Stone Circle in Kenmare, Co. Kerry, Ireland

After a recent trip to Ireland, I started talking to boulders. The ones in my yard and the big rocks I saw along my morning walks. 

Yep, kinda weird. 

But what if rocks have souls? What if leaves have spirits? Perhaps you’ve heard the quote from the Talmud that “every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, "Grow, grow!"

Whether or not there are that many angels, it seems clear that we have lost a sense of awe and wonder in today’s uber-rational, analytical world. The Celtic Wheel is turning from the last harvest of Autumn towards the darkness of the Winter Solstice, and this time of year invites us to recapture that sense of awe and wonder.

If we saw everything as sacred, our eyes would be open to awe.

As I delve deeper into the Celtic way of being in the world, I am prompted to remember that God’s presence is everywhere all at once. This is a critical and urgent realization for us right now because it requires us to acknowledge the interconnectedness of all creation, all the people and all the rocks.

Everything is sacred. This may be a challenging concept to hold while reading disturbing headlines in the news. But consider how the headlines would change if we saw the sacred in the other. How would our actions towards each other and toward the earth change if we could perceive the divine dwelling there? 

God is in all things. Over 500 years ago, St. Ignatius urged people to find God in all things. If God is in all things, then everything has the potential to wake us up to the first point above: Everything is sacred. 

Richard Rohr wrote a book that is called “The Universal Christ: How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything,” but he originally wanted to name it “Christ: Another Name for Everything.” That stuck with me more than any of the lessons from the book. Seeing Christ as the animating energy force in all the people and all the things, even the boulders, would change everything. If we really believe that Christ is another name for everything, we could regard all creation with more awe and wonder. We could treat our own bodies as temples of the Great Spirit. We could bring a little more compassion to those in our midst.

Back when I was doing graduate work in theology, I spent far too much mental energy figuring out the difference between panentheism (God in all things) and pantheism (God is all things or all things are God). The first term is considered an orthodox belief aligning with St. Ignatius’ ‘finding God in all things.’ The second term has been marshy ground for me. 

In Noel Dermot O’Donoghue’s book called The Mountain behind the Mountain, I learned that God can express Godself as whatever God chooses. The sun is God expressed as the sun. The sun is not a metaphor for God, but rather is God’s expression. O’Donoghue remembers that once he thought God was to be found only in a chapel. But then it became clear to him that

“God was also on the mountain and spoke to me and my people in a thousand ways, in dawn and sunset, in the sun, moon and stars, in the changing seasons and the changing weathers.”

Recently, I realized that rather than wasting energy drawing the line between panentheism and pantheism, I could be joyfully dancing over the line and back again. The important thing is to see God in it all. And to be open to the myriad ways that God is trying to speak to you.

Honor Your Ebb and Flow. A couple of years ago, I started paying attention to the moon and her cycles. All month long, the moon waxes and wanes. Sometimes like right now, the moon is a bright example of putting yourself out there in the public eye. Other times, the moon appears to be invisible, giving us permission to rest and catch our breath. To embrace the rhythmic cycle of ebbing and flowing is to push back against the linear march of productivity. And that seems essential now.

As we move through these days of Samhain, Hallowe’en, All Saints and All Souls Feast Day celebrations, take some time to remember your ancestors. Borrow the idea from the Mexican tradition of el Día de Muertos and create an altar to colorfully and joyfully celebrate your loved ones. Include their photographs, their favorite foods, some bright orange marigolds, and a few candles. If you haven’t watched it yet, I highly recommend the 2017 Pixar movie Coco, inspired by the Day of the Dead celebration.

This is also a good time to honor what has ended in your own life. Notice any practices or beliefs that you have outgrown and release those. Reflect on ones that need to end because they have become constrictive or no longer helpful. Allow yourself time to rest and align with the energy of this season, knowing that resurrection and new life always follow death in nature and in the cycle of each year.

May you find baskets full of joy, and maybe some good Hallowe’en candy, in your response to the invitation to more awe and wonder. And if you get a rock instead, tell it I said hello!

P.S. I’m working on a special gift for everyone on my email list! Aren’t a subscriber yet? Just click here: https://artfulspirituality.myflodesk.com/subscribehere

P.P.S. I’ve also been creating a few beautiful pieces of original artwork - have a peek at my teasers below! Those pieces will be available for sale along with some prints and new cards in my shop at the beginning of December. Another perk of being on my email list: you get first dibs!!