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Two Cindys–on Retreat at St. Meinrad

April 26, 2013 by Sybil Macbeth Leave a Comment

The name Cindy means “woman from Mount Cynthos or Kynthos” (from the name Cynthia) or perhaps, “light” (from the name Lucinda). When I looked up the origin of the name, I expected something a little more dramatic like “woman who empowers, equips, transforms, liberates.” Two of my closest friends are Cindys. Their combined bios include titles and descriptors like CPA, M.Div, MLS, artist, storyteller, librarian, cardmaker, VW engine rebuilder, cook, clavichord builder, mother, theologian, wife, singer, reader, mystic, host, Christian, and friend. Both Cindys have changed my life and empowered me to do things I was too scared to do.

The first Cindy in my life handed me a black pen and colored markers. When my “C-minus-in-Art-self” panicked and almost ran from the room, she opened her kitchen drawer and asked me to choose an interesting object. “Trace around it,” she said, “and when you’re finished, keep going.” In that moment, she set me free to doodle, draw, and color with the tools of an artist–no skill required.

The second Cindy nudged (forced, actually) me to incarnate some of the daydreams in my head. “Wouldn’t it be fun if you told a story and I danced it?” I mused out loud. In my cowardly mind my “wouldn’t-it-be-funs” were always just fantasies not possibilities. The next thing I knew we were performing in front of a woman’s group. My fantasies almost always became realities when voiced in front of Cindy. “Wouldn’t It be fun to lead a workshop together on storytelling and dance?” Bingo! We were on the program of a large Christian Ed conference.

Both of my Cindy relationships feel like experiences of Christian community at its best. The body of Christ verses in 1Corinthians 12 come to mind. When I didn’t seem to be hearing any direct God messages of freedom or vocation or renewal, the Cindys became my divine encouragers with hands and feet and voices. They helped me to see myself anew and to behave in new ways.

I’ve been thinking about them during my monastery week because there is physical evidence in my room of their influence. I go almost nowhere without my markers. My first Cindy gave me the tools and the permission to pray in color. My second Cindy is no longer on this earth. She died about five years ago of ovarian cancer. But when I first came up with the daydreamy idea of spending a week at a monastery, I could hear her slightly impatient voice, “Pack up the car, sister, and hit the road.” One of the things she always packed in her car was a small vase. “Fill it with local flowers; it will brighten up your room.” My vase has lilacs and colorful weeds.

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Filed Under: Praying in Color Tagged With: Christian community, Cindy, monastery, Praying in Color, St.Meinrad Archabbey

St. Meinrad Archabbey Day 2 1/2

April 24, 2013 by Sybil Macbeth Leave a Comment

I arrived at St. Meinrad Archabbey in the rolling hills of Indiana on Monday afternoon. St. Meinrad is both a town name and the name of the Benedictine monastery that has existed here since the mid 1800’s. The beauty of the setting and the buildings was unexpected. Dogwoods, forsythia, azaleas, red-buds, hellebore are all in bloom. A palette of greens, browns, yellows, and pinks spatters the hills with color. The sandstone Archabbey Church is a fabulous worship space filled with mesmerizing geometric designs and beautiful liturgical art and sculpture by local artisans.

The purpose of my visit is a week-long, self-imposed retreat to jump-start some writing projects. I am under the misguided illusion that my house and daily life are a distraction to creativity. A block of time away will give me the chance to read, think, pray, write, draw, listen to the Spirit, worship, pay attention and come home with a full-blown book. A few of those things might happen. I’ve been on enough retreats to know this: What I expect and what I receive are often very different. If I’m really listening, my own plans may get vaporized. While I’m alone and “undistracted,” God might have something else in mind.

I have survived my personal monkdom for about 48 hours now. It may not be my permanent calling but for now I’m content to be fed, worship several times a day, take walks and park myself in a chair to read and study.
Two unsought mini-miracles happened last night. (A surprised “Gasp” of delight qualifies an event as a mini-miracle.)
1. At about 8PM I went to the refectory for hot water for tea. The doors were closed. But in the hallway to the refectory were a bunch of priests being entertained by a host monk. They had a tableful of wine; they offered me a glass. If turning tea into wine isn’t a miracle, I don’t understand the concept.
2. I took my wine outside and saw the night sky in the picture below.
So far there is no great miracle of writing. But there’s still time. My friend Susan from Memphis made this wacky observation: “It appears that you are at Hogwarts!  Maybe this means that you will be writing a best seller while you are there.” If that’s true, I guess the book about liturgical practice will just have to wait.

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Filed Under: Praying in Color Tagged With: Benedictines, Hogwarts, St.Meinrad Archabbey

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