The Art Spirit

A friend gave me a copy of Robert Henri’s 1923 book “The Art Spirit”. I found this quote on page 145. It made me think that art and grace go hand in hand.

“I am always sorry for the Puritan, for he has guided his life against desire and against nature, He found that he thought was comfort, for he believed the spirit’s safety was in negation, but he has never given the world one minute’s joy or produced one symbol of the beautiful order of nature. He sought peace in bondage and his spirit became a prisoner.”

 

The Art Spirit

By Robert Henri, 1923

Basic Books, New York (2007 imprint)

 

God’s Dream

God’s Dream

By Charles Peguy

The Lord God said: I myself will dream a dream within you,

Good dreaming comes from me, you know.

My dreams seem impossible,

not too practical nor for the cautious man or woman;

a little risky sometimes,

a trifle brash perhaps.

Some of my friends prefer to rest more comfortably

in sounder sleep with visionless eyes.

But from those who share my dreams

I ask a little patience,

a little humor,

some small courage,

and a listening heart – I will do the rest.

Then they will risk and wonder at their daring;

run, and marvel at their speed;

build, and stand in awe

at the beauty of their building.

You will meet me often

as you work in your companions who share the risk,

in your friends who believe in you

enough to lend their own dreams,

their own hands,

their own hearts,

to your building.

In the people who will stand in your doorway,

stay awhile

And walk away knowing that they too can find a dream.

There will be sin-filled days

And sometimes a little rain –

a little variety both come from me.

So come now, be content.

It is my dream you dream,

my house you build,

my caring you witness;

my love you share

And this is the heart of the matter.

 

Lucky me! Adventures on my journey home from Thailand

I arrived back home from SIGNIS (www.signis.net) in Thailand last Saturday and jetlag is a bit of a challenge. However, I wrote about a wonderful encounter on my trip home on my NCReporter blog: Lucky Me!

All my photos are on Facebook (Rose Pacatte) but here are a couple of my favorites. Blessings!

The temple cat in deep meditation. We visited the most significant temple in high on a mountain above Chiang Mai and it was lovely. There were so many people visiting the temple but the cat never budged. Ah!

Jamie’s story: growing in grace

Here is a photo of actor Mark Derwin, my niece Jamie, and actress Robin Riker at the Catholics in Media Awards earlier this year. Jamie has just been accepted into Georgetown University’s nursing program. I asked her if I could post the essay that she sent them as part of the admissions process. I found it very moving and I hope you will, too.

___________

In July of 2006 I launched my own business, a women’s clothing boutique, in my hometown in California. I held ownership of the business for three years, and as I look back on the journey, I realize that I faced many challenges and obstacles that have provided me with many beneficial lessons about life; important lessons I never could have anticipated or predicted. What I remember most about the journey are the people I met, what I learned about them and what they taught me about myself. In my role as owner, I met countless women, listened to many stories, and engaged with a diverse population of strangers on a daily basis. One customer in particular, a woman whom I met early on, I will never forget.

Tina* discovered my boutique shortly after I opened my store for business.  Fit, stylish, and attractive, she seemed to have everything one could want.  Tina was the last person whom I would suspect to be a shoplifter.  One day Tina strolled into the store, and something struck me as strange. The week before, a distinctive and expensive pair of designer sunglasses had gone missing.  After I became aware of their absence I assumed I had simply misplaced them and was sure that they would turn up.  After a moment, I realized that what was odd was that Tina was wearing them.

I was surprised and amazed.  Tina had apparently forgotten that she was wearing them as she walked in, friendly and smiling.  She must have noticed the shock on my face and realized what she had done, as her smile quickly faded and she nervously tried to put the sunglasses out of sight. Meanwhile, I knew I had to say something. I quickly realized I had a choice; I could confront Tina, demand the glasses back and then tell her to leave the store. I could even call the police.  Instead, I chose to stay calm and approach the situation in a civil manner.  I was angry, hurt, and blind-sided all at once, but I knew that if I got upset or emotional the situation would not be resolved in a constructive manner. Thankfully, we were alone in the store. After a few moments of silence, I said Tina’s name gently and asked her whether she had taken the sunglasses, and if so, would she kindly return them?  Tina was speechless at first, and then she began to tremble.  She seemed nervous and embarrassed and I was surprised to suddenly feel a rush of compassion for her.  Tina confessed to the theft and apologized, but offered no excuses.  I thanked her for her honesty.  I told Tina she would be welcome in the store in the future, as long as she left her purse at the counter while shopping.  Tina looked very upset but thanked me for being so understanding. She quickly left the store, and I never expected her to return. However, one week later Tina came in to shop and was very friendly and pleasant.  Over the next three years, Tina returned often.  She always left her purse at the counter and we never referred back to the incident again.  .

I truly was surprised when I was able to see the situation with Tina come full circle. During 2007, my store was broken into, and the glass of the front door was completely smashed in. I had the door boarded up for a few days, waiting for final repairs to take place. Tina visited my store during this time and saw the damage. When she came to the register to pay for an item, she handed me a $50 bill and told me to contribute the money towards repairing my door.  I was deeply touched. The money was nice, but the gesture was significant. I never could have anticipated a more meaningful interaction with someone who had previously stolen from me; to turn around and offer me one of the best gifts I have ever received. It was not the gift of money, but it was the gift of generosity and kindness in my own time of need.

What I learned from this particular experience is that kindness and compassion can evoke very positive reactions and outcomes when dealing with people. I also learned that no matter what mistakes people may make, they still deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.  I now understand that the only real control I have when working with others has to do with the choices that I make and the actions I take.

Another very important lesson was learning how to extend compassion and place boundaries with others that have the potential to take advantage of me. I had no control over Tina’s choices, but by being kind and establishing strong boundaries with her, she remained a loyal customer and acquaintance.

I learned that Tina’s actions had nothing to do with me personally, but that her choice to steal must have come from personal issues in her own life.  I am grateful that my ability to act compassionately, something I learned from my parents and family,  has taught me that, when given a second chance, people can and will respond well. They respond often in ways that cannot be imagined. We all make mistakes, and we all deserve a second chance.  People are not throwaway, and how they act in one moment is not necessarily who they are as a person.

I will always carry the memory of Tina with me. Most importantly, I believe I can transfer this learning moment to my life as a nursing student in the second-degree program. This experience is a standard for how I intend to relate to my classmates, professors, and most importantly, the patients I meet and serve while in training.  By remembering this lesson of our common humanity, I am confident that I can transfer this to my future nursing practice and to each patient without distinction.

*name changed

There go I

I had some sad news this morning. It came out of nowhere.

Someone I have known for several years, someone very talented and genuinely good, entered rehab for a gambling addiction. For several moments, I was stunned.

As I try to wrap my head around this information, clichés drop in an out of my consciousness and sorrow. The default reassurance is the refrain in my head: There go I, but for the grace of God.

But no. No! I cannot comfort my soul at the expense of anyone. For in fact, there go I.

I am that person enterting the door of one rehab haven or another, emptying pockets, shedding one life for another, feeling guilt, desperation, unworthiness, and shame. Wanting to be alone just to cry.

I am that person, for I, too, am weak and human and in need of grace. 

There go I.

There go I but for the grace of God may be true, but this phrase does not free me to be a friend, a neighbor. 

This saying can let me walk away.

But am I coming or going?

There go I.

I, too,  am a human being in need of as much forgiveness, grace, and love, as the next.

There go I.

And when Christ seems most distant and hope as remote as the illusive rainbow, like right now, my favorite Gospel passage pushes through my heart’s memory, “Were not our hearts burning within us as he walked with us along the way?” (Luke 24:32)

There go I.

I pray that my friend will join the disciples, me, and all of us who rise, fall, see, listen, doubt, believe, weep, and rise again, on this dusty, muddy, Emmaus walk.

May my friend feel Christ burning within, for this is grace, and grace can be enough. 

The Emmaus walk is a crowded street. And there is always room for one more, there is enough Christ-fire for all.

 There we go.

A little unexpected miracle

When Sister Jo was asked to serve as the leader of our community in Culver City last December, she accepted and brought with her two birds with her from from Honolulu: Ipo and Pukalani.

I love cockatiels even though I have never owned one ( I have babysat them for friends along with a neurotic parakeet, however). Sun conures are in the same family; they are loud and have lots of attitude. They talk, have a piering caw (if that’s what you call it; hold your ears! They sound like someone is tormenting them but all they want is your undivided attention!), and can do funny things.

A little back story. I have always loved music and singing. However, I have been told that this is not my gift. Our Daughters of St. Paul Choir never even let me try out! Imagine!

Well imagine what happened yesterday.

I went out on the patio to see the birds and hand feed them some pop corn (yes, hand feed; they have their standards.) I started humming a little song to them as I have done so often over the past several months; they calm down and stare at me.

Yesterday, all of a sudden, Pukalani gently expanded  her wings and started rocking gently back and forth, “dancing” to my tune. I was enchanted! It was a little unexpected miracle.

Simple, plain, and true. I am still smiling.

  Sister Jo with Ipo and Pukalani

Come & See (and confront that duck of a religous vocation!)

Has anyone ever asked you if you would like to become a nun? Or better yet, a sister? (All nuns are sisters but not all sisters are nuns).

I remember when Sister Margaret was visiting our community during her discernment time (back in the day). She had already finished school and had been working for three or four years in an office in Manhattan. I asked her: “Why now?” And she replied, “Because no one ever asked me until now.” 

One Saturday two of our sisters had been visiting the families in Sr. Margaret’s parish with the books that we print. Mrs. M. invited the sisters in and introduced Margaret to them. In the course of the conversation, one of the sisters asked Margaret, “So, did you ever think of becoming a sister?” To which she replied, “Yes.” And the rest is history.

As Julia Child told novice French cooks back in her television days (and is recounted so well in the film Julie & Julia) that the first thing one had to do to cook this particular kind of poultry was to first of all, “Confront the duck!”

Have you ever thought God might be calling you to religious life as a sister (or a nun)? Is the question of your vocation the duck in your the cookbook of your life? Are you thinking about just what it might be that God created you for? If following Christ in vowed discipleship, in a community committed to being and communicating Christ in the world today, is of interest to you, we invite you to a discernment weekend. It could be the graced encounter you have been waiting for.

On behalf of our communityI am pleased to pass on this invitation from Sister Tracy :

Come and See!

Discernment Retreat with the Daughters of St. Paul

FRIDAY, OCT. 30 – SUNDAY, NOV. 1, 2009

Daughters of St. Paul Convent

3908 Sepulveda Blvd.

Culver City, CA 90230

The Daughters of St. Paul welcome single young women ages 18-30 for a weekend retreat at our convent to explore the life and charism of the Daughters of St. Paul.

The weekend will consist of prayer with the sisters, conferences and other activities to help you understand the life and mission of the Daughters of St. Paul. 

While on retreat, vocation direction is available for those who wish to speak further about discernment and the call to religious life.

SPACE IS LIMITED!

For more information or to make a reservation, contact 
Sr. Tracey Matthia Dugas, fsp


matthia11@aol.com


310.390.4699

Contact us if you are interested in an informal weekend Vocation Retreat experience for exposure to our life and prayer.

www.daughtersofstpaul.com

The real “September Issue” is grace

Photo by filetransit.com

First of all, let me tell you about this photo. I asked Sr. Tracey (one of the sisters in my community) what image came to mind when she heard the word “grace”. She said the ocean, big, blue, all-embracing. I asked because I wanted to lead into this reflection with this image in mind….

Last Friday I went to see “The September Issue”, the story of the September 2007 issue of Vogue magazine, the biggest ever. The film also focused on Anna Wintour, the editor – some say that the Meryl Streep character in “The Devil Wears Prada” was based on her.

Although the film was about fashion, it turned out to be a grace-filled experience.

I wrote it for this blog and then thought to share it via my blog on the  National Catholic Reportersite. I invite you to click through to savor the moment.

Grace is losing your keys (and wallet)

What are the ingredients for a stressful day? What portends it? It started off very well. A quiet, prayerful morning. Beautiful weather. Driving to the bookstore (Barnes&Noble) and movie theater (Landmark) complex a couple of miles away. Buying tickets for two movies to see and then review for St. Anthony Messenger Magazine or National Catholic Reporter or other outlets. Next, a non-fat latte in the Barnes & Noble cafe’. Browsed for a few moments before the first film started. And on the way out, somehow, I dropped my keys. I mean, I had a bag. My wallet and keys weigh more than a pound. I have a long chain dangling off it and a St. Paul medal (thanks a lot, St. Paul.) What was I thinking? I have no idea.

I take my lunch with me (they don’t sell diet food at the theater) so I went from one theater to the other to see the films,  stopped in the ladies’, and then to the car. As I approached the car I started digging in my bag (portable pit, true). No keys. The water bottle weighed down the bag so I hadn’t missed the weight of keys. I frantically checked through the car windows; had I locked the keys in the car (I have done this twice in the last year or so)? No, I had them when I bought the tickets. I started getting more frantic; but knew I had to keep my cool.

I began praying to my guardian angel as I mentally went through the process of cancelling cards and getting a new driver’s license. Then I began bargaining with God, “Come on, God. You have saved me from this so many times. Don’t let this be the time when I really lose it all.” At the theater concierge desk the manager told me no one had turned in any keys with a wallet attached. He asked one of the employees to go with me to search the theaters where I had been sitting. He was so kind. I checked the trash bins (yuck, but it had to be done). Nothing.

Next I made the rounds in Barnes & Noble, up, down, nothing. Then the theater concierge suggested checking with the mall security across the street. Although I protested that I hadn’t gone there (I can’t stand that mall actually; it is not set out well and doesn’t have anything a nun needs. Hmm. Oh, except a See’s chocolate shop but I must stay away from those.) But I trekked over there and left my name and number.

I returned to the concierge at the theater for another try; this time a young woman accompanied me. She told me, “You know, I always think that something happens for a reason. Who knows? Maybe if you had not been delayed here, something might have happened. God must have wanted you to wait here.”  I looked at her with amazement; she was teaching me like it was the most normal thing in the world to speak this way. I thought to myself, “Who are you? My guardian angel?”

Back to Barnes & Noble, resigned to the consequences of my own distraction and habitual misplacing of keys, and feeling more calm. I called one of the Sisters with a spare car key and asked if she would come and meet me. I sat on a bench, leafing through a magazine, waiting for her call when she reached the parking garage. I was decompressing, breathing, and wondering, “What is God trying to tell me? I think God is trying to get my attention; God is telling me to pay attention, to take care, to be intentional, thoughtful.”

Then it came to me: “You didn’t leave your name and number with the service desk at Barnes & Noble.” So I took the escalator downstairs and waited for someone to serve me. I had been there earlier but one young man went through a box and said the keys were not there. This time it was a different young man. His eyes brightened! He said, “Oh, yes. I have to check the safe.” They were not there, but meanwhile another sales assistant came, reached under the counter, and voila’! My keys and wallet!” “Someone turned them in” the young man said. “You know, people do that. This week someone found a $100 bill on the floor and turned it in, too.”

It was hard not to cry with relief. I blessed them effusively – they were so kind. Then I went upstairs and thanked the theater manager for all their help.

Now I would have to face my community; they know how I am with those keys. Yet even they were kind and merely smiled rather than the usual teasing. I thanked Sr Hosea for bringing the spare key even though she arrived at the garage just as my keys were returned to me.

My heart was slowly returning to normal.

So, what did I learn from this seemingly futile exercise?

1. People are good; I believe in that people want to do the right thing.

2. God wants me to pay attention more; to slow down.

3. Like the young woman said, it was providence; for some reason I was meant to spend an extra two hours running around the complex, delaying my getting back on the road.

4. It was an experience in grace shown through the kindness of many people, all unknown to me and perhaps to one another.

Yesterday’s Gospel reading was from Mark (7:31-37). It was the story of a miracle: Jesus opened the ears of a man who could not hear or speak. Yesterday was a miracle for me, a small one in relation to all the miracles people need every day.

Thank you, God, for miracles and the goodness of people. Grant people the miracles they need, even before they ask or know they need them.

(And the last thing? I did my exercise! To the point of perspiring – profusely. No exercise machine tonight! Ah, such a small silver lining but I was grateful for this, too.)

Breathing space

On Tuesday I had to wait at the doctor’s office for an hour before he could see me. Knowing this might be the case, I decided to bring some reading from home rather than browsing the celebrity magazines, which is ok (it helps one collect trivia for game shows). But I had started reading Pope Benedict’s latest document, the encyclical “Charity in Truth” or if you prefer the Latin: Caritas in Veritatae  and I got hooked.

The Pope lays out the Church’s social teaching in this document. At first this may sound intimidating but the language, the English, is remarkable: in places it is almost poetic.

I have been pondering this quote for two days and I thought I would share it with you:

“Without the perspective of eternal life, human progress in this world is denied breathing space.”

Breathing space. Without the thought of heaven as the end game, human progress will have nowhere to expand, to develop, grow.

This made me think of the Amazon forests, the lungs of the world, hundreds of square miles of the earth’s lungs being destroyed ever week for profit, not progress. Breathing space.

The overcrowded slums of the world. Breathing space.

We need the thought of heaven to motivate us to do the right thing.

Breathing space.

Just breathe.

Breathing space is grace. When we take the time to just breathe, we open ourselves to inspiration. To do the right thing.