the sacrament of letting go...

Today is a perfect midwinter day in New England: the dog is sleeping after a full weekend with the grandchildren; a light, dry snow is falling continuously; I am preparing homemade chicken rice soup from the remains of Saturday's feast; and Di's laptop has returned fully restored. There's a mountain of laundry to do, spiritual reflections to draft, too as well as dusting, vacuuming, and Zoom meetings to attend... Just not right now - today is all about simmering, resting, and reflecting. Yesterday, on "Small is Holy" (https:// www.facebook. com/Be-Still-and-Know-913217865701531) I shared this poem by Macrina Wiederkehr:

Slowly

She celebrated the sacrament of

Letting go...

First she surrendered her Green

Then the Orange, Yellow, and Red...

Finally she let go of her Brown...

Shedding her last leaf

She stood empty and silent, stripped bare

Leaning against the sky she began her vigil of trust...

Shedding her last leaf

She watched its journey to the ground

She stood in silence,

Wearing the color of emptiness

Her branches wondering:

How do you give shade, with so much gone?

And then the sacrament of waiting began

The sunrise and sunset watched with

Tenderness, clothing her with silhouettes

They kept her hope alive.

They helped her understand that

her vulnerability

her dependence and need

her emptiness

her readiness to rece4ive

were giving her a new kind of beauty.

Every morning and every evening she stood in silence and celebrated

the sacrament of waiting.

I cherish a day such as this and seek to live into it fully. For even in this new phase of my journey, deep silence must not be taken for granted. A photo my daughter took on our walk through the woods yesterday captures some of what's at stake.

Perspective. A sense of place. Honoring what is mine to honor and respectfully celebrating the sacrament of letting go.