It is often only when I am traveling and “off the clock” that I can remove myself from the to-do list grind and see others consistently.
Is it ethical for us to enjoy listening to music from artists who have displayed harmful and oppressive behavior? Should we separate the artist from the art?
Rumi’s “The Guest House” is an invitation to be present to whatever season of life you are in, and to entertain the moment to moment experience of it. As someone who is still learning to acknowledge, accept, and appreciate all emotions, I find Rumi’s words both comforting and challenging.
How do we know if we’ve had a true mystical experience? We look at 7 characteristics of mystical experience and try to put language to what is a very complex phenomenon.
Music has always been influential and, in turn, political. If our news source can massively influence the way we perceive events, people, and issues, wouldn’t something as prominent as music make just as much of an impact in the digital age?
I’m the sort of nerd who likes to articulate my principles. I love being able to recite these words in times of prayer and lean on them in times of stress. My articulations of my principles are largely borrowed from Thich Nhat Hanh’s mindfulness trainings, but I have gone ahead and made some modifications of my own.
I’ve recently started to re-examine what Arrupe actually meant by love in his “Fall in Love” prayer. What if we treated our friendships with the same kind of intentional love as other relationships?
I’ve come to realize this past year that the striking contrast between being a JV and a capitalist actor manifests in the relation of myself to the rest of the world — a cataclysmic shift from freely and generously giving my time to speculating and assessing the monetary estimate of my productivity.
Although we, as Catholics, make a commitment to the “one, holy, and apostolic church”, I have found a spiritual connection to Buddhism: a relationship that possibly expands and further explains what I value in the Catholic tradition.
By the end of a rough 2016, I knew I wanted to make a gesture that would symbolize the beginning of something new for me. Although I was not and had never been a runner, running the Go St. Louis! half marathon crept into my mind. During that spring, the time, energy, and concentration I expended on running became holy.
After graduating from SCU, I spent time with JVC, L’Arche, and the Maryknoll China Teachers Program. I’ve thought of these experiences as my “formation years,” as something akin to the notoriously long Jesuit formation process, which typically lasts at least ten years.
Many of us feel a lack of self-control around technology and have strong desires to develop healthier relationships with our devices. Luckily, there are dozens of authors, commentators, and individuals who are helping us envision radical new ways of living lives independent of technology, and intentionally with technology.
With Dis-Orientation just completed for the current JVs, I feel obligated to reminisce on where my heart was just twelve short months ago.
“They Say” is a poem Meg O’Neill wrote while working in Ritsona refugee camp in central Greece.
For this post, I decided to curate a list of some “not-so-easy-breezy-beachy” books that I absolutely recommend.