Today is Sunday and I’m writing this before going to mass. I was hoping to have at least one post each day for this newsletter, but as with most of my good intentions, I’ve failed almost as soon as I’ve begun. I will need to start again. Samuel Beckett wrote the only necessary thing about failure: “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” The quote is from a short novella he wrote, Worstward Ho, which I have not read. Another failure, I suppose.
Moving on, as this post is not meant to be about failure, but rather about being lost in wonder. The last few days here in Pennsylvania have been absolutely gorgeous, warm and bright, perfect days for walking and looking at the trees in all their autumn brilliance or sitting outside with friends chatting and eating and drinking and enjoying each other’s company.
Yesterday afternoon I walked to Merion Botanical Gardens, a park just over City Line Ave from where I live. The tree pictured above, a Japanese Maple (I believe, if I am wrong please let me know) is not in the actual botanical gardens, but along Merion Rd at the edge of someone’s driveway. It’s so stunning that drivers will often pull over to take pictures or just look at it.
For most of the year, the red oak is pretty unassuming, especially amongst the beauty to be found on this road and in the gardens. But, come fall, as you can see, it just lights up. This particular walk has been a regular one for me in the 16 years I’ve lived in the neighborhood, and yet, every October when this tree turns such a brilliant red, I am astounded, wooed by God’s extravagance, by nature’s beauty and autumn’s glory, and by this tree’s particular autumn gift to the world. When I looked in my files for the photo above, I noticed that I’d taken a picture of this tree many times over the year. I usually don’t take my phone on walks and I wonder if subconsciously I bring it along once in awhile just to make sure I catch the leaves of this tree before winter leaves it bare.
There’s a book I’ve re-read several times called Lost in Wonder: Rediscovering the Spiritual Art of Attentiveness by Esther De Waal, one of the foremost scholars on Benedictine and Celtic spiritual traditions. Lost in Wonder was written as a guide for an at-home retreat, though as De Waal states, it can be read as a “perfectly ordinary book.” For most of us, an actual retreat, especially one longer than a day or a weekend, would be a luxury. De Waal’s intention with this book is “to awake us from drift and drowsiness into a fuller and deeper sense of attentiveness to the world around and the presence of God in that world.” I share her concerns that the hectic and noisy nature of our modern lives makes it extremely difficult to attend to anything, especially anything that is quiet and unclamouring. Already this morning I’ve gotten multiple texts messages, emails, even a phone call from a car dealer. That call came at 9:14am. On principle along, I don’t want to buy that car now. Sales calls should be banned on Sunday mornings. What kind of world do we live in that a sales person feels pressure to do this or thinks it appropriate?
I started the book earlier on Wednesday, but I got distracted with the week’s clamoring and so am beginning again. (Maybe this post is more about failing, failing again, failing better than I realized.) As I mentioned earlier, I’ve read this book several times over the years. It’s a slim volume, only 161 pages, and De Waal’s a lovely writer, so reading a few pages each morning or on my lunch break is easy and a nice reminder to focus on more than the stresses of the day. If you want to find some quiet in your life I highly encourage you to get a copy. I’d imagine that many used bookstores would have a copy. Delco people can try Cathy's Used Books in Manoa Shopping Center. They have a great selection of books and are always very helpful. Otherwise, your local bookstore can order it if it’s not on the shelves and there’s always Bookshop or that other on-line vendor. (I am never going to link to that vendor if I can help it. And yes, I order a lot from them and am ashamed of myself!)
In the first chapter of this book, De Waal writes about the journey inward and outward that this book encourages. She mentions the Celtic peregrini, peregrinatio pro Christo, or "exile for Christ". These were pilgrims the left their homeland to embark on a journey to find the ‘place of their resurrection’. I love this whole notion of seeking and finding the place of your resurrection, but as De Waal’s book encourages, this search is something that can be done without leaving home, and should be, because ultimately it is our life’s goal. Why else are we alive, what else have we been created for other than to become ourselves? By ourselves I mean who God intended us to be, a much harder task than the modern world leads us to believe.
(For my friends (I’m thinking of you DPK) who do not believe in God or who are agnostic, this book will serve you well as a guide for attending to the created world and your place in it so please, don’t be put off by the religious aspect of it.)
Though I do most of my seeking here at home, I have taken some journeys. The walk to Merion Botanical Gardens is one journey, which I take as often as I can. Another, which I take less often, is to Ireland, a place I love and miss when I am away from it. After one reading of this book, I was inspired to look more deeply into the Celtic peregrini. Through that search I found out about a somewhat obscure Irish saint, St Buadan. (That link there is to Inishown painter and musician, Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh’s site.) Inishowen is the northernmost part of the Republic of Ireland and spectacularly beautiful. This is an essay I wrote about that trip.
Some other Sunday things:
Wendell Berry’s Sabbath Poem #2. This link is from the wonderful podcast, The Daily Poem.
The Velvet Underground singing Sunday Morning
Wallace Steven’s poem 'Sunday Morning'
Johnny Cash singing one of my favorite songs, “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down,” by the great Kris Kristofferson: