Pilgrimpace's Blog


passion
October 13, 2017, 1:56 pm
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softening
October 8, 2017, 1:57 pm
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sacred landscape 1
June 28, 2017, 7:29 pm
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We stumbled several times upon sacred landscapes

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Folded among the Connemara Hills is Kylemore

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companiable walking
May 7, 2017, 4:01 pm
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a day off walking one of the valley and the ridges in one of those bits of Worcestershire, close to here, but no one seems to know.

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the wonders of late Spring: bluebells in the woods, wind stirring the winter wheat like a sea, the first swifts of the year, a grass snake in the sun.

And the pleasure of walking with a good friend.

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I’ll let you decide which one of us is which.  But it’s worth carrying a rucksack as big as that for high tea.

Bom Caminho!



advent calendar 7
December 11, 2016, 2:47 pm
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I leafed through RS Thomas’ Collected Poems early this morning looking for Kneeling which fitted well into an Advent Sermon on waiting (along with AJ Levine’s insights on the Parable of the Widow and the Judge, where the widow uses a boxing term in her constant bothering of the Judge).

In the Thomas book, I read Welcome to Wales, which I haven’t seen for a long time.  I can’t find the text online, but you can hear it being read on youtube.

Read or hear it if you can.  It may me chuckle and then think deeply as I remembered the occasional hardness of the weather, of landscapes that wrecked my knee, of beauty, of wonderful and deep human hospitality.

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making sense

“Suddenly being here made sense, a sense that couldn’t be explained; on the contrary, it was part of this sense that it musn’t be violated by trying to capture it in words.”

-Pascal Mercier Night Train to Lisbon

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I find more and more that all reading takes on the quality of lectio divina, becomes slow and life-giving.



tending
September 22, 2016, 4:17 pm
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“That day in my October on Bardsey, as I lay on my back straining to see migrant birds flying south overhead, I wondered whether I was being cradled by a grave.  Could this local curve of the earth be a human valley?  Rain clouds were building out in the Irish Sea.  A peregrine bolted fast overhead, a bird with a wandering name on an island of pilgrims, though this one was a resident.  Behind it, tumbling blackly and brilliantly off the high ridge of the eastern side of Bardsey, was a gang of choughs, rarest and most bouyant of all the crows, mopping at the sky.  I sat up to watch them and saw a nun walking through the bottom of the field.  She lived alone on the island, tending to the however many thousand souls.  She wore chough-black clothes but had armed herself against the coming squall with a plastic cape made from a cut-open fertilizer sack of translucent blue, the colour of a Tiepolo sky or a dunnock’s egg”

– Time Dee A Year on the Wing

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There are worse fates than being alone for the day with a pile of books and space to think.  A Year on the Wing is excellent – another of those nature books that expands your heart and soul, as well as knowing a bit more about the world, about birds, about people.

The knee shows some signs of easing.

Prayers for you all.