Kathleen Hirsch | Crux
Writing and musings by author Kathleen Hirsch.
kathleen hirsch, writer, spiritual director, boston, ma, spiritual writing
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Crux

Kathleen Hirsch Cruxnow.com

Bright lights and shadows

I sometimes wonder if seeing in the light isn’t harder for us than seeing in the dark. This season’s political circus and refugee crises make it difficult to turn from the chronic glare to the dimmer refuges. Our gridlocked calendars only make it worse. We are like deer in the headlights — those trained on us, and those we train on ourselves.

At the moment, my Lenten practice involves stripping down my schedule. Reducing my list of lunches, volunteer meetings, charitable dinners — the extras that accumulate around my hours of actual work — is far more difficult than I’d expected.

The sheer volume of activity has forced me to ask myself a hard question: What was I thinking, when I said yes to more than I could manage?

Ah. Isn’t that the question?READ MORE

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Desert Experience, Suffering, Gratitude, Kathleen Hirsch

The unvarnished desert

Recently a dear friend e-mailed, “It really ticks me off that I have to share this news with people I love.” Her cancer has returned.

There are many ways to enter the deserts of life. Most of them are involuntary.

The longed-for play date is canceled without explanation, leaving a lonely child in despair. The wife sticks a note by the empty closet: I am gone. An abusive father dies, leaving us to resolve our wounds alone.

None of us ask for grievous inner dislocation.READ MORE

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Firewood ashes, Cruz Now post by Kathleen Hirsch

Bending our days to the building of good fires

He was out there before I was on a frigid January morning, loading firewood from his barn to the back of his truck. I trotted over, guilty of having overslept. It was 7:30 and the agreed-upon-time had been an hour ago. He is a country man, a father and a teacher, and he was doing me a favor. I’d equipped a barn with a wood-burning stove, but had no clue how to make it work. He sold wood on the side, extra income for his family — beautiful cords that he split himself, and he’d offered to take part of his precious Sunday morning to stock me up.READ MORE

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