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Society of the Sacred Heart, US Province

Lent and purple pugnacity

Until the recent storms the weather had been relatively mild; thus, even though it hasn't officially started, spring has gradually been seeping into winter. Daffodils and crocuses had already begun flowering some weeks ago, but now I walk past front gardens quickening with wide, ruffly camelias and expanding magnolia, while shoots and early buds can be found everywhere else. We are gently gliding into that lovely season full of promise and unfolding new life, its yellows and rosy pastels a soft antidote to our near-universally grey skies.

First Sunday of Lent reflection 2020

I remember riding on a bus through the Atacama Desert and being keenly aware of the stark sweeping flatness of it all. It seemed like everything three-dimensional was profoundly noticeable, present; somehow vulnerable, because it stood in such contrast to what surrounded it. Add in that we were in motion traveling through a place of wide stillness and that this bus held a larger population of people than most of the topography we covered. Over time, the road we were on became a subtle line between untethered freedom and an unsettling disturbance of fear.

First Sunday of Lent reflection 2020

I remember riding on a bus through the Atacama Desert and being keenly aware of the stark sweeping flatness of it all. It seemed like everything three-dimensional was profoundly noticeable, present; somehow vulnerable, because it stood in such contrast to what surrounded it. Add in that we were in motion traveling through a place of wide stillness and that this bus held a larger population of people than most of the topography we covered. Over time, the road we were on became a subtle line between untethered freedom and an unsettling disturbance of fear.

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