Cloister of the Heart : Mornings with Mary

Monday, February 10, 2014

Mornings with Mary

I am making the most of the summer sunshine!

I am sitting under my 'Sacred Heart tree'. That is not

its real name - in fact, I do not know what these trees

are called, but they are all over my garden - the just

pop up and become these incredible umbrellas of light

and shade.

The leaves are heart shaped and one in every

ten or twenty turns red right from the start,

till it drops.

The fragrance of summer roses on the breeze

Water drops glistening on the Christ Thorn

Peace as light as a baby's breath

A warm morning with Mary to you

and if you are looking for my GYB blog post

and giveaway

you will find it here

http://www.path-of-divine-love.com/2014/02/five-more-days-for-grow-your-blog-give.html

Blessings

Hettienne

3 comments:

Queenie BelieveFebruary 10, 2014 at 7:41 PM
Beautiful post.
Have a great day.
Always, Queenie
ReplyDelete
Replies
rebeccaFebruary 10, 2014 at 7:45 PM
dear hettienne,
so lovely to find you in the garden of hearts! i suppose as i am gone more and more to san miguel this year the interest in following mornings with mary and postcards from paradise is waning. i think i will let them and mr. linky rest for a while except for haiku my heart. thanks for showing up and sharing the love! xoxoxo
ReplyDelete
Replies
Gillena CoxFebruary 10, 2014 at 9:00 PM
Have a wonderful Monday

much love...
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

Thank you for leaving a comment. I appreciate feedback and interaction.

My life as a Pilgrim to sacred places

Pilgrimage and sacred ritual is my foremost spiritual practise. Raised Dutch Reformed Protestant, the rich lustre of sacred and holy places offered a well of inspiration for my parched soul. My travels have taken me to many different religions, cultures and traditions. You will see on the internet that I have written on many aspects of the spiritual journey. Until I came into contact with the mystical side of Christianity. My first ritual I attended was the festival of Archangel Michael in Mont Sant'Angelo in Italy, then visiting Padre Pio. Then followed walking the pilgrimage of Bridgid, the sacred well and labyrinth in Kildare, Ireland. And that is when my art appeared in the form of paintings. Ritual grounded in the knowing of the unconscious, awakens us from the dream of habitual seeing and thinking. The conscious mind lacks the ability or maybe the neural pathway to communicate the new-found wisdom intellectually, and thus the expression through art steps in. Well, that is only my experience and understanding, of course. But I had not been an artist till I participated in sacred ritual.

My stay at Lourdes and participating in the rituals daily, turned me into a full time artist.

When one participates in a ritual (probably any ritual, but when you regard it as sacred, you add a certain 'light' to it) you are transported into a different time and space : colors are different; the light is different; everything has meaning and the ordinary become extra-ordinary. My art novena for Lourdes in particular, highlights my statement that our lives are the altar to the Divine and I strive to capture that numinosity of the sacred ritual in my photographs and altars. I only started creating sacred altars on my return from Lourdes. These small shadowboxes are vignettes, a moment in time in the life of ordinary human beings, lifted out of the mundane into the numinous, merely by seeing life as sacred.

Wisdom of Oscar Wilde

“It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style. They affect us just as vulgarity affects us. They give us an impression of sheer brute force, and we revolt against that. Sometimes, however, a tragedy that possesses artistic elements of beauty crosses our lives. If these elements of beauty are real, the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect. Suddenly we find that we are no longer the actors, but the spectators of the play. Or rather we are both. We watch ourselves, and the mere wonder of the spectacle enthralls us.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

"In an old song the Mother sings: 'My sleeping is my dreaming, my dreaming is my thinking, my thinking is my wisdom.' She is the bed we are born in, in which we sleep and dream, where we are healed, love and die. In her wisdom we remember day's broken images and carry them down into dreams where their motions roll into shadows and root, growing into stories." ~Meinrad Craighead

Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there. ~Rumi

I am the mother of fair love and of respect and of knowledge and of holy hope. In me is all grace of the way and of the truth; in me is all hope of life and of virtue - Ecclesiasticus 24:24.

OPEN FLOWER

Near your breastbone there is an
Open Flower.
Drink the honey that is all around that flower.
Waves are coming in:
There is so much magnificence near the ocean!
Listen: Sound of big seashells!
Sound of bells!
Kabir says: Friend, listen this is what I have to say:
The guest I love is inside me!
~Kabir

Pages

Monday, February 10, 2014

Mornings with Mary

3 comments:

Namaste

Blog Archive

About Me