Along with the cleansing rains come loud claps of thunder and bright bolts of lightening. Mikio barks at the thunder then retreats to his security blanket that allows him to hide his head under the bed. The cats are not bothered at all as they sit atop chairs in front of windows gazing out. It is lush and green outside and smells ever so organically earthy. I'm sitting here wondering when the hell this costa (rib) inflammation will heal. This is my first experience with costochondritis and while it's quite common and not serious, it does hurt and restricts my activity. I have no problem going through an hour or two of a relatively vigorous asana practice, but a few hours later and for perhaps the following 24 hours or so the pain in my chest is pretty intense and radiates outward. It is difficult to sleep, a problem I've not experienced in many years. At times it can be hard to breathe. From everything I've read, this condition is quite often classified as "cause unknown." Rest, NSAIDS, and that's about it. Appropriate stretching whatever that is, I'm not sure. Ice, heat, arnica. Wait. Prognosis: very good. So I just finished reading the story of Sarita Kenedy East whom I've heard of for many years, and her close association with the Trappist monk Brother Leo. Absolutely fascinating reading about South Texas politics, corruption, abuse of power, manipulation, greed, history, lawyers and more lawyers and one of the largest ranches in South Texas that sits atop an ocean of oil and gas. I have actually met some of the characters in the book in real life, which adds to the interest. "If You Love Me You Will Do My Will" written by Stephen G. Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth. I found the book so engrossing that I started on Broleo - The Wayward Monk by Marshall Boykin with an introduction by Frances Tarlton Farenthold. This is the biography of the the Trappist Monk Brother Leo who played a significant role in Sarita Kenedy East's life, the formation of her foundation and the many years of litigation that followed her death. When I was growing up, especially in the summer months, I would spend a lot of time at the local library which was built by the Dougherty Family. For me, it was a place of refuge, of solitude, of withdrawal inward away from the hot Texas summer heat and boredom. Years later, Stephen Dougherty mentioned Brother Leo to me on several occasions as well as his recommended visits to a Trappist Monastery in Argentina and/or Chile. I didn't realize the extent of Stephen or his dad's relationship to Brother Leo until I began reading the book. Stephen is an extraordinary person, kind, generous, humble and yet eccentric, and he gave me a fair amount of his time during my conversion to Catholicism after my many stays at the Benedictine Monastery of Christ in the Desert near Abiquiu, New Mexico. He is now a Father of the Church (Priest).
I am sitting under a stand of trees next to a bird bath. There seem to be bees everywhere, but we cannot figure out where they are coming from. We continue to investigate. The tree is old and the bees have colonized inside the tree. As I continue looking I see an opening in the tree and inside the tree is an elaborately carved statue. It is hard to tell if the statue within the tree is a natural formation in the tree or if it was carved from the tree itself or if it was placed inside the tree. Is this the god the bees are worshiping? There is a strong element of nature in all this, an element of mystery. I am reminded that I am reading all about monastic life which certainly has parallels to the bees in the trees with the statue symbolism. Hard work, coming together communally, building a life based on rules and rituals, a place of sanctuary and worship, a place to perhaps find oneself, a path or journey towards one's own authenticity. There is a parallel between the contemplative life (colony) within the monastery (tree), the worship of the Trinity (statuary) and the life that goes on outside the place of sanctuary and solitude among the "lay" people. The Desert Fathers that follow the rule of St. Benedict are not a lot different from the bees in the trees. As one sits underneath trees, is this not a common metaphor for bliss, for transformation, for contemplation? I think so, for example Buddha and the Bodhi Tree. And so, I wonder, why this inflammation of my connective tissue of the ribs to the sternum? It has slowed me down. Behind this inflammation, this fire within, resides the seat of being, the heart. I'm staying as open as I can. Somewhere there is a deep blessing.
I am sitting under a stand of trees next to a bird bath. There seem to be bees everywhere, but we cannot figure out where they are coming from. We continue to investigate. The tree is old and the bees have colonized inside the tree. As I continue looking I see an opening in the tree and inside the tree is an elaborately carved statue. It is hard to tell if the statue within the tree is a natural formation in the tree or if it was carved from the tree itself or if it was placed inside the tree. Is this the god the bees are worshiping? There is a strong element of nature in all this, an element of mystery. I am reminded that I am reading all about monastic life which certainly has parallels to the bees in the trees with the statue symbolism. Hard work, coming together communally, building a life based on rules and rituals, a place of sanctuary and worship, a place to perhaps find oneself, a path or journey towards one's own authenticity. There is a parallel between the contemplative life (colony) within the monastery (tree), the worship of the Trinity (statuary) and the life that goes on outside the place of sanctuary and solitude among the "lay" people. The Desert Fathers that follow the rule of St. Benedict are not a lot different from the bees in the trees. As one sits underneath trees, is this not a common metaphor for bliss, for transformation, for contemplation? I think so, for example Buddha and the Bodhi Tree. And so, I wonder, why this inflammation of my connective tissue of the ribs to the sternum? It has slowed me down. Behind this inflammation, this fire within, resides the seat of being, the heart. I'm staying as open as I can. Somewhere there is a deep blessing.
