first met Lisa online in one or another social network that we both were on. While plurking one day, I saw that Lisa was going to be visiting Chicago (she lives in Fresno … probably a lot warmer there right now than here in the Windy City). I invited her to visit and she accepted! Lisa came to Loyola Press where we chatted, toured the place, had lunch and did a podcast.  It was pretty awesome. Having had a few weeks to reflect back on our visit, what remains with me is a sense of spiritual companionship — being with someone where there is a meeting of spirits. Lisa’s active engagement in online ministry and use of new media is a blessing to me personally as well because it’s helpful to have ministerial colleagues in this vast World Wide Web. Online ministry is like a new mission land, a frontier to be explored and to be present on and to reflect the light of Christ. Plus, creating and sustaining an online ministry on a shoe-string (read: no) budget, finding time amidst other responsibilities, dealing with wonky networks and technical issues, etc. — all these can be a huge challenge for those of us in the digital missions. I’m glad to have Lisa as a friend in these adventures!

I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of Lisa online and hopefully for an occasional visit here at A Nun’s Life.

To catch a bit of Lisa’s and my time together, listen to Lisa’s Catholic Moments podcast for a conversation between the two of us.

People are always asking good questions here at A Nun’s Life. Here’s a question from Harrison that I thought I’d share with you all …

I am not a catholic, but I love your blog. It’s very refreshing in the midst of excessive online trash. I was just wondering you’ve ever seen the episode of The Golden Girls where Sophia becomes a nun. It’s hilarious. Do nuns get silly when they live together or is it all serious all the time? What do you ladies do for fun?

Hi Harrison! Thanks for hanging out on my blog. I don’t remember seeing that episode of Golden Girls, but I’m sure it was a hoot. I loved watching Estelle Getty!

As to your other questions, I can assure you that we are not serious all the time! We all have our moments of silliness that we share with one another and with others. Most people see the “professional” side of us which might include humor but usually not so much silliness. But, as my friends can attest, we do have fun and we can be pretty silly at times (I write this as I laugh at The Simpsons episode which ends with God, Buddha and the Colonel enjoying KFC popcorn chicken in heaven).

What do we do for fun? Oh, it’s pretty random. I personally am amused at the oddest of things. I’m laughing hysterically at dorky jokes by friends on Plurk while I watch The Simpsons (I multitask). My nuns are also some of the funniest people I know. There are a few of them that tell THE BEST stories. Seriously, you can’t make some of that stuff up! I’m going home next month for meetings at our IHM Motherhouse. Since it’s a multi-day event, they’ve scheduled a “Pub Night” with games, yummies and beverages. If you’ve never seen a group of nuns rumble over Wii or a game of no-holds-barred euchre, then you haven’t lived.

Really, though, nuns have fun in many of the ordinary ways that you have fun in. We like to joke, have fun, be silly and quirky and enjoy people’s company.

Now back to The Simpsons …

Freakin’ is one of those great multipurpose words which serves to underscore a certain reality. In this case, NUNS. I’m in Louisville for a vocations conference and there are nuns everywhere. Nuns to the right of me. Nuns to the left of me. It’s freakin’ awesome. Forgive me but I just can’t think of a better phrase than that!

In addition to beaucoup d’nuns, there are also religious priests, brothers, friars and monks. (FYI, by religious priests I mean priests that belong to a religious community and take the same vows I do — celibacy, poverty, and obedience — not diocesan priests who do not profess vows.)

My nundar is very sharp so I see nuns everywhere. Last night I went with my IHM Sisters Mary Bea (of hermit crab fame and also my congregation’s vocation director) and Ellen (vocation director for the Archdiocese of Detroit) to a local restaurant. There had to be at least a dozen to two dozen Catholic sisters and brothers and priests there. It was awesome. Of course we ended up knowing people. I met Sister Ruth Harkins, a Scranton IHM Sister (the Scranton IHMs are our cousins — I’m a Monroe IHM), and then on the way home, we ran into the Adrian Dominicans’ vocation director and a San Rafael Dominican who happens to be a friend of mine on Facebook! Crazy!

Then this morning I found my way to the hotel gym — amazing! Every conceivable workout machine. And of course, there were nuns including my San Rafael friend.

So I am having a blast hanging out with my own IHM Sisters and meeting all kinds of nuns. The conference hasn’t even started yet! I’m also hoping to get to know other sisters, brothers and priests involved in vocation work for their communities and dioceses.

I will keep you updated on my experiences here because it is just so cool to be surrounded by “my people”. And to also spend some time learning about how to encourage vocations to consecrated life and the various Catholic vocations. More later.

Signing off from Nun Convention 2008!

Being a classic Star Wars fan (original trilogy preferred), I love all manner of Star Wars references.

Here are two funny ones that I came across this week:

R2D2 at the Skatepark

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-a_Khd5edYY

Boba Fett in the Simpsons

Last night I went to a free taping of the National Public Radio show Wait, Wait … Don’t Tell Me at the outdoor Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park in Chicago. The entertaining weekly news quiz show is hosted by Peter Sagal with scorekeeper Carl Kasell. The panelists were Mo Raca, Paula Poundstone, and Tom Bodett. They also had on the show the legendary baseball player Moose Skowron who today is a community relations representative for the White Sox.

As if all that was not entertaining enough, Chicago was beseiged by rain for the whole day and night yesterday. Having arrived early to get seats, my nun and I crouched beneath umbrellas, Starbucks in hand, for a good long time until the kindly people of Millennium Park allowed us to come up front where only the first few rows had some shelter from the rain. The yearly recording in Millennium Park normally sees 10,000 plus people, but this night it was just a few hundred wet but friendly people.

Moose Skowron was a delight and told story after story. He made the 1961 Yankees team come alive and his comparisons between players today and players in his day was hilarious. If I had my own radio show, I’d be sure to have him on.

Hmmm … if I did have my own radio show, who else would you like to see me interview and why? Sky’s the limit! Respond below in the comments section.

When I was in college, I saw an ad in a Toronto city bus with a woman mountain climber endorsing a sneaker or a sports drink or something. I wish I could remember what it was for or the exact wording. It was something like, “Every time I find the highest mountain I can climb, I get to the top and think, ‘This is what God sees.’” I used to have a copy of that ad in my dorm room, but it’s gone now, gone the way of much of my other college stuff like the milk crates used as bookshelves and the footlocker full of notebooks.

Still, I can’t forget how that quote struck me. On a basic level, the quote implies an image of God being somewhere up in the heavens looking down on us, like the mountain climber who can look down on the earth from the vantage point of the highest mountain. But to me, the quote always seemed deeper than that, as if somehow, through my eyes I can actually see what God sees. I’m not talking about physical eyesight, though that might be part of it; no, I’m talking about seeing or sensing the deeper meaning or nature of something,  someone. It’s kinda like seeing/sensing something on its own terms, for what/who it is, and being open to being changed by it. I’m grasping for words here because I’m just not sure how to articulate this, but I know it when I see it. Maybe it’s seeing the sadness in the bartender’s eye when she pours you a drink at a dingy bar on the edge of town; or maybe it’s the one thin piece of grass that breaks through the paved surface of a massive mall parking lot. It could be any situation — literally.

Over the years I’ve discovered that everyone has this gift of seeing what God sees, though we don’t always make a choice to do something about it. I will always regret not having asked that bartender if she was okay, if I could help her in any way. Her sadness has hung on to me, a living reminder to not close my eyes to what God sees and what I could see.

Having been in school more years of my life than not, I automatically look to September as the start of the new year, despite not having been in school for a while now. So yesterday was a fun day not only because I used to always look forward to beginning school but because I’m starting a “new” adventure. September 1 marks a shift in my ministry responsibilities in that I’ll be spending more time with my online ministry (this blog, the Vocation Forum, and other activities percolating in my imagination). I’ve done a lot of work with online social media over the past two years and am now going to be a regular inhabitant of the world of online community. Don’t know what that all means right now, but this is the beginning of new and further explorations!

One immediate impact that will have on you is that I’ll be more prompt with responding to comments and email! Some of you have been waiting a good long time for me to respond — which I do apologize for. My staff (me) has been overworked and underpaid! You’ll also notice changes around the blog such as the new theme by Chris Pearson which I’m delighted to have.

September also brings changes in the lives of my friends who are going to school — one of my IHM Sisters is back at Catholic Theological Union and another friend is starting her first year at the Washington Montessori Institute at Loyola in Baltimore. And this morning I said goodbye to a good friend who is leaving for 11 months to volunteer with Christian Appalachian Project in Kentucky. Good times, but sad times.

What new adventures does September bring for you?

As a blogger and social media explorer, I inhabit the virtual world of the Internet on a daily basis. In a sense it’s really not virtual because real relationships and connections are made. But the people I meet online are usually known only by an avatar, a name, a few words of comment, and perhaps a blog of their own. Real people, but filtered through digital media — as am I.

So it is always a good, though unsettling experience, to connect with these same folks without the filter of digital media. This happened to me several times this week …

1. the host of a radio show read my comments, emailed me, then called me to see if I’d chat about the Miss Sister 2008 beauty pageant
2. an actor playing the role of a nun contacted me so that she could portray the nun as authentically as possible
3. a blogger whom I respect was at my place of ministry (When I met Julie D. of Happy Catholic that M&M commercial flashed through my mind where the M&Ms run into Santa and they say, “He DOES exist!”)

It takes a little getting used to because as with any filtered encounter (a picture, a website, a comment) one creates an image of the person in one’s mind — perfectly normal. But then when you learn more about the person, have an actually encounter with the flesh-and-blood person, it changes everything. Even a brief encounter with a real, live person can be so much more powerful than the virtual persons we are on the Internet. It gives me pause to think about how much our persons, our very presence communicates about who we are. It’s really quite cool and quite beautiful.

Last night Chicago witnessed one of the most spectacular storms — also very dangerous. Here’s my story of the storm.

Not one to believe weather reports, I hopped on my bike after work yesterday and went riding downtown with my buddy Carol. We parked our bikes at Ohio Street Beach, right at the foot of Navy Pier. The beach is almost always populated during the summer,  and the stretch of Lake Michigan water that goes along the board walk is a place that many swimmers do laps (it’s where I trained for my triathlon last year).

It was about 6 p.m. and the sky was cloudy, but not threatening in any way. We locked up our bikes and biking gear and hit the water. Immediately we noticed that the water was higher than usual — normally you can walk for 1/4 mile + out but even before we got to the bouys, the water was nearly neck high. We swam a bit but mostly chatted. It was so great to cool off. Then off in the distance I saw a flash light up the sky over Lake Michigan. “Uh, Carol, i think that was lightening.” “Oh, it’s way off. We’ve got plenty of time,” replied Carol. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure lightening travels faster than you or I can swim,” I said. We kept going out but as soon as we saw the next, closer flash of light, we headed back toward the beach. Swimmers were still heading out, but as the sky got darker, I was glad we were heading in.

Just as we saddled up our bikes and started riding through downtown towards home, the rain hit. Big, huge drops of rain that hit with a thud and exploded like a water balloon. Still we weren’t too worried because we were already soaked from swimming and the extreme humidity, but as darkness descended we began to wonder if we’d be able to get ahead of the storm. Unfortunately neither of us had bike lights because we didn’t expect to be out late nor did we expect the premature darkness. So we rode safely but swiftly. About 2 1/2 miles from home, we parted ways, each to our own abode. By then the lightening was all around us, the rain pouring down, and the darkness swallowing up the city. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Fortunately good bicycling skills and adrenaline took over. I took side streets home, riding through a few flooded streets and trying to stay away from lightening, trees blowing precariously in the wind, and wavering cars. Truly it was exhilarating though probably not all together smart. I finally got to my house. I had to walk between my brownstone and my neighbor’s. The alley was lit up like a night game at Wrigley. I could feel the lightening reverberating all around me. I threw my bike over my shoulder, hopped up my back stairs and prayed that my metal door would not electrocute me. Somehow I got me and the bike inside, climbed another set of stairs and breathed a huge sigh of relief when I reached my flat. Pfew!

I realized how scary the situation was when the tornado siren started going off. Carol called having gotten home safely. We hung up, and I went to find my cat. I picked up Chloe the Convent Cat, held her close, and sat in my hallway for a good 10 minutes. The wind and rain were whipping the building and trees relentlessly. I cleaned up quickly and packed my backpack anticipating a quick escape if necessary. Cat food? check. Water? check. Flashlight? … flashlight? … where the heck are my D batteries?? Wallet? check. Cell phone? …. is it really almost out of juice? … argh! So much for emergency preparedness. Towel? check. Safari hat? check. Yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Once packed, I went around the entire house and unplugged everything, except one fan and my cell phone that was recharging. Exhausted, I lay in bed – sneakers and all. Chloe sat nestled in my arm oblivious to the non-airconditioned heat. Long story short, we made it through the night. Fitfully. The damage in my neighborhood wasn’t too bad. And we still had power, unlike many in Chicago — including my buddy Carol. So this morning bright and early I went over to pick up her three over-heated cats and bring them to the convent. Soon after Carol followed. Then it was off to work!

Now, its after 8 p.m. My house guests — Carol, her three cats, and her Mac laptop are settled in and happy to have a cool, powered home to hang out in. As for me and Chloe, it’s time for bed. I have some much needed sleep to catch up on, and Chloe needs some loving since having house guests detracts attention away from her!

My prayers are with all those who are suffering in the aftermath of the storm.

Minor League Fresno Grizzlies v. Tacoma Rainiers. Ballgirl climbs left field wall and makes amazing catch.

It’s not often that nuns get a mention in the world of pro cycling. Emma Pooley — who rides for Team Specialized and is a contender for the British Olympics cycling team — details her experience riding the Tour de l’Aude on Cycling Weekly’s blog. Here’s a snippet of her post:

Stage 1, Gruissan, 3.9 km prologue
Friday, May 16

It wasn’t an overly technical course but I cornered like a nun in a habit (actually that’s not fair; a nun would at least have had faith), and in a short little time trial like that you can lose a lot of time…

Sadly I could not comment on the post because no comments are allowed. So I will write my comment on my own blog.

Dear Emma,

First and foremost, congratulations on being a top cyclist! Your diary about riding the Tour de L’Aude inspires me to keep pushing through my own difficult rides. And congrats on being in the top 10 at the Montreal World Cup. Way to go!

Now, regarding your comment about having “cornered like a nun in a habit,” permit me to offer a few comments.

As a Catholic nun and road biker, I find that most cycling nuns (and there are a number of us, for example, visit Sister Sandy at Nunsuch blog) do not wear a habit when riding. There are issues with chain grease getting all over our skirts, flying strings of rosary beads jamming our Campy drivetrain, heat rash from wearing the veil under our helmets, and other such inconveniences. Normally we wear the habit of a cyclist — a nice wicking jersey, classic spandex shorts, a sturdy yet lightweight helmet, and cushy gloves. Yes, we even have clipless cycling shoes and slick-looking sunglasses.

And when we do hit those technical corners, we rely not only on our faith but on our skill as cyclists. This skill far supercedes our choice of habit for the ride. Whether we are in nun habits or cycling habits, we know how take a corner. No flapping scapular is going to slow us down. So next time you write about a time when you really rocked it out and deftly handled technical corners, be sure to mention that indeed you rode “like a nun.”

Blessings,
Sister Julie

Last year I wrote often about biking, running and swimming because I was training for a triathlon (which I completed!) but this year, without that goal, I’ve been a bit lax about working out. Yes, even nuns workout. I come from an athletic background having biked a lot and played team sports and just been an outdoorsy kind of gal. So with all that said, it felt GREAT to get on my road bike this morning and crank out some miles commuting to work. My good friend Carol and I are going for a 20+ mile ride after work. I used this great web site … Map My Ride … to map the ride so that we can get a good 20 miles in. i also used the Chicago Bike Map to find the safest streets and trails to ride on. The ride takes us through city streets, neighborhoods, parks, forest preserves and along the Chicago River. What fun! (And also very economical because I don’t have to go to the gas pump!)

One thing that I love about cycling is that it is very meditative for me (unless in major traffic). There’s a wonderful rhythm of breathing and repetition and being in sync with oneself and the bike — for me it is conducive for meditation. When I am done cycling, I’m tired, but I also feel very centered and can easily slip into prayer.

What practice helps you to slip into prayer?

I’m hanging out at Starbucks so I can cool off. Just installed my AC units this morning but still hot and muggy. I left Chloe the Convent Cat sprawled on the rug and licking an ice cube. What happened to the rest of Spring??

Today the IHMs in Chicago are gathering from far and wide for a cook-out, book study, and prayer. I’m looking forward to being all together. We are reading The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. It’s a series of vignettes about Esperanza …

… a Chicana (Mexican-American girl), who is about twelve years old when the novel begins. During the year, she moves with her family into a house on Mango Street. The house is a huge improvement from the family’s previous apartment, and it is the first home her parents actually own. However, the house is not what Esperanza has dreamed of, because it is run-down and small. The house is in the center of a crowded Latino neighborhood in Chicago, a city where many of the poor areas are racially segregated. Esperanza does not have any privacy, and she resolves that she will someday leave Mango Street and have a house all her own. (source: SparkNotes)

Have you read it? What do you like about it?

Recently I had the opportunity to return to Starved Rock State Park, one of my favorite places to be in the world. Starved Rock is a park which has “18 canyons formed by glacial meltwater and stream erosion. They slice dramatically through tree-covered, sandstone bluffs for four miles at Starved Rock State Park, which is located along the south side of the Illinois River, one mile south of Utica and midway between the cities of LaSalle-Peru and Ottawa. The park is best known for its fascinating rock formations, primarily St. Peter sandstone, laid down in a huge shallow inland sea more than 425 million years ago and later brought to the surface.”

I hiked a bit, talked to folks fishing on the Illinois River (slow day but some catfish and white bass), visited the nature center, and enjoyed wonderful dancing and drumming at a Pow Wow happening at the park.

The Grandeur of God (as Gerard Manley Hopkins put it in his poem) never ceases to amaze me. The earth, including its people and creatures, is truly marvelous.

Here’s one of the canyons…

Yesterday my buddy Carol and I went for a post-work bike ride. It was terribly windy so instead of doing the Lake Shore Trail, we rode through the neighborhood and along the North Branch of the Chicago River. Lots of kids were at the parks, and there were other bikers and runners and dog-walkers on the trail.

It was just great to get out and ride. The other day I had put on new tires for the new season. Old tires were more knobby for real mountain biking, but this summer I’ll be more about road biking. So I changed to something a bit more slick but still capable of jumping potholes now and again.

About midway on our ride, we hopped off the trail to head for a Starbucks. It’s then that we saw him … ELVIS!

I rode by Elvis, my heart pitter-pattering …. “it’s ELVIS,” I yelled to all who would hear me … and I waved as I biked by. How awesome is that. Minutes later, Carol and I landed at Starbucks, enjoying free cups of Pike Place Blend (coupons were in the Red Eye). After coffee, we went back to see if Elvis was still cranking out the tunes. Sure enough there he was.

We stopped and chatted with him for a bit. He said he’s known as the Assyrian Elvis in these parts. Favorite Elvis song, I asked? “Mama,” he replied. Elvis comes out every so often, parks on the side of the busy road, blasts Elvis music and plays and sings along. You rock, Elvis!

Have you seen this movie? I watched it on DVD this weekend and was blown away. Black Snake Moan is one of the most powerful stories of redemption that I have seen. Here’s the synopsis:

After finding sex-addicted 22-year-old Rae (Christina Ricci) beaten and near death, blues musician Lazarus (Samuel L. Jackson) acts as a father figure to help redeem her in director Craig Brewer’s Southern-fried drama. But before saving anyone else, Lazarus — whose wife deserted him — must face his own demons. The supporting cast includes pop star Justin Timberlake, John Cothran Jr. and S. Epatha Merkerson. (source)

This is a pretty brutal film, hence the R rating. But it is a reminder that redemption doesn’t necessarily (if ever) come without struggle, and that parts of life (and ourselves) are just plain ugly.

The acting was superb. Samuel L. Jackson not only was an amazing actor, but he sang and jammed surprisingly well. Christina Ricci, whom I adored in the Addams Family movies (she played the girl Wednesday Addams), was utterly convincing as a sex addict. Justin Timberlake was not half bad as an actor. His character is a young man trying to make something of himself but who struggles with anxiety.

Though the acting was great, what really struck me was how the writer/director of the film, Craig Brewer, was able to hold together the hardness of life with the tenderness of life … how both darkness and light are able to exist simultaneously in a situation, in a person. Redemption doesn’t mean the absense of struggle or sin or hardship. It doesn’t always come peacefully nor does grasping it necessarily mean that everything is perfect now.

Although the DVD is being returned today, this is definitely a film that will stay with me for a while.

Happiness. I’ve been reflecting on happiness for the last week or so and am not sure what to make of it. There’s a sense that happiness should mean the absence of struggle or problems in life. But how can this be when we’re always bumping into or in the throes of struggle, suffering, pain, and the like? Is it really possible to be happy–not that giddy happiness, but more of a deep glow of happiness? If so, where does that happiness “fit” within the contrarieties of life?

What are your thoughts? If you are not sure, do a google search on happiness quotes and find one that captures what you might be thinking on this.

It is wonderful to hear the birds chirping again and to see the sun early in the morning. Perhaps spring is here, though in Chicago we are always fearful of yet another snow storm.

I’ve been out riding my bicycle a few times, but need to change over my knobby tires for slicks so that I can use my bike for commuting. Though knobbies aren’t such a bad idea seeing as how there are potholes left, right, and center on Chicago streets. It certainly makes for a challenging commute! I’ve got to get out the degreaser, lube, and tools and tune up my bike — maybe this weekend.

I also have to get my little garden going — basil, scallions, parsley, garlic, chives, and peppermint (if I can find some). I had a good crop last year although the squirrels wrecked a bunch of it. Had to put wiring over the pots so the little guys couldn’t dig into the dirt.

Though I’m not doing a triathlon this year, I think I’m going to continue my weekly ritual of riding down to the beach, swimming a half mile and then riding back home. It is truly exhilarating to swim in Lake Michigan. You see the open water one one side and the beautiful skyline on the other (once I was gazing too much that I swam into another swimmer! very funny since Lake Michigan is not exactly small!).

And of course spring cleaning needs to happen. I’m still on a quest to simplify, simplify, simplify. I think it is good for my soul even though I tend to want to hang on to stuff (you just never know when you or someone else might need it!).

This morning I’m treating myself to breakfast at Starbucks …. yummmm! I don’t do this very often, but every once in a while, it’s a nice treat. So, on that note, I’m going to stop here, pack my work bag, and get going! Coffee awaits!

Saturday was field trip day. I saddled up my trusty mountain bike and prepared to traverse the city of Chicago in search of the Chicago History Museum. I write “search” because I have this terrible habit of being able to picture where something, setting out to get there, and then realizing I’m not sure where exactly it is. In a car, not so bad. But on a bike or on foot, every wrong turn is a few more minutes or miles of exertion. Not that exertion is all that bad, but it was a little chilly Saturday morning.

Anyways, I managed to get myself to the museum which was not all that far from where I had envisioned it (411 saved me wandering around for too long). I parked my bike right in front and locked it up tighter than Fort Knox. I got my ticket and audio tour paraphenalia. How hip and relevant of the museum to use iPods?! Nice touch.

My goal was to see the exhibit Catholic Chicago.

Catholic Chicago explores the influence of Catholicism on the city’s ever-changing urban landscape. The exhibition highlights the area’s earliest Catholics; Chicago’s parochial school system; the church’s art and architecture; the city’s network of parishes and religious orders; Catholic activism; and the evolving nature of religion in the city.

Overall, EXCELLENT exhibit. I felt like I was truly home there because the sounds and images that surrounded me were ones that I’ve known my whole life. I was especially interested in seeing how religious life was treated in the exhibit — partly because I had talked with the curator and provided my “habit” for the exhibit. The Mercy Sisters had lent a traditional habit that they used to wear. The curator also wanted a contemporary habit which I provided in the form of a pair of pants, shirt, jacket and my crucifix and beads. (Note: I asked the security guard for permission to take some photos of my stuff since it’s not every day you see yourself in a museum! He graciously allowed me a few pictures.)

I gotta say, it is super weird to see yourself in a museum. I felt like kind of like an impostor because I’m not dead nor have I done anything heroic like Mother Mary Katharine Drexel or Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini (both featured in the exhibit). What was strange was watching people look at my clothes and picture and read the plaque … “Sister Julie Vieira, circa 2008″ … no it didn’t say that but just about!

I’ve been reading The Collected Letters of St. Teresa of Avila (Vol. 1, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, OCD) (Amazon).

I happened to read the Introduction of the book the other day — something I don’t usually do with books. I like to get right to it. I want to read Teresa, not someone writing about Teresa.

But in this case, I was wrong because the Introduction was actually quite compelling and taught me things I never knew about Teresa of Avila.

Writing from his monastery in Washington, DC, the Carmelite Father Kieran Kavanaugh does a great job at situating Teresa in her time and context.

Kavanaugh presents Teresa as an amazing woman, yes; but also as an ordinary person who had to balance community life, prayer, ministry, and the mundane things of life.

The extraordinary gifts of grace bestowed by God on this Spanish Madre fortified her for a demanding ministry of service which entailed heavy responsibilities that drew her contemplative soul into a maelstrom of activities. (page 13)

[Sidebar: That is an amazingly written sentence. "Maelstrom" is a word not often used in everyday parlance. I shall have to incorporate that into my vocabulary. And yes, I had to look it up. It means "a very powerful whirlpool; a large, swirling body of water." A fabulous image.]

Okay, back to the quote. It’s easy sometimes to think of Teresa as tucked away in her monastery cell writing and having ecstatic experiences of God. But she was a contemplative who was very active with ordinary monastery life not to mention writing books and letters and reforming and founding Carmelite monasteries. A monastery just doesn’t appear out of nowhere. Imagine the work that goes into mobilizing people, finding and obtaining a suitable building, caring for the spiritual and physical needs of a group in transition, etc.

Teresa didn’t always succeed at balancing all this stuff. She suffered from lack of sleep and was often sick because she was trying to get so much done and to keep up on her responsibilities. That’s one reason I love Teresa so much — she was just like us in so many ways.

Many of us can well relate to being caught up in “a maelstrom of activities”. How do we handle it all? How do we tend to that contemplative place within each one of us?

I’ve updated my sidebar and decided to post an image of Saint Teresa of Avila … only question is, what does J.M.J.A.T. stand for?? Any idea?

Mary Oliver’s poem “The Summer Day” has been following me around the past few days like a small child asking to be picked up and held for a while. Here are some of my thoughts …

There are the big decisions we make with our life — becoming a nun, marrying the love of your life, going to college, raising a child — these decisions dramatically change our lives, help us grow into who we are. Then, there are the (seemingly) not-so-big decisions, the little grains of sand that slowly, imperceptibly change our lives. Days, months, years later we look and Behold! — a pearl.

What are these things, these grains of sand that transform seemingly miraculously? Maybe it’s the way my Aunt Elena used to take me for hikes when I was younger and explain to me each little creature we met — a tree, a bug, a mound of dirt, a fawn tucked in the forest shadows. That little grain of sand has been transformed over the years of my life and become an essential part of who I am and how I see the world.

Maybe all life decisions — even those big, dramatic ones — originate from a tiny grain of sand tucked away in the oyster shell of our heart. Maybe we know it’s there but pay it little attention. Maybe we have no idea it’s there until something outside of ourselves bumps into it — the wise word of a friend, a painful break-up, surprising generosity, soul-searching depression. Who knows? Somehow — even in spite of ourselves — that innocuous bit of sand becomes a pearl, a pearl of such great value that you’d give up everything for it.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it. (Matthew 13:45-46)

Excellent article that my Ursuline friend Jean sent to me … You just never know were nuns are going to pop up.

Giants’ John Mara put his faith in medal
by Kevin Manahan (www.nj.com)

Tuesday February 05, 2008, 3:00 AM

CHANDLER, Ariz. — As Eli Manning, Most Villified Player turned Most Valuable Player, drove the Giants to a championship-winning touchdown in the final minute of Super Bowl XLII, television cameras peeked at nervous team president John Mara, who reached into his shirt pocket on just about every snap of that fateful drive.

Was he searching for a monogrammed handkerchief to dab his eyes if the drive failed? Was coach Tom Coughlin’s new contract folded and ready for signature if the Giants won? Maybe Mara was looking for a parking pass that needed validation, or trying to dig out a bothersome piece of lint.

Nope. Pacing in a luxury suite at University of Phoenix Stadium, Mara was saying a silent prayer and running his fingers over a religious medal. Yesterday, as the grinning, sleep-deprived Giants loaded their luggage and the Lombardi Trophy onto a team charter and flew east in time for today’s parade through Manhattan — in this case, the Canyon of Unsung Heroes — Mara chuckled when asked what had been in his pocket Sunday night.

“I had a little medal this nun sent me,” he said. “She sent me a great letter a couple of days ago with this medal of the Blessed Virgin, and she said, ‘I guarantee you this will bring you luck.’ I did reach in for that. Did they actually show that on TV?”

Television captures almost everything, John. Just ask Britney.

Tracked down in The Big Easy, Sister Kathleen Finnerty, Superintendent of Schools for the New Orleans Diocese, told the story behind the Our Lady of Prompt Succor medal she had sent to Mara a few days after the NFC Championship Game. While watching the Super Bowl with relatives, had she noticed Mara reaching into his pocket?

“Are you kidding?” Sister Finnerty said. “I was too busy looking for a Valium.”

Turns out, the Ursuline Sisters, Sister Finnerty’s order, are fanatical football fans who watch or attend high school games on Friday nights, college games on Saturday, and NFL on Sunday. And because they are New Orleans natives, they have a soft spots for the Manning quarterbacks, who were reared there.

“Some of the sisters down here are 80 to 90 years old, and they are football addicts,” Sister Finnerty said. “So when the Giants made the Super Bowl, one of them said to me, ‘We can’t let Eli down. We have to get Our Lady in on this.’ I told her, ‘Well, I know John Mara.’ So, she gave me the medal and told me to get it to him. I mailed it to him and didn’t think about it.”

Before taking her job to rebuild the New Orleans Catholic School system, Sister Finnerty had been principal for eight years at Resurrection School in Rye, N.Y. — the parochial grammar school Mara’s children have attended. While she appreciates Mara’s strong faith, Sister Finnerty said she never promised the medal would produce a Super Bowl triumph.

“I don’t think I guaranteed a victory,” she said with a laugh. “I think I wrote that the Giants could use a little divine intervention.”

After all, they were playing the 18-0 New England Patriots. Tom Brady. Randy Moss. Wes Welker. Bill Belichick. The Giants were 12-point underdogs. Heck, it would take a miracle.

“But Our Lady has provided miracles before,” Sister Finnerty said.

Actually, two miracles have been attributed to the Virgin Mother under the name of Our Lady of Prompt Succor, which is French for “Quick Help.” During the Great Fire of 1812 in New Orleans, when flames were racing toward their convent in Jackson Square, the Ursuline nuns called upon Our Lady of Prompt Succor for help. The winds immediately shifted, blowing the fire in another direction and sparing the convent.

Then, in 1815, when general Andrew Jackson was tying to hold the British troops at bay and New Orleans appeared on the verge of capture, the Sisters again beckoned Our Lady of Prompt Succor. Jackson prevailed, with only 6,000 troops to fight 15,000 Brits. The city was saved.

Since then, New Orleans residents have prayed to Our Lady of Prompt Succor at the start of each hurricane season.

“We’re not exactly sure what happened two years ago with Katrina,” Sister Finnerty said. “But we wanted the Giants to win. So, we prayed in a sort of full-court press. I know that’s not the right sports phrase for football, but you know what I mean. Besides, we always pray for the Manning brothers.”

And for one Super Bowl Sunday, “quick help” meant 83 yards on 12 plays in 2 minutes, 7 seconds.

“Wait until I tell the other Sisters that John had the medal in his pocket the whole time,” Sister Finnerty said. “Oh, they’re going to love this.”

(source; hyperlinks added)

It’s 5:44 a.m. and the polls open in just 16 minutes. I’m getting ready to walk over to my polling place. It’s an honor and a privilege to vote. One year I was so excited about voting that I accidentally colored in the wrong circle for the presidential candidate! I caused a ruckus with the voting folks who weren’t immediately sure what to do with me! Okay, gotta run …

Now it’s 6:23 a.m. I’ve returned from voting. Voting was as exciting as ever. I don’t know why it always gives me chills and makes me feel proud, but it does.

At our polling place we had electronic and paper ballots. Sadly, the electronic wasn’t ready to go so I received a paper ballot, the kind where you fill in the arrow next to your candidate. First up was the presidential candidate. I can tell you that I checked it over and over again to make sure I was filling in the arrow for my candidate. Again, very exciting. When done with the form, I marched over to the thing-a-ma-jig that sucks your ballot into a safe and secure metal box. The digital counter read: 01. I was the first person of my district/ward to cast a ballot today.

My last words: Get out there and vote today.

This past weekend I spent a chunk of time weeding out my wardrobe — it’s not quite spring cleaning as it is most definitely still winter. But the closet was looking a little too full for my desire to live simply.

The living simply thing is important to me for a few reasons — one, I really don’t need or want a lot of stuff. Two, I don’t like being attached to stuff (as compelling as stuff can be). Three, the more clutter there is around me, the more constricted I feel (even if subconscously) and that’s not a good way to be when you want to be free to go where God calls you to go.

So back to the closet … I ended up horrifying myself because I generally thought that I had a basic number of clothing items — but oh no. Once I piled everything up on the bed it was like Mount Everest! Where did all this stuff come from??? When things are scattered about in this or that drawer, in a closet, or (heaven forbid) tossed hither and yon, it’s tough to see how much you got. Now I’m no Imelda Marcos of clothes (not by a long shot), but I had way more than I thought and way more than I wanted to have. I think the problem is that I only wear about 20% of what I have so it feels like I don’t have a lot — and I’m good with not having lots of stuff. But I discovered this other 80% of things that were usable stuff but which I just didn’t rotate into the wardrobe.

So now that I have duly horrified myself with all this *stuff*, I’m determined to do something about it. I’ve got a system down. I weed out the stuff that I haven’t worn for a while and really don’t *need*. Then I neatly fold each piece and place them in a “give-away” bag. I put the bags in the porch and leave them there to “forget” about them for a few days. I do this because if one of those items was really important I could rescue it; otherwise if I don’t even think about it, I know it is time for it to go to a new home. Within a week, I take the bags over to The Brown Elephant and I’m done!

What are some ways that you practice (or want to practice) living simply?

It’s snowing here in Chicago. I woke up this morning at 3:44 a.m. to the sound of a neighbor shoveling the sidewalk right beneath my window. Good morning! So I’ve been up ever since, praying, puttering around the house, doing some editing, and drinking strong coffee.

This is my favorite time of the day, though often I miss it because I am still sleeping. I love the pre-dawn day when the sun has not yet peeked over the horizon and the city feels asleep under the cover of night. My prayer as well as my thinking always seem so much sharper at this time. I feel like God is ever so close to me — I know God is always close to me, but this time of day seems to heighten it for me. How many psychologists and spiritualists talk about the “liminal edges”(liminal meaning being on the threshold)?

Dawn is like a threshold where the night is no longer here and the day not quite yet. They are both present and not present at the same time. Do you remember all those movies and fairy tales where the person (or thing) lives the day in one form (a werewolf, an ogre, a pumpkin or other creature — I watched the film Ladyhawke a million times when I was younger!) and at dusk transforms into another form? Then at dawn, the transformation is reversed? In our collective human psyche I think we know that these are special times of the day. Monks and nuns have honored these hours for hundreds of years by praying the Liturgy of the Hours. I honor this time with prayer and coffee (coffee being a libation of sorts, I suppose ).

Though I was a bit perturbed by waking up to a snow shovel scraping the sidewalk, upon further reflection, I’m glad for it because it reminds me to get up a little earlier next time so I can enjoy this sacred time instead of rushing into my day.

Thanks, Neighbor Guy, for waking me up — in more ways than one!

Thanks to the kindness of a friend, I was able to attend the Chicago Symphony Orchestra with a fellow IHM Sister last night. The program was called “Russian Masters” and was conducted by Antonio Pappano.

The highlight of the night was the appearance of cellist Han-Na Chang. Wow! She rocked the place. The piece she played with the orchestra was Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 2, Op. 126. Miss Chang played amazingly — an example of an artist who truly becomes one with her instrument. At one point she even busted a string! She just stopped playing, told the conductor she broke a string, then walked off stage to get a new one! The orchestra immediately stopped playing and everyone waited, tuned their instruments a bit, and then when Miss Chang restrung her cello and tuned in, they started the piece again. Quite fantastic. I told my nun that it reminded me of the song “Devil Went Down to Georgia” (I grew up listening to this on a 45) in which the devil challenges a young fiddler to a duel — his soul being in the balance. Now Miss Chang’s performance was way, way better, but she played that cello as if her life depended on it. It was beautiful to watch and to hear her.

In addition to international recognition as a cellist, Miss Chang (24 years old) is known for her compassion for others. She ”frequently gives free concerts inviting underprivileged children who would otherwise have no opportunity of attending concerts. She also regularly organizes and performs Concerts for Children both in concert halls and on TV in South Korea, her native country. She currently serves as the Roving Goodwill Ambassador for the Korean Red Cross.” (source)

You rock, Han-Na Chang! Thanks for making this world a better, more beautiful place.

A colleague sent this to me and it brought back good memories! How I loved diagraming sentences! How many of you learned to do this? I don’t think I could do it now, though as a writer it certainly would come in handy! A great party trick too! :)

It’s that time of year — blog cleanup time. I’ve found a bunch of inoperative links and some “blogs by catholic nuns” in which the nuns are no longer blogging (bummer). I also have been wanting to add some new listings, do a “face-lift” on the blog and figure out how to manage all my wonderful “ask sister” questions. So I’ll be doing some tinkering around for the next few weeks. While I’m playing with my blog, now would be a good time to ask you –

• anything you’d like to see more of?
• any new items/widgets/pages you’d like me to begin?

As always, thanks for reading, lurking, commenting, pondering, asking, and all the wonderful things that you do. You enrich my life!

Speaking of enriching, here’s a cartoon that made me smile. I just might try it out!

(cartoon source: toothpastefordinner.com)

My first act of 2008 was to drink coffee and watch a movie. No, I didn’t stay up past midnight. I went to bed at 8:30 p.m. and woke up around 7:30 (a nice, deep sleep) and decided to start the new year off by doing something unusual. I popped in a DVD and watched a movie at 8 o’clock in the morning! Which movie, you wonder? Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (2007). A good film with some very clever dialogue and scenes. Ay, matey!

While watching movies in the morning is probably not a norm I will continue, I hope that being open to the unexpected will be a norm that I can incorporate into my life in 2008.  Sometimes I think there are these silent barriers that we take for granted, but in reality they just don’t exist. Case in point: there’s no law that says you can’t watch a movie in the morning but generally it’s just not something we do. Not any more. I’m committed to being open to the unexpected even if it means knocking down a few silent, seemingly-real-but-really-non-existent barriers.

Okay, so what are you planning for 2008? I know it is so cliché to do the resolution thing, but it’s not a bad time to think about what you want to do or who you want to become in the future.

Over the last few days I baked pizzelles — Italian waffle cookies. It’s a tradition on the Italian side of my family (BTW, we are a vanilla family, not anise). My Aunt Linda is the main producer of pizzelles for the family. My sister had a pizzelle maker (a waffle iron with patterns) she wasn’t using so I snagged it when I was home for Thanksgiving. I’ve now made upwards of 300 pizzelles.

If you’ve never made them before, they are pretty easy to make. However they require constant vigilance. The cookies only take 20-25 seconds to bake (two at a time on the waffle iron). Quick, yes, but with a batch of 200, it takes a bit of time. Being the efficient person that I am, I tried to get the routine down so that I could make use of the 20 seconds while the cookies were baking.

Hmmm …. what could I get done in 20-second increments?

• wash a single dish at a time (or just part of one)
• talk on the phone (very challenging — cell phones do not work well with dough caked on them)
• organize spices (cumin, cinnamon, basil, oh my!)
• pray a Hail Mary (one decade = 20 cookies)
• eat a pizzelle (they are just perfect little yummy snacks, especially when warm)
• de-clutter the kitchen (a never-ending task)

It was kind of fun to see what I could get done in 20 seconds, though I remained stuck in that mode even after I finished baking.

So what to do with 200 pizzelles? Well, I learned from my Gramma and my Aunt Linda that pizzelles are made for giving. I think that’s why I love them so much. So this most recent batch will be packaged up in little tins and boxes and hopefully make people as happy as they make me!

On Saturday after the funeral of my nun’s mom, I spent some time at the ocean, ran some errands, and had dinner with all of my IHM sisters who were in town. Our flights back to the midwest didn’t leave until Sunday morning so we had some time to hang out and be together. Some of the nuns hiked down to Villa Maria, ocean home of the Immaculata IHMs (I’ve mentioned this place before in a post about the Nun’s Beach Surf Invitational) and some sat by the fire with a good book. I personally decided to wandered aimlessly on the beach. It’s not often that I’m at the ocean and I always marvel at its vastness, its wildness. As I walked along the water’s edge I saw lots of sandpipers and sea gulls. There were also all manner of creatures — tiny shells and big shells indicating the creature that had made the shell its home.

Later in the evening we had our dinner together. One of the nuns brought in some shells which she had checked to be sure no one was living in them. We had a great time chit-chatting, talking nun stuff, and remembering our sister’s mom Virginia. It was well past 9 when we had cleaned up. One of my nuns and I were just about done when I noticed the shells still on the table. I went over to look at them, picked one up, and YELPED! A tiny little hermit crab dropped out of one of the shells! He (or she) was no bigger than a dime. He must have really been tucked into a shell because we had no idea he was there until he dropped out. My other nun Mary Bea came over and looked at the little guy. He was moving around, but not too steadily.

What were we to do? Of course, we had to take him back to the ocean. I felt so bad for the little guy. He was probably freaked out from everything he heard from us IHMs, not unlike the proverbial fly on the wall (ha! the birth of a new cliche! “boy, wouldn’t I like to be a crab in a shell at that conversation!”).

So it’s pretty darn dark outside but my nun and I are on a mission. We must save the hermit crab. I didn’t even know if he’d live very long but I knew if he was going to die, he’d die at home by the ocean. Mary Bea and I put our little crab friend on the cover of the hummus container from dinner, surrounded him with shells so he could take his pick of home, and headed to the ocean.

I actually know a thing or two about hermit crabs because of my two nephews, but I felt woefully inept at caring for this little creature that had literally fallen into my hands.

So with great care, we headed out to the ocean, picking our way over sand dunes and heading for the sound of crashing waves. The only light we had was the eerie glow from my cell phone screen which I used to make sure the little guy was still with us. When we got to the shore, we found a suitable place in the sand to place the hermit crab. We again surrounded him with shells to protect him and hoped that he’d crawl back into one of them. I said a little prayer of blessing for the hermit crab. And then we stood up, and lo and behond, there were STARS! Stars, stars, and more stars. All around us were stars. After a few minutes of staring at the night sky, my eyes would begin to pick out a whole other layer of stars, deeper and deeper into the universe. It was quite spectacular.

Mary Bea and I bid adieu to our hermit crab friend and headed back across the sand to our place of residence. It was a night that I will not soon forget.

I have the wonderful pleasure of being with my family for Thanksgiving. Back in September I had taken a flight to Philadelphia for a nun meeting and got delayed for 7 hours on the flight out. A hydraulic pump or something needed to be replaced. For 7 hours I watched a mechanic standing on the ground working in the belly of the plane. It was actually fascinating, though 7 hours was a bit much. Anywho, I received an apology from the airline in the form of a $200 voucher — which was perfect for a $198 flight home. This is the first time I’ve been with my family for Thanksgiving in ages. I usually try to get home for Christmas (nothin’ like being with my little nephews at Christmas) but not Thanksgiving, especially now that I live in Chicago it’s a bit of a hike to get home. So I’m feeling quite blessed to be home.

One of my favorite things to do when I’m home is to catch a hockey game. Last night we went to see the Amerks — our hometown AHL hockey team. Their official team name is the Rochester Americans, but we know and love them as the Amerks. They sneaked by the Lake Erie Monsters last night by 1 goal. I cheered a bit for the Monsters just because they have a great name (my nephews referred to them as the Munsters) and because they played well. I’m certainly partial to my team, but will cheer good plays on either side. I’m no fan of booing.

Today we are out and about and will probably catch a movie — Disney’s Enchanted – and then my nephews and I are going to have a fun evening together. I’ll probably take them out to dinner of their choice, come home and play games (I rock at video games) or draw, and then take out the ice cream maker and make custom sundaes. What’s not to love??

Gotta run … have a good weekend. Sister J

I have this memory that when I was a child I used to be able to talk with animals — and that we could understand each other. I must have lost this gift over time because my cat Chloe acts as if she doesn’t understand one thing I say! Anyway, I have a great fondness for animals and, at the moment, am surrounded by 3 of them (plus miscellaneous convent spiders). I am cat sitting for a friend so her two girls, Sassy and Lucy, are having a slumber party here. As I type, the two cats are literally crawling all over me. All 20-lbs of Lucy are walking across my keyboard. Chloe is in the other room — she’s not all that pleased with the presence of other cats in her home, but she’s making do. When I go into the other room, she’ll express her disgust with the situation and then promptly sit on me.

It is an amazing thing to live with creatures and other living things like plants. It keeps one aware that it’s not all about onself nor about human beings. As fabulous as we are as humans, we can learn so much from the other creatures around us. Chloe, for example, happens to remind me of the great importance of tenderness — something which I’ve always valued but which I am reminded about on a daily basis now. In some strange way, I think this makes me a better person — being reminded daily of tenderness keeps that in the forefront of my mind and heart and, I hope, positively affects how I am throughout the day with the rest of creation — including my fellow human beings!

What have you learned from one of God’s creatures lately? Perhaps the patience of a rock or the perseverence of a salmon swimming upstream …

On Saturday I went cycling with a friend on the Fox River Trail. I’m finally getting over the flu shot and so it was nice to cut loose for a couple of hours on a great trail. Here’s where we went:

Fox River Trail

State: Illinois
County: Kane, McHenry

Trail Notes: The Fox River Trail is one of the most popular in the Chicagoland area. It winds through the Fox River Valley from Aurora to Crystal Lake, and is about 45 miles west of the Chicago loop at its closest point. You’ll bike through forest and nature preserves, and serveral historic and interesting communities. The trail connects to the Illinois Prairie Path, the Great Western Trail and the Virgil Gilman Trail.

Length: 41.7 miles
Surface: Crushed Stone, Paved (trail info source)

I didn’t have my camera with me but found some nice shots from AboutBicycles.com.

On the Fox River Trail North of East Dundee …

Here’s the bridge crossing the Fox River just before crossing Route 31 in Algonquin Illinois …

On the trail we some a giant deer hanging out in the woods. There were some other cyclists, some runners, a skater, and walkers. People were very friendly, nodding their hellos or waving. While riding we stopped just off the trail at the Prairie Trail Bike Shop in Algonquin. Chatted with the bike guy, bought some granola bars, and drank some water. By the end of the ride we were a bit cold and tired, though certainly exhilarated. We packed up the bikes and headed for the nearest Starbucks. It was the best darn coffee I’d ever had.

This could so be my cat Chloe …

This weekend I went biking along a new-to-me bike path. New trails are always fun to ride because you don’t know what to expect. It turns out that this bike path went through an area with vacant lots, a railroad yard, and some abandoned buildings. There was hardly anyone around which seemed odd. We got turned around a couple of times because it was challenging to keep track of where the bike path went and at one point we ended up near the railroad yard. There was graffiti adorning the length of a train. Now I’ve seen some pretty interesting graffiti in my time–some wholly offensive, some true pieces of art. Most of the time I don’t understand what the words or phrases mean, but on one car of the train there was no mistake. It was perhaps one of the most disturbing messages I’ve ever seen. Written in classic graffiti style were these words: “f*** hope”. It literally stopped me in my tracks. It was such a bold and in-your-face statement, yet I couldn’t help feeling the intense sadness and perhaps even despair that gave rise to those words. What must a person have experienced in his or her life to come to this point?

The thing about hope is that it’s something we always hold on to, it’s something we cling to even when everything around us seems to be going to hell. Hope can give us a reason to get out of bed when our bodies ache or our hearts are broken or we just can’t imagine getting through another day. When we have hope, we wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment, even if it seems impossible, impractical, or unreasonable. In Christian thought, we sometimes refer to God as “our hope” because we believe that God is the ground of our hope.

Yet for some people, hope itself seems unattainable, futile perhaps. I really feel for these people. I was thinking about this at Mass yesterday and was reminded through the closing song “We Are Called” that one of our missions as Christians is to be “hope for the hopeless”. How do we do that? How do we encourage someone who has lost hope? There are lots of pretty words we can say, but hope — how to be hope for someone? It’s times like this that I am brought to my knees in prayer and ask for the grace of God to show me the way, even if it just means saying a silent prayer in a railroad yard.

Alas, the temperatures have warmed up again and Fall seems to have retreated a bit. The last couple days have been in the 80s. Not bad, except that I’ve already started wearing my winter habit — long-sleeves and slacks — and put away the flip-flops. The good news about the warmer temperature is that Lake Michigan may stay warmer a bit longer so I can do a few more swims before Fall comes back.

It’s kind of strange to do so much outdoor stuff, especially as I prepared for my triathlon (which I did at the beginning of August), and then to do virtually nothing because life just got to busy for the remainder of August. Now the weather is changing and those days of biking to the lake, swimming, and then biking home are gone … for now. I just hope I can still swim (I only just learned how to swim farther than a stone’s throw in January) come Spring.

I’ve not spent much time reflecting on the big triathlon event. It’s weird how you have a life-changing experience and then **poof** it’s over … there’s this vacuum of space that was once filled with the training, the encouragement of others, the adrenaline, and the anticipation. It reminds me of going on retreat, and entering into that sacred space of silence with God. After retreat, it can be so difficult (or worse, too easy) to go back to everyday life. It’s like you need a period of debriefing, of re-immersion, so as to be conscious of how you’ve changed and how you can take what you’ve learned/experienced into the rest of your life.

I’m finally posting a little video my brother sent me of the start of the triathlon (see my nunpod videos widget in the sidebar). Just hearing it brings back that incredible feeling of … of …. BEING … I just don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like all your senses and every cell of your body is fully alive. There is a moment of clarity, a moment of in-synch-ness with God and people and all of creation.

Now as we transition into the Fall, I’m starting to do some reflecting and praying on all that has happened. It’s also a good time for me to think about and then act on my new and deepened insights.

When have you had a life-changing event and then, after it’s all over, you have to find ways to re-integrate into life?

Fall has definitely arrived here in Chicago. The temps are cooler and the air has that bit of crispness that can only mean the change of the season. I’m pleased about this. As much as I loved this summer, especially after learning how to swim in Lake Michigan and training for my triathlon, I am still very much of a winter kind of gal. It’s the season that seems to speak most to me spiritually.

This morning I’ve been thinking a lot about a comment I received on my previous post. Lil, who just discovered this blog, wrote a beautiful little reflection that has just stayed with me. I remember asking some of those same questions when I was young and had a few nuns teaching at my grammar school. That’s probably why I never thought of myself becoming a nun because I figured they were way holier than I was, more prayerful, and had a direct line to God. I was just an ordinary kid mixed up in the world like everyone else. Years later (in my early twenties) when I got to know sisters, I found people that were kind of like me. Mind you, these women were/are stellar women, wise and compassionate … characteristics I would hardly give to myself, yet nonetheless, they were human beings, real and down to earth. What Lil said about being “like the rest of us” rang true for me. And like those first nuns, I am “still asking the questions…getting it sometimes, or never…but still dedicated to living devoted.”

One of my favorite saints is Saint Teresa of Avila, the great mystic, writer, and Doctor of the Church. I was always wowed by her descriptions of her experiences with God and her teachings on prayer. It wasn’t until later that I learned that Teresa had many, many years of struggling with prayer. You’d think that she had all the answers, that she could just pop into the zone with God at will. Yet she had periods of darkness where she couldn’t feel God’s presence even though she knew God was with her. Somehow, she hung in there and has left an incredible wealth of writing and experiences for all of us.

I take great comfort in Saint Teresa and try always to hang in there even when I don’t have the answers (which is more often then I would like to admit) or can’t seem to connect with God even though I know that God is closer to me than my very next breath.

After a long car ride from Chicago to Denver (1000+ miles through a veritable Starbucks desert), my friend Carol and I arrived in Denver to see my sister, brother and sister-in-law and to prepare for the triathlon. In less than 24 hours I will have begun the swim portion of the triathlon. I think it is safe to say that I have pre-triathlon jitters. I know that I’m ready for the thing and frankly I’m pretty much done (so done) with the training but now that it is this close, it is pretty awesome. I’ve done a couple workouts — it is fabulous riding in the foothills! — and today am just going to take it easy. Still, all those thoughts of — “Did I train enough?” “What if I get run over in the water?” “What if I wake up that morning and am tired and having an off day?”— run thought my mind. It is really hard to let go of these things and to truly trust that it is all going to be okay. Yeah, I might have an off day or blow a tire or gulp way too much Cherry Creek water. So it goes. It’s been really great preparing for this thing, bonding with my sister and my friend Carol and all those people who have trained with us, supported us, and encouraged us along. I’m also glad to support the Susan G. Komen Foundation and be with people who care about helping others.

So today we’ll head to Bicycle Village in Aurora for the Tri for the Cure Expo at 9 a.m., pick up our packets and meet other triathletes-in-training. Then it’s off for a drive in the mountains. We’re hoping to make it through Boreas Pass which elluded us in the fall due to massive snow (click here for my post detailing that experience). I can’t think of a better way than immersing myself in God’s beautiful creation to prepare body, mind, and spirit for the big day.

It will be a few more days until I have the time to get to emails and blog comments, so hang in there and know that I will be responding in a little while.

The Tri for the Cure triathlon event is almost here!

Bright and early Sunday morning I will be at Cherry Creek State Park in Aurora, CO to begin the event. It starts with a ½ mile swim in the reservoir, a 12+ mile bike through the park (with one enormous hill), and finally a 3+ mile run. My blood sister Marita and my Loyola Press colleague Carol will be joining me for the event. This is the first triathlon for all three of us.

The triathlon is in support of the Susan G. Komen Foundation, Denver affiliate. Helping women with breast cancer is a passion of mine, and this triathlon is a way for me to be supportive and to raise awareness. If you have some spare change, you may wish to donate to help out in the prevention and treatment of breast cancer. You can do so at my triathlon fund-raising Web site or at any organization with a similar mission.

Be sure to say a prayer for us as we begin our last week of training for the big event which starts at 7 a.m. mountain time on Sunday.

~ from the August 2007 issue of U.S. Catholic magazine

I am always delighted to visit with Sister Susan Rose (albeit virtually) of the blog Musings of a Discerning Woman and this morning was no exception. On July 18 Susan Rose posted a nun quiz, taken from the 20 year old humor book, The Nun Book by Tom Carey.

I encourage you to check out her blog and, of course, to take the quiz. The quiz is good for a laugh. You’ll be happy to know that I just barely make it for having a vocation with a whopping 18 for my quiz score. I think it was the Mohawk with streaks of purple, green and pink that brought my score down. Susan Rose, my holy friend, has a DEFINITE vocation with a score of 26. And because she is such a good nun, she has a couple great links at the end of her post for folks who are looking for discernment and vocation resources.

Thanks, Susan Rose, for making my day!

As I get closer and closer to my first triathlon, I’m trying to get in as much training as possible without wiping myself out or neglecting my nunly responsibilities. I am also increasingly reflecting on the discipline of training and how much it has in common with the spiritual life.

More and more I hear in Scripture echoes of journey, endurance, hanging in, pushing oneself, practice so as to develop good habits, digging deep. The passage that immediately comes to mind is Saint Paul writing to the community at Corinth:

All this I do for the sake of the gospel, so that I too may have a share in it. Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win. Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one.

Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.

~ 1 Corinthians 9:23-27

Saint Paul uses an image that people were familiar with—training oneself (body, mind and spirit) for an athletic event—in order to talk about how we train ourselves (body, mind, and spirit) for the Christian life. At one level, the “event” is life itself, the challenges that come along, the calls for endurance and for hanging in there even when we feel exhausted or beat. Yet the “event” is also God himself. God is the one who is our ultimate “prize”, our goal, the One around whom all things are oriented. So in a sense we are always in training to be on the lookout for God in all things. We train our senses to discover God in the midst of the struggle, the joy, and even the mundane. We train and develop skills to be open to God, to talk about God, to spread God’s word, to be God’s light.

When I’m not overly focused on drowning or heat stroke, I think about these things and pray on them. Athletic training has given me a deeper appreciation of the ascetic life and of the value of true discipline (note the connection between discipline and disciple/discipleship).

Have you had a similar experience? in terms of athleticism, asceticism, or any other -ism that involves training and discipline? What does your experience say to you of God and/or of the spiritual life?

I found this most excellent quote on a triathlon blog I check every so often. Triathlon, you say? I’m doing my very first triathlon in August. I’ve never really been a competitive person (though when engaged in a game I do tend to give folks a run for their money) nor have I spent much time on anything other than cycling. I always thought a triathlon was well beyond me, especially considering that I never learned how to swim (my mom had to save me from drowning at a YMCA lesson when I was little). I happened to see a women’s triathlon on TV and thought, you know, I think I can do it. Not for speed or to compete against others, but just to finish and more importantly to engage in the very spiritual, ascetic discipline of training the body, spirit, and mind. Anyway, back to the quote. So I was reading this blog and saw this quote:

It is never too late to be what you might have been.
~ George Eliot

Something about this quote rang true for me in terms of doing the triathlon in particular, but also in terms of life in general. It reminded me of one of my most favorite quotes: “Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) Now I’m not talking about the impossible here. I always wanted to be an astronaut but it ain’t going to happen. But that shouldn’t keep me from learning about the planets and stars and universe. I think we all have dreams for our lives, some of which are actualized, and others fade into the distance. Sometimes it may feel like bits and pieces of ourselves that we can’t recover. But I think we can, provided we are willing to allow those dreams to meet us where we are at and willing to allow our own dreams to transform us.

So my questions for you today are these: what is something that you’ve dreamed about or some part of you that you feel like you’ve lost? how might you recover it in your life today? how might this help you be more of yourself?

I never saw people get so excited over a swarm of bugs in my life. Here in Chicago we are celebrating the return of the cicadas after 17 years.

Since 1990, they had awaited the mysterious cue. It arrived just after dusk.

Every few inches, another orange-brown cicada nymph climbed out of the soil and marched toward anything tall: a tree, a weed, a fence or a sign. The teeming mass scaled up, as high as it could go. They cracked their way through skins and stretched their ghost-white wings. Before morning, most of them had turned black and prepared to unleash an unholy sound. (Chicago Tribune, May 29, 2007)

Unholy sound, indeed! I went biking with a couple of friends this weekend at the Des Plaines River trail. As we were approaching the park, we saw what appeared to be hummingbirds lazily flying about. But of course they weren’t hummingbirds, they were cicadas. A swarm of cicadas of biblical proportions! These guys are not petite. They are rather large for a flying insect and they fly like they’ve had way too much to drink. When we got into the park, all you could hear was this humming all around you. As we started to bike into the woods, the humming surrounded us and echoed off the river creating a most unusual sound.

Scientists have measured crescendos of the distinct whirring and buzzing noises made by males as they try to attract mates at 96 decibels, as loud as a jet flying close overhead, loud enough that biologists such as Cooley avoid ear pain by wearing gun mufflers used at shooting ranges. Annual cicadas that show up during the dog days of summer are louder individually, but periodic cicadas arrive in much greater numbers and collectively produce a louder racket. (Chicago Tribune, May 29, 2007)

Now let me tell you, biking in a forest with hundreds of thousands of cicadas drunkingly flying about is a real hazard. I can’t tell you how many I ran into, over, and around. The good news is that these guys are so big you can pretty much see them coming and avoid them. Whenever we stopped, the cicadas would alight on us and just hang out like a strangely bejeweled brooch. They don’t bite (no jaws) but they can certainly hang on. I watched as one of my friends took off on her bike with five little guys hanging onto her shirt! The other thing about the cicadas is that their little exoskeletons literally coated the forest floor. According to the Trib, when they crawl out of the soil they leave piles of their discarded exoskeletons at the base of trees.

So an unholy sound? Well, between the buzzing of the cicadas and the crunch of exoskeletons beneath our tires (or feet) it was rather strange, but not so unholy. There was something really quite wonderful about being surrounded by these benign creatures and entering into their world. They transformed the park into this mythic, other-worldly place that one could only behold with reverence.

I love being a nun … it is where I find my deepest joy and peace, where I can truly be myself and flourish into the person God calls me to be. Being a nun opens me to seeing the world in a wonderful light and all kinds of possibilities. Being a nun is as natural as breathing air.

Every so often I get to thinking about myself as a nun. I know that may sound strange. You might think we always think of ourselves as nuns, but we are more about being a nun than thinking about ourselves as nuns. (Yes, I’m going a bit existential on you now.) When I think about myself as a nun, I think it is very weird. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a nun, but sometimes thinking about it catches me off guard. This often comes as a result of bumping into others’ images of nuns and who they expect me to be because I’m a nun. Very awkward sometimes … maybe not at the moment but later when I reflect on it. Some people are shocked to hear me joke with them or talk with them about anything other than holy things. Some find it odd that I have things in common with them. At these times I am VERY conscious of myself as a nun and that’s what’s kinda weird.

It’s like, when you are drinking coffee, do you stop and think, “I am a person who drinks coffee. I am about the drinking of coffee here and now.” Probably not. I know that’s a little more trivial than say a life commitment (what?? coffee trivial??). Still, self-reflection is always kinda weird because we step out of ourselves in order to see ourselves or imagine how others see us. To an extent, this is a good thing but it should never prevent us from being ourselves and not simply an image of ourselves or somebody else’s image of who we “should” be.

Well that’s probably enough existentialism for me this morning. I’m going to sign off and go be a person who drinks coffee now.