Seeking Authentic Voice

Some photos from my time living in Southern Arizona, which I found to be a beautiful place (in many ways):  Ocotillo, Saguaro National Park Night blooming cactus, blooms a couple of times a year  Storm clouds over the Santa Rita Mountains, the view from my backyard and kitchen  Sunrise over the Santa Ritas, view from my backyard  Saguaro Cactus, Saguaro National Park, but also found everywhere in Southern AZ  Ground squirrel family, outside the fence of my backyard A winter sunset, view from my backyard Living in southern Arizona took my breath away - the vastness of the sky, the beauty of the desert, the wild life, the rising and setting sun, the mountains - were simply beautiful. I made some good friends there too. And, I found a silent retreat center that I will return too one day, with a profound sense of peace, prayer, and beauty.

While on my silent retreat I picked up the "Inaugural Issue" of the Weavings. I love this journal, have for years. I love the poetry, the reflections, especially the writings of Wendy Wright. And, given where my life is right now, I figured it was no small coincidence that the lead article was titled, "The Absence of God" written by E. Glenn Hinson. The article draws on Mother Theresa's memoir, her startling assertion that "The place of God in my soul is blank.....There is no God in me...I just hear my own heart cry out - 'My God' and nothing comes." He offers this assessment: most contemplatives have discovered "The deeper you plunge into the depths of God, the more likely you are to experience how utterly inadequate is our human capacity for meeting and knowing God." He then goes on to speak about the apophatic and kataphatic streams of mysticism - that there is no way to really know God or the way to know God is affectively as lov...

This afternoon I arrived at my favorite retreat center, Desert House of Prayer, for a few days of silence. This lovely, simple center is tucked in the mountains of western Tucson, in an area called Picture Rocks. From the window in my little room the Tucson valley lays out before me - as does the mountain range on the other side of the valley, the Catalina's. This is my third trip to Desert House of Prayer in a year. I come prepared to do yoga, read, draw, knit, walk, pray. Upon arrival I unpack my art supplies, knitting, clothes, computer, and yoga DVD's. I change into yoga attire, spread out my mat, and put in PM Yoga. But for some reason my computer did not want to let me view this DVD. I kept getting a warning message about some copy write issue between the DVD and my computer. This has never happened before and so perplexed I pull the computer onto my lap and begin trying to figure it out. Turns out I need to update some piece of software. Sitting on my yoga mat, on the f...

I am spending two days at a contemplative retreat center in northern Tucson called Desert House of Prayer. It's a simple place, but comfortable, nestled into the mountain hills called Picture Rocks. From what I can tell it gets its name, not from the colors - which are shades of green and brown. Brown mountain dirt and rocks, varying shades from almost red to light gray, but still really brown. Green from the cacti - prickly pear, ocatillo, saguaro, and Palo Verdi trees. Here and there the monotone landscape is shattered by a burst of color from a flowering cacti - brilliant fuchsia, yellow, orange, red. I think the name comes from the shape of the mountains. Odd, uneven, jagged, blips of mountains - the rising height of one is broken from the rising height of another - the result of ancient lava spills that burst through the earth and left piles of mountains here and there. Picture Rocks. Along with the landscape, which is peaceful in spite of its prickliness, is a quietness that ...