“After a few hours of sweating with dirt all over me and insects buzzing around the upper half of my body, I may begin to get a sense of being in tune with nature.”
“It’s at these moments where I take note of a worm that is maneuvering its way out of the dirt or a butterfly that lands silently on a bush next to me.”
“With subtlety and a total lack of self consciousness, I come out of myself, look around, marvel at the majesty of what I am experiencing and begin to take note that I have entered some type of altered state of consciousness.”
Read the whole article here.
Fran Sorin is recognized as one of America’s leading gardening experts. 
The Celtic Wheel of the Year is a book of new and original prayers by Tess Ward and published by O Books. It intertwines the two strands of Celtic Christian and Celtic pre-Christian traditions in a single pattern of prayer. 
Tess Ward was a psychiatric nurse and is now an Anglican priest and spiritual director and counselor. She has been a chaplain at an arts center, alternative worship leader, leads retreats and spirituality groups, and has been “road testing” her prayers for eight years. She lives in Oxford, England, where she is now a hospital chaplain.
Celtic Christians valued the natural environment for its own sake. They valued times of quiet in solitary and often wild places, where they could read Scripture, meditate and pray.
Because they lived close to the natural environment, it is not surprising that Celtic Christians discovered the immanence of God. Their poetry often echoes those Psalms which speak of God in nature (Ps. 19, 89, 98) suggesting a similar spiritual process at work.
The following extract of a poem in the Celtic psaltery is attributed to St. Columba in Iona:
“Delightful it is to stand on the peak of a rock, in the bosom of the isle, gazing on the face of the sea.
I hear the heaving waves chanting a tune to God in heaven; I see their glittering surf.
I see the golden beaches, their sands sparkling; I hear the joyous shrieks of the swooping gulls.
I hear the waves breaking, crashing on the rocks, like thunder in heaven. I see the mighty whales…
Contrition fills my heart as I hear the sea; it chants my sins, sins too numerous to confess.
Let me bless almighty God, whose power extends over the sea and land, whose angels watch over all.
Let me study sacred books to calm my soul; I pray for peace, kneeling at heaven’s gates.
Let me do my daily work, gathering seaweed, catching fish, giving food to the poor.”
“Therefore, neither he that planteth is any thing, nor he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.”
The writer had evangelizing on his mind with this line, but I thought about my garden. I lovingly covered up the roots with soil; I water the plants thoroughly, even refreshing the leaves; I admire them from close and afar, I glory in their color and wildness.
But it is God who infuses them with life. 
I came across this interesting article about Rabbi Jami Korngold in yesterday’s Daily News.
As the founder of the Adventure Rabbi program in 2001, she has become nationally known for her pioneering work integrating spirituality and the outdoors. Rabbi Korngold lives in Boulder, Colorado with her husband and two daughters.
She was in New York last week to lead a group of 20 souls through the wilderness of Central Park. “For me, walking into Central Park is like walking into the Sabbath,” she said. “But you have to be aware of it and have to create a spiritual place.”
Rabbi Jami Korngold has always loved the outdoors, the place where humankind first met with God. Whether it’s mountaineering, running altramarathons or just sitting by a stream, she finds her spirituality and Judaism thrive most in the wilderness.
In her work leading individuals and groups toward spiritual fulfillment in the outdoors, Rabbi Korngold has uncovered the rich traditions and lessons God taught our ancestors in the wild. In her new book, God in the Wilderness, she shows people that despite the hectic pace of life today, it is vital for us to reclaim these lessons.
I think she is doing great work reminding people of the connection of God and nature in their lives, and awakening that whole part of them. I know her example would have appealed to me as a teenager, college student, and even now, as a person who feels the closest and most in awe of God in nature.
I hope she has a Catholic counterpart!
This month I went with 24 other members of my parish on a week’s pilgrimage, “Ireland - Faith & History.” We generally followed in the footsteps of St. Patrick, a patron saint of Ireland. This former slave fled and then returned to bring Christianity to the fabled isle. He was captured by raiders sent by one of my ancestors, Niall of the Nine Hostages.
Their second patron saint, in whose steps we criss-crossed, is St. Brigid. She was the daughter of a Christian slave and an Irish chieftain. Brigid defied her father by refusing to marry, and instead trooped off with a pack of female friends to live together as a religious community. By accident (or not) she was reputedly ordained as a bishop. St. Brigid is associated with fire and milk - no doubt from her time spent in fosterage with a druid priestess.
Both Patrick and Brigid are associated with holy wells. We had Mass at one of them - Tobernalt Well - near Sligo. This hillside site is just off a small road into the woods. Over time this site has become a sacred grove, with banks of votive candles flickering on the pathways above the well. The effect is enchanting; a blend of natural and Christian divine energy.
The healing stone in the center of the grove has been used as an altar for centuries; perhaps millenniums. It is located just below the well itself. It has a depression at one end where you can rest your back for back pain. On top of the stone are four indentations, said to have been left by St. Patrick’s fingers. If you rest your fingers there, some of the saint’s power is transferred to you.
I walked down the several steps into the well and dipped my hand in the water to bless myself. A clear, pure stream rushes from the source. There is a tradition that the well contains a sacred trout. I believe it - the water is cold enough to support trout.
Fr. Tom began the Mass by reminding us the site was used by Catholics to practice their faith in secret when the area was under the domination of protestant overlords. We need to remember the persecution they endured, their struggle and sacrifice, and never take the practice of our faith for granted. Today, this means standing firm instead of worrying that in some circles our faith might be considered a bit…uncool. (You actually attend Mass? Really?)
I love having Mass outdoors. Sensing the presence of God in all the elements, I fully understand why the Greeks had their temples open to the sky.
The Communion of Saints felt real under the canopy of trees. We stood with all the people who ever came to this sacred place to worship. Several local people who had come to the well joined our group at Mass. They included an elderly man who pushed his wife in a wheelchair up the stony path; a mother holding a baby and chasing a youngster who delighted in skipping around the shrine; a middle-aged woman and her dog, and two young men who knelt to light candles.
After Mass was over I followed the stream to see if I could see the sacred trout. I didn’t find it, but I’m sure it was there, waving its tail slowly in some shadow.
Earth Hour started with a question: How can we inspire people to take action on climate change? The answer: Ask the people of Sydney, Australia to turn off their lights for one hour.
On March 31, 2007, 2.2 million people and 2100 businesses in Sydney turned off their lights for one hour - Earth Hour. If the greenhouse reduction achieved in Sydney during Earth Hour was sustained for one year, it would be equivalent to taking 48,616 cars off the road for a year.
Earth Hour founder, Andy Ridley, said 371 cities and towns from Australia to Canada–35 countries in all–had signed up for the 60-minute shutdown at 8 pm on March 29, 2008.
Ridley, who began Earth Hour last year while working with WWF Australia, said the initiative was about individuals and global communities joining together to own a shared problem - climate change.
Cities officially signed on include Chicago, San Francisco, Dublin, Manila, Bangkok, Copenhagen and Toronto, all of which will switch off lights on major landmarks and encourage businesses and homeowners to follow suit.
“Switching off the lights for an hour is not going to make a dent in global emissions,” said WWF organizer, Charles Stevens. “But what it does do is it is a great catalyst for much bigger changes. It engages people in the processes of becoming more energy efficient.”
Catholics in Toronto who wish to express their love of Earth liturgically will have a chance on March 29th when St. Basil’s Church holds “Earth Hour” vespers.
St. Basil’s, located at Bay and St. Joseph Streets, will mark the occasion with candlelight vespers from 8 to 9 pm. The prayers and readings for the service will focus on creation and the Christian responsibility to be good stewards.
Sr. Melannie Svoboda, author of Traits of a Healthy Spirituality, has just penned a new book: When the Rain Speaks: Celebrating God’s Presence in Nature.” Each of her meditations offers a unique perspective on things we often take for granted. In “The Art of Beholding,” she says that beholding lies at the heart of spiritual life and that it is the first step toward contemplation, which is the prayerful attentiveness to something–a word in scripture, the blueness of an iris, a movement of one’s spirit, the song of a chickadee, the sound of rain on a porch roof.
“As a child growing up on a small farm, I experienced a deep love for nature,” she said. This love has carried over to her vocation as a teacher, author and spiritual director. Formerly the provincial of her congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame of Chardon, Ohio, Sr. Melannie Svoboda currently writes and gives talks and retreats nationally.
There was a delightful article in the December 20, 2007 New York Times on labyrinths. Written by Ann Raver, it chronicles the experience of Pamela White, a garden designer, who built a labyrinth in the woods in Maryland.
This ancient form has been used for walking meditations in which those who enter shed their emotional burdens, fears, sorrow, and even evil spirits. According to Robert Ferre, a labyrinth builder and teacher in St. Louis, fishermen had a great belief in labyrinths. “They would walk the labyrinth before going to sea, to shed the evil spirits that sank their ships or made the weather bad.”
Labyrinths are easy to draw, find and research, as shown on the Labyrinth Society’s website, a good source of historical and practical information.
“The design of a labyrinth echoes spirals in nature, from a snail’s shell to the inner ear to the winding of a bean vine as it springs from the earth. Evidence of labyrinths has been found in Minoan Crete as well as Europe, India and the American Southwest, according toe Hermann Kern’s “Through the Labyrinth: Designs and Meanings over 5,000 Years.”
A famous church labyrinth in the United States is Grace Cathedral in San Francisco.
