CHAPLAINCY

Acknowledging these creatures as brothers and sisters…all beings of birth and death….all beings of earth and dust of stars…and all earth bodies drumming out their song…listening to this one supernova life-flash here on earth…heartbeat of the insects…heartbeat of the birds…heartbeat of the fish…heartbeat of the bears…heartbeat of the deer…heartbeat of the mountains…heartbeat of the trees…heartbeat of the stones rolled in the oceans deep…
Earth Meditation, Katy Dion

Charlie Turner

Holly Thomas

Space for Chaplaincy
 
Shall I make space for rage? Shall I make space for judgement and petty meanness? What about cruelty – is there space for cruelty?
 
Is there space for discomfort and the frustration of feeling unseen and unheard?
 
Shall I make space for this anxiety that whirls through my chest and belly much of the time?
 
Shall I make space for the voice that tells me I do everything wrong and everyone hates me? Is there space for this tense drive toward a mistake-free life?
 
Shall I make space for love and joy and celebration or remain caught in everything that seems wrong and painful?
 
How about grief, is there room for grief? And all the hidden shame and disgust and hopeless mistrust of my own life experiences, shall I make space for those?
 
What happens if I just allow everything to be as it is and accompany myself on this journey through life? Is that chaplaincy? Is that ‘letting go’ in a skillful way? Or ‘giving up’ in a despairing way and accepting things that the heart longs to fight against?
 
Can I make space for everything that’s already here? And will discernment of when and how to skillfully act begin to emerge if I do?
 
Sarah Mussulman

Charlie Turner

Marilyn Vogel

Kerstin Goldsmith

Jan Rudestam

Kerstin Goldsmith

Jan Rudestam

Mirror of the Mind

Once upon a day, 
Once up on a tall hill
I climbed.
At the top stood
two pillars of stone,
dome-shaped.
They framed a view
to the North
and appeared immovable -
with weight
and with height
and with a sense of dominance
and dominion over all they surveyed.
 
Circling them by foot
the illusion evaporated
and the spell broke
as doors appeared in each of them,
one facing West toward the Ocean
and the setting sun,
the other facing East toward the Forest
and the sunrise.
Inside each dome was a small
hand-carved wooden bench
facing a companion of itself -
here was a reverent hollow for two.
Sitting inside,
looking upward and outward,
I saw that stone was
not at all.
Rather, wire mesh
covered in small shards
of coloured glass forming
solar systems and galaxies
swirling together into apparent
solidity through which,
actually,
light streamed and shone.
Sitting inside,
looking upward and outward
the sheer weightlessness of the
domed structures
made me smile.

Returning to the spot from which
I had first perceived the
pillars
my mind played ,
back and forth,
with their two realities -
One solid, stone, domineering, and
unyielding,
One penetrable, hollow, playful, and
    bendable.
In them, I saw through to
A mirror of the mind:
    stubborn and impenetrable
    pliable and light
    and filled with illusion
    and delusion.
 
Each morning, 
I climb another tall hill
    while sitting on the cushion
and choose the domes,
or the pillars, through which
to frame my view of the world
for that one moment, 
for that one day.

Reflections from Camp DoubleBear
September 3-7, 2019
 
Kerstin Goldsmith

Anne Schmitt

Charlie Turner