4th June: We celebrated the twelfth anniversary of the dedication of our Chapel today. Our Morning Office liturgy reminded me of a Syrian theme: that fire from heaven consuming a sacrifice is a sign of the Lord’s approval. More important to us is that our hearts should be pure, bathed in the fire of the Lord’s presence.... (I Kings 8)

During Mass I prayed for all who had built the Chapel: the architect died shortly after his beloved wife. The chief builder has retired with acute health problems. Were their lives a sacrifice acceptable to God? Several members of our community have died since 1997 ... yet every death carries a blessing: a life faithfully lived leaves a trail of light for others, and helps to keep us united. I also prayed for all who have ever prayed with us, asked for our prayers or have been mutely at our side in so many different ways. Prayer does not need words.

The tall plants in the garden are now thriving, with gently curving fox-gloves, huge poppies, peonies of every colour - small clouds of petals - suddenly out amid monks’ hood and lupins. (The bees like them, and have to perch on the lower petals to open the door of the heart...) Our meadow is now full of vetch and clover, with bumblebees questing there with enthusiasm, the third pair of legs heavy with pollen of varied hues.

6th June: We had torrential rain last night and the garden looks lush and green again under a grey and cloudy sky. Did I tell you about the woodpecker on the chestnut tree close to the Chapel? It comes and taps away at the bark, often when we are at prayer, and a Sister had the great joy of seeing the woodpecker feeding her young. They have also been seen pecking at the ground, searching for insects.

The Feast of the Holy Trinity .... the feast of loving, creative and sustaining relationships ....into which we have been drawn.

10th June - The day is overcast and sultry. I have prepared a conference on ‘stuck places’, which seems akin to basic boredom - when it is recognised. The way to deal with this is to become aware of the present moment. Some traditions would begin with breathing exercises.... There are definitely times when one must look outwards rather than inwards SEEING what is around one in nature and grace, and leaving oneself alone! Denis McBride produced his first volume Reflections with Paintings, "Borrowing the Eyes of Others". It is wonderful - full of wonder - and perception, based on the knowledge that we can learn from anyone we encounter, whether in books, paintings or passers-by. Through them, and their reflections, we can hear the voices of those who remain silent.

It is now Corpus Christi - another celebration of Maundy Thursday, focusing on the Eucharist. Our Lord called Himself ‘the Bread of Life’, which had come down from heaven, and offers us all that we need for our spiritual and temporal life in the ‘token’ of a circular wafer of bread..... a token which is the key to life everlasting beginning here and now.

This was the first specifically Catholic Feast I celebrated on my arrival in Italy in June 1966. There were processions with the Blessed Sacrament, and the tiles of the vestibule of our convent Church were decorated with a design formed from the heads of fresh flowers ... a special carpet for the Lord.

21st June: Saturday afternoon. There is a strong, refreshing breeze in the garden. The paths of those walking in the garden occasionally crossed. I am so used to being by myself with the cats that it was almost strange seeing other human forms! How lovely it is outside, with tall and robust purple mallow plants - self seeded - and tall foxgloves and poppies. The apple trees bear green fruit. One tree has so many apples that it is aborting the smaller ones, the ones little larger than green acorns. The first strawberries have been harvested, and we had one each on the Feast of the Sacred Heart as they look like little hearts....

On Wednesday we had a conference on ‘The Heart’ - here is part of it!

"The heart - from a literal point of view - has no life of its own, although poets and lovers and philosophers claim otherwise. The stylised and romantic depiction of the heart as "heart-shaped" comes from looking at the symmetry of flower petals. The heart of flesh is neither free nor balanced, other than in its mechanical function.

The heart is often referred to in both religious and secular writings. This stems from our perception that the deepest reality lies within. Our physical heart is sheltered by the rib-cage which also protects our lungs, and thus hidden behind a protective curve of bones. These ribs can be likened to the hull of a ship or the rafters of a house.... the protected heart functions only in relationship as it is essentially both a pump for the blood flowing throughout the body, and the place where life-giving oxygenated blood is separated from the deoxygenated blood. These functions are dependent upon the lungs and rhythmic breathing......

The heart is also the seat of contradiction, even in its physiological purpose, as it receives some of the good which the body needs and some of the ill which the body wants to expel. A sound heart is essential for healthy life.

But from earliest times the heart was not seen as a working muscle but as our true being, reacting to emotions as well as to physical activity. Sometimes our heart seems to turn-over with awesome joy, or misses a beat with apprehension. Sometimes it feels cold and hard, as though tightly encased in stone or metal. And on occasions it burns within us when we hear the Word of God and recognise Him in our midst.

These simple, normal apprehensions lead humankind to think of the heart as an independent being inside us, as though our deepest reality is a tiny and true self living in the heart, with ears and eyes, and even knees to bend in adoration. From earliest times, and until the present day, it is the HEART of man to which God appeals. The Beatitudes refer to it in the words Blessed are the pure of heart for they shall see God."

"Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God."

Whatever we see with human eyes comes to us through lenses - and is initially upside down. Mirrors are mentioned in the Bible, but they were made from polished metal. (Reflections in still water - upside down - are sometimes clearer but remain mysterious.) Then I thought of the coloured glass windows in some cathedrals and churches. The images of the Lord and Creation are dull when the sun is not shining. So is our heart when it has not been cleansed and enlightened by grace.

I wondered whether this image could be used for a ‘pure heart’ which can see God? Light is shining in on it, and the heart becomes the eye of the Spirit, with all the lovely details of daily life seen in the rose window.