How Is It?

When I was young, I was fascinated by the 70's mystical martial arts western cult classic, "Kung Fu."

In an early episode of the show, the young Shaolin student, Kwai Chang Caine (played by David Carradine) meets the blind master Po for the very first time. After providing a little lesson in humility, Master Po asks his new student to take a moment to close his eyes and just simply listen. 


"What do you hear?" inquires the old man. 


"I hear the water. I hear the birds," replies the boy questioningly. 


The master inquires again, "Do you hear your own heartbeat?" 


"No," the boy states matter-of-factly. 


"Do you hear the grasshopper which is at your feet?" 


Surprised to find that indeed, a grasshopper was resting at his feet, the young apprentice exclaims, 


"Old man, how is it that you hear these things?" 


With gentleness, patience and a little laugh in his voice, the master replies, 


"Young man, how is it that you do not?" 


How is it that you do not? 


How is it that I do not? 


How is it that we do not, 


Hear the the voice of God?


For all around us...everywhere and in everything...God is whispering to us, revealing Himself to us, beckoning us to lay our burdens down and simply come.


He ecstatically calls to us in the playful babbling of a nearby brook. He croons to us in the sweet courting trill of birdsong. She is imminent with every miraculous, resounding contraction of our heart and emergent in every live-giving breath that fills our lungs. 


His glory is revealed in the grandeur and mysterious, intricately-weaved complexities of the universe. The earth clutches at the bed sheets - roaring, rolling and pitching with wave after spastic wave - convulsing in pregnant anticipation of His imminence. 


And yet, He is so quietly and gently intrinsic within even the simplest of creatures who rest humbly at the feet of God's image-bearers, like a woman named Mary resting at the feet of Jesus, revelling in the wisdom and light of the Divine and wondering, 


"How is it that they do not hear?"


***

Photo credit: My thanks to Onilad for licensing his beautiful work, "Imagoism" Creative Commons so that I can share it with you. Please take a moment to view more of his amazing work!

An Ròcais Dubh A' Gheamhraidh (The Black Crow Of Winter)

Thàinig an ròcais dubh a' gheamhraidh 
'S tha an talamh fo gheasaibh a-nis
'S e na shuain chadail dhraoidheil
Fo bhrat-spèillidh sneachda geal

***

The black crow of winter has come
And the land is under it’s spell
Deep in it’s magical slumber
Under snow white swaddling clothes

-- Mac, 2011






An Ròcais Dubh A' Gheamhraidh/The Black Crow Of Winter by Robert "Mac" MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Photo credit: My gratitude and thanks to H. Kopp-Delaney for licensing the "Watcher" with a Creative Commons license so that I can share it with you!

What Would You Find?

Whether you knew 
What you would find
Upon the journey of the mind 
Is simply moot
For simply put, 
A traveler ought not look behind
But rather, forward she will find
The Way
With all it’s joys and ills conceived
Adventure
Wrought by circumstance
And Providence received.


***


-- Mac, July 2008






What Would You Find? by Robert 'Mac' MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.


Photo credit: Many thanks to Marlon Malabanan for licensing his work "Journey" with a Creative Commons license so that I can share his art with you.

Hey The Gift, Ho The Gift!

Tonight is Christmas Eve and as the sun begins to set and as I prepare my mind and heart, meditating and reflecting on God's loving gift of kindness and friendship to humanity; He, extending His hand of peace to us in the person of Jesus the Christ, I began to sing an ancient Gaelic Christmas Carol, "Heire Bannag, Hoire Bannag", which means (Hey The Gift, Ho The Gift).

In both Scottish Gaelic and Irish, the word for Christmas is "Nollaig". The word can be traced back to the Old Irish word "notlaic", which comes from the Latin word "natalicii", meaning "a birthday party." The word also carries a specific reference to the birth of Jesus. So, if you want to say Christmas Eve in Scottish Gaelic, you would say "Oidhche Nollaig" (roughly pronounced "uh-yee-ch-ya nol-lack")

But there is another way of saying Christmas Eve in Scottish Gaelic, "Oidhche Nam Bannag" (roughly pronounced "uh-yee-ch-ya nam bah-nuck") or "The Night Of The Gifts."

According to Alexander Carmichael, the author of the epic work, "Carmina Gadelica", there once was an old Gaelic Christmas Eve (Oidhche Nam Bannag) custom of "Nuallan Nollaig" or "Christmas Rejoicing" that involved young men going about from house to house singing Christmas carols or chants.

The men were called "Gillean Nollaig" or "Christmas Lads" or "Nuallairean" ("Rejoicers") and they would gather together in small groups and then choose a leader. The leader was known as "am fear-duan" ("the song-man") and the rest were known as "na fir-fuinne" ("the chorus-men").  This roving troupe of young men would travel from home to home loudly singing carols and chants, the leader singing out a verse and the others responding with the chorus. After they finished, they would be rewarded with a gift; a tasty bread (or cake) known as "bannag."

Here's the song I began singing this afternoon as I reflected on God's gift to us, first in the original Gaelic:


Heire Bannag, Hoire Bannag


Heire Bannag, Hoire Bannag
Heire Bannag, air a bheò.


Mac na niula, Mac na neula
Mac na runna, Mac na reula
[Sèist]


Mac na dìle, Mac na deire
Mac na spire, Mac na speura
[Sèist]


Mac na lasa, Mac na leusa
Mac na cruinne, Mac na cè
[Sèist]


Mac nan dùla, Mac nan neamha
Mac na gile, Mac na grèine
{Sèist}


Mac Moire na Dè-meine
'S Mac Dè tus gach sgeula
{Sèist}


And again in English:


Hey the Gift, Ho the Gift
Hey the Gift on (for) the living


Son of the dawn, Son of the cloud
Son of the planet, Son of the star
{Chorus}


Son of the rain, Son of the deep (water)
Son of the welkin, son of the sky
[Chorus]


Son of the flame, Son of the blaze
Son of the earth, Son of the universe
[Chorus]


Son of the elements, son of the heavens
Son of the moon, Son of the sun
[Chorus]


Son of Mary of the godly mind
And the Son of God, origin of every story
{Chorus}


(N.B. - The "welkin" refers to the "vault of the sky" or the "celestial abode of God.")


***


So as I sing this song to myself, I'm reminded that Jesus is our "bannag"; He is our gift. He is our reward, though we have done nothing to really deserve it. In fact the bannag can't ever be earned. It's a free gift, given to us simply because God loves us, accepts us and wants us. And though we don't sing to receive the gift, we can sing in response to the Gift. We can rejoice like the "nuallairean" (rejoicers) of old, coming to God and lifting up our voices in praise to the Son, who is the origin of every story and every living thing.


Nollaig Chridheil dhuibh uile (Merry Christmas to you all)!


-Mac


Photo credit: My grateful thanks to Neil Mallett for licensing his photography with a Creative Commons license and allowing me to share it with you.

Oidhche Nan Seachd Suipearan (The Night Of The Seven Suppers)

Believe it or not, the winter solstice has become one of my favourite times of the year! Though I'm not particularly fond of the dark and cold, horribly prone to fits of depression and keenly aware that winter is yet just beginning in earnest, this time of year is surprisingly a time of hope and great joy for me!

This is the time when we in the Northern hemisphere receive the least amount of daylight and the darkness is at the zenith of it's power and influence; when the air is cold and the land is barren. But it is also the last day before, when once again, we embark upon our journey back to spring and the sun begins to linger in the sky just a wee bit longer every day; the promise of a spring soon to come, if we will just persevere.

It is an end and it is a beginning.

Light.

Hope.

The promise of spring.

Life.

Warmth.

Re-birth.

It is a memorial that salutes the cycle of darkness and light, slumber and awakening, infertility and fertility, death and life, burial and resurrection; an ancient promise that hearkens back to the Beginning of Beginnings.

In Scottish Gaelic the winter solstice is known as "Oidhche Nan Seachd Suipearan" - "The Night Of The Seven Suppers."

Though not much is known of the ancient customs and practices regarding "Oidhche Nan Seachd Suipearan," one can imagine that this phrase perhaps involved a winter solstice celebration; one last large feast prior to settling in to face the lean hardships and bleakness of winter. At the very least, it's likely that the cold, dark northern climate made it a necessity to eat 'extra' meals, hence the "seven suppers." As a Canadian, I can certainly attest to the fact that the body craves more food (meat and whole grains in particular) during the bleak cold of the "dark months," even with all of our modern amenities to comfort the body (The ancient Gaels also called the winter months of December through February "An Dubhlachd" meaning "The Darkness." In modern Scottish Gaelic, "An Dubhlachd" is the name given to the month of December, the darkest month in our modern calendar).

This ancient phrase hearkens back to another time and another place; a time before modern conveniences, commercialized holidays, stressed-outs shoppers and busy, bustling calendars bursting at the seams. It echoes a time when people had no choice but to slow down, live in harmony with life and land, God and nature; marking and commemorating the ebb and flow, the comings and goings, the times and seasons and the cycles and rhythms of life with sacred reverence.

And though it seems that The Night Of The Seven Suppers is one of those “Celtic” customs now shrouded in the mystery and speculation of romance and poetry; it's customs and traditions now all but relegated (as are many wonderful ancient Gaelic practices ) to the mumblings and whispers of long-forgotten ghosts urging us to remember "the ancient paths", I believe there is a deep wisdom and a clear, poignant message here for the living...

Here and now.

But like all good mysteries, I'm not going to spoil the joy and wonder of solving it yourself. That will be for you to puzzle out as you suck in the snap of the chill night air on a long walk through the snow, revel in the warm fellowship of a meal with family and friends, raise a toast to hope, life and the spring to come, and snuggle up to a crackling fire, staring dreamily into it for what seems like an eternity; basking in it’s magical glow and listening in rapt attention to the ancient Voice of Wisdom all around you.

"Chan eil an t-earrach fad' air dheireadh, nuair a thig an geamhradh" (When winter comes, spring isn't far behind) - Gaelic proverb

***

Photo credit: Many thanks to George Hinchliffe for his striking photo "Winter Berry." You can see more of George's work on Flickr.

Ainglean Beaga Geala (Little White Angels)

'S ann àrd os mo chionn
A tha a' ghrian ghlas fhann
Is tha ’n sneachda a’ dol 
Timcheall orm
Min-shneachda a’ tuiteam gun rian
Thall ’s a-bhos
Bleideagan beaga
Cho geal ri m’ fheusaig

Cròileagan bheaga
’S iad a’ gàireachdaich
’S a’ bocadh ’s leumadh
’S a’ dannsadh mun cuairt
Mar ainglean beaga geala

’S ann an priobadh na sùla 's a tha
Mi fhìn an sin còmhla riutha
’S mi a’ stobadh mo theanga a-mach
Air son bleideag no dhà a ghlacadh

’S ann an ceart uair ‘ud
'S a tha mi air mo ghiùlain
Air ais ann an tìm

’S mi fhìn nam phàiste a-nis
A’ bocadh ’s a' leumadh
’S a’ dannsadh mun cuairt

Saor ’s gun srian


***

The pale, wan sun 
Is high above me now
The snow twirling all around
Powder snow falling
Hither and thither
White flakes
As white as my beard

A circle of little children
Laughing,
Leaping,
Jumping
And dancing around
Like little white angels

In the twinkling of an eye
I am there with them
Pressing my tongue out
To snatch a flake or two

And right there and then
I am transported
Back in time

Now, I am a child again
Skipping and jumping
And dancing around

Free and unrestrained

***

Photo credit: "Snow Art" by Mac

 Ainglean Beaga Geala by Robert "Mac" MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Sacred Work

Sùgradh An Tì (The Flirting Of The Tea)

Tì ann an copan

Cho teth ’s uaine

An fhàileadh ag èirigh

Mar ceò air an locha

Mar na h-eòin 

air an sgèith

A’ beadradh mar a b’àill

’S mise fo gheasaibh

Fad greiseag gun uallach

***

Tea in a cup

So hot and green

The fragrance ascending

Like mist on the lake

Like birds on the wing

At play as they would

I am enchanted

For a moment

Careless and free

"Sùgradh An Tì" by Robert 'Mac' MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The Cobbled Path To Peace

World peace is a journey
That begins with a single, faltering step
Upon the cobbled path of inner peace.

Inner peace is the 

perfection of inner healing.
Inner healing is the fruit of acceptance.
Acceptance is the tree of life
That springs forth from Love.
Love is the seed.
Christ is the Seed.

God is Love.

God loves us…

All.

All of us.

His love frees.
Awakens our souls
To accept that we are accepted.
To accept ourselves.
To accept others.
To love others.
To love our neighbour.
To love our enemy.
To even love…

ourselves.

Acceptance is the tree that bears
the fruit of inner healing.
Inner healing is the beginning of inner peace.
Inner peace is the cobbled path
Which we must all walk
On our journey to world peace.

God is not a philosophy
or ideology.

No.
Not a a religion,
an argument,
or an excuse
for intolerance,
bigotry,
anger,
hate
or war.

God is Peace.

War is the outer conflict
That mirrors our inner conflict.
Hatred stoked by anger.
Anger fueled by rejection.
Rejection scourged by brokenness.
Brokenness stillborn from emptiness.
Emptiness…
The absence of love.
The absence of light.
A dark pit of despair

and futility.

God is light.

World peace is the journey
Where every single, faltering step
Upon the cobbled path of inner peace
Leads us closer to our true selves. 

Closer to freedom.

Closer to the Divine.

***

[Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God - Jesus]

The Cobbled Path To Peace by Robert 'Mac' MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Never Far Off

"Walk Into The Light" by Mutasim Billah

I may distance myself from God 

from time to time,

in the land of my sojourn,

wandering off in the ignorance 

of my self-absorbed

preoccupations and attitudes.

Yet God himself is never far off.

Never distant.

Never remote.

He is close enough to hear the raw,

unbridled "fuck" 

in my silent prayer of anguish.

Close enough to feel 

the angst and tension roiling;

a turbulent sea 

billowing and heaving in my gut 

that oft threatens to rend and dash me

upon the rocky, craggy, deserted shores of hopelessness

to haunt the cold, dark, empty space between life and death;

A spiritual castaway. 

She is close enough to hear my heart slam itself 
relentlessly,
in reckless, impetuous abandon,
against the walls of this temple of skin,
in holy desperation;
Breathlessly.
Longing for freedom.
Longing for release.
Clutching and tearing at the veil
that dulls and distorts my vision.


He is close enough to catch me
as I stumble and fall in my blind and weary state yet again
and again 
and again.


Yes, I may distance myself from God from time to time,
In the land of my sojourn,
wandering off in the ignorance 
of my self-absorbed preoccupations and attitudes.


But, He is never far off. 
She is always close. 
He is my faithful friend and traveling companion.


Mac
2011


***





Never Far Off by Robert 'Mac' MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Photo credit: Thanks and respect to Mutasim Billah of Dhaka, Bangladesh for allowing me to share his ingenious photo "Walk Into The Light."

Shhh!

"God Kept Me Company" by Mac

I climbed a high hill
One day
To watch the sunset
Breathless
But elated
When I reached the top
I found a grassy spot
On which to rest
And revel in the festivities
Much to my delight
I discovered
That I wasn’t alone
For God had decided
To keep me company

“O my Love
I exclaimed,
Looking at the scene
Stretched out before me
You’ve outdone Yourself
this time!”
Her eyes twinkled a little
Obviously delighted
With my enthusiasm
And her face radiated
With pure childlike joy and wonder
 

Then without a single word
She lifted her finger to her lips
“Shhh! Let’s just enjoy the moment”
And her Whisper filled and enfolded me
With life and peace
Though her mouth never moved
And the sweetest of smiles
Lingered upon her lips
 

So in the stillness
With nothing left to say
We lost ourselves
In a display of rapturous beauty
Our hearts as one
Lost in a single sliver of time
As the heavens expanded
Stretched out into eternity

And declared the glory of God.
***

  "Shhh!!" by Robert "Mac" MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

Music Induced Flashbacks

This is a guest post by good friend, fellow blogger, spiritual director and life coach, Michael Rose of I Am Significant. This post originally appeared on Michael's blog LivingLoved.

This summer we had the opportunity to check out three of my favorite childhood Canadian rock bands: Chilliwack, StreetHeart and Prism. Though much older now, less hair, voices not quite what they used to be, it didn’t seem to matter – the now 'old boys' could still get it done in the Rock 'n Roll department!  Each have a huge anthology of songs and they played a lot of them. With each hit they belted out, I became acutely aware of distinct and clear memories of my youth. I found myself smiling at each recollection and for an hour and a half I was transported back to a time before kids, marriage and a mortgage payment.

It wasn’t long though until my inner philosopher, the 'wonder-er' in me emerged and began to notice many of the people around me.  I found myself thinking about the different ages, body types, personalities and once again – facilitated by the reality that each person has a story to tell – each, as they were 'bangin' their head", playing air guitar and playing the imaginary drum kit to the music was probably experiencing a plethora of memories – rich with emotion and meaning.  

As I watched, my thoughts drifted to the gift of art. Even with the 70’s-80’s rock, I was aware that their music, their art, was pregnant with meaning, with memories, with story and probably several layers of it. I was struck by the capacity of art to carry such significance – it’s ability to be able to hold and communicate multiple dimensions of wonder, story, meaning and wisdom. The ability not only to mark a point in time but allow us a portal to experience it again but from a very different place; to be able to experience the music and the memories as a 44 year old instead of a 16 year old.

Several years ago I went to see a friend perform. She was a dancer and her performance was simply spectacular. For the first time, I experienced art that left me invigorated and deeply moved. To be honest, I remember being unsettled by the experience at first – "what was this thing that could touch me so deeply?" Art: music, painting, drawing, sculpting, poetry, photography, dance, etc. has the uncanny ability to engage us in a very deep place, beyond the intellect without abandoning it. In its various forms we not only engage with the creativity, emotions and thoughts of the artist, but a place where we can engage our own.

I have several poets I enjoy; never thought I would say that, but it’s true and the gift I have received from their poetry so often is to be able to take a word image, a thought, some wisdom, an idea, ideal or value and savor it – like a fine wine – to swish it, to chew it, to gargle it – experience the textures, the aromas, the tastes in various places in my mouth and then as it descends down, deep inside of me. Art allows us to experience it, to engage it and not simply analyze it and consume it superficially. For it is in the deliberate tasting – in experiencing art we can connect in a mindful way to something much deeper – to a place few learn to experience.

Art can also communicate mystery in ways that other means cannot. It can express the wonder of creativity, an aspect of God's nature which He no doubt imparts to us. Art can communicate the depth of a heart; the passion of love, the intensity of pure desire. It can communicate paradoxes and hold them together. Art can be a tool which can help us cultivate a deeper relationship with God. Art can help us communicate story and victory, sorrow and great pain and often times, in different forms transcend the very things which separate us as human beings.

The amazing thing is – we don’t even have to like a particular art form to benefit from it; for even if it is bitter in our mouths, it affords us the opportunity to engage it on that level – to explore and understand what about it is so distasteful for us. Another learning opportunity.  Art is important to us as it contributes beauty, insight, critique and innovation to a community.  Art can carry a great deal of meaning and can be a powerful tool for self discovery and healing.  My wife, a Recreation Therapist, uses art to help connect to her clients in various stages of dementia. Music often has the ability to reach in behind the confusion and fear to bring comfort and pleasure, but also the ability to connect to a memory and then to a sense of their identity if even for a brief time. Painting, sculpting and other forms of creativity has been demonstrated clinically to help improve the quality of life and bring people back to more active communication as it stimulates different parts of the brain.

This summer I was able to re-live these songs and the memories with my family, and now these bands and their art are now infused with even more, fond memories – the August summer evenings that we were together as a family, laughing, singing and enjoying life together. And I suspect, when old and grey slipping in and out of clarity of thought, as the Recreation Therapist cranks "Spaceship Super Star" by Prism and my fellow residents and I are rock 'n out – my heart will be full of childhood memories and a smile will take shape on my wrinkled lips as I remember these past summer concerts.

Photo credit: Huge thanks and shout out to Ryan Glanzer for sharing his photo, "Headphone Guy." You can check more of Ryan's work by visiting his website here.