Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

My two or three faithful readers will have noted that I took down the last three flames I had posted about the troubles at my former parish. This was not done to minimize those troubles, or the exquisite pain they have caused to all my friends who, along with myself, became unwelcome in the place where they had worshiped, in most cases, for decades. Nor was this done because I lost my nerve. I haven't. I tried to speak up to the Rector when I saw things going terribly wrong at the Church on the Pike, and I tried to maintain that commentary on this blog as the situation evolved (or devolved, depending on your point of view). Now, every time I drive by the church, I expect to see a FOR SALE sign out front. The situation has become so grave that it is now in the capable and godly hands of our Bishop. I have said what I thought needed saying. Now, the Holy Spirit and the Bishop must do the sorting-out, and those of us who still care about the Church on the Pike must continue to suppor

It's September already? Where did the summer go? Not that we had much of a summer until the middle of August. But who's complaining? Well, I suppose it's time I account for myself. I was busy this summer, though not, obviously, busy with blogging. A short summary of the season (with some pictures) is now in order. At the end of July, I attended a convention in Washington, DC. I went a day ahead of time, and spent the day at one of my favorite places in the universe, the National Cathedral. I did the tour and attended the noon Eucharist. And I shopped ... and shopped ... We sent the Little Princess off to dental school! I had some unexpected gardening success: my hibiscus, now in its third summer, bloomed gloriously; and the clematis I had given up on did the same. I completed two blankets, in similar granny-square patterns, for the Linus Project, which gives blankets to children with cancer. And I have lost 35 pounds, and I'm only 5 pounds from the goal!! Stay tuned.

Do you remember what you were doing in July of 1969? Quite a lot happened that month. In Britain, Charles became Prince of Wales; I recall watching the ceremony on (black-and-white) TV, and wishing I could meet him. Probably just as well I didn't in the event. The United States put a man on the moon. I watched those grainy images as well. I was fifteen, about to turn sixteen, and I had my first boyfriend, a guy named Bob. He later became a doctor, and turned out to be a wife-abuser or something equally nasty. Bob, if you ever read this, thanks for dumping me! I survived the heartbreak somehow! July of 1969 was also the month I went to Europe with my parents -- a whirlwind, two-week jaunt to London, Paris, and Rome. None of us had ever been on an airplane before. Mom made us all dress up -- it seemed like quite an event. Nowadays I fly in jeans and a tee-shirt (this happens to be what I live in, anyway ...), but I remember I had a two-piece outfit, a flowered skirt and matching ves

I'm home and blogging again, after a wonderful journey. From June 9-14, I was on retreat in Wisconsin with other affiliates of the Order of Julian of Norwich, and then attended our annual JulianFest at the same location. What a heavenly interlude! I would like to be able to do this more often! This was my very first experience of a silent retreat lasting longer than a day. The facility we used this year is the Redemptorist Retreat Center , located on Crooked Lake in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. It's a fabulous place, as you'll see if you hit the link. I had my own room with a private bathroom instead of a shared one, and more private time than I had believed possible in my busy life. In fact, after a day fraught with travel delays due to thunderstorms, I had trouble settling down to silence. Out for an early-morning walk the next morning, I noticed that the house of the resident monks was outfitted with a most impressive satellite dish, and found myself pining for CNN. Fortunatel

OK, you already know I'm different ... I was one of those odd teenagers who love to stay in their room and read. Of course, I had friends, and I saw a lot of them; but if no one was around, no problem! I loved solitude. I stayed happily alone and read, or wrote stories. My mother actually locked me outside in the summer! Fearing this, I often concealed a book in a plastic bag underneath the hydrangea bushes. I am fond of hydrangeas to this day. As an adult, I still love solitude, especially when I get to share it with dogs. I spend my lunch hours reading, either in a remote corner of the courtyard, or in a cozy place I have discovered up in the stacks, by a sunny window. I love the anonymity of the subway, and dread to meet someone I know on the platform, since I'm not good at small talk. I have been known to scurry to the other end of the train if I see a familiar face (and am not seen first). So I wasn't much surprised when, having recently picked up a copy of The S