, , , , , , , , , ,

acorpuschristiYesterday I had one of those mornings when waking early turned into an amazing blessing of silence and recognition. I chose to leave my computer packed away and just sat looking out a giant window in New Hampshire at the mid-point of my journey to Wisdom School. (See Saturday’s post). Fortified with the coffee and an invitation to quiet from by ever-hospitable friend, Bill, I spent an hour reflecting on the feast of Corpus Christi (the Body of Christ) as it appeared to me on the calendar, in nature and in my own self as a cell in that universal body of love. Here’s what I scribbled in pencil at one point so that I would recall the experience – a great beginning to this “wisdom week.”

4:15 – First light. The birds were loud and luxurious, reminiscent of Thomas Merton’s words at dawn about God “calling them to ‘BE’ once again.” Moving in and out of sleep to listen. (corpus Christi)

6:05 – Full sun. The breeze makes dappled designs in the room where I sit watching the breeze turn to wind in the excitement of morning. A small chime somewhere outside calls out, “AWAKE!” (corpus Christi)

7:00 – No internet to record the thoughts that have been running across my mind like the ticker-tape of stocks in Times Square, NYC. Mostly song lyrics with pauses for breathing out praise. All is glorious! I am dancing even as I sit and hear inside the words of a prayer of Teresa of Avila made into song by John Michael Talbot. (corpus Christi)

All day long I hear within me: Christ has no body now but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world; yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body…

Corpus Christi, indeed. So on we go.