BC Autumn Photos, fond and spiritual memories

The Autumn in British Columbia is so beautiful. I’ve taken pictures in my walks and travels and put some up with the journal entries. I just thought today I’d put up some of my favourites here. I often upload photos straight to Facebook. They are there but they’re not in this ‘blog’, my journal.  Sometimes I just open the blog to a year before  any date I’m at to see what I was doing this time last year.  A journal is marvellous thing. I am blessed with work, and family and friends and Gilbert, my cockapoo.

I would have a better attitude, know more joy, be more loving. But I learned that one could be a ‘monk’ and stay removed from this world or ‘participate’.  The idea of ‘detach with love’ expressed the notion of wearing life as a ‘loose robe’ rather than a tight fitting straight jacket.  

All the character defects and addictions are about being attached to this world. CS Lewis says ‘stop looking for the architect in the wall’.  I’m just amazed at the wonder and beauty of creation.  In the Celtic Christian tradition one knows God through the trinity of scripture and gospel, the message of nature and science, so called creation theology, and guided spirituality.  

St. John of the Cross was St. Theresa, the great Christian mystic’s ‘spiritual director’.  Dr. James Houston who taught Christian Spirituality at Regent College emphasized the need for a spiritual director. My deeply wise and loving friend, Kirk has Prem as his spiritual guide. Alcoholics Anonymous and the other 12 step spiritual programs  recommend each person have a sponsor. This is essentially a ‘buddy system’.  The Catholics call the other, the great ‘mystery’.  The Cloud of Unconsciousness refers to the inner world of grace and mystery.  We joke and say our minds are bad neighbourhoods and we shouldn’t go there alone. 

 Trungpa the  Buddhist spiritual leader describes the western mind as grasping and damaged by ‘consumerism’ hence approaching spirituality as ‘spiritual consumerism’.   Alone one can be a ‘fool on the hill’.   Thomas Merton, the  catholic monk who studied with the eastern monks noted they were never alone but always lived in loose community like the early mystical Desert Fathers of the Christianity.  The church is a ‘community’ of fellow travellers.  Pilgrim’s Progress is an early sometimes humorous tale of the  Christian path.  

The mystical experience has been called the Way, the Flow, the 4th dimension. Dr. Carl Jung called it the latter and Spiritual Followers of the 12 steps described the natural high that came from being released from the ‘bondage of self’ and ‘addiction’ to the  ‘false god’ of ‘attachment to the things of this world’ as ‘rocketed into the fourth dimension. A natural high is best seen in the joy of a baby.  

Buber described the journey from “I and It”,  to “I and you”  to “I and Thou”. To the spiritual all is God and I am but an observer.  The sacredness of creation is always there to be seen in its beauty and wonder if only one humbles oneself and lets oneself be lifted, as on ‘eagles wings’.  

I like photography. I like even more sketching and painting.  When I have more free time I love to sketch.  These ‘states’ of mind are different from the ‘monkey mind’ of day to day creation, doing , and struggling, being like the Martha of the of the Martha and Mary of the Bible.  It’s so easy to  forget  leave enough time for reflection and joy.  Prayer is talking to God. Meditation is listening to God.  

 Anxiety has been said to be ‘a measure of one’s distance from God , and equally a measure of one’s humanity’.  I pray, Thy will, not my will be done but very quickly I’m grabbing the steering wheel.  Paramahansa Yoganada taught that there were many ways to get on a plane but unfortunately most didn’t involve a pilot. I always think of that when addicts tell me ‘they got high’.  I much prefer the  military pastors  depiction of Jesus as the ‘sky pilot’.  

Beauty is uplifting. It gives me a positive feeling to see the wonders that God has made. The miracle of this existence is so intelligent and sacred. I like to capture pictures of nature and those around me that have as such ‘touched my soul’.

Clonmacnoise Monastery, Ireland

When I asked my go to Irish poet artist friend,Joyce Goodwin, where I should go to see monasteries, she emphasized Clonmacnoise. The west is especially known for it’s sacred place.  I suspect now that some of this had to do with the excellent nearby harbours .  Waterways were the roads of the day when after the fall of the Roman Empire travel overland was impeded by bandits, war loads, and ungodly tariffs.  The risk of ocean and even pirates was better. Ireland was closer to the Mediterranean and that area of ancient learning, connecting to the East than modern day Germany was to Italy.
Clonmacnoise Monastery is situated near Shannonbridge south of Athlone.  We found it heading across Ireland between Galway and Dublin. It was a major centre of religion, learning, trade. It was also a place for artisans. Laura and I saw the Clonmacnoise Crozier on display at the National Museum of Ireland. The Cross of Scriptures is considered to be the height of High Cross craftsmanship  Many of the high kings of Tara were buried here.
Saint Ciaran met Diarmait UiCerbaill who helped build the first church at this site.  Diarmait was to be the first Christian to be crowned High King of Ireland. St. Ciaran died in 544 ad.
Clamacnoise was at it’s height between 8 and 12th centuries. We saw the Clonmacnoise Crozier in the National Museum.
Laura and I loved the site with the beautiful view of the river.  Cows were grazing beside it.  There was an old ruins down the way which is likely where the old bridge was.  Temple Finghin and McCarthy’s Tower of the 11 th century are there. The O Rourke Tower finished in 1124 by King of Cnnacht O’ Connor, lost it’s upper  part when it was struck by lightning in 1134.
The North Cross, oldest of the three main crosses was built circa 800.  It has an image of Cernunnos, the Celtic god of hunting and fertility displayed on the east face.
The Cross of the Scriptures is an amazing high sandstone cross that has been moved inside for protection.  The museum housing it faced the replacement cross on the site.  It is 4 metre high  Clare sandstone carved circa 900 ad. The cross is divided into panels including the Crucifixion and Last Judgement.
The South Cross built in 9th Century is also on display inside by the interpretative site with the replica on site.
The Cathedral was built around 909 and is where the last high King of Ireland, Rory O’Connor was buried in 1198.
The roofed building held a church service still weekly. Beyond the wall there was a newer grave yard.  Further on there was the Nun’s Church.
Laura and I wandered about this site. It wasn’t that busy.  There were no major line ups not even for the on site toilets. There was a little back up at the cafe where we had a coffee after touring the site. The gift shop near the parking lot which was almost full when we arrived was excellent.  At such sights we just walked and sat and meditated and talked with God. These places are sacred in that way.
I imagine a place chosen for it’s peacefulness and purpose and then for thousands of years used as a site of learning and prayer.  This seems to rub off on the ions of a place if such a thing could be said, in an unscientific way.  It’s like the air is touched. The land seems less solid. There’s a greater space between electrons and neutrons. Matter seems leaner.  The sky is energized. The cattle are calmer. People seem gentler, more inward.  The colours are brighter.  I feel less alone and more at one with nature and God.
In Celtic Christianity nature is acknowledged for so than traditional Roman or Orthodox Catholicism.  It’s the origin of Creation Theology, the idea that God first made all of creation and then man.  God is apparent in this design in the laws of science. The spiritual laws are akin to gravity in their reality.  I loved that the saints of Ireland described us as being on a journey on earth. We’re spiritual beings having a material sojourn rather than material beings in a spiritual reality.  It’s in places like Clonmacnoise one can contemplate and feel akin to the spirit that underlies religion.