Sabbatical

God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools.”

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

“A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.”

“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”

From John Muir.

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I decided on the way to the Albuquerque airport to stop and do my laundry so I wouldn’t have to do it in Vancouver. I left Christ in the Desert Monastery a couple of hours before I had initially planned and stopped in Santa Fe. When I could access the internet, I looked up local laundromats and stopped at the closest one—well rated on Yelp, by the way. (I didn’t know such things were rated.)

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Photo Credit: Jim Nix / Nomadic Pursuits Flickr via Compfight cc [/featured-image]

I like going to the laundromat, frankly. I like getting all the week’s laundry done in a short time during the summer when I hit the one nearby our cottage on the Cape early in the morning before the crowds descend. This time I went on Memorial Day at about 10am. Still early, but the machines were chugging and tumbling.

Continue reading The Reality of Laundry

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What most moved W.H. Auden about limestone was the way it eroded. Limestone’s solubility in water means that any fault-lines in the original rock get slowly deepened by a process of soft liquid wear. In this way, the form into which limestone grows over time is determined by its first flaws. For Auden, this was a human as well as geological quality: he found in limestone an honesty—an acknowledgement that we are defined by our faults as by our substance.” —from The Wild Places by Robert Macfarlane

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Photo Credit: Paulo Etxeberria Flickr via Compfight cc[/featured-image]

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My first week of sabbatical is drawing to an end, which on one hand cannot seem possible, and on the other it seems like it has been longer already. I needed the time to decompress. The first couple of days I slept. A lot. Going to bed early and rising later than normal. Snatching a nap or two in the afternoon. Dozing while reading a book. I knew I’d go in to this sabbatical tired, I just didn’t realize how much.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]
I needed the quiet. And the beauty of the landscape. It’s immense. The canyon walls expose layered rock, years of sediment shown. The colors of the rock run from red and ochre to nearly white. The layers run along the entirety of the mesa. The walls easily go up 800 to a 1000 feet or more, formations carved by the passing of time and the running of a river.

Continue reading Reflections from Christ in the Desert

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St. Francis stands, arms outstretched, in the courtyard garden. He’s been crafted from an old log by one of the monks. He looks back toward the guesthouse with his sign of blessing, and I suspect he’s facing that way intentionally, since every guest will be looking out at the view. Francis bestows blessing on each one of us who are so enraptured by the beauty of God’s handiwork.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

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In the Desert the most urgent thing is — to wait.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]
The desert does not take kindly to those who tackle it at breakneck speed, subjecting it to their plans and deadlines. It soon takes its revenge and makes them pay dearly for their presumption. Instead, the desert welcomes those who shed their sandals of speed and walk slowly in their barefeet, letting them by caressed and burnt by the sand.
If you have no ambition to conquer the desert, if you do not think you are in charge, if you can calmly wait for things to be done, then the desert will not consider you an intruder and will reveal its secrets to you.
—Alessandro Pronzato

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My allergies have been kicking up at the monastery after having a fairly easy spring back in Boston. I brought enough Claritin to last my first two weeks, but I found that the incense used during some of the services really set me off. I needed stronger backup to my daily med.
But the closest pharmacy is an hour plus away. Rather than be miserable my last day and a half, I decided to drive out to get something.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]
While at the store—and back on the grid—I called to check in with Melissa and the kids, and my phone also automatically downloaded email. Since I had to make so many reservations for my sabbatical, I needed to have an email address ready, so I pulled out one I hadn’t used very much in recent years. Back when I was setting up St. Mark’s weekly email when I first arrived, I used this esoteric address as a test. But I forgot to unsubscribe it before I left. While quickly scrolling through a few emails, I saw one about a funeral.

Continue reading When the Wilderness Hits Close to Home

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May 24, 2017 — Christ in the Desert Monastery, Abiquiu, N.M.
After breakfast in the refectory, I turn to walk along the river. A coyote high up on the eastern mesa which towers above the monastery calls out—more of a bark. The sound carries along the canyon walls. I suspect the morning light has flooded the area where he sits, and so he gives voice. I hear the bark every minute or so.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]
As I near the river, five Canada geese and at least fifteen goslings between them begin honking and moving toward the river’s edge. I’ve scared them, pushing them in to action. They continue to sound as I near the bank, and they all slide into the water. The swift current carries them south on the Chama River. As they make their way across, the mothers remain furthest down stream in the group, acting as a bumper so the little ones won’t get swept away. The honking continues until they arrive at the far side, and all clamber onto the opposite shore.

Continue reading From my Journal

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A simple dirt road—Forrest Service Road 151—winds for thirteen miles along the Chama River and into Chama Canyon before it ends at the Monastery of Christ in the Desert. Due to the single lane and the conditions, it can take you north of 45 minutes to traverse the road. I suspect it takes the first time visitor even longer—or at least this first time visitor—who stops often to soak in the breathtaking scenery.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

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May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you; may he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm; may he bring you home rejoicing: at the wonders he has shown you; may he bring you home rejoicing: once again into our doors.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Photo Credit: lsten Flickr via Compfight cc[/featured-image]

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