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If kneeling is a form of prayer, do I get extra credit for taking this sacred posture in the Atlantic on a 20 degree Fahrenheit morning?  Ha!   My 30 year-old and their partner thought it would be fun to celebrate the new year by plunging into the ocean in rural Nova Scotia. I, too, was […]

While celebrating the holidays in both the United States and Canada, I encountered several examples of “othering.” For those not familiar with this word, Merriam-Webster states that “othering” means “to treat or consider (a person or a group of people) as alien to oneself or one’s group (as because of different racial, sexual, or cultural

I haven’t had much luck as a “wanna be birder.” To prepare for my first outing, I had dug an old pair of binoculars out of our cabinet. As the other birders stared with fascination at the apparently rare species, all I could see were blobs of color. For my second trip, I upped my

Mark and I have dreamed of seeing the Northern Lights for a long, long time. We’ve tried to spot them on numerous trips to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the North Shore of Minnesota, and in various parts of Alaska and Canada with no success. Two years ago, on a warm summer night, we chased

There was a rhythm to her raking.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Then, a bigger WHOOSHas damp leaves were tossed onto plastic tarp. Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.WHOOSH. Againand againand again. As Raker surrendered to the meditative motion,a question formed:“Wise Trees, what are you teaching me this season?” In autumns past, the message was always clear:“Let go.”“Let go.”“Let go some more.” This time, Bright Sun sparkledand Joyful Wind played

Last time I biked to this Evanston coffee house, I wasn’t carrying any cash. This time, I was prepared with a couple dollars. I immediately recognized him, although I didn’t remember his name. He was wearing a faded pair of jeans and a cool t-shirt with a map of the purple line. I suspect that

As I obsessively tune into the relentless news cycle, I’m overwhelmed by all the chaos around me. Chaos within me, too. I have no idea how to respond. And yet, when I begin to feel this sense of powerlessness, I realize that I do know what to do. It may be apple picking season, but

I wake early to misty rain on dark windows, reluctantly arise, craning my neck to catch a glimpse of pink sky. Yes! I’ll venture out! I take the solitary path towards churning waters, pausing to gaze at mystical fog dangling above green prairie grasses. My feet hit sand and WOW! Purply bands of light hover

For many years, I communed with the Buddha statue in the Peace Garden. During this time, I took photo after photo of him sitting among the fall leaves, the winter snow, the spring buds, and the summer grasses. Regardless of season, he always radiated a deep sense of peace. A contagious sense of peace. Suddenly,

A 15 kilometer hike doesn’t sound like much, but the elevation, rocks, roots, and uneven steps all posed a challenge to my knees.  There just aren’t opportunities to be a mountain goat in Chicago!   By the time I stumbled to the end of the trail and made it out to the road, my right knee

As I packed for a pilgrimage to Ireland and Scotland, I was apprehensive about how the local people would welcome us Americans. Our president certainly hasn’t helped our international reputation. I decided that it couldn’t hurt to throw in my Canadian sweatshirt! I quickly learned that there was no need to worry. As a friend

There’s so much heartbreak in these devastating political times. I wanted to participate in one of the “Hands Off” demonstrations earlier this month. Instead, I was healing my own heart by taking a spring break. When we planned it, I didn’t realize that it would be a joy break. As my family stretched out in

Who am I? What does my driver’s license say: gender, eye and hair color, height and weight? (How honest is the latter?) How do I present myself? What do I wear? (This one’s easy – no one has ever called me fashionable!) What is the context in which I live? How do I spend my

The teacher said, “Feel joy as you breathe in. Feel peace as you breathe out.” Really? I’m struggling with this walking meditation in the dark Gothic chapel. I long to be outside in the light. Besides, how can I feel joy when so many are suffering? How can I feel peace when the world is

“To every thing there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3-1 A time to listen deeply and a time to raise one’s voice;A time to shop locally and a time to boycott Target;A time to share with others and a time to nourish self; A time to contemplate

As I enter this new year I want to trust in the Light the same Light that dwells deep inside every person and living being. I get distracted by all the loud and negative voices that disregard the dignity of all who are struggling in these dark and divisive times. It’s pretty easy to sense

Start small with a tiny baby an old carpenter and a wide-eyed teenager. Add a weary donkey an inquisitive cow and some wandering shepherds with their smelly sheep. Place a bright angel in the scene as a reminder that Spirit is present in the quiet and the ordinary. Wait awhile for three wise guys, who

I’ve never considered myself an evangelist, but I find myself wanting to shout from my sixth floor condominium: Try a hot sauna and a cold plunge! There’s this little truck that comes to a Chicago area beach three mornings/week. It is fully equipped with a sauna that seats up to six people. Folks can register

I feel sadfor Mother Oaklooking so thinafter shedding all those leaves.Surely she’s grievingafter so much loss. Standing tallshe winks at me,and says,“There’s freedomin letting go.” My breathing slowsand I’m in touchwith a spaciousnessinside of me. Finally, I nodand respond, “I know.I know.” Together we standand share the joy. Copyright (c) 2024, Bridget Purdome, ThePearlDivers.com. All

As I bike the Chicago lakefront path, I notice the black, gray, and white clouds swirling over the pale orange horizon. A few patches of bright blue sky are also emerging. I stop to gaze at this spectacular sight and begin to notice the swirl of post-election thoughts and emotions in me. Eventually, some questions

Yesterday morning, I was bombarded by aggressive text messages from a relative I’ll call “Jay.” Jay was boasting about the presidential election and trying to convince me that God had prevailed. I was struck by the line, “God is on my side.” I wonder, “Who is this God that is on Jay’s side?” and “Does

Depending on the season of the year and the season of my life, my evolving spiritual practices include centering prayer and other forms of meditation, gardening, swimming, biking, writing, watching sunrise and sunset, and even picking up sticks. These are all activities that I engage in with the intention of paying attention to the movement

“What are you going to do with your extra hour this weekend?” Every year, a friend and I exchange texts around this significant question. While standard time ushers in a season of dark afternoons, it also provides the sweet gift of sixty extra minutes. A whole hour to use as I wish. And to my

I know it’s October, but the lure of Lake Michigan remains strong. On Saturday, I put my swimsuit on, layered it with clothes, and loaded up my bike basket before heading to my favorite beach. The whitecaps looked rough as I passed other Chicago beaches. It was clearly not a swim day, but the autumn

Light filtering through its branches, Wise Oak is full and green even as crunchy hints of autumn litter the ground below. “I wonder, Wise Oak, how do you stand with such elegance while on the brink of so much loss?” The tips of Wise Oak sparkle and dance as the wind blows through. Wise Oak

I sat in the gray, dingy, basement classroom with two other volunteers in our matching red shirts and a group of detainees who were dressed in tan “scrubs” and Velcro sneakers. It was my turn to invite the men into the Centering Prayer practice and keep track of time.  I struck the singing bowl three

“What’s on your mind these days?” A friend asked. “Nothing really,” I initially thought. Well…there has been a lot. This spring, I participated in my first Native American drumming circle in Oklahoma and plunged into Possum Kingdom Lake in Texas. I visited my daughter in LA, facilitated a retreat in Racine, and cheered on the

May the energy of Ireland rise up within you. May you be present to early spring daffodils and the raw beauty of cliffs meeting sea. May your rain gear be accessible for constant weather changes and your shoes be sturdy as you navigate muddy terrain. May you travel narrow roads without incident and experience the

According to the Internet, the temperature for the Irish Sea near Wicklow, Ireland is 46 degrees today. It’s hard to believe that it was just a few weeks ago that I ventured into these waters. Afterward, a friend asked, “are you mentally unstable?” Another worried that I’d get pneumonia. Others simply wondered, “why?” Why? Good

On the darkest daythe candle continuesto lure metowards its orange glow. Top of jar blackened by rising smokeremaining interiorcaked in waxexcept for a small circlea window to its soul. I catch glimpsesof the dancing flameas it shows offits alivenessand I wonder:Is this flamealive in me? Happy winter solstice! Bridget Copyright (c) 2023, Bridget Purdome, ThePearlDivers.com.

As the days grow shorter, I love the return of the holiday lights. It’s only mid-November, and I’ve already participated in several early displays: ZooLights in Lincoln Park, the Great Tree in the Walnut Room, and the City of Chicago’s 110th Tree Lighting. Each was a beautiful, joy-filled outing with great companionship. These holiday light

I’m raking brown oak leaves on an early fall day watching the green yard emerge from below scattered with acorns and welcoming the open spaces. Used to working hard and staying busy,I’m tempted to yell to the old oak“Bring it on! Release more leaves!I can handle a heavier load!” The yard gently stops me inviting

I started my daily “woo” practice in anticipation of a long road trip with my 28-year-old. I knew that Ciaran was already fatigued from driving from Vancouver to Chicago, that they were feeling the stress of a big move and a new job, and that they may not appreciate my early morning enthusiasm. I was

As I say good-byeto the small, wooded condowith its speckled fawnsand golf cart traffic,moments of solitude and loud family gatheringsI’m keenly awareof my Dad’s Spiritclanging through the wind chimes. As I walk the lake pathone last timeI begin to realizewhy I’m here. This.This lapping lake.This pale blue sky.This sense of onenesswith it all.This deep knowing

Pulling weeds.Clipping dry stems.Creating space in the garden. Opening up space in me. To play.To breathe.To be. What is helping you to “be” this summer? Copyright (c) 2023, Bridget Purdome, ThePearlDivers.com. All rights reserved.

It wasn’t on our list of “don’t miss” stops along the Icefield Parkway in Banff National Park. And with a name like, “Herbert,” I didn’t have high expectations. I just needed to stretch my legs with a short walk to the lake. Now, don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against all of you

Your vision is okay for driving,” the eye doctor said. “Do you want to see more clearly?” Hmmm…do I? Do I want to see the tiny red buds on spring trees? The fine features of robins, cardinals and blackbirds? The hands on the clock of a distant church? (Is there really a clock on that

Last spring, I had a startling sense of clarity after engaging in the simple contemplative practice of picking up sticks. A year later, I returned to the site of this epiphany. What happened? I picked up sticks. Pretty anticlimactic, huh? On the surface, yes. I walked, scanned the yard, picked up sticks, carried them to

Aunt Justine was known for writing eulogies for family and friends, so I wasn’t too surprised that she wrote part of her own: Hello, my name is Justine Leonard. For most of my working career, I was a ghost writer, the voice and second banana for many of Milwaukee’s movers and shakers. To drop a

I remember my first Valentine’s Day as a newlywed; this was more than thirty years ago. I had to travel for business that week, but my return flight was the afternoon of February 14th, so my husband, Mark, who loves to cook, was planning a special fondue dinner. As I flew back to Chicago, the

I stepped out of my car, scanned the front yard and breathed. I sensed that the yard was breathing with me. When I left the retreat house last fall, the lawn was completely covered in leaves. I had tried to clear them during my stay, but the more I raked, the more the leaves came

My mom would have turned 86 today. This morning, I awoke to a 49-degree temperature, threw on several layers of clothing, and rode my bike to Lake Michigan in the dark. (Don’t worry, Mom! My bike is equipped with cool, blinking lights!) As I approached Montrose Beach, I was joined by hundreds of people. They

I remember simple moments with Mom as well as extraordinary ones. A few years ago, I accompanied her to a doctor’s appointment that was especially difficult. She was dealing with an undiagnosed UTI, and it was impacting her mentally. Uncharacteristic of sweet and gentle Mom, she was very loud in the waiting room and complained

This summer, I’ve been working on my daily qigong practice. Of course, I grumble when the alarm goes off and then slowly make my way out to the balcony. Here I may be greeted by a soft palette of colors or some stunning cloud formations. I begin my qigong movements, as I watch the changing

Why are you waiting forthe sun to setthe suffering to enda new season to emerge?Isn’t it all right hereright now?Beauty.Peace.Joy. Copyright (c) 2022, Bridget Purdome, ThePearlDivers.com. All rights reserved.

If only I were a better meditator, I’d be more disciplined about sticking to a consistent schedule. If only I were a better meditator, I wouldn’t be so easily distracted by everything going on around me and within me. If only I were a better meditator, I would seamlessly integrate the fruits of my morning

No better way to heal thanclearing away brushdigging into dark soilsometimes hitting rocksor claynestling in bulbs andblanketing with dirtknowing that they all don’thave the same chanceto survive andthriveyet still hoping for andnourishing each one.And when the grief returnshow does one respond?By planting gladiolus. In memory of two beautiful women, Marsha and Angela.   Copyright (c)

My heart sank as I spotted the flashing light behind me. This isn’t how I had imagined starting my getaway weekend to a small, lake town. I pulled over, reached into my backpack and located my wallet and license. Then, I fumbled through my glove compartment, pulled out a stack of papers, and flipped through

On an unseasonably early spring day, I engaged in a simple ritual – picking up sticks. While the retreat house lawn needed a good clean-up, it certainly didn’t need me. At the pace I was moving, autumn would arrive before the yard was clear of branches. This was more about what I was needing –

I barely knew him, and yet, every Christmas, he reminded me, “You are special.” The third of four children, all born in the span of just 6 years, it was impossible to get any individual attention except from this mysterious and thoughtful man. On Christmas day, the Milwaukee relatives would arrive laden with packages for

“This is the time to be slow. Lie low to the wall. Until the bitter winter passes.” – John O’Donohue It’s time to be slowThe old oak modelsReleasing its leavesJust one at a time. It’s time to be slowThe wet logs cryResisting all attemptsTo ignite into bonfire. It’s time to be slowThe inner voice whispersEncouraging

The Pool. I have been returning to the swimming pool of my childhood this summer as it is only a couple miles from my Mom’s nursing home. “Rec” pool has changed very little in the last 40 years. Even the old popcorn popper in the concession stand looks like it has never been replaced. As

My daughter scanned me from head to toe, as we prepared for a walk in the city. “With your cap, backpack, water bottle, and running shoes, you dress like a junior camper heading off to summer camp!” There is nothing like a fashion critique from a 22-year-old. Hey – maybe I like being a junior

The chain on my bike derailed. Ten miles from home, this could have been a crisis. No worries! I pulled my phone out of my backpack and googled, “bike shop near me.” The closest one was a short walk away. The helpful mechanic did a quick derailleur adjustment, and I was back on my way.

Bursting with buds the towering oaks patiently stand waiting for spring flowers green leaves maybe even a sense of fullness. At this moment they’re content to be right where they are. What are you waiting for this spring? How are you waiting? Copyright (c) 2021, Bridget Purdome, ThePearlDivers.com. All rights reserved.

“What’s so good about Good Friday? Isn’t it a day of death and sorrow?” I paused, as I overheard a colleague asking these questions. “What’s so good about Good Friday?” I continue to sit with this question, as I rest and reflect. First, it’s a paid holiday for me and my co-workers which is a

Yesterday, while taking some “on the cusp of spring” time in Wisconsin, I was stunned to see two men appear outside the window and begin to cut down the big, old maple tree. I had first encountered this magnificent tree more than 30 years ago, when I visited my parents in this same woodsy condo.

I swam in an indoor pool yesterday for the first time since well before the pandemic began. Nursing an injured ankle, I was looking for a way to stay active but off my feet. I entered the pool area wearing my swimsuit (which seems to have shrunk a bit), my cool Chicago flag mask and

A former colleague, a deeply spiritual Catholic priest from India, dropped off an oddly shaped package just before returning to his home country. It was surprisingly heavy; I had no idea what might be inside. I tore the wrapping off and discovered a beautiful statue. I read the note and learned that it is the