Archives for posts with tag: Ignatian Spirituality

Though your sins be like scarlet,
they may become white as snow;
Though they be crimson red,
they may become white as wool.

Is. 1:18

It is not easy to imagine my sins crimson red. I cannot be that bad, O Godde. I have a friend who refuses to look at sin in her life. Too much of it has been pushed down her throat over her many years by priests from the pulpit.

I find that in my life sin likes to go unnoticed. It makes itself small, harmless, innocuous. If I look at the span of my life, however, all the small, standard, and serious sins I have accumulated over time, I might as well face the crimson of my sins.

So here I am, Jesus, standing in the midst of my sins, sins that seep in every corner of my life, looking away so as not to face the pain they caused to many, but to You most of all. “Let us set things right,” You tell me. “If you are willing, and obey, they may become white as wool.”

You, Jesus, are on the cross, breathless, with no strength left. Your crimson blood shows the lashes of the whip; pearls of blood bead from your crown of thorns. You, the innocent one.

What have I done for You, Jesus?

What am I doing for You?

What will I do for You?

As I ponder the question, I walk with the Risen Christ on the beach. We talk of sin and love. I ask Him to change my heart, to help me obey, to become more willing. To follow you, O Risen One. Gently, He places his scarred hand on my heart and I feel His warmth, His life, a new life coming into me.

May the crimson of Your love beat in my own veins, Beloved.

Illustration: Autumn Lane, Kassel, Germany photo via fobsta, found on Pinterest.


Christian Unity Week

You shall not hate any of your kindred in your heart.

Reprove your neighbor openly so that you do not incur sin because of that person.l

Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people.

You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.

Leviticus 19:17-18

This past Tuesday, our Cursillo community met to celebrate Christian Unity Week. Our Cursillo retreats are  unique: both ecumenical and co-ed. A group of us, then, gathered for an Ultreya, with three of us to give a short reflection on the theme ‘Christian Unity’. We did not coordinate our talks, trusting that the Spirit would guide our meditations to fit all together.

A young woman opened the evening with a brilliant PowerPoint presentation on ‘Je Suis Charlie’ and what it meant in her life at work. She did extend Unity week to Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Über Atheists… Interestingly, the third and last speaker, while using the parable of The Good Samaritan, also expanded the theme to include all of the above, the Samaritan becoming a Muslim or an Über Atheist.

I came second and my bit went this way —

As a theme for Unity Week, we were given the verse: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”

The whole Leviticus quote is fascinating (“You shall not hate any of your kindred in your heart”…) because it reflects a rather dark vision of the human heart, a heart that Godde knows well. And so throughout the Bible, Godde reminds us to love our brother, our neighbor. Because we need to be reminded, again and again.

Who is my neighbor? How near or far away is my horizon? How wide is my heart? Does it stop at my own family, my friends, my own denomination, my own country? Or in a Teilhard de Chardin’s way, is my worldview cosmic?

This evening, I would like to add to our Leviticus quote the famous Lucan reply,  — “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”   Lk 10:25:37

Love Godde — love your neighbor — love yourself.

Loving Godde doesn’t seem so hard. But love my neighbor? Love myself?

When Paul and I walk the Camino de Santiago, I carry one or two stones with me to remind me of one person or another whom I simply cannot forgive. I leave this stone along the way when I feel I have achieved my goal. On one occasion, I nestled my stones next to the reliquary of Santiago in the crypt of the cathedral. Another time, I left a stone on the altar in the beautiful chapel of Cristo de Burgos,.

Often I ask Godde to help me forgive and, when I cannot forgive, I ask Her to forgive for me until I can.

Recently, during two different retreats, I was helped to see how to approach the commandment to love my neighbor as myself in a different way.

First, I was reminded that I cannot expect to love others if I don’t love myself. To love myself I need to connect with Godde’s love for me, to reach that “true self” which was mine at birth, before “life” added layers upon layers of “false self” upon it. I did not find this connection easy to do.

Last November, my director suggested that the point is not so much to tell Godde that I love Her, but that I let Godde love me and that I let myself experience Her love and Her mercy. Basically that I spend time with Godde, in silence, soaking Her presence and Her love for me.

Not long ago I came across a blog which recommends that “we become the Beloved.” The author says, “God calls me to struggle with the demons that insist that I am not the beloved, that I am not even worthy of love. God wants me to face my fears of not being good enough and know that my goodness comes first and foremost from who I am and to whom I belong.”

If I tell Godde that I love Her, which I do, I am in control. When I tune in to Godde’s love and allow Her to melt my heart, I am no longer in control at all.

Godde loves me, — loves each one of us. Godde created me out love and Godde died for me out of love. She sustains me out of love. She showers me with gifts throughout my days. How many proofs of Her love do I need? Godde knows my sin, loves me in spite of it, and, extraordinarily, does not let it come between Her and me.

Like the psalmist, I know my transgressions and my sins are forever in front of me (51). Yes, I see my failings, but Godde does not seem to see them.

If Godde can love me in this most extraordinary way, isn’t the least I can do to love others with all my heart, with all my being, with all my strength and with all my mind? And forgive them not 7 times, but 77 times 7?

For, is not loving Godde loving Her creation and Her creatures? If Godde can forgive these transgressions which I cannot forgive myself, can I not forgive the hurt that this person or that other person did to me?

So, for the love of You, — O Godde whom I want to love with all my heart –, I offer you my anger toward this old boss, this nasty neighbor, this unpleasant relative. I offer it to you and pray that you change it into something pleasing to You. I stand in awe at your love for me which helps me love myself and, in turn, makes all these old grudges become irrelevant.

With you at my side, forever wrapped in that love of yours which never fails me, I finally can begin to learn to love my neighbor as I love myself, thanks to You.

Illustration: A Chance To Meet (found here)

I saw this portrait of Ignatius for the first time last year in Manresa, Spain. We rarely imagine Ignatius this way, so gaunt, so stripped bare of any mark of prestige. He seems to offer himself naked of all pretense to the Godde who has ravished his heart and soul.

In a few days, Paul and I are returning to Manresa for a 30-Day retreat, a time of silence and stripping of layers accumulated over the years. All sorts of layers.

As I reflect on our decision to go through with this retreat, I am filled with wonder. Who would have ever thought that I’d be filled with joy at the idea of spending all this time alone with Godde…

Very much as in the case of the Camino, I took the decision to go for reasons then different from what they are today. At first, I wanted to experience kenosis (a self-emptying of my own will); then to understand the Exercises from within so that I would be able to invite others to experience them in their turn.

But a fervor has come into my soul, as if I had fallen in love with Godde in a way never felt before. A sort of call to join Her for a while and let Her guide me to a place I cannot imagine just yet.

A month with Godde, with prayers for several hours a day, a daily Eucharist, a brief encounter with a spiritual guide, all this while looking at the mountain of Montserrat, and possibly once in a while walking the streets and praying in churches and chapels where Ignatius prayed centuries before.

Some time in the past twenty years I once prayed to Ignatius, asking him to help me understand his spirituality. It’s only last year as I was praying in the Chapel of the Rapture in Manresa that I realized how much more I had received than I had asked for.

Now, as I prepare to return to Manresa for an immersion of another kind, I see that the blessings are still being showered upon my head.

I have this strange feeling that the whole of me is going, that is, all those various moments of my life when I did feel the presence of Godde, or her absence. I also marvel that I am called so late in my life to turn my heart, soul, and spirit toward Godde to come as close to Her as is possible on this side of life (and death).

I call it an Inner Camino because I expect good times and dry times and lonely times and ecstatic times. As I walked toward Santiago, I so often felt that I was walking by Jesus’ side. So many times we talked of all sorts of things. This time, I will walk with him to get to know him better, to follow him and love him so much more.

Ignatius is called a mystagogue because he initiates us in Sacred Mysteries. He started nearly five hundred years ago in Manresa. He called his time there his ‘primitive Church’. He started giving his Exercises to women who felt drawn to him. Women still come to him to meet Godde face to face. I will soon be one of them.

Thank you, Ignatius. Thank you, Godde.

Art: Ignatius of Loyola, Montserrat Gudiol, 1991, Manresa. Links:

When we face a serious choice, we will try not to have made our minds up before we have to. We will be alert to having deep-seated prejudices and to making implied or even overt demands on God that the Lord crown our own self-originated choice with grace and happiness. On the contrary we set ourselves to live this way: We will wait when alternatives are emerging. We will try not to favor one over the others until we are clear whether God is telling us something.

Joseph Tetlow, SJ, Choosing Christ in the World

An Ignatian Book of Days, Jim Manney, 279

Last week, I received two books from Loyola Press, the one mentioned above and Charged with Grandeur, also by Jim Manney. I started reading them and am finding them both to be great Ignatian resources. I know they will be valuable companions on my journey.

The quote given here is the entry for September 28, about the time I received this book. It brings up the topic of discernment, which often befuddles my brain, because I tend to make decisions based on instinct rather than reflection.

Discernment, however, is the reason why, twenty years ago I signed for three weekends of Ignatian Discernment at the Cenacle in Geneva, Switzerland. I was putting the cart before the horse, wanting to find out about discernment without knowing first about Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. But I was driven to those weekends out of fear toward a looming possible future which I really did not want.

I wanted to find out about discernment to know how to look at a situation, see all its angles, and hopefully understand and reign in my fears (and, undoubtedly, avoid the final outcome).

A Jesuit father and a woman collaborator led us through three weekends of discernment, taking us through the main points and steps that Ignatius had discovered and elaborated upon.

One very important point came out during a question and answer session: Godde wants us to be happy and would not expect us to elect a path that would make us feel miserable. Huge sigh of relief here. The discovery that Godde wants my happiness was an incredible revelation. It had never crossed my mind until then. This became a landmark in my journey of faith and it changed my relationship with Godde. From then on, I could trust Her. This was, and still is, truly a very big deal.

A second point has remained with me: to pray and weigh in my heart the ins and outs of a decision, to choose being the good and the better, and in the end lifting the final decision up to Godde. This has helped me over the years letting go of something I think I truly want to happen or to do. “I would like to be able to do this. If it is not possible, O Godde, give me the grace to accept whatever comes.”

I may sound like I now know how to discern. I am not sure. I do not feel this way. I certainly lift my desires, wishes, hopes up to Godde. Do I truly wait for an answer or don’t I rather take my hunch for Her will?… As I look back over my life, I see that I was led to the good things that I have done. As to the sins I have committed and still fall into: “What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate.” (Rom 7:16).

Anyway, all these thoughts and memories because I have just received An Ignatian Book of Days

Art: Andy Warhol, The Scream (after Munch)


“When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you…” Mt 6:5-6

We hope we do good things because they come from the heart. The heart is my secret place out of which I act. This is where that Godde sees me. How does this make me feel? Pray As You Go, 18 June 2014

I like to receive my favorite blogs’ latest posts in my inbox. One such blog is Andy Otto’s God In All Things. These past weeks he has been presenting “Desires of the Heart, a 10-week series on Ignatian spirituality and prayer”. In Week 5, he introduced the Colloquy, and he gave the link to the website Pray As You Go (see the link above), “produced by Jesuit Media Initiatives, with material written by a number of Jesuits, both in Britain and further afield.”

I had heard of PAYG before but never had taken the time to check it. The Monday I received Andy’s post, I clicked on the link; I listened and I got hooked. Most days now, I take the time to listen to what has been prepared for the day. The moments of ‘colloquy’, that intimate chat between Godde and the one who prays, which every day are part of the podcast, usually turn out for me to be a very special time with Godde. It’s not very long, but often very intense.

This was the case yesterday. To be honest, the Gospel passage did not stir much in me when my husband and I read it and prayed it with our first coffee that morning. I am quite familiar with it and no great insight came to me then. Later in the day, I went to my room, sat in my chair facing the window, put on my earphones and started to listen to the podcast. The hymn chosen, Here I Am Lord (I come to do your will, Here I am Lord, In your presence I am still), was beautiful and quite moving. After the Gospel passage, a man’s voice started reading the reflection given above. What he said hit me straight in the heart and brought tears to my eyes. 

Of course, Godde sees my heart. Within an instant, I realized that I had no fear to have of Godde’s judgment, because somehow I know that I have an honest heart. My heart says the whole truth about who I truly am. Thus, for one brief moment, thanks to my heart, I experienced Godde’s unconditional love and acceptance of who I am.

Yesterday, and since then, I have been able to connect with a part of myself which somehow had been unknown to me. A soft, gentle, and vulnerable part. I am not quite sure yet how I can line up the rest of my being on it, and I expect to work on this in the weeks to come. Still, what a treat.

So, if you are not reading Andy Otto’s blog yet and if you have never listened to Pray As You Go, you may wish to click on the links and see for yourself.


Art: Découpages traditionnels du Pays-d’enHaut, Chateau d’Oex, Switzerland



… The problem is really the problem of the self that I am busy protecting. All my fears come from concern about the self; all my thrills come from catering to the self. How can I become “unselfed” from the self so that I can attain total freedom?

… As long as [the self] is the focus of attention, we will get nowhere. What we need is the state of thoughtlessness, the state of illumination, or the state of love where we melt into another.

… How do we measure our progress in the spiritual life? The more we get out of our self-love, self-will, and self-interest, the more we progress. Unself the self. “For everyone must keep in mind that in all that concerns the spiritual life his [or her] progress will be in proportion to his surrender of self-love and of his own will and interests” (Sp. Ex. 189)

… [A]s long as I have my self-love, self-will, and self-interest, can I do the will of Christ? The love, the will, and the interests of Christ might be different from mine.

… What Ignatius is trying to bring about is rather the following. If I could mystically identify with Christ, then there are no longer two different interests, there is only one… “[It] is no longer I who live but it is Christ who lives in me” (see Gal. 2:20). That is what can happen on the experiential, mystical, and emotional levels. So there are no longer two interests, just one. Then we have unselfed the self.

Anthony de Mello, Seek God Everywhere, pp. 139-143

Last Spring, after six weeks in Manresa with the Ignatian Immersion Course, I came home with the concept of kenosis, which I tried to develop in a blog on this theme. In a way, if Jesus emptied himself of his divinity to become human (Phil. 2:7-8), we are invited to empty ourselves of our humanness to let the divine in…

I am reading Anthony de Mello’s book with the greatest interest because I am preparing for a thirty-day retreat in the Fall. I want to be ready for what is awaiting me and enter the mystagogy of the Spiritual Exercises.

Anthony de Mello, with his experiences of Eastern and Western spirituality, has a way of using one to explain the other. As I looked for an illustration for this post, I remembered a small Jain statue which represented just the outline of someone which was filled with space. He or she had reached enlightenment and was totally liberated from his or her self.

The idea of unselfing the self amuses me tremendously because I am so very self-involved, and have been for as long as I can remember. In the course of my life, however, every so often when I think, “How does this make me feel?” or “What do I want to do with this?”, the question, “Who is the “me” or the “I” I am talking about?” comes up. It never failed to give me a feeling of lightness and detachment. I can suddenly place a distance between a situation and myself.

Does this mean that I will ever unself my self, that I will indeed become one with Jesus or Godde’s will for me? I do not know. What I know, however, is that I would like to reach this point and had been dreaming of it long before I became a “returning Catholic”. It seemed to be the most beautiful path there is; and I still feel this way today. Hence, my fascination with this section of Anthony de Mello’s book.


Art: Sukhi Barber, The Presence of Absence.

[The Jains have an unusual concept in their art of the Siddha Pratima – the realized soul who is represented by a void. For more information on this, see here.]


… There is a little phrase from Thomas Merton (1915-1968) that I find very beautiful: “The world of men [and women] has forgotten the joys of silence, the peace of solitude, which is necessary to some extent, for the fullness of human living.” A few lines later Merton adds: “Man [sigh] cannot be happy for long unless he is in contact with the springs of spiritual life which are hidden in the depths of his own soul. If man is exiled constantly from his own home, locked out of his spiritual solitude, he ceases to be a true person.”

There is only one way for people to confront themselves and that is through silence. All of us need to develop a tolerance for silence, a home to ourselves, a place to touch the wellsprings of life inside us. There is nothing as valuable as silence. All of us must go back and be in touch with our inner resources.

There is one passage that I like very much in the Camaldolese Constitutions that reads: “We are frequently cast out from our hearts as the sea casts out a dead body.” This is very vivid and well described. We go into our hearts and are pushed out. We cannot take it. We cannot stay. We cannot be still. Yet as these Constitutions state, “[T]o the quiet and persevering hermit the silence of the cell brings a blessed sweetness and a refreshing sweetness that tastes of paradise.” This can be glorious literature for people who want to escape; even so, it is difficult to deny the truth of it.

Thomas Merton quotes a Syrian monk, in his book Contemplative Prayer: “If you love truth, be a lover of silence. Silence like the sunlight will illuminate you in God and will deliver you from the phantoms of ignorance… In the beginning we have to force ourselves to be silent. But then there is born something that draws us to silence… If only you practice this, untold light will dawn on you in consequence… after a while a certain sweetness is born in the heart of this exercise and the body is drawn almost by force to remain in silence.” All the mystics say that once you get acclimated to silence, there is a great sweetness in it.

Anthony de Mello, Seek God Everywhere, pp 1-2

I have often felt drawn to silence, as a place of refuge really. Still, until now, I have remained an unreliable friend. Until recently. During a retreat our small community gave, the need for silence became obvious to me: silence within myself, silence between and around us. A silence to enfold all of us for the length of our weekend.

I know the sound and feel of silence because I live part of the year in an old house, filled with silence, a silence so present you can touch it, a sort of holy bubble.

My new beginnings in silence have shown me that I need to step away from my favorite addiction: Internet. At the end of the day, when I review it, I recognize where I find the taste of honey, that taste which comes from feeling good about myself. “Real books” do that; a series of skimmed articles online don’t.

My times of silent prayer are humbling moments as Richard Rohr says so well in Finding God in the Depths of Silence (you may also want to listen to a lecture he gave last year on the same topic). But then, I seem to feel humbled quite often these days, finding myself never quite as wise or knowledgeable as I would like to think I am.

Silence is my latest adventure, my new Camino, as I am forever longing to join the One who calls each one of us. Silence is also like a beautiful pool of turquoise water with a diamond waiting to be found at the bottom…

Art: Zen photography of Thomas Merton


As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. — Jn 15:9-11

What a journey this life is.  It reminds me of kindergarten, that we need to hold hands.  Perhaps in the end, that is what is left. — My friend Joni.


Joni was writing about someone we both like. She was also referring to ourselves. How kindness is all there is at times when the future seems to be gone and we are left with an unbearable now: kindness, — and presence. Often, I would like to be recognized for a talent of which I feel proud, when in fact it is for my presence that I will be remembered. “Do you remember when she…”

Each one of us is both a temple of Godde and that unique face Godde takes on through who we are, — a voice, a touch, a particular warmth. I certainly cannot bring joy to someone who has decided to feel miserable. I rather like to think that every so often, unnoticed to me, I come across someone I know, or a complete stranger,  and do or say something which will carry some hope for the one who hears it or sees it. I like not to be aware of it, because then I am an open channel for Godde’s joy, hope, and love.

Of course, it is lovely when, doing the review of the day, I can thank Godde for the comfort I was able to bring or which I received. Where did Godde find me today? is the question which I like to ask myself. The goal, of course, is to close my day realizing that Godde came to me every moment of the day, from the time I wake up to the instant I fall asleep. Even during the night, Godde is still there by my side, as a mother stays by her child’s crib…

Yes, we need to hold hands, in the course of daily life, through social media when a friend suddenly goes through a freak accident, or when I hear that someone I know just had a stroke. For all the negative fuss made over the impact of communications on our daily life, it also allows us to be in touch with and aware of the needs of many more people than we could just a few decades ago.

That your joy may be in me and that my joy may be complete…

Yes, I hear you, Jesus. And your joy so often comes to me through your many faces of those who are part of my life, close or afar. For this, I thank you.


Photo: Children crossing a street in Santiago de Compostela, 2006





Sometimes genuine discernment is wrongly seen as a mental decision about what is good followed by an act of will to carry out that good. I would say, rather, that discernment is the awareness of centered or not-centered energy in the organism… This awareness comes from an accumulated awareness of who we fully and genuinely are. It is knowing where our center — and hence our life — resides, as well as where it does not… As life builds up more and more sense of our total selves, more and more inclusion of body, mind and emotion in our self-experience, it becomes less and less possible for us to choose against ourselves… Discernment well made — that is, experience well known — makes choice natural, even easy. Choice is that decision either to retain boundaries of judgment manifested by blocked body energies or to risk letting in everything we are… In doing so we abandon predictions of how life will turn out, judgments of what is good or bad, assessment of what does or doesn’t fit. We simply live from our center.

Benedictine Suzanne Zuercher, quoted in An Ignatian Spirituality Reader (154)


I came across this quote a couple of days back in the book mentioned above. I saw this book in the hands of several participants in the Ignatian Immersion Course last year and started reading it.

The Ignatian Immersion Course is very much like a Camino or a Cursillo: it begins once it is over. I seem to be living an on-going immersion in Ignatian Spirituality, thirsting and hungering for more. I find it a beautiful place to be and feel infinitely grateful for what I received then and have kept receiving ever since.


Photo: Camino de Santiago, Cruz de Ferro, May 2005


Then Jesus said,
“I came into this world for judgment,
so that those who do not see might see,
and those who do see might become blind.”

Jn 9:1-41


The Goal of our life is to live with God forever.
God, who loves us, gave us life.
Our own response of love allows God’s life
to flow into us without limit.
David Fleming, SJ, Principle & Foundation


… This unfolding towards my fullness in God, takes place in, 

and through, the very realities that touch my life…

I can open myself to let this unfolding take place, and I can also block it.
… Every time I block life in me to unfold, 

I am blocking my movement towards God. 

(e.g. every time I give in to my fear I am blocking my movement to God).

Fr. Cecil Azzopardi, SJ, Retreat Notes, 2013


In this Sunday’s gospel John tells us the story of the blind man who saw and of all those around him who did not want to see. It brought back to my mind a recent moment of understanding.

In his Principle and Foundation, St Ignatius tells us that we come from Godde, belong to Godde, and are destined to Godde. All the while, there is a catch, however. I can choose to say yes or to say no to Godde in my life. If I say yes, David Fleming explains, I allow Godde’s life to flow into me without limit.

Why would I want to stop that flow into me? Well, through desires that do not fit with Godde’s desires for me. Any treasure which does not happen to be Godde may come in the way, whether my wish for power, money, or status. Or these unfreedoms which are scattered through my life: resentments, grudges, fears…

After having prayed David Fleming’s Principle & Foundation, I have come to want this unlimited flow of Godde into my life. I also realized that loving Godde is good (I assume), but allowing Godde to love me is much better. How do I let Godde love me? How do I open myself to Her love?

It is when I reread Cecil’s notes last week that an insight dawned on me: any time I act out of fear, i.e. any time I close myself to situations so that I will not be hurt again, or when I just do not quite forgive what happened in the past, I close myself to Godde’s life flow into me. And I have done this for most of my life.

Interestingly, fear which I saw as a way of protecting me has in fact prevented me to be open to life’s flow. What a pity.

I must have been four or five when I learned the Our Father, forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us… Forgiveness has been an on-going struggle because I felt asked to be ‘nice’ to folks that had not been so with me. The minute, however, and this quite recently, that I understood that by not forgiving I was preventing Godde’s life to flow through me in an unlimited manner, any hesitation to forgive or desire to protect myself from pain was swept away.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

I saw. Godde’s grace helped me see what is obvious to me now. I laughed it suddenly looked so easy. If I want to experience Godde’s life and love, and I do, I have to let go of all that I have placed in my own life that prevents Godde from flowing through me.

I am not saying that I have found how to allow Godde to love me. I still instinctively want to love Godde, because I feel love for Godde. But I may well want to love Godde because then I feel in control of the times we meet. Or so I think. I do not invite Godde in my room at 5 pm for tea. I go in my room and make myself available for Godde, just in case…

This is a small step on my journey to Godde; but this small step brought quite a bit of joy and lightness in my life when I took it.


Art: Blind Spot, found here.