outWORD by Matte Downey

We were supposed to go on vacation on March 15. On March 13, due to travel restrictions put in place to slow down the spread of COVID-19, we cancelled everything. The plane tickets to California. The hotel reservation a block away from the beach. The car rental. The bungalow in the desert. All of it. It was a hard day. I tried not to cry. And then I did cry because I needed to let the grief go somewhere. We had forgone a vacation last winter because we were busy renovating our bathrooms and time and money were tight. We promised ourselves that we would make up for it this year: taking a much-needed break from busy work/volunteer schedules and countering the demoralizing effect of a long, cold winter. We were so ready for ten days spent in warm temperatures, walking along the ocean, driving through desert landscapes, and eating tacos. Instead, Dean went back to work and I started making phone calls and sending emails in an effort to recoup the money we had already spent on the trip....

Image from Flickr I like to go for walks in my neighbourhood. Getting outside and engaging in some exercise is a nice change from my desk, but walking through the park and along the pond does more than get my blood and limbs moving; it also invigorates my spirit and my mind. When I am a bit depleted, tired, confused, discouraged, or fearful, going for a walk is really good medicine. Because looking at the birds, the grass, the flowers, the kids playing in the park, the trees, and the sky lifts me out of my self-absorption and places things in perspective. The feast of beauty available to my senses outside my front door invites my small and fearful heart to be still, to take it all in, to swell with gratitude and wonder and playfulness. Beauty is something which attracts us, which causes us delight, and captures our attention. When one stands before a great work of art, the concern is not first about what sort of paint the artist used or the exact measurements of the canvas. One s...

Abstract Painting by Jolina Anthony, image from fineartamerica.com I was in the subway a few weeks ago, waiting for the train to come. We have a lot of subway musicians in Montreal, people showcasing everything from rap music to classical opera to electric guitar solos to saxophone riffs. As is to be expected, some are better than others. This particular afternoon, as I stood and read my book while I waited for the train, I heard a ukulele being strummed and it made me stop reading. That in itself is quite something. Then I heard a sweet voice singing to the strumming, and I was compelled to turn around and look at the source. She was young, with long blond hair and baggy clothes. Her right hand was rhythmically stroking the strings, her eyes were closed, her face was tilted slightly down and to one side, and she sang a song that pierced my soul. I don't remember the lyrics, but I remember feeling like someone was showing me their most vulnerable, yet strong side. I stood the...

Image from thegardenparty.co.nz This past week, while I was on a research trip at the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana, I received news of another suicide. This time it was not a celebrity but someone close to my family. News like this cuts like a sharp knife. Breathing becomes more difficult when that heavy, dark stone has been dropped on your chest. Anger, sadness, despair, hopelessness, regret. These emotions flit through your soul with speed and sting. Without warning, your mind dives into dark thoughts and morbid scenes flash before your eyes. You have no words, no answers, no reasoning, nothing but silence and sighing. I received the shocking news about fifteen minutes before I was scheduled to attend a performance of Medea , a Greek tragedy by Euripides in which a mother exacts revenge on her unfaithful husband by killing their children. I didn't know if I had the fortitude to see tragedy heaped upon tragedy, but it was a unique opportunity to see a worl...

One of the buttons I am sewing onto a piece of clothing today If you are like me, you spend a lot of time attending to details and often these time-consuming tasks don't seem to affect much in the grand scheme of life. But they do. Today I wrote a little something for a practical theology blog about finding holiness and inspiration in the details of life. It comes from engaging with Ezekiel 40-43 where we find lots of detailed measurements and instructions for building the temple. Click  here  to read it. And enjoy the small stuff of life!

3D chalk drawing by Julian Beever Some people (and I can be one of them) tend to see the world in black and white, in terms of either good or bad, right or wrong, hot or cold, left or right. It makes life easier in many ways because when there are only two choices it is simple to tell the difference between them. Compartmentalizing life in this way (either/or) means that when we find ourselves on the "good" side of things (and we place ourselves there most of the time, admit it), we can relax. No gray areas to worry about, no nuances to unravel, no complex ethical quandaries to wrestle through. Just do the right thing and we're good, no questions asked. But not asking questions is a bit of a problem. People who don't ask questions, who don't look at situations from different angles...well, we call them extremists, blind followers, and even radical fundamentalists. We know them as people who don't bother to engage in the complexities of human experience. We...

The Cholla cactus in Joshua Tree Park.  Beautiful in its own way. I have begun reading the sixty plus titles that are required for my upcoming comprehensive exams.  I decided to tackle the weightiest works first (don't know if that is wisdom or craziness), so in the past days I have been reading Balthasar's thoughts on theological aesthetics.  It is fascinating, inspiring, and due to the density of the material, pretty challenging.  Balthasar starts his theological writings with one word: beauty.  And I must say, I think he's onto something.  Why is beauty so important? First, a few definitions of beauty.  At dictionary.com you can find the following descriptors of the word:  a combination of qualities such as shape, color or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight; a combination of qualities that pleases the intellect or moral sense.  Balthasar gives a more theological definition of beauty:...

Winter tree in Saint-Laurent.  Jan 28 2013 I am facilitating a spiritual formation course on Tuesday evenings based on the book, The Good and Beautiful God .  Basically, the book deals with aligning our perceptions of God with the God that Jesus presents in the New Testament.  It is a well-structured study with accessible language, group learning, and a spiritual discipline exercise (the author calls it soul-training) at the end of every chapter.  This week we were to spend 5 minutes in silence every day and take some time to observe creation. Sounds simple, and I basically do these two things most every day anyway.  But, as always seems to happen, the very week I am to practice these disciplines and write something about them, my schedule is turned on its ear.  I was working as a conference assistant for 3 days which meant early mornings and long days inside a classroom downtown.  In addition, I had a house guest for 4 d...

Me on the climb up Salisbury Crags in Edinburgh.  Basking in the beautiful sunshine. I did not post anything here last week, despite all my good intentions, because it was one of those times in the semester when everything piled up and it was all I could do to get my readings done, my assignments completed, my funding application sent in, a tutorial planned, host several social events in our home (Dean kept inviting people over!!!), put together a talk for our Sunday gathering, and get some sleep.  In the midst of all the craziness, there were several beautiful moments.  Let me share a few of them here. 1. I was on the metro one day and it was standing room only.  I was a bit annoyed not to get a seat because I like to sit and read, especially in the seats at the end of the car.  I was just getting over my wee bitterness when an elderly Chinese man hobbled onto the car.  A young guy immediately got out of his s...

Edinburgh Castle We drove into Edinburgh just before noon on Saturday, parked near the airport and caught a bus downtown.  We had been told that navigating and parking can be troublesome in UK cities, especially in summer, so we opted for finding our way into the city via the top deck of a double-decker bus.  We stepped off near Edinburgh Castle and were immediately surrounded by a large park, bustling shops, throngs of tourists, and Starbucks. High Street in Edinburgh.  Dean is on the sidewalk. After gawking at Edinburgh Castle for awhile, we sauntered around the park, slowed down to listen at a music stage, then headed up the hill to High Street.  It really is high, you know.  The first thing we encountered once we reached High Street was (you guessed it) a bagpiper, this time with a drummer.  A really funky combination!  We spent the afternoon walking from Edinburgh Castle (we didn't have time to go in, but we saw the police...

Fish selection in Arbroath.  Smokies are on the left. After a yummy lunch with my theology/theatre colleagues on Friday, the conference was done and Dean and I left St. Andrews (sorry we didn't have another day to spend there to enjoy the town).  We headed north up the coast and stopped at Arbroath, a fishing town, to check out the seafood.  Dean had been told to try a smokie, so we parked at the harbour and walked around.  There were plenty of fish shops scattered around the area, so we walked into one and Dean picked up a filleted, smoked fish. He said it was pretty tasty, but it took a bit of work to eat around the bones.  Dean and the car both smelled like smokey fish for the next day (ew!). We continued our drive up the coast, stopped at some wild crags for a bathroom break (in the public toilet, not off the crag), went for a wee walk in the windy hills, and then deci...

I like to take pictures.  I take quite a lot of them.  My iPhone is full of random snapshots that I like to capture while I go through life.  I take pictures of food before I eat it.  I take pictures of my neighbourhood as the seasons change.  I take pictures of unique products and silly situations and beautiful scenes.  I take pictures of things that make me laugh.  I take pictures of moments that I want to remember.  Sometimes when I go back and look at a picture, I see things that I never saw when I was there in the flesh at the moment I took the photo.  A picture can remind me of things I have forgotten.  At best, a picture allows me to slow down and really see. The picture above is one I took on rue St. Laurent yesterday of a band that was playing at the street festival.  I remember the energetic music and the vibrant performances of the musicians.  I remember the jazzy rhythms they incorporat...

We had some good friends from Tennessee visit us this past week.  They were only here for a short time, so that meant some tough decisions had to be made.   What did I want them to see in Montreal, remember about Montreal, know about Montreal, experience in Montreal?  It was tempting to make a list of every significant sight to see and experience to be had and try to get through as many as possible, but I resisted.  Instead, I wanted my friends to experience what I knew to be the richness of life in Montreal.  This meant that we leisurely enjoyed the day, took time to eat desserts and drink yummy drinks, sauntered into small shops and wandered along the water, talked to strangers and took silly pictures, drove slowly along narrow streets, stood and marveled at beautiful structures and artwork, spent some time in contemplation at a religious site, enjoyed pleasant and meaningful conversation over dinner as savoury,...

I don't own a pair of high heels.  I did try to wear them for a bit back when I was doing my first degree, but after a few months of tottering about, I pulled them off my feet one frosty spring morning and walked barefoot back to my dorm room, never to embrace the style again.  Whenever I see women in heels (especially those spiky, skinny ones that are sure to get caught in a grate or sidewalk crack or street sewer cover), I wonder how they do it.  I know that some women claim that they can be comfortable, and fashion sense insists that heels make the female leg look great, but I am not convinced.  I think my legs look great just as they are.  I don't need to be taller, either.  I do need to be able to walk safely (and occasionally break into a run) without fear or fatigue.  Silly me - I believe I can look good without 3-6 inches of scaffolding strapped to my foot. Heels a...

I have been looking through some of the pictures I took on our road trip to the East Coast this past weekend. The scenery through northern Maine was beautiful, as was the foggy, rugged landscape of New Brunswick. We didn't have a lot of time to trek around outside, so many of the pictures I took were through the windshield of a moving car. Now that I take a closer look at the the photographs, I can see all the bug guts splayed on the windshield, distracting from magnificent sunsets and lush greenery. I also notice all too many blurred images that indicate we were rushing past some amazing scene at high speed, and all I could do was capture an indistinct representation of its uniqueness. Sigh. Such is life. We see indistinctly and we hurry through. I often view the beauty of this world through the bug-spatter of my life's idiosyncratic paradoxes. Incredible scenes play out before my eyes even while small deaths are happening all around me. And if I am not attentive, bri...