The Miracle of Presence in a Dark Time

                                                                 We make a space inside ourselves,
                                                                        so that being can speak.
                                                                                          Martin Heidegger

Recently, I phoned a small bookstore for advice on buying a book for a much younger woman.  I had no idea where to begin.

The cheery staffer on the other end who called herself Libby immediately rose to the challenge.  “I’d be happy to collect a stack of possible titles for you,” she said.

The world had long since morphed from civil and somewhat purpose-driven, into a nightmare scenario of illegal arrests, revenge roundups, and assassinations.  People – myself included – were moving too fast, grazing the surface of conversations, restive, and fearful.  Her welcome and willingness fell like a ray of hope on my morning.

A few hours later, I set out for the bookstore.  Opening the door, I was enveloped in a soft-lit sanctuary.  A small shrine to literacy.  Well-cared-for tables and shelves were full of curated collections – poetry, fiction, children’s books.  This was a space nurtured by much love and obvious ongoing care.  An unexpected haven of peace.

Here I could briefly slow down.  Out of the maelstrom, I felt my capacity for pure Being, return.

Libby had a stack of books waiting by the cash register, four good solid titles, she assured me, that she’d selected with care.
Staring at the fresh, sprightly titles, I wondered how long had it been since I’d experienced this kindness and attention from a retailer.   For a moment, with someone I’d just met, I was a real person, not a transactional unit.

Did I want paperback or hard cover?  Libby wanted to know.  A book about a rocky relationship or a sweet fireside read?
In the end, I asked her to decide for me.

“I think this one,” she said with authority.   “It’s just out, so she probably hasn’t read it.”

Make no mistake, this was a moment of poetry – 15 minutes in the sacramental space of a meaningful meeting.
A small but precious star that I will carry in a dark time.

*
The season of Advent invites each of us to ask what star we glimpse that we might follow into a fuller presence to the mystery of life that courses beneath the flotsam of our days.  It is good to slow down.  It is a practice that is at the center of my life, essential to living each day fully and well, and essential at this time of year.

On Saturday, Dec. 6, if you are anywhere near Boston, I invite you to join me and others for what we hope will be such a sanctuary hour – a time to bring yourselves into quiet.

I will offer an hour of poetry, reflection and silence in a small stone chapel set into a tranquil garden in Arlington, MA, the grounds of the Sisters of St. Anne’s convent and retreat house.  You will have the chance to find a space within, and to explore the ways in which contemplation gives rise to poetic truth — words that can guide us through the dark, much as Mary and Joseph were led, in order to experience a healing trust in the larger goodness of God’s love, beneath the daily hurdles, interruptions, annoyances, and petty burrs of each day.

A stack of clean, unvarnished moments awaits you if you are able to take this hour!  Join us, to be cared for, and allowed to simply listen and pray.  In the process, I hope that you will hear something that invites a deeper listening that you can carry with you and renew later that day, or the next, and throughout the holy season of hope that is Advent.

 

Take a peek at the Events Page for details.

In hope,
Kathleen

December 6, 2025
St. Anne Chapel
1 p.m. – 2:15 p.m.
Featuring poems from Mending Prayer Rugs