A week of “yes”

As I wake up this morning with the waves crashing on the rocks, I ponder where saying “yes” all week has led me. Emotionally drained, physically fine, and wonderfully, spiritually filled, I smile at the complexity of my current state of being.

It all started on Monday. There was no conscious choice to say “yes” to everything, it just seemed to be where the spirit was calling, so I followed. Bingo happens every Monday night at the church my novitiate is attached to, and though they often need help, I have never felt I had the energy by the time Monday night came around. Spiritually fuelled and surprisingly full of energy from putting the finishing touches on a 15-page paper on Teilhard de Chardin, this particular Monday I felt great – so I went.

I met a community of people who told me all about the parish they love so much, where their kids received their sacraments, where their grandparents were married, and where so many memories lie for them. Having moved every few years, I can’t fathom this, though I can relate to loving the church where my parents were wed, as that’s the church I attended most on PEI. I never expected to serve in the church by peddling lotto tickets, but I can see that for $10 you could have a night of entertainment, the possibility of winning prizes, and being surrounded by friends.

On Tuesday there was a memorial for one of our sisters. I don’t remember her, just as I don’t really remember meeting the last few sisters who passed away and who’s services I attended, but I’m not sure memorials are for this. When asked to go, I said “yes” to be around a community of sisters who were grieving through their own pain and celebrating the joy of her life. I said “yes” to learning more about who she was and how she lived her vocation. I said “yes” to being in a room filled with love.

Wednesday held a “novitiate training” activity (that I was expected to go to and only learned about it when it appeared on my calendar.) So rather than answering a question, this was an internally motivated “yes,” to go with a willing heart, an open mind, and a smile. It was a panel discussion about a new book written by young sisters “In Our Own Words.” A nice read on many aspects of being a sister, including a hopeful and well-written chapter by CND’s own Debbie Warner.

Being regularly told from lots of different sources how so few sisters are joining religious life, I am always surprised to go to a gathering and see so many young sisters, especially ones I didn’t even know existed. In a room of 100 sisters, I knew only 3 people. There were at least 40 sisters there my age (or there about), confronting the notion that I know in my heart is false – that religious life is dying. I met vibrant, joyful, and hope-filled sisters who knew what I did – there is a reason we are being called and we need to meet occasionally to remind each other. As you can tell – it was easy to say an internal “yes” to this.

Thursday morning started with the usual greeting of friends at the local food bank and putting together bags of food for the local community, before running off to mass and an all-day novitiate class. On Thursday afternoon, I learned they needed people to sit in an adoration chapel at the local convention center because there was going to be a gathering of 2100 young’uns. When I say local – I mean walking distance, less than a mile away. It’s amazing what happens right under your nose and you don’t even know about it. I went to the early shift, prayed for an hour, and kept Jesus company until the next companion came along. Later in the evening, a few of us went back to the rally to see the charismatic event in action. Filled with impassioned speeches and witness talks, I was surrounded by an army of priests administering confession for eager teens. A second “yes” to go back, I learned that in the NY area, the future of the church is ts Hispanic youth. It felt nice, like I was back in Texas, the only blonde in the crowd.

Friday involved a four-hour roadtrip (twice as long as it should have been due to traffic), a slight bribe getting to stop at Chick-fila along the way (my favorite place for sweet tea and waffle fries), and a weary arrival at shore. In Quonnie, Rhode Island, we were greeted by the sound of the ocean and a towering 3-story inn. When sisters tell me about this place on the shore, their eyes always brighten, their smiles come easily, and their minds drift to happy memories. Arriving in the fog and cold under the veil of night enhanced the feeling of magic. Like Hogwarts or a false wall in the wardrobe to Narnia, this seems to be the setting for a number of mystical tales. My “yes” today really means helping tomorrow morning to prepare the rooms, so all summer long, guests can enter into their own tales and stories n this mystical setting. Even though this is my first visit, the feeling of “opening the cottage” is familiar. Each year on PEI, our family comes together on a cold, wet day, laughing through the mundane tasks to wash dishes and make the beds, enjoying each other’s company and expecting a summer of adventure. Among the PEI trees, the silence of the forest is as deafening as the waves I now hear on the Rhode Island coast.

During this week of “yes,” I have encountered so many people, my little introvert inside is crying for quiet time. Though not physically tired, I am emotionally drained and mentally wiped. With everything else, this week held meetings, a term paper, reading 3 books and a few additional chapters, and 2.5 intense hours learning from Elizabeth Johnson. And that’s since Monday. Spiritually, I am so gratefully full, in part for the awareness of the many “yes’s” that just as easily could have been “no’s,” for the people I met this week, and for the many places where I saw love weaving its way through the tapestry of life. I leave you with this quote that has accompanied from the noisy bingo halls, through the conference room-turned temporary chapel, to a wood paneled room on the Atlantic coast:



"God is the tip of my pen, my spade, my brush, my needle – of my heart and of my thought" - Teilhard de Chardin, a paleontologist and author.

A time before: Adopting an Endlessly Renewed Openness, Starting with Sustainability

I am part of the Xenial generation, a bridging group that spans only a few years, too old to be a Millennial and too young to be a GenXer.

Technologically, we remember a time before cell phones and before the digital explosion, but we were young enough to whole-heartedly embrace it. We never lived without a remote for the TV. We were the first to embrace Blockbuster online, and then Netflix.  We were the first generation to be quietly occupied during long car trips, plugged into our Game Boys and Walkmans, able to play a video game on the go and zone out from the chaos around us. In grade school, we had penpals, and in college, we were the first to try facebook (or the less popular myspace). We had gmail accounts when you had to be invited to get one. We have always done our taxes using computer programs, never on paper. We lived long enough without technology that we know to appreciate it, and young enough not to be scared by it, perhaps even addicted to it as our phones are never far from our reach.

Culturally, we remember the time before TSA: when you went to the airport to pick someone up, you could wait at the gate, staring out the window, excitedly watching the plane pull up and all the people get off. We are a generation of fire drills, not actual fires, so a fire alarm is rarely cause for alarm. We have different “moments when”. The GenXers talk about where they were during the Challenger Explosion, the Boomers before them talk about the assassination of JFK, MLK, and the moon landing. The Millennials talk about 9/11. For us, the Columbine massacre was the first to change everything.

In class this week, a picture of the earth was displayed, and I smiled at the familiar image of the swirly blue oceans and white clouds set against a striking black background of nothingness. Our teacher (Elizabeth Johnson, CSJ) talked about how this picture, entitled the Blue Marble, changed everything and was named the most influential picture of the 20^th century. For the Boomers and the Greatest Generation before them, this image showed one united world, the first chance for the globe to see itself in the mirror. Teilhard de Chardin (part of the Greatest Generation) had been buried for decades by the time this photo emerged in 1972, but he would see this as the incredible evolution of the universe – true global consciousness – the thinking layer of the earth (the noosphere) seeing its own reflection, and the ability to know that it knows. Wow.

To me – I didn’t understand the significance of this photo. I had never considered that this picture even had a name. It was as familiar to me as my baby photos were, and so, I had never known a time before this photo, that there could even been a shift in consciousness because of a single photo. I knew there was a time before people landed on the moon or sent something to space, but there was never a moment when my fellow Xenials and I didn’t know what the earth looked like. By the time we appeared, the impact of this photo has settled and the wave of ecological reform was well underway. We grew up with Sesame Street telling us to conserve water when we brushed our teeth, and we were reminded in school to turn off our lights for an hour each year on Earth Day. As adults, many of us embraced hybrids about a third of us go meatless to reduce the impact on the earth. For us, there was never a time that our economy and culture wasn’t global…after all, I had a pen pal on another continent. We never knew a time when we weren't worried about saving the world.

But really – who cares? Why does this photo and my personal awakening matter enough to warrant a blog? Well, I was reminded of my post-modern existence. That the lens with which I view the world is so very different from everyone else’s, and by extension how much that flavors how each of us thinks and acts. In the Congregation of Notre Dame, one of our current priorities is towards ecological sustainability to: ‘honor and respect our “common home”, take concrete action, resist the forces of destruction and promote life in all its forms’. Practically, what does that look like? From what I have seen, we meet to find ways to advocate for more ecologically-centered practices and have discussions within our houses to reduce consumption (of water, energy, paper, ink, gas…the list goes on). For example, the sisters in our house met to talk about whether it takes more energy to turn on a light rather than leave it on (with today’s bulbs, turn it off every time!), and whether to use the dishwasher or wash dishes by hand to save water (a full dishwasher conserves resources more than washing dishes by hand).

What surprises me is that the sisters engage in conversations that could seem confrontational and evoke defensiveness about how we do things and why, but instead they are open to constantly changing practices to do what is better for the earth. Wow. That’s not what the literature says about Boomers…(that they are stuck in their ways and unwilling to change). Maybe I need to realign my assumptions and worry less about the label of my generation and what we do (after all, that’s not very post-modern of me and instead labels me as a modernist, ack!).

Learning how to learn about sustainability is not something I expected to learn in the novitiate. Ever in the process of transformation, I recognize that to be a sister means to have an endlessly renewed openness to the cries of the world. Today, that is ecological sustainability. Tomorrow… we’ll have to wait and see (and hopefully be open to whatever challenge comes).

A tale of Adventure

I almost died this week. Well, not really, but I could have. On my camino day this week, the day when I venture out into the world to paradoxically retreat inward to connect more with god, I found myself on an exhilarating adventure where I easily could have broken a bone and yes, died (though that was not the intent). I thought I was going for a hike on one of the many gorgeous, well maintained trails in New England. This time venturing to Stone Church in Dover Plains NY, a short trail that winds alongside a babbling brook and meets a cave who's opening looks like a church, with a waterfall and large stone pulpit inside. Sounds lovely, yes? All my research said so (as evidenced by this site). It turns out the church doesn't have many visitors in winter, and fewer visitor still when winter is becoming spring.


After walking down a set of icy stone stairs, the trail welcomed me with a gorgeous view of the mountains with a runway of grass in between, lined with manicured trees. I am sure in fall this view is even more breathtaking than the dead grass and bare trees offered, but fall could not offer the lake of ice that was recently melted into water, reflecting the sky, trees and plains all around. Realizing I would get wet and too excited for adventure to be put off so early, I rationalized, "my shoes are waterproof and that doesn't look deep. It's cold anyway - 0 deg C and 35 deg F, and it would be a shame to turn around at the first trial, so let's go!"

The crystal clear ice water was colder and deeper than I expected as my shoes filled up with water and I skated on the ice at the bottom while wading through the water (with a giant grin on my face). By the time I even considered turning around I was already half way, so preceded on with two blocks of ice for feet (the grin now more like a grimace).

The second part of the trail was a sheet of ice, staccatoed with dirt clumps from below, so I used my awesome Ahnu boots to ice skate. The slight inclines required maneuvering on the snow on the edges for traction, but on I went accompanied by the babbling brook. Finally, I came to the trailhead (the beginning as most would see it), went over the stream on a new footbridge, and looked in the direction of the stone church.

Though not yet in view, what was visible was magnificent. The path was about 2-3 feet wide, pure ice, with a natural wall of snow covered rocks and sharp hills on the left, and a small cliff into a more forceful brook on the right, with the water rushing around rocks big and small. The sound of the brook was louder, with the waterfall close by. With very little to grab onto, I sauntered ahead, shuffling one foot at a time, grabbing a branch when available, and leaning left so as not to fall into the river.


It was such fun! Trying to go up what I couldn't even see was a hill, failing, trying a different way. Marveling at the melting ice and frozen waterfalls along the way, somehow poised next to the rushing water. As some point I realized other people would probably find this dangerous and wouldn't have come this far, especially wearing only a hoodie and yoga pants, with a thin rain jacket in case it rained. Definitely under-dressed for the cold temperature, I reflected how unprepared I was for this journey, similar to how unprepared I have felt for the journey I've been on the last 6 months at the novitiate, yet that has been bumpy and I have survived, so I could certainly handle this short trail of a journey.

Some of the branches I grabbed were covered in thorns or not attached to anything, and I jerked back before remembering the rapid water rushing behind me and twisted back again towards the hill. Many years of ballet, yoga, and general clumsiness trained me to catch myself over and over. I mused how these deceptive branches looked like help but weren't what I was looking for, like the many people who we reach out to in times of need that whether they want to or not, cannot help us. That strength and guidance needs to come from within, emanating from a source of truth, experience, and training for this moment.



 Closer to the cave, I had to stretch between rocks submerged in the water to enter the cave, tried a few different footings, and with the grace of a T-Rex playing hopscotch, eventually made it inside the cave to a rock a few inches higher than the surrounding water. I perched on the rock to begin to absorb a scene so mysterious, it must have been contrived by C S Lewis and Salvador Dali. I was consumed by the mist rising from the water, the powerful waterfall at the back juxtaposed with the frozen waterfall right next to it, a crack of blue sky in the ceiling, and the deafening noise as the water crashed by, escaping from the cave and headed down the valley. I was in another world - Jim Henson's Fraggle Rock creatures were sure to spring out of a hole in the side.

I stayed and meditated, becoming so relaxed at one point that my foot slipped into the water and I caught myself from going downstream just in time. Adjusting a little, and pleased at the level of physical relaxation I was able to attain, I was compelled to continue to contemplate the magnificence of a sight that existed as a gift for me from the creator of the cosmos. This site, evolving for millenia, hallowing out from what started as a trickle in a rock to become a waterfall in a cave, waiting for the perfect wintery conditions to combine flowing water, ice, and mist, to invite me into a mystical experience of the all encompassing love god shows through nature. I know this was a gift for me, in the words of Rainer Maria Rilke, "If this is arrogant, God, forgive me, but this is what I need to say." No one else would have been fool hearty enough to go past all of those elements, to not feel a twinge of fear and rather excitement and anticipation of what was waiting ahead, as if being propelled by an all-knowing spirit. This moment, this place, this experience was waiting for me from the dawn of time in order to be fulfilled. Of this I am sure.

While in this transcendent state, I pondered how Lent gives us a chance to pause for a moment and reflect on our spiritual journey to reset our course. Are we doing enough for others? How regularly and intentionally are we communicating with our god? Do we show enough compassion and love for ourselves, the amount god showers on us? These three elements of almsgiving, prayer, and fasting are ways we can reset our course towards spiritual wholeness this season. We get 40 days to try and try again, being kind to ourselves when we fail and feeling renewed to try again. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert to get ready for his public mission, to grapple with god and who he was, to shed all of the things that weren't really him or necessary for his journey. Perhaps this lent, that's what we can do too. Shed the things that aren't us and are hindering us from our becoming our potential. With each act of kindness, each turning away from temptation, and each prayer to the creator for the miraculous life we all have, we can shape this world into the way the world should be, a new heaven, a new earth.

After a prayer of thanksgiving for such a fantastic experience (and realizing if I stayed too long, I might fall in completely), I left. The way back was downhill, faster, and messier. I sprawled around like a giraffe learning to walk, slid down a hill of ice at one point, unintentionally twirled on the ice numerous times, and splashed through the icy water. If something had happened, such as tripping on a rock, something that could have happened anywhere, no one would have known and I probably could have died, but that sense of knowing in that deep place where you know things, from the first steps in the water, I knew that experience was brewing from my first 'yes' to god. I knew that trip was destined from the dawn of time, from the first explosions of hydrogen. With my angels by my side and a smile big enough to release the joy spilling out, I was being safely escorted along my path in, out, and beyond.

Oh, and I must thank Rainer Maria Rilke, who was kind enough to write a poem about my experience in his Book of Hours back in 1905. He really captured the awe and hope I felt in the cave, and the journey along the way.

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me

so that what no one has dared to wish for 
may for once spring clear
without my contriving.
If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing you as no one ever has,
streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.
- Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours

Fight, Flight or Freeze

As I was headed into Home Depot, on an errand to fix a leaky toilet, (as most novices are tasked to do), I realized I forgot to lock the car door. Without pausing to fix this error, I reached into my pocket, felt for the keys, pushed the lock button, heard the satisfying 'beep beep', and removed my hand from my pocket, relieved having rectifying the situation. The bored security guard watching on the security cam (or perhaps a drone overhead) would only have seen a girl slide her hand in her pocket then take it out. I mused at how this correction didn't slow me down and how the ability to correct my faux paux was a commonplace occurrence that bordered on mundane.  Instead of having to go back to the car and lock the door, I was able to move on with my day so easily.

Now you're wondering if I am so bored that the only thing to blog about is to boast my ability to lock my car door. Not the point, I assure you. Being in the novitiate, I find I am becoming so introspective and newly aware of everything around me, from my emotions to my inner spiritual shifts, that everything turns into a reflection. I wonder if I am becoming overly reflective, as the simple act of locking my car door mentally catapulted me into a reflection on the contemplative nature of society and our delayed ability to act. (Then I wondered how much I wonder about and started to worry that I might be worrying about this).

The punchline - whereas our society used to respond to threats with 'fight or flight', so many of us now just freeze. They call this phenomenon tonic immobility (wiki link). Some animals respond to tense situations by intensely not moving, like a deer in headlights or how they tell you to play dead with black bears. (Or is it brown bears you play dead with and black bears you run??).

By Victor Bezrukov - Port-42, CC BY 2.0, Link

Like my millennial compatriots, I find I stare in fear when the phone rings, angry at the intrusive invader disturbing the peace of my day, wishing it were a text that I could attend to in my own time, analyze the message and contemplatively craft the perfect response. On a phone call - what if I say something wrong? I have to respond immediately!! What if I don't know what to say? It's hard to convey tonic immobility over the phone but I am sure it will happen.

Or, when I am in a weird situation, when someone has a big outburst around me or I find myself in some sort of confrontation, I stand there dumbfounded, unable to move, mumbling something incoherent and stew about it later. Afterwards, I find the conversation replays in my head, over and over, my brain transfixed on crafting the perfect response to have ready for next time. I continue to over-analyze the situation until I realize that the outburst might have triggered something deeper than the event itself. There might be some underlying root cause from the past or a real reason I am still upset. The funny part is that this awareness always surprises me, like I haven't had same profound thought many times before!
 
Deepening into new levels of over-analysis, I think how it doesn't surprise me that we are a paralyzed society. We have lost our caveman and cavewoman instinct to react, in part from expectations that we have to say the right thing and in part because having to be nice to each other eliminates all confrontation from our society. Fr Mike Schmitz has focused a number of his recent homilies on how toxic the Minnesotan (and I would say American and Canadian) need to be nice is. Don't make trouble. Don't disturb the peace. Oh please don't raise your voice! Now that wasn't very nice, was it?

I am coming to learn that confrontation might be good. While I have heard this in many leadership classes including workshops on 'healthy confrontation' (both professionally as an engineer and personally as a novice), I am only now starting to see the wisdom in it. In moving to New York and encountering cultures that yell at each other as a way of communicating, coming from my near-puritanical background as a sweet southern belle, it has been jarring. I regularly hear arguments on the train resulting from someone being shushed for talking too loudly or in line in a store where people are screaming at each other for all sorts of reasons (cutting, getting too close, talking on their phone, not moving ahead fast enough, etc). I have even been asked my opinion about their argument. To which I reply - "I ... uhhh... ummm.. were you arguing? I didn't notice" What is amazing is that at the end, both parties seem happier to have said their piece and life returns to normal. They often conclude with a form of apology, reconciling what happened, (sadly, transferring all of their tension to me). Perhaps they are not afraid of being wrong or showing their passion. If we regularly get into confrontations and address the obvious issues in front of us, we might be more willing to see and admit when we are wrong.

The meandering, seemingly disparate thoughts listed here reinforce for me the importance of contemplation. Perhaps taking the time to meditate each day not only allows you to be more mindful in the moment of the confrontation, but to also process the situation afterwards to discover the true root cause. Contemplation, then, creates an alternative to 'fight, flight or freeze', leaving the argumentative New Yorkers and my dumbfounded immobility behind. Perhaps someone with a contemplative approach can respond thoughtfully, instead of reactively or no reaction at all!

As a novice in a religious congregation, I am signing myself up to spend an hour in personal prayer each day to strengthen my relationship with the divine. As an engineer, I look for evidence and results to evaluate the effectivity of a process. It is assuring, then, to see that this time of contemplative prayer might already be positively influencing my ruminations and perhaps even my actions. My name is Libby, and I am a recovering tonic immobilizer.

¿Qué dirías tú que hacemos aquí?

Translated from English by Congregation of Notre Dame Translators 
(Click here to read this article in English or in French)

Cuando comencé este blog, prometí compartir cómo es la vida de una novicia.  Ahora que he estado en el noviciado durante algunos meses, me he acomodado en un patrón cómodo que puede ser descrito mejor como ‘un día en la vida’. Cabe señalar que cada orden religiosa tiene su propia manera de formar a las novicias y aun dentro de la CND (mi orden – Congregación de Notre Dame), cada experiencia del noviciado fue diferente para cada hermana que ha compartido su historia conmigo, así que esta es solo mi experiencia, hasta ahora.

 

Para aclarar el lenguaje de monjas: ‘formación’ – esta es otra palabra para estudio, preparación, entrenamiento, pero es usada específicamente en el contexto de la vida religiosa y aunque se aplica especialmente a este tiempo como novicia (campo de entrenamiento para monjas), la formación es continua a través de los votos temporales y en la vida profesa. En mi vida anterior, yo me referiría a esto como  ‘aprendizaje permanente’ o ‘desarrollo profesional’, con temas más amplios a desarrollar personal y espiritualmente.

Yo comienzo el día con una hora de oración personal, para orientarme a mí misma hacia lo divino y fijar un curso deseado de paz y presencia. Esto generalmente incluye la escritura diaria, el oficio divino de la mañana y la meditación/ contemplación. Mi mantra favorito hasta ahora es la oración de Jesús – Señor Jesucristo ten piedad de mí. Luego tengo que acordarme de colocarme la cruz. La mayoría de los días ya estoy fuera de mi habitación antes de acordarme.

Nuestro altar para el Día de los Muertos

El desayuno y el almuerzo se toman cuando conviene y nos reunimos juntas como casa de 5 para compartir la cena y después para la oración comunitaria. Cada una cocina una vez por semana y ha sido divertido estirar mis músculos culinarios los cuales habían sido grandemente atrofiados durante los últimos 6 años en que viví sola. De igual manera, yo dirijo la oración una noche a la semana. La oración comunitaria casi siempre incluye un canto y el oficio divino de la tarde, aunque la última semana tuvimos un servicio especial para el Día de los Muertos y colocamos un altar para los seres amados que han muerto. La persona que dirige la oración programa la agenda y cada noche es diferente pero especial. Los domingos, participamos compartiendo la fe y en conocernos mejor a un nivel más profundo. Lo que encuentro más poderoso cuando oramos juntas es que cada noche, hay tiempo para el silencio contemplativo y la energía del silencio de 5 personas es poderosa y cargada de energía. Yo soy una persona nocturna, pero después de esta subida de energía, me siento recargada, quedo despierta durante horas. 

Yo voy a misa todos los días, algo con lo que pensé que tendría que luchar. Sin embargo, he descubierto que la misa diaria es maravillosa – más corta, al grano y ofrece un recordatorio regular de llevar a Cristo al mundo. Además, yo voy a diferentes iglesias cada día para darme la oportunidad de explorar la iglesia, el vecindario y las personas. Generalmente camino durante el día, ya que hay 6 iglesias a unos 45 minutos andando.

Los lunes y los miércoles me encuentro con mi directora de noviciado y aprendo sobre la vida religiosa, la formación CND, información específica del noviciado y oportunidades de crecimiento personal.  Las semanas tienen un tema (lo que me gusta) generalmente incluye leer artículos y libros (lo que me gusta más) y tengo «tarea» en forma de reflexión corta de cada uno (yo creo que a mi directora de noviciado le gustaría que yo escribiera menos…pero una vez le dije que me toma dos párrafos para estornudar, de manera que está atrapada con escritos largos).

Con la Hna. Kathleen Deignan

Los martes y miércoles por la tarde voy a clases. Una es un curso de postgrado en la Universidad Fordham sobre el Antiguo Testamento. Esto es maravilloso y ha cambiado la manera que escucho las lecturas en la misa, le da contexto, cultura e historia a los relatos. El otro es un curso de pregrado en el Iona College sobre la Cosmología del Universo y la manera en que las estrellas y la espiritualidad están entrelazadas (obviamente maravilloso). Esta clase la da una de las hermanas – Kathleen Deignan, y ha sido inspirador escuchar su misticismo y sabiduría. El próximo semestre será el Nuevo Testamento y  Teilhard (*¡¡Espero!!).

Amigas en Formación

Los jueves me encuentro con un grupo de novicias y sus formadoras (directoras de novicias, formadoras, etc.) y aprendemos todas juntas. Viajamos a diferentes casas para conocer el espacio personal de las demás, viajamos tan lejos como Connecticut, Pensilvania y Nueva Jersey. Los temas han incluido: enseñanza social católica, oración, reflexión teológica y desarrollo psicosocial. Una variedad por decir algo. Este grupo de novicias es parte de un grupo más grande que se reúne durante 6 semanas al año, para todas las personas en formación – candidatas (como yo el año pasado), novicias, recién profesas (en el ministerio con trabajo y la promesa de quedarse otro año o dos hasta que están listas para los votos finales) y nuestras formadoras. El año pasado, tuve la oportunidad de viajar siete veces de PEI a NY para reunirme con este grupo, de manera que ya tenía un círculo de amigas cuando llegue.

Los viernes son ‘Día de Camino’ o ‘Día de Desierto’, donde trato de integrar lo que aprendí durante la semana de manera intencional, en silencio, lo más posible. Este es casi como un día de retiro a la semana y un recordatorio de no estar muy ocupada. Puedo leer, hacer mi blog, caminar durante 8 horas o realmente cualquier cosa que el espíritu me mueve hacer, pero con el fin de hacerlo de manera intencional.

Mis amigas en Broadway

Como comunidad – tenemos una noche de juegos y jugamos cartas (a solicitud mía), algunas noches vemos juntas la televisión (actualmente obsesionada con Good Place y Project Runway), otras me escabullo en medio de la noche a la iglesia oscura para rezar (ssshhhhh ¡no se lo digan a nadie!), cocinamos juntas, salimos a caminar e incluso fuimos a una obra de Broadway (¡¡teníamos 5 boletos!!). Esta fue una experiencia bastante especial.

UPEI impresionados en NY

Logro tener 7 horas completas de sueño – más de las que tenía antes. Contribuyo con la limpieza aunque la mayor parte de mis esfuerzos son en el mantenimiento de la casa – arreglar el lavatrastos, instalar cosas, armar libreros, etc. Tengo la oportunidad de aprender unos cuantos instrumentos, disfruto de la soledad de mi habitación cuando mi ser introvertido está abrumado de «compañerismo». Hay muchas cosas que estoy dejando fuera – como los viajes a la ciudad para visitar un museo, visitas de los amigas que llegan a la ciudad, reuniones comunitarias provinciales, reuniones con las Personas Asociadas CND, charlas sobre la pobreza o el activismo ecológico y celebraciones por la vida de las hermanas en sus funerales (unos cuantos hasta la fecha).

Yo creo que estos han sido los acontecimientos más importantes. Un horario muy ocupado, por supuesto, y yo me pregunto cómo han pasado los días, ¡cómo es posible que ya hayan pasado 11 semanas! Me siento agradecida por las personas con quien vivo, atesoro las lecciones que he aprendido y siento temor cuando haya terminado los dos años. 

What Would You Say You Do Here?

(Click here to read this article in Spanish or in French)

When I started this blog, I promised to share what life as a novice
was like. Now that I have been at the novitiate for a few months, I have settled into a comfortable pattern and can better describe ‘a day in the life’. It should be noted that each religious order has their own way of forming novices, and even within the CNDs (my order: Congregation of Notre Dame), I have come to realize that each experience of the novitiate was different for each sister, so this is my experience, as of now.

Nun lingo clarification: ‘formation’ – this is another word for study, preparation, training, but is specifically used in the religious life context and though it applies especially to this time as a novice (nun boot camp), formation is ongoing through temporary vows and into professed life. In my former life, I would refer to it as ‘lifelong learning’ or ‘professional development’, with much broader topics to develop personally and spiritually.

I start the day with an hour of personal prayer, to orient myself towards the divine and set a desired course of peace and presence. This often includes the daily scripture, morning divine office, and meditation/contemplation. My favorite mantra as of late is the Jesus prayer – Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me. Then I have to remember to put on my cross. Most days I am almost out of the room before I remember.

Our Dia de los Muertos Alter

Breakfast and lunch are eaten whenever it is convenient, and we come together as a house of 5 to share supper and afterwards, communal prayer. We each cook one night a week, and it’s been fun to stretch my culinary muscle when it had atrophied so greatly over my last 6 years living alone. Similarly, I lead prayer about one night a week. Communal prayer almost always includes a song and the evening divine office, though last week we had a special service for Dia De Los Muertos and set an alter for our loved ones who have passed. The person leading prayer sets the agenda and each night is different but special. On Sundays, we engage in faith sharing and come to know each other on a deeper level. What I find most powerful when we pray together is that each night, there is some time for quiet contemplation, and the energy of the silence of 5 people is potent and charged. I am already a night person, but after this surge of energy, I am recharged and up for hours.


I go to mass each day, something I thought I would struggle with. However, I have found the daily mass is wonderful – shorter, to the point, and provides a regular reminder to bring Christ out into the world. Plus, I go to a different church each day giving me the chance to explore: the church, neighborhoods, and people. Often I will walk as there are 6 churches within a 45-minute walk throughout the day.

Mondays and Wednesdays I meet with my novitiate director and I learn about religious life, CND training, novitiate-specific information, and opportunities for personal growth. The weeks are themed (which I love), often involve reading articles and books (which I love more), and I have ‘homework’ in the form of a short reflection for each one (I think my novitiate director would love it if I wrote less…but I once told her it takes me two paragraphs to sneeze, so she’s stuck with long essays).

With Sr Kathleen Deignan

Tuesday and Wednesday evenings I attend class. One is a graduate course at Fordham University in the Old Testament. This is amazing and has shifted the way I hear the readings at mass, providing context, culture, and history to the stories. The other is an undergraduate course at Iona College on the Cosmology of the Universe and how the stars and spirituality are intertwined (obviously amazing). This class is taught by one of the sisters – Kathleen Deignan, and it has been inspirational to hear her mysticism and wisdom. Next semester is New Testament and Teilhard (*I hope!!).

Friends in formation 

On Thursdays I meet with a group of novices and their formators (novitiate director, handler, etc) and we all learn together. We travel to the different houses so we get to see each others’ personal space, traveling as far as Connecticut, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Topics have included: Catholic social teachings, prayer, theological reflection, and psycho-social development. An array to say the least. This group of novices is part of a larger group that meets six weekends a year of people in formation – candidates (like I was last year), novices, newly professed (in ministry with jobs and promise to stay for another year or two until there are ready for final vows), and our formators. Last year, I got to fly from PEI to NY to meet with this group seven different times, so I already had a circle of friends when I arrived.


 Fridays are a ‘Camino Day’ or ‘Desert Day’, where I try to integrate the week’s learning very intentionally, in silence as much as possible. This is almost a retreat day each week and reminder to not be too busy. I get to read, blog, go on 8 hour walks, or really anything that the spirit moves, but with the goal of doing so intentionally.

My roomies at a Broadway show

As a community – we have game night once a week and play cards (at my request), watch TV together some evenings (currently obsessed with the Good Place and Project Runway), sneak over to the dark church in the middle of the night to pray (ssshhhhh don’t tell!), cook together, go on walks, and even a broadway show (we had 5 free tickets!!). It’s a pretty special experience.

UPEI Awesomeness in NY

I get a solid 7 hours of sleep – more than I used to get. I contribute to cleaning though most of my efforts are in the upkeep of the house – fixing sinks, installing things, building shelves, etc. I get time to learn a few instruments, enjoy the solitude of my room when my inner introvert is overwhelmed by the ‘together-ness’. There are many things I am leaving out – such as trips into the city to check out a museum, visits with friends who are in town, provincial community meetings, CND Associate gatherings, lectures on poverty or ecological activism, and celebrating sisters' lives at funerals (a few so far).

I think those are the highlights. A busy schedule for sure, and I wonder where the days have gone, how 11 weeks could possibly have passed already! I am filled with gratitude for the people I live with, treasure the lessons I have already learned, and already dread when the two years will be over.

Qu’est-ce que vous diriez que vous faites ici?

Translated from English by Congregation of Notre Dame Translators

(Click here to read this article in Spanish or in English)

 

Lorsque j’ai commencé ce blog, j’ai promis de décrire comment se passe une vie de novice. Maintenant que j’ai passé quelques mois au noviciat, je me suis installée dans des habitudes confortables et je peux mieux décrire « une journée typique ». Il convient de noter que chaque ordre religieux a sa propre façon de former des novices, et même à l’intérieur de la CND (ma communauté – Congrégation de Notre-Dame), l’expérience du noviciat a été différente pour chacune des sœurs qui ont partagé leur histoire avec moi, je relate donc ici mon expérience jusqu’à maintenant.

 

Clarification du jargon de sœur : « formation » est un synonyme d’étude, de préparation, d’instruction, mais il est utilisé

tout spécialement dans le contexte de vie religieuse, et même s’il s’applique en particulier à cette étape en tant que novice (« camp d’entraînement pour sœurs »), la formation est continue jusque dans la vie de professe, en passant par les vœux temporaires. Dans mon ancienne vie, je l’aurais appelée « formation permanente » ou « développement professionnel », avec des sujets bien plus larges à développer sur les plans personnel et spirituel.

Je commence ma journée par une heure de prière personnelle, afin de m’orienter vers le divin et de définir une trajectoire souhaitée de paix et de présence. Elle inclut souvent la lecture quotidienne des Écritures, l’office divin du matin, et de la méditation/contemplation. Mon mantra préféré depuis quelques temps est la prière de Jésus – Jésus Christ, Fils de Dieu, aie pitié de moi pécheur. Puis je dois me souvenir de mettre ma croix. La plupart du temps je m’en souviens juste avant de quitter la pièce.

Notre autel du Día de los Muertos

On prend le déjeuner et le dîner à l’heure qui convient à chacune, et on se retrouve à cinq à la maison pour le souper, puis ensuite pour la prière communautaire. Chacune cuisine un soir par semaine, et ça a été amusant d’étirer mes muscles culinaires qui s’étaient bien atrophiés pendant ces 6 dernières années à vivre seule. De la même façon, j’anime la prière environ un soir par semaine. La prière communautaire inclut presque toujours un chant et l’office divin du soir, cependant nous avons eu un service spécial la semaine dernière pour le Día De Los Muertos et nous avons dressé un autel pour nos chers disparus. Le contenu de la prière varie selon la personne qui anime la prière et chaque soir est différent mais spécial. Le dimanche, nous participons à un partage de la foi et apprenons à nous connaître à un niveau plus approfondi. Ce qui m’impressionne le plus quand nous prions ensemble est que chaque soir, lorsque le temps de la contemplation en silence arrive, l’énergie du silence de 5 personnes est puissante et palpable. Je suis déjà une personne du soir, mais après cette poussée d’énergie, je suis rechargée, éveillée pendant longtemps.

Je vais à la messe tous les jours, ce qui est une chose avec laquelle je pensais avoir des difficultés. Cependant, j’ai trouvé que la messe quotidienne est merveilleuse – elle est courte, va à l’essentiel, et offre un rappel régulier d’apporter le Christ dans le monde. De plus, je vais dans une église différente tous les jours ce qui me permet d’explorer les églises, les quartiers, et d’observer les gens. J’y vais souvent à pied puisqu’il y a 6 églises à moins de 45 minutes de marche.

Le lundi et le mercredi, je rencontre ma responsable du noviciat et je découvre la vie religieuse, la formation à la CND, des informations spécifiques au noviciat, et les possibilités de croissance personnelle. Les semaines suivent des thèmes (j’adore), ce qui implique des lectures d’articles et de livres (j’adore encore plus), et j’ai des « devoirs » sous la forme d’une courte réflexion pour chaque thème (je pense que ma responsable préfèrerait que j’écrive moins... mais je lui ai expliqué une fois que ça me prend deux paragraphes rien que pour éternuer, alors elle est coincée avec de longues dissertations).

Avec soeur Kathleen Deignan

Le mardi et le mercredi soir, j’assiste à des cours. L’un d’eux est un cours de second cycle à l’université Fordham sur l’Ancien Testament. C’est un cours incroyable qui a changé ma façon d’écouter les lectures pendant la messe car il fournit le contexte, la culture et l’histoire des récits. L’autre est un cours de premier cycle au Iona College sur la cosmologie de l’univers et comment les étoiles et la spiritualité sont inextricablement liées (extraordinaire bien sûr). Ce cours est enseigné par une de nos sœurs – Kathleen Deignan, et cela a été une source d’inspiration d’entendre son mysticisme et sa sagesse. Au prochain semestre, je passerai au Nouveau Testament et à Teilhard de Chardin (J’espère!)

Le jeudi je rencontre un groupe de novices et leurs formatrices (responsable de noviciat, responsable, etc.) et nous

Amies en formation

apprenons ensemble. Nous nous rendons dans les différentes maisons afin de voir l’espace personnel les unes des autres, voyageant jusqu’au Connecticut, la Pennsylvanie et le New Jersey. Parmi les sujets abordés : la doctrine sociale catholique, la prière, la réflexion théologique, et le développement psychosocial. Toute une gamme, c’est le moins que l’on puisse dire. Ce groupe de novices fait partie d’un plus grand groupe qui se réunit six fins de semaine par an, pour toutes les personnes en formation – les candidates (comme moi l’année dernière), les novices, les nouvelles professes (en ministère avec des emplois et qui ont fait la promesse de rester un an ou deux de plus jusqu’à ce qu’elles soient prêtes pour leurs vœux perpétuels), et nos formatrices. L’année dernière, j’ai pris l’avion de l'Île-du-Prince-Édouard à New York à sept reprises pour rencontrer ce groupe, j’avais donc déjà un cercle d’amies lorsque je suis arrivée.

Le vendredi est la « journée du Camino » ou « journée du désert », pendant laquelle j’essaye d’assimiler les notions acquises durant la semaine de manière intentionnelle, en silence autant que possible. C’est presque une journée de retraite à chaque semaine et ça me rappelle de ne pas en faire trop. J’ai l’occasion de lire, de bloguer, d’aller marcher pendant 8 heures, ou de faire vraiment ce que l’Esprit m’inspire, mais avec pour objectif de le faire intentionnellement.

Mes colocs à Broadway

En tant que communauté – nous organisons une soirée de jeux de société par semaine et nous jouons aux cartes (à ma demande), nous regardons la télévision ensemble certains soirs (en ce moment, je suis obsédée par les programmes « Good Place » et « Project Runway »), nous nous glissons dans l’église sans lumière au milieu de la nuit pour prier (chut, gardez ça pour vous!), nous cuisinons ensemble, nous allons nous promener, et nous sommes même allées à un spectacle de Broadway (nous avions 5 billets gratuits!!). C’est une expérience plutôt extraordinaire.

Super visite de UPEI à NY

Je dors un bon 7 heures par nuit – plus que ce que j’avais l’habitude d’avoir. Je participe au nettoyage même si mes efforts se concentrent surtout sur l’entretien de la maison – réparer les éviers, installer des choses, construire des étagères, etc. J’ai le temps d’apprendre à jouer de quelques instruments, de profiter de la solitude de ma chambre lorsque l’introvertie en moi est saturée de « l’être-ensemble ». Il y a beaucoup de choses que je ne mentionne pas – comme des trajets en ville pour visiter un musée, les visites d’amis qui passent dans le coin, les rencontres communautaires de la province, les rassemblements des personnes associées à la CND, les conférences sur la pauvreté ou l’activisme écologique, et la célébration de la vie des sœurs lors d’obsèques (quelques-unes jusqu’à présent).

Je pense que ce sont les points forts. C’est un horaire chargé, c’est certain; je me demande où sont passées les journées et comment 11 semaines se sont déjà écoulées! Je suis pleine de reconnaissance pour les personnes avec qui je vis, je chéris les leçons que j’ai apprises, et je redoute le jour où ces deux années tireront à leur fin. (Libby Osgood, novice de la CND)