Our journey through spring has been an incredible tapestry of travel and teaching. March saw us guiding young adults on a transformative pilgrimage to Glendalough. April took me back to the inspiring landscapes of the Northwest U.S., where I led retreats and training sessions. In May, we journeyed to Vienna to conduct a monastic pilgrimage, and June brought us home to Galway to lead another group of pilgrims here. This season has been a profound blessing. At its heart, our work is about connection, and spending time with so many wonderful people in such breathtaking locations feels like an immeasurable gift.
Pilgrims dancing in Glendalough, Ireland, embodying the spirit of 'we dance' during a Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks pilgrimage
Summer now offers a time of spaciousness at the Abbey. John and I are embracing this period for rest and renewal, and to dream together about the path ahead. I am also eager to dedicate time to a new book project, looking forward to those long stretches where I can fully immerse myself in the creative process.
Some months ago, I had the pleasure of supporting a fundraising campaign for the new album of Joel McKerrow, an Australian spoken word artist whose work deeply resonates with me. My donation included a poem written by Joel, and I shared the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks website with him, curious to see what it might inspire. The result is a poem that I truly cherish:
To experience Joel reciting these words, click here for the audio file>>
We Dance. We dance wildly. Not in structured steps or repeated patterns. We dance expansively. We dance with flailing arms, embracing the erratic, the wriggle, the stumble, and the fall, without the need to immediately rise. For in our stumbles lies our dance, and our dance is our rebellion, our declaration, and our surrender. Our falling to the earth is an acknowledgment that it is in the dust, the grime, the footprints, in the missteps and the weary body, in the very act of falling, that we truly encounter the holy and the sacred. We meet God on the floor.
And so, we choose not to rush to stand, not to maintain composure, not to pretend we have life, God, mystery, or any question neatly resolved. Our dance is in our stumbling, and our stumbling is our dance. How disorderly we may appear, how undignified and messy, yet we dive headfirst into the unknown, surrendering to a rhythm that is more expansive. A song heard only in the quiet, only by the listening ear, only in the uncharted territories. A whisper at the edges of perception.
We discover ourselves in losing ourselves. In the wilderness, in the untamed. The Christ who gathers, the Christ who descends. Releasing control, embracing the smallness of humility, the vastness of mystery, the immensity of seeking the sacred in everything. Never recoiling from life, but plunging more completely into its depths. We dance, and feel our bodies, once heavy, begin to move. We dance, and feel the weight lift as we take flight. We dance to find liberation.
We dance to bring redemption, to untangle the beautiful. We dance to a new rhythm, an ancient rhythm, a holy rhythm – the rhythm that binds all things. We dance to create space. We dance to join hands. We dance and we dance and we dance until we are dizzy and on the verge of falling. We dance. We dance wildly.
We are the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks. —Joel McKerrow
To listen to Joel’s own reading of these words, click here for the audio file>>
I am deeply thankful to Joel for so eloquently capturing the essence of our community.
Please take a moment to explore Joel’s website and discover his first album, One Foot in the Clay (I am particularly moved by his poem “Dweller,” which we often share on our pilgrimages, and the powerful, mystically rooted poem “God”). Also, explore his latest album, Welcome Home (the title track is a potent anthem for artists, and “The Search” is a call to journey to the wild frontiers). He is an incredibly gifted and soulful artist.
Will you dance with us today, dear monks?
With great and growing love,
Christine
Photo © Rebecca Browne from our recent pilgrimage in Ireland
