If grief can be a doorway to love, then let us all weep for the world we are breaking apart so we can love it back to wholeness again.” Robin Wall Kimmerer So often when I feel utterly joyless, and completely weighed down by the weight of my own pain and the weight of the suffering thatContinue reading “day 14”
Tag Archives: chronic illness
day 13
You see, there is much I want. Perhaps everything: the darkness of each infinite fall, the scintillant play of each ascent. So many people live without wishes, calm of spirit, light of judgement, muted as princes. But you rejoice in every soul that thirsts and serves, rejoice in all whose hands reserve you for aContinue reading “day 13”
Sunday 2
you need to be very stillto hear the concert of your body to think about what you contain salt and waterknows what it’s doingrenewing itselfback to earthit is a quiet thingthis is where our riches arewe are all red insidebrimming with loveall fluid and quiet and fire. ‘Core’ Kerrie O’Brien I am on the journeyContinue reading “Sunday 2”
I am green
(all images by Kate Kennington Steer) As I mentioned in a previous post for Godspace written in 2016, I have long been fascinated by and inspired by Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), not least because despite her struggles with persistent ill health she was a writer, a composer, a scientist, a preacher, a prophetic visionary, andContinue reading “I am green”
what is it?
(For those of you who didn’t catch this first time around on other social media platforms, this post was originally published by Godspace on 5.8.20 as part of their season on the theme of ‘Uncertainty’. I apologise it has taken me so long to post here!) (all images by Kate Kennington Steer) I have lived with uncertaintyContinue reading “what is it?”
standing still for solstice
(all images Kate Kennington Steer) I am drawn to light, of all kinds, in all shapes. I am pulled towards the symbols and manifestations of the Great Light. And yet, paradoxically, through chronic ill health, I am often dragged into the most shadowed places within. The darknesses of depression are a constant companion lurking notContinue reading “standing still for solstice”
we each hear in our own language (Acts 2.8, Pentecost 2020)
How do I hear the Holy Spirit speak to me? In soughing grass, in crashing wave, in a child’s cry, in an elder’s laugh? In sunlight on my lifted face, in moonlight on my crumpled bed? In an urgent prod that begins in my gut and lies heavy on my solar plexus? In another’s singing,Continue reading “we each hear in our own language (Acts 2.8, Pentecost 2020)”
furled fire (a Beltaine Birthday Blessing)
Every year I wonder whether to write something to mark Beltaine, the Celtic feast which celebrates a cross-quarter day in the year’s wheel, the end of the dark half of the year and the beginning of its half of light. I celebrate the waxing of the arc the sun’s path makes across the little sliceContinue reading “furled fire (a Beltaine Birthday Blessing)”
psalms for passiontide: Good Friday Psalm 22
This is such a richly textured psalm, densely packed with all kinds of imagery, depicting a plethora of emotional experience, and provoking in me a vast range of emotions. It feels too much to unpack (and it is!); it feels too raw for me to want to sit with it for long. God, God . . . myContinue reading “psalms for passiontide: Good Friday Psalm 22”
psalms for passiontide: Maundy Thursday Psalm 116.1,10-17
As I write this I am at present without a voice due to a virus I picked up several weeks ago. My throat is my weak spot and a barometer to the state of my overall health, and over the last few years I have experienced several lengthy periods where I can only whisper, andContinue reading “psalms for passiontide: Maundy Thursday Psalm 116.1,10-17”
image into ikon 