On doing the next thing.
A (mid) weekly blessing for all who feel like hiding.
Dear fellow traveler,
The sun is shining into our small sunroom while the heater still runs on high, making me dream of Spring. The world seems in suspension, like the frozen landscape of a Midwest winter. The sun whispers of hope, but the biting wind still holds its grip outside. The water in the sand bucket of our little one is frozen solid, splitting the bucket in half. Patches of white and gray snow mingle and merge, covering last Fall’s forgotten leaves.
It is cold outside, dear friends. The world feels frozen. And I know many of you are feeling the cold more deeply this year—not only in the air but in the spirit of the times. Like Winter’s chill has settled not just over the land but over the soul of this world. And while some see signs of Spring, others brace for a long, hard season ahead.
So I asked my husband: What shall I even write given all of this?
He said: Write about the next thing.
So dear one, what is the next thing for you?
For me, it is preparing for an important talk next week. I spent these past days in the monastery, letting the quiet settle my nerves and shape my words. Sometimes, all we can do is take the next step—the only step we can see. And trust that beyond the frozen ground, beneath all that feels lifeless, something is waiting to rise again.
We know, or at least guess, the direction we want to go. Sometimes we can even see it clearly. Sometimes it, and we, are lost in the fog. But even then grace sustains us and we can see the next step. Take it with your whole heart. And then another. Keep walking and the fog may clear, or a friend will emerge from it to hold your hand.
So tell me, dear one—what is the next thing for you? How will you take it with a pure heart? And how can we trust on grace to surround us as we do?
Here is a blessing for the road ahead:
May you find warmth in the cold,
not just from the sun that lingers on your skin
but from the quiet fire that still burns within.May you have the courage for the next step,
even if only a small one,
even if the path ahead is hidden beneath ice and uncertainty.May you be met with kindness—
from the world, from others,
but most of all, from yourself.Be assured that Winter’s grip receeds.
Spring comes with measured tread.Go gently, dear one.
With Love, Almut
PS: Do share with us in the comments about your next step. Or a line of the blessing that resonates with you.
A Thank you.
Dear kind people, I am thrilled, that 8 kindred souls have responded to my invitation last week on my 50th birthday!! to become a paid subscriber using the special discount of 50% off for the whole year. Thank you so very much, and welcome! As a paid member (for the price of a small coffee a month) you become part of our inner community, with access to our seasonal contemplations and our upcoming Winter Solitude Retreat at the end of February.
And because we decided to continue to celebrate my birthday for some more days I decided to continue the special discount for some more days also. So If you have been on the brink to become a paid member of this Cloister community and to support this labor of love, here is your chance, available until the weekend :-)
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About Almut
Almut Furchert, Dr. phil., Dipl. Psych. is a German American scholar and practitioner, a psychologist turned philosopher turned writer, traveler, photographer, retreat leader and mother of a kindergartener. She has taught and published on authors like Kierkegaard, Buber, Frankl, Yalom, Edith Stein, and Hildegard of Bingen. Almut is also a Benedictine Oblate and lives with her family in a little college town in MN.
About Cloister Notes
A letter for dancing monks and weary pilgrims in the intersection of psychology, philosophy and spirituality. Contemplations on being human to deepen your path, nourish your heart and build wisdom within.
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I really resonated with this message. At this stage in my life, many life aspects feel up in the air, and that can often feeling overwhelming. Not knowing when to start because it's all too much. This message helps this transitional phase of my life feel more manageable, and, well, exciting. Instead of everything, I can focus on the projects in front of me, and the people and places in my life. I also think this message is especially important politically -- when a president wants to keep us in a state of chaos, we must stay focused.
Thank you for this simple but profound orientation to navigate overwhelm. I hadn't also thought about the coldness of the season contributing to the agita, but that makes a lot of sense. My existential dread is beyond my usual Seasonal Affective Disorder, but the two combined are a lot.
My next thing is to guest lecture to a class of medical students today about the importance of spiritual care. Then it's meeting with a spiritual directee. And later taking my kids to basketball practice. And attempting to finish writing a post on creativity and spiritualitu.