Tags » Thomas Merton

Celebrate Earth Day with Thomas Merton

Trappist monk and writer Thomas Merton wrote many poems over the too-brief span of his fifty-three years, but my favorites are those dealing with nature. A few months ago, I blogged about… 735 more words


The Other Side of Prayer

Today’s post comes from Live Brave Founder and Creator, Lesley Glenn

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. 1,790 more words


Reflections on Thomas Merton’s New Seeds of Contemplation: Chapter 3, “Seeds of Contemplation”

If the elemental question, “Who am I?”, is one that resonates with you, this chapter is a gold mine. Here Merton begins to unfold the heart of, not only this particular book, but his life-long intellectual and spiritual obsession: the contrast between… 1,191 more words


Learning The Lessons Of Silence

By: Mn. Dr. Brian Jin-Deng Kenna

“Last night I dreamed I was, temporarily, back at Gethsemani. I was dressed in a Buddhist monk’s habit, but with more black and red and gold, a “Zen habit,” in color more Tibetan than Zen… I met some women in the corridor, visitors and students of Asian religion, to whom I was explaining I was a kind of Zen monk and Gelugpa together, when I woke up.” 1    (pg. 733 more words

Buddhist Practice

Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton

Thomas Merton was born in France in 1915, and during his younger years religion seemed unimportant. They moved a lot–his life was hectic, where for the most part he never seemed able to settle anywhere–they moved to New York, and then for a short time to Bermuda. 697 more words


Around the Web (Part 2)

Check out these recent articles from around the web:

Friends of Merton by Dan Horan: “Thomas Merton continues to exercise an ‘apostolate of friendship,’ bringing people together across many divides. 606 more words

Around The Web

A Stubborn and Fabricated Dream

The city itself lives on its own myth.  Instead of waking up and silently existing, the city people prefer a stubborn and fabricated dream; they do not care to be a part of the night, or to be merely of the world.  

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