Broke the retreat, driving to Temperance, Michigan to attend a mass of intention for my deceased father. The mass was held at Our Lady of Mount Carmel church, over sixty people in attendance, a sublime Rosary and Divine Mercy before mass. A half dozen young mothers with a plenitude of children, I speculate a home schooling group, amongst the gathered. The mass accented my retreat orantly. Severe traffic congestion at the junction of the turnpike and interstates two-eighty caused for an unexpected delay, frustration avoided through established disposition, back roads endeavored. I longed for the retreat, grateful to return after brunch with family and friends. Driving apprehension emerged as I realized the retreat would be ending Sunday. I refused the negativity, seizing the moment. I thought of yesterday’s fond reflection upon my days with Father David Mary, the religious life, set apart in contemplation, visits and stays at Trappist monasteries. The life appeals. This week has been splendid. I recall a friend from Toledo who could not understand what I would do during my monastic sojourns–also people during the tour of the Benedictine monastery, St Andrews, imploring what the brothers did with all their time. I know what they do, and I am jealous. Thinking of the matter, a simple hackneyed poem came to mind.
Satisfied, I will sit still.
Watching pine trees grow in the wind,
Smelling the pungent sweet scent of pine needles.
The dampness touching all things.
Feeling the sun warming my face.
Hearing song sparrows nervously whistle.
A crow aggressively cawing.
Squirrels wrestling and scattering.
Silence within.
Tasting my aging breath.
It is not a declaration.
It is not a concept.
It is not an assertion.
It is not a poetic expression.
It is a conscious act of formation.
A being with God.
To sit aware, opening the senses, is enough. It is the path less traveled, a path of one who is awake, knowing who he is and who God is. I am convinced I could become whole–full within the Trinity, the Church, and Mary–a life of prayer and refining awareness, settling on into death within such a life. All other appetites and affections have been properly silenced. Marriage appeals, yet I embrace this retreat, unwilling and unable to make definitive decisions or discern drastic changes regarding the future. A conviction is affirmed. The pursuit of faith, immersion within prayer, is my solace. There is no place to go. There is no place else I would rather be. I also received a foot and calf massage. A quality amiable massage therapist visiting today. That was nice.
That is it. No more to say or quote.
Our Lady of the Pines Lourdes grotto
