2019-04-30. Leaving and Arriving: Life’s Story!

Today is May 1, 2019. How did that happen? Where did April go? Do you ever ask yourself about the fleeting nature of time? For me, it reminds me of the sacred quality of time. That every moment is just that a precious moment and once it is gone - it is gone forever. As I live into this eighth decade of my life, it seems to go by faster and faster. Sometimes, I wonder what the rush is? As a child, I didn’t comprehend what my Grandmother meant when she commented on the fleeting nature of time. Now, I get it!

News about Today - starting with Yesterday (see how fast it goes? I have to go backwards, in order to go forwards into NOW.

Yesterday, April 30, 2019, this is what I wrote:

It is 12:48, I woke every hour on the hour expectant to hear the 5:45 a.m. bells, 6:00 a.m. bells, 7:00 bells, 7:15 bells - It doesn’t matter which one, all BELLS. That being said, there are some combinations of tones that I like the best. Usually involves a kind of rolling of tones, as if being poured out of a huge container. I also love when the largest of the bells is engaged, the one at the top that can most easily be seen. It is not sounded very often. It is so sonorous.

I longed to say goodbye to the Monks’ Sacred Garden this morning, however, I decided it is more important to keep the privacy restrictions and be invited back for a visit at another time. I don’t want to lose this privilege.

I was up with the 5:45 a.m. Bells. Finished last minute packing. Almost forgot my sandwich in the kitchen refrigerator. Went back for it. A drizzly, rainy day. I went first to check out at the Hotel. Paid for the nine days from Easter April 21 till today April 30. Left my luggage there. The woman who took care of me has become a familiar face. We always exchange large smiles of recognition. She calls me “Lady,” so very respectful and full of kindness. The sound of being called LADY, cracks me up but, of course, I would never show it. I am not accustomed to this level of formality.

Stairs to the Black Virgin

I asked to leave my luggage while I go to say goodbye to the Basilica. I keep my backpack with computer under my rain jacket and take it with me. I take some last photos- at this quiet hour the Basilica is empty - a rare sight. I stood and absorbed the 7:00 a.m. sounding of the bells - one last time this rip. When the door to the Black Madonna was opened a Chinese family was waiting. They hurried through their visit. I thought they would stop in the Cambril chapel area for a while, but they didn’t. I paid my visit to Morenenta undisturbed. There was no one behind me. I took my time to take all the photos I’ve taken before and more. Hands and toes of Mother and Child. Close ups of both faces, and then, something strange happened. My camera started flickering on and off. I didn’t think I would be successful in getting a close up of her face. I even have a couple of totally black photos of evidence of this seeming electric faulting. I thought about what I read concerning the energy from the mountain -electric magnetic fields that some say play a part in the healings near the statue. I mentioned this morning’s experience to Father Toni. He shared that there were tests done to measure the electrical fields around the Basilica and in the Square in front of the Basilica. Most of the talk about electromagnetic fields could not be scientifically measured. The only evidence that showed up was due to some underground water. I mentioned to Father Toni, that often this seems to be true at sites of great Cathedrals to the Madonna, that are built over ancient Pagan Ritual space, where there are, in fact, underground water or wells.

Black Virgin. Santa Maria de Montserrat

This experience with my camera flickering and then working perfectly well after this morning’s occurrence, reminded me of something similar that happened when I was with a group of students visiting a site in Southern Ohio of the Serpent Mound. At that time - it was before I owned an Iphone, I was using a digital camera. When I attempted to take photos at the mounds, my camera did all kinds of unexpected things that I can’t even explain or describe. I thought my camera was ruined. I didn’t understand what was wrong. When we left this place, I mentioned to some in the group what had happened. They told me to try the camera again. They explained that there is an electrical field at the mounds that can cause this to happen and the camera is actually fine! I didn’t believe them. 

I attempted to use the camera later that day and it was absolutely fine.

This leaves me with questions about what happened this morning while photographing Morenenta? What happened? Was it my own energy that caused the malfunction? Is that a possibility? I know I am having very strong feelings about leaving this sacred place. Could it be?

What is the power of our personal energy? on cameras? on one another? on ourselves?

These are questions, like so many, that may never be answered. That’s okay. There is something about the mystery that makes it all the more special, the not knowing!

As I exited, I paused momentarily in the Cambril, behind the Statue. I remembered the very first time I was in that Chapel. There had been a red rope restricting entry because there was a private Mass going on. I was visiting the Basilica for the very first time. I heard singing as I passed the small Chapel and I paused to look just for a moment and then, seeing the red rope, I continued. Just as I was walking away, a man lifted the red rope and invited me to come in. Without hesitation, I entered and attended the completion of the Mass that was being celebrated in Spanish or Catalan. I watched as the Priest spoke and kept pointing up to the back of the statue that is present in this room. I received Holy Communion. An unexpected sacred moment for me, a passerby, invited in, given an unexpected banquet of grace, released to the world, changed. I knew I would be back. I knew I must come back. The message of the Mary visitations on the Camino actualizing. Now I have visited four times and according to the message received from the Virgin as I prayed, this visit, in the Hermitage of Saint Iscles, I need not worry, I will return.

She has taught me so much in each of the visits, especially about how I am to love her Son. That is a much longer story to share.

Red Rope at the Cambril door

Yesterday, as I left the Cambril for the last time this visit, I place the Red Rope across the entry to the Chapel, just as I had first seen it years ago. I took a picture, to remember. I put it back the way I found it and walked away.

It is still raining. I went back to the hotel to claim my luggage. Being early to meet Father Toni, who offered to take me to the train that would get me to the airport on time, I waited at the hotel where it was warm and dry. At the appointed time I went to the parking area. We loaded my luggage into the car and off down the winding mountain road to the station. Thank heaven for Father Toni’s help to get me through the ticket machines and on to the correct platform and the train headed in the correct direction.

The train arrived on the opposite track of what we expected. Quickly we said goodbye and off I went toward Barcelona.

When I arrived at P. Espanya the ticket agent spoke English and explained that it would be easier for me to go back three stops toward where I had come from, because there was a direct connection into the Airport Terminal. A much easier way than to attempt a bus from here. He was very kind and let me re-enter using the same ticket to go back to Europa Firma and then switch to the Metro Line 9 directly into Terminal One where I was departing on Vueling Airlines.

I asked several people where to locate the airline desk. No one seemed to know what I was talking about. Now I am wondering if I am at the correct airport…just a little bit of panic! Finally, I was referred to an information desk. The agent knew immediately what I was asking. Then I realized what the problem was. I don’t know how to pronounced ‘V’. The more I emphasized the VVVVVV, the more confused others were. Now I remember as the agent speaks the name back to me “Bueling”, VVVV is BBBBB in Spain.

I located the desk on the third floor and stood in a very long line to check in. Although I was over an hour early, I was worried about missing my flight. Once my baggage was checked in, I was directed to Passport check in. When I got there, I was somehow misdirected. I assume all responsibility for these slip ups. It is all about LANGUAGE!

I couldn’t find my flight listed anywhere. I stopped a gentleman in a uniform that looked like he might be able to help. It is getting close to my departure time. He says that I am in the wrong place. This is the second time today, first at the train and now here at the airport. I’m in the wrong place.

Have you ever found yourself in the wrong place? 

Wondered how you got there, thought you did everything right and still are in the wrong place?

What does it mean to be in the wrong place?

Were you in the wrong place if everything works out the way it was intended to work out?

What purpose, or good outcome was the result of being in the wrong place?

Has it ever happened that the very place you planned to be is truly the wrong place?

Have you ever wondered if it is the place or is it you that is wrong?

He marks my passport and delivers me to a different area. I see my flight listed and realize I have a long walk to get to the gate before boarding begins.I have to move very quickly to get to the departure gate. Breathless and overheated, I arrive at Gate 41 - the flight is late!!! thank you. I run to the rest room. I come back. Still no plane in sight! I hurry to the water fountain and fill my water bottle. Now I am ready to board. I go back to my place in line.

Eventually we are all boarded and seated. 7F is my window seat and I am grateful that in the very full plane, the middle seat is left unoccupied. I have a little room to stretch. I am exhausted from the stress of the journey. I sleep for a little while. I awake in time to purchase a bottle of mineral water. All day, I have been eating the sandwich I purchased the day before at the Café in Montserrat. I finish it on the plane. I will get to Amsterdam and have a nice dinner tonight.

After gathering my luggage, I go to the ticket machine to attempt to figure out how to get to Ijmuiden where I am staying, close to the port where the ship is to dock. A family is there purchasing their tickets. I ask if they speak English. Could they help me purchase a ticket? The woman knows I am going to Ijmuiden, seems to know me. I must look confused. She explains that we spoke standing in the line waiting for the airplane in Barcelona. She and her husband were returning from taking their son, Jon to Barcelona to celebrate his start of High School. This was a family tradition for each child as they passed into High School.

They looked at the map that I had screen shot the day before of the journey and determined that I would be taking the same train as they were. They assisted in the purchase of the ticket. When it was time for me to exit - in three stops - Jon reminded me to get off the train. I did.

I asked around the station about how to get to Ijmuiden, the Train folks said there was no train. I was directed to follow Bus signs - outside and downstairs. I exited the building. Busses parked in a row all along the left of the large station lot. I was making my way to the building hoping to find an office to make inquiry. The very first bus I walked passed read: Ijmuiden.  I asked the driver if she was going near the address I had in my phone.

She didn’t know how close she could get me. Her bus number was a little different than the one in the directions. She said she thought it could be very close. She was leaving now. 

I decided to risk it. With all my luggage I went to the back of the bus. I didn’t like being so far from the driver in case she could indicate where I might get off. I had myself sandwiched into a seat with backpack on my lap and suitcase on the seat next to me to clear the isle.

Signs flew by. Ijmuiden. I realized that this was a large area. Many signs said Ijmuiden. Bus stop after bus stop indicate IJmuiden. I was getting a bit fidgety wondering if I should be getting off. Finally, something in me said. Get your stuff together and make your way forward. this was a major task: lifting the luggage down, wrapping the backpack on, moving from the back to the front of the bus. I did. 

The driver looked at me and said, “I checked with some of the passengers. This is your stop.” Just like that. I was directed off the bus and told the direction to walk. I did. 

Amazed.

Amazed at the timing. 

Amazed always at how I am cared for, even if there is a bit of drama. 

Amazed I always get where I am going, even when I don’t have a clue!!!

I didn’t see the street name anywhere: Kennemerlaan. The spelling of words here in Holland is so different from Spain. Another immersion experience.

A man walking his dog, coming toward me. I have a fanny pack around my waist, a backpack on my back, I am dragging a roller duffel behind me. I think he took pity. I asked if he could direct me. He read the address I pointed to on my phone screen. “Yes, just here. Follow this street. You are at 300. Must go to 118. Not far. This side of the street. I know the place. You are fine.”

At that I was on my way, quickly snuggled into a wonderful clean room. Unpacked, changed clothes, went out for a walk. Got lost. Needed to ask directions back. My phone is not providing Google Maps because I have gone from Spain to Holland. I will take care of that in the morning so that I can walk. Walk without getting lost!

Last item. I ate at the Greek Restaurant in the same building as the Hotel Velsen. Food was wonderful and plentiful. I took more than half back with me for tomorrow’s meals.

I’ll bet you asked yourself a lot of questions as I share this part of the journey. Please share them with me. I know, the day was full of questions, but the best part is always the answers that often arrive in ways that I cannot explain.

Ever experience receiving an answer you were seeking and not recognizing you received it?

or

Ever wonder as you held the answer, what your question was?

A day of answers held!

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2019-04-26 Feast Day Vigil of Santa Maria de Montserrat

San Miguel's Creu (Saint Michael's Cross) 

Big day of celebration on the Mountain!

Feast Day Vigil of Santa Maria de Montserrat

First, I must say a word about a strange repetitive occurrence. 

Yesterday morning I was awakened around 4:15 a.m. when my Cell phone fell on my face from a shelf above my head where is was charging. This morning when I left the Basilica after visiting the Black Madonna, I walked through the area where people light candles of remembrance and praise. As I was exiting, I walked head first into a glass door that was impossible to see, because they keep everything so clean. My observation: two days in a row, head bonked in strange ways. What is it that I am not getting or not paying attention to? I only have through Monday to discover the answer to that question.

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A beautiful day! Hiked on the mountain this morning to Saint Michael, (Sant Miguel), the Archangel’s Cross and Chapel. Wind is very strong. I decide it is not the safest place to be in these strong winds. I look around the base of the Cross and see gifts left by others: money, photos and plaques, memorials. I can feel the pain and loss that saturates this place. The Wind has a big job, cleansing and refreshing so many hearts from pain and sorrow. Saint Michael is the Patron Guardian of these Mountains.

I see money scattered all around. It appears to be untouched. 

Here on the Mountain at the foot of this cross, it is not money. 

It is something else. 

Do you have any idea what to call it? 

I don’t.

I mountain meandered for a couple of hours. Listened and recorded Bells and Birds in mind’s storage and phones video. Strange sounding languages all around me. Walking alone is my preference. I center on the feeling of the mountain and everything around me. It isn’t just about me being here. It’s more about here embracing me.

Do you have a place, a space that embraces you? 

How is that different from you visiting that place?

I wish that the sacredness of the mountain was obvious to every visitor, but it’s not. Some talk and squeal the entire time they walk and never see or take in anything around them. I really don’t understand why they come here. Absolute beauty forsaken.

There are numerous statues, markers, reminders of the Ancestors. 

Most folks are totally unaware. I wish I could approach and let them know what they are missing. 

Two women at Sant Michael hermitage, don’t even seem to notice me walking into their space. Another hiker, a man, now has their attention with some big story. He stops for a cigarette. Really? Here in this sacred place? That’s like lighting a cigarette in the Basilica. 

I don’t say anything because I don’t have the words to say. I keep to myself. They keep talking in piercing tones that I find annoying. I remind myself that if I understood, I might join in. 

I am glad I don’t understand. I want to remain in Mountain Communion. The Mass Bells tug at me. I wonder if I should have considered attending today? The Mass is scheduled daily at 11:00 a.m. The time of the day is difficult. There isn’t a long stretch of time to walk the mountain.

What do you hold Sacred?

Do you make time for the Sacred in your daily life?

After a couple of hours, I returned to my Hostal, the first building that I came to on the return path. I spend time responding to FB and other messages. It has been a blessing to connect and re-connect with so many through FB. I am realizing the closeness that I feel with people I haven’t seen or communicated with for 20-30 years or more.

Are there folks that you would like to reconnect with?

What stops you from doing that?

Do you have a plan to reconnect, before it is too late?

There are an exceptional number of people here today and more and more pouring in. Today is the Vigil of the Feast of Santa Maria of Montserrat. At lunch, I ate with three women whose names were Montserrat. They are here to celebrate this special day. Although the actual Feast Day is April 27th, it is customary to begin the celebration on the evening before. There are more people coming into the Hostal. I still have the luxury of having three empty beds in my room and so far, I am not sharing. That could quickly change as Pilgrims and lovers of Montserrat flood the town.

Do you guard your personal space?

Are there times when you want alone time?

When is that for you?

How do you make that happen for your inner being?

We had an interesting and very tasty lunch. We were told that it was Goat and we think it was turkey! Go figure.

Currently I am sitting in the large area where folks eventually will be coming to eat. Since this building is new, most don’t know what facilities are available. I looked out the window and saw two fully habited nuns walking down the street, one of them has on a neon green baseball cap over her headpiece and veil! Even with the bright sun, I didn’t expect to see that.

Are there unexpected things that make you smile?

Maybe you aren’t paying close enough attention!

This morning as I was finishing up my writing time, one of the Monk Postulants, that’s a person who is just beginning his religious studies and formation for this community lifestyle, recognized me from seeing me at prayer. He came to talk. He explained the events of today and tomorrow and I learned things I would not have known. I know there are signs posted, but, I sometimes miss things that I don’t understand. Tonight, the Mass is at 10:00 p.m. (22:00 hours) which is preceded by a concert at 9:00 pm. (21:00 hours). In the morning there will be a special Mass at 7:00 a.m. in the Cambril, the area behind the Statue of the Black Virgin.

One of the Monks, a close friend, emailed this morning. He alerted me to the pre-service concert that will take place showcasing the Llibre Vermell de Montserrat (Red Book of Montserrat), a 14th-century manuscript compiled by the Monks. It is named for the red binding into which the collection was placed in the 19th century. These are late medieval songs and dances, one of the most famous manuscripts of ancient music. Tonight, they will be performed by local Catalonian Musicians.

I have decided to forego dinner which is normally served at 8:00 p.m.(20:00 hours) in order to get a seat in the Basilica. Father Toni told me, if I want a place to sit, I must be early.

What means so much to you that you would forego a meal to attend?

When was the last time you wanted something that much?

I do find it quite amazing how the people flood this place. It is not an easy place to get to way up here on the Mountain. To discourage cars, because of the lack of parking space available, the rates are expensive. People are encouraged to take the Rack Rail Train up the mountain. 

The Basilica is often filled. All the pews, seats, people sitting on the floor in front of the pews and along the sides. The isles will be packed with people standing shoulder to shoulder and front to back with little to no room to move. It is calm and expected. No one seems to have any problem with this. It is just the way it is. Some people will come prepared with stadium sitting pads, prepared to sit on the cold hard stone steps or floor.

Would you sit on a cold stone floor for four hours for anything?

I have been alerted that after the Concert, which begins at 9:00 p.m., Mass begins at 10:00. There will be many dignitaries here from CHURCH and STATE! Catalonia is a politically charged place. It is likely that the ceremonies will go till 1:00 a.m. and start again at 7:00 a.m.

Lots of reflective thoughts and questions are running around in my head. 

I’ve interspersed some in the thoughts above.

Time to post and get ready for tonight’s gala events.

2019-04-17/21 Highlights of Silent Triduum Retreat

*Written on Easter Sunday, Monastery Montserrat

I have been in church so much this week my back side looks like a wooden pew! Actually, more like a metal folding chair!

Throughout our time in retreat silence from Wednesday until after the Easter Vigil service, Father Sergi has led us with an image of water.

On Thursday evening it is traditional in many Christian churches to re-enact Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet. Abbot Josep M. Soler washed the feet of 12 people, two were monks, the others were from the community. You can bet those were really clean feet before the Abbot touched them. Jesus was washing feet that wore sandals and trod on dusty roads before entering the upper room for dinner.

Father Sergi suggested, we meditate on John 13:1-15. This is the account where Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. In my meditation I stood before Jesus as he looks into my eyes and insists on washing my feet. How would I feel? What would I say? What would I do? What is Jesus teaching me? 

You might benefit from this meditative process. You can step into any scene of scripture.

On Good Friday I meditate on the Passion Scriptures and the words of Jesus as he hangs on the cross. He says, “I thirst!” Once again, I step into the scripture. I stand near the cross. I hear Jesus say, “I Thirst.” Do you want me to give you water, Jesus? What is it that you thirst for now, today? What “thirst” can I satisfy for you? Who is the “thirsty” Jesus in my life? What needs to occur in our relationship for the “thirst” to be satisfied? Am I willing to do it?

Do you have other questions that you want to explore?

On Holy Saturday we are waiting in the garden. Jesus has been placed in a tomb. There are no more words. I sit with the silence of Scripture and wait. There is an emptiness. A feeling of something missing. We eat simple foods. No wine. No desert. Very simple. I walk in the monks’ silent prayer garden. I pray and think about my rocky road relationship with Jesus because of childhood misinterpretations and false notions. Mary invites me, “love him as I love him.” What simple wisdom. Today I find it hard to do, because it is flipping me back to a place I have worked long and hard to get myself free from.

I hold the belief that Jesus did die on a cross, but I don’t think that was a predestined mission. I think he was here first and foremost to teach us how to live, how to love, how to know Divinity, how to be aware of the Divinity, an essential part of each child of God. All of us. 

He wanted us to know that we share in the same Divinity that he shared in. That Divinity is part of who we are, that the kingdom/queendom is within us, that he sent the Spirit to dwell in us. The Spirit prays in our hearts when we simply are too weary, to downhearted to pray. It is all in the scriptures. How can we miss his straightforward message?

He taught us to take care of one another, He taught us to sing and rejoice. He taught us to care for Earth and all creation. He taught us the power of love. Love is not a thing. Love is a PERSON. We share in the life of that person.

I think in order to complete his life’s work based on love he found it necessary to accept its natural culmination in the last week of his life. His culminating act of love was to embrace the way of the cross and death to teach in the most complete way that he could, about what LOVE truly is. He modeled for us in his final acts of self-giving, how to love completely.

No one can out-love him.

I think there are humans who have followed very closely in his footsteps resulting in the same outcome. One that always comes to mind is Oscar Romeo. There are numerous martyrs for love. 

Perhaps you have one that comes to mind. Please share that person with us.

Later, Holy Saturday evening, we gather in the Basilica at 9:15 for silence and prayer. At 10:00 rain pours down and some of us go to the Plaça, the courtyard to witness the lighting of the New Easter Fire, a symbol of resurrected life coming from out of the ashes.

I stood in the rain between two tall men who held a covering over me so I wouldn’t get soaked. Two young people, from the gathered crowd, came and offered me their umbrellas. What a place this is that holds so much honoring for folks with silver hair!! Anyway, I kind of enjoyed being held up by two strong tall men and kept out of the rain at the same time. I think the video I took while in this configuration is quite memorable. I hope to attach it to this reflection.

What happened, was a first for me. The Christ candle was lit from the New Fire. The procession started into the Basilica. The Christ Candle went out.

The wind and the rain made things difficult. They had to go back to the Fire and start once again. This time being sure that the candle got a good start, they placed a glass globe over the flame to protect from the wind and rain. It worked.

The three of us, Agusti, Roger and me, made our way immediately behind all the main players in the procession. When we arrived at the steps to the Main Altar, we quickly circled round back through the Cloister to get to our designated chapel on the right side of the Basilica.

Being part of this unique group of six retreatants, three men and three women, who are here for this first-time immersion experience into the Monastic living of Holy Week is beyond telling. I am the only one who is NOT from Catalan. I am the only one who speaks English. 

Father Sergi is teaching in both languages for my benefit. It is an unbelievable experience to be so included!

No one is permitted to take pictures of any rituals. The rituals are so amazing. I understand the rule. They don’t want the Sacred to become solely a tourist attraction. I have established credibility here with the use of my iPhone for English translation purposes, so I don’t want to take advantage of that privilege and break their trust.

The Easter Vigil was filled with all the Liturgical options. Every one of the readings from Old Testament and New were read. There were at least six people baptized. I found it interesting that the children were all about 10 years old. Very similar practice to the Disciples of Christ baptism at age of choice instead of infant baptism. There was one adult baptized.

The Baptismal Font, a HUGE clam shell with gold edging, was filled with water for blessing. The Easter Candle, lit with the light of Christ from the New Fire, was lowered into that water three symbolic times. The Easter water was used for baptisms.

Easter Sunday, I attended all of the festivities - which meant I was in church again after just a few hours sleep. I have never attended a Laudes like this one. There were numerous special readings and incensings.

I lost count of how often they prepared and incensed the altar, and all of us. I think at least six times throughout the day.

When I am at home, I smudge, which is traditional incensing using natural aromatic herbs. Every night as part of my pre-sleep evening prayer ritual. Among other prayers, it is the time I hold all your intentions in my heart and speak them to the Universe. Sometimes, I rationalize, I don’t need to smudge again because we smudged at Medicine Wheel Gathering that afternoon, I will reconsider, now that I know some smudge six times a day!

There is a professional team of photographers streaming the events and taking photos. I hope they will put together a video of Holy Week Highlights . That would be fantastic!

2019-04-15 Holy Week Monday

Kicking and Screaming into the Gift

-versus-

Hanging On To The Tail of the Kite!

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Breakfast, typical Catalan. I have learned to eat dry toast with a small ripe tomato’s juice squeezed and spread over it. Some drizzle olive oil. Add a slice of thin flavorful meat , like salami, a slice of cheese, usually swiss. Leave as an open sandwich, no bread on top. Café con leche, dark coffee with warm milk, or without. Some mix powdered ColaCao with warm milk. I always think of Coke Cola, but it isn’t. It is chocolate. On Sundays, Chocolate is served hot with the texture of a thick cooked warm pudding “poured” into a cup for drinking before it sets. I add a little milk or coffee to make it less a pudding.

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Sister Mary Anthony from India Missions

Being the first day of Holy Week, Passion/Palm Sunday, there was a lot going on here. I wanted to be with the Mountain and was fortunate to find two hours to walk away from the pilgrims that flood the Basilica on weekends, especially for this Holy Week.

The morning began as usual with Angeles Bells at 5:45 and again at 6:00 for private prayer, 7:15 Bells and 7:25 Bells for Laudes, Morning Prayer. I join with the Monks in the Basilica for Laudes at 7:30. Of course the bells chime every hour also. There are Monastery Bells and there are City Bells. No one needs a watch here. Just pay attention to the bells and you know the time and the event by the sound of the Bells. The trick is to learn what the different number of gongs and combinations of bells mean.

Abbot Blessing Palms

8:30 was breakfast. Mass began early, 10:30 instead of 11:00 because of the Blessing and Procession of Palms from the plaza in front of the Basilica entrance. I watched from the window of my Monastic room as the Plaza was prepared with Palms and staging area set up.

This ritual commemorates the journey of Jesus of Nazareth entering the last week of his life leading into Holy Week. Holy Week is the height of Christian Holy Days culminating with Easter Sunday. Easter is a celebration of new life and ever new possibilities as known through the Cosmic cycle of life, death and new life.

Crowd Processing with Palms into Basilica

This is the reason why I have pilgrimed to the Mountain at this time. The monks invited me to come, to participate with their Spiritual Community in an immersion experience of silence and contemplation during this time of Cosmic awareness. All of Creation participates in this grand life cycle: life, death, new life. Awareness of my life, my deaths - daily and final- and my Resurrected/New Life. Hopefully, I die to some part of me every day to make way and room for the Newness that is mine to hold.

Aspects of what I am living, feel very strange to me. It is the first time since 1970’s that I am not leading some or ALL of the rituals myself as Spiritual Leader or Pastor of a Congregation. It is a lesson in letting go and receiving.

 

“Down, EGO. Relax. You are being cared for in a new way.”

The monks are good to me. Accepting my presence and welcoming my help in small tasks as these present themselves. Allowing me to move from guest to family status.

The BELLS ARE TOLLING, Mass begins in 15 minutes. Today, I forego attending. 

The usher who serves here daily, has stopped poking my shoulder to tell me NO PHOTO when he sees my Iphone. I have shown him how I use my iPhone for English translation of the prayers and Mass. He indicated to me yesterday as I entered the Basilica to attend Sunday Mass, roped off seats in the back are for the tourists. He pointed to the front section, “You go sit in the front." Again, I am experiencing the family energy of being recognized as a person who is part of the Mountain, no longer a tourist or guest.

There are times when I am permitted the deep trust of listening to the joy or the pain of someone I meet here. People do not have to speak the same tongue to know a compassionate heart.

There are many different mountains that we climb in a lifetime. Some hearts are full of Mountains to be climbed, endured. Other hearts experience the peace of knowing each Mountain as blessing and opportunity. For me, each Mountain I have been gifted, has been a Wisdom maker. Sometimes it has taken me years to recognize a particular ‘Mountain gift.’ Now, as I am older, Elder, I accept the gifts more quickly. I am releasing my stubborn edge. That means, I no longer go kicking and screaming into the ‘gift’ because I have learned to recognize the presence of Spirit leading. Relief!

My lifetime mantra, one of them: 

There is only ONE requirement: 

HANG ON TO THE TAIL OF THE KITE!

If the Kite soars, then I soar. 

If the Kite dips and dives, I dip and dive. 

If the Kite crashes, I crash. 

DON'T LET GO!

It is the Breath of Spirit, the Spirit Wind that flies the Kite. 

Spirit will raise it up again. 

My only requirement in this lifetime is to hold on to the tail of the Kite!

Who is flying the Kite, you ask? 

I ponder that question and find different understandings. 

In this moment, it is a collaboration. 

Divine Presence in me and around me holds the string if I awake to that possibility.

Trinity: Spirit Breath/Wind, Divine Permeating Presence, Collaborative Inner Guidance

Thinking about today’s Trinity I recognize that it is 

Divine holding Incarnation Mine

Do you know Trinity? 

What is it for you? 

Sometimes I hold different understandings.

How do you do your life? 

Are you bound by rules of cultural norms? 

Are you free to fly? a combination of the two? other?

What questions are stirring in your heart?

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It is a cool bright morning. 

The outdoors and the mountain outside my window call to me. 

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Ruins of St Ann Hermitage

Yesterday, I hiked many many many steps up to the Hermitage ruins of Sant Ann. See photos. I walked one hour straight up and 30 minutes to return down. I am grateful for the walking stick Father Sergi has provided for my stay. I am treated with utmost respect on the mountain when other hikers (less than half, a third, a quarter? my age) see my “walking stick” that looks like an infirmary cane! I wonder if they are thinking, “What is that old buzzard doing way up here on the Mountain?” Inside, I chuckle, mostly at myself. “What in the world am I doing way up here?”

Do you ever wonder,

“What am I doing up here?”

If not, why not?

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2019-04-13. Monastery Bells

Photo of Monastery Bell Tower as the clouds move in.

Today I am enjoying a day of solitude in my room. 

Spending time in prayer, journaling and meditative art.

I am listening to the Tower Bells as they announce the beginning of Mass. I feel their vibration course through me. It is more powerful, and I think as important, as the blood coursing through my body.

It is as if the Bells remember in me a time of elation, a time of desperation, a time of ecstasy. If one recalls past lives, I believe that my drive to spend time in Monasteries is because I am deeply connected in ways that I find impossible to express in words; perhaps past lives. I believe, it is about something that we have yet to comprehend. Maybe there are ways that one's Soul dimension is connected to ALL TIME and we all memories that may be ours from different time dimensions or may be the way we are connected to ALL TIME, past, present AND future. In some ways, it doesn't really matter. Something about these thoughts opens my heart space to consider and hold something larger than my imagination can bear.

My body and soul FEEL so incredibly the energy here on this Holy Mountain of Montserrat. I am more me and experience moments of total awareness when in this Sacred Place. This experience in no way diminishes the Sacred Space of my home in Ohio, or the myriad of Sacred Places that I have visited throughout my travels. Actually I know every place is sacred, because there is no place that isn't filled with the Christed energy, the Buddha Light, the Divine Spark of the Hindus. 

Although, it is unique in my way of being and feeling as it is for each of us. It is truly impossible for words.

I know that this visit is different from the others. Maybe it is due to the realization that I am now part of the Family instead of a Guest. I have a new found comfort here and a deep sense of responsibility to myself, to the monks and to this place and the energy of the Divine Feminine that it holds and emanates. A large part of me simply belongs here. I think that is the reason, that even with the huge barrier created by the limitations of language, I have still been able to connect in deep ways with the Community here.

The Bells are beginning to toll - OMG they are magnificent! Announcing the time for the Young Boys to share, singing praise. I hope to be able to post a recording of the Bells.

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Have you found the place where you are most at home? 

Does your Soul long for a place that you know, or you hope, exists?

What can you do about it? 

Do you want to find it? 

Does it seem out of reach?

Are you aware of a past life? 

Does it make any difference to the way you live into this life?

What questions are moving in you as you read this?

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2019-04-12 Capella de la Cova (Catalon: Chapel of the Cave)

This is my third attempt to journal today. April 11, 2019 - didn’t get it done. Here it is a day late - but posted! NOPE - now it is April 13th. No sense of time here!!! So much has happened since I prepared this reflection that, although it is not Fake News, it certainly feels like Old News!

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I’m on Pilgrimage into the Sacred Space of the Mountain and the Monastery, however, I have brought along my very active mind, imagination, feelings and everything else that is part of the package that is me.

This morning I hiked the EASY hike, HA HA HA - to the Cave Chapel. Legend has it that this is the place where the Black Madonna was first found by the shepherd boys. I have attached the story below. It is an article from the Internet that provides the details.

I didn’t realize how out of shape I am. It was good to do -without a walking stick - OMG! I learned a lot about me and about the Spirits that support my path. I begged for a walking stick. None was provided. I could have gone to the store to purchase one. I have done that a couple of times before. I get them home and then don’t want the hassle of the airline and the possibility of losing a Stick who has become a friend because of Security regulations regarding carrying ‘weapons’ on the plane. I am not criticizing the restriction of weapons -please don’t get me wrong. I simply don’t want to risk the loss of a dear friend who has traveled far with me, supporting me all along the way. 

I had one of my several walking sticks ready to bring. As I was walking out the door, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. 

Today one of my friends, here at the Monastery is looking for a Monk’s walking stick for me to use while I am here. The latest is that they are asking the Infirmary for a sturdy cane!!

What about you? Have you ever worried about the loss of a friend due to the rules? Rules are meant to be for our good. Have you experienced times when you questioned the rules?

What are the alternatives that you have explored to keep the rules and your friends in tact? Or maybe you simply chose to break the rules?

Today I walked without my friend and learned a lot about myself. I can walk without her support, although I enjoy and have relaxed into knowing she is with me. Fact is, her company is a joy. Her absence increases my confidence in my own ability to succeed. I don’t know if that is a universal truth. It was the truth of today. Do truths have a life span? I never thought about that before. Or is a truth, always the truth?

So much to think about, that I often miss, even in the little things.

I made friends with a mother-daughter twosome who were visiting the Monastery for 24 hours. We ate meals together. Language barrier of course. We didn’t share as much as we might if we spoke a common language, however, we came to care for each other in the short time of sign language and heart understandings, a little use of smart phone to ease up the strain of our yearning for communication. Augustine and her mother who is 90 years young left this afternoon. I will miss them.

Hmmm. Kind of like my Walking Stick friend, here for a while to enjoy and feel mutual support, and then gone.

How is it for you? Do you struggle and care, even love and then it all disappears? Do you wonder why you did it? Put so much effort into what you knew wouldn’t, couldn’t last? Will I do it again? Of course, I will. Will you?

Ponder well my friend. 

I miss you too. 

Much love, 

Always!

Carol

The legend (Internet Source)

Montserrat is considered one of the special “power spots” of the world. Electromagnetic fields are said to be strong here, and healing powers are attributed to the small dark figure — if one touches her or the orb she holds in one hand. 

So, who is the Black Madonna and how did she come to be enshrined in this mountaintop retreat cut from reluctant rock so far from significant population centers?

Her Spanish name is La Moreneta, which means “the black little one.” (In Aramaic, “black” means “sorrowful.”) She is also known as St. Mary of Montserrat, and for nearly a thousand years Benedictine monks have lived atop the mountain to welcome pilgrims to her shrine. 

Montserrat as a religious site traces back to the eighth century, when hermits lived there but not as a formal religious order. Shepherds herded sheep on the nearby hills, and, according to one legend, one day in the late ninth century a bright light shining from a cave convinced them it was a spiritual sign. 

The shepherds were terrified, particularly after the phenomena, accompanied by singing, was repeated several times, until a figure said to be Mary appeared and told them to go into the grotto. They did. There the fully carved statue of the Black Madonna was discovered. It is believed that the statue had been hidden in the grotto in 718 to avoid its falling into the hands of Moorish invaders.

After being contacted, Church authorities ordered that the statue be taken to Barcelona. With each step the bearers took, the heavier the half-life-sized statue became. After putting it down several times for a rest, the men realized the image should remain where it was found, on the mountain.

Talk of mysterious happenings on the mountain went from town to town. Pilgrimages followed, as did prayers and requests for favors, and, it is said, miracles occurred. Word of reported healings spread across Spain. However, the statue which sits in today’s basilica is believed by many to have been carved in the 12th century.

Photos:

Capella de la Cova:

Approaching the Cova - Cave, 

Cave where first statue was found by shepherd boys. 

One of the Cave windows - I like the Mountain scene in center

Replica of the Statue found here

Looking back at the Mountain - the Monastery is UP THERE. Quite a climb

Black Madonna Video inside Basilica where she is enthroned

Augustine and Mother at Lunch

2019-04-10 Monastic Welcome: Home at last!

Landed in Barcelona at 8:58 a.m. this morning.

Came a new way from the Barcelona Airport, to the Monastery. It went pretty smooth. Had a number of helpers who were eager to help with purchasing tickets at machines that didn’t speak English. There was one that my intuition said, “Don’t trust. She doesn’t have your best interest at heart.” 

Glad I paid attention to my intuition. If I hadn’t listened, I would have missed my connection to the Cremallera that climbs the mountain to the Monastery. Check out the pictures.

I have been here a number of times now and I still take pictures as if I have never seen the place before. It is always new to me. I am like a child, full of wonder the closer I get to the top of the Mountain.

Everything feels “like home”. I know where to go, what to do, what to expect - I thought! This time, something is very different. I have been watching my own reactions today.

I climbed the long staircase to the fifth floor, lugging my suitcase and carrying a heavy pack on my back. I buzzed the porter to enter the building. A new person that I didn’t recognize was at the welcoming desk. He asked my name and called Father Sergi, who was expecting me.

What interesting feelings. Sergi came out of his office to greet me with the wonderful double hug and kiss gesture that is common here and always unexpected until I experience again for the first time.

He quickly smiled his warm welcoming smile. Handed me a room key and said. You know your way around. See you later, or maybe tomorrow.

In that moment I realized something very important: I had transitioned from being a “guest” to being “family”! Yes! How wonderful to be given the keys to the queendom and expected to be me.

Much love….and I pray that wherever you are, wherever you are traveling, wherever your heart beckons you - may be home for you today - may be family.

Carol 

Photos: 

Climbing to the Mountain Monastery in the center of the spires in the distance. In foreground is city of Monistrol

The Cremallera is the train that takes me up. Photo is one coming down as we pass while going up.

My room is the top floor - the two small windows in the left corner