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My new book I finished writing this summer

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This summer I finished my manuscript for a new book. The working title is Pray Like Teresa; how to pray the Prayer of Recollection of St. Teresa of Avila. The publisher will decide the official title. I agonized a lot writing it but that seems to be part of my creative process unfortunately. It was also my solace during a stressful summer as it turned out to be.

When I have a project on I continually “write” in my head until it’s finished. Then it’s hard for me to stop messing with it and to stop thinking about it all the time. I enjoyed St. Teresa’s accompaniment during the months of working on this little book for her. I hope she is happy with it.

The book is short, only 15,000 words, about half the length of my first one, Come to Mary’s House; spending time with Our Blessed Mother. It is also more instructional than Come to Mary’s House. I would describe the general vibe of the book as St. Teresa with a Shawn twist. I tried to stay absolutely true to Tersa’s teachings and to work in my own Teresian spirituality and experience as well.

An important goal I had for this book was to help everyday Catholics and others to get to know Teresa’s teachings in a friendly way. I included St. Teresa’s struggles and sense of humor along with her teachings on the Prayer of Recollection and her basic foundational teachings that underpin it. I hope for the reader to see that contemplative prayer is for everyone and that this method of prayer is one anyone can do.

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I also wanted to show why contemplative prayer is desirable, not only for the growth of the person who prays but for the good of the Church and the whole world. In this way I believe deepening inner prayer and contact with God, friendship with Jesus, and the practice of a life of prayer are urgent necessities in our world today and for the renewal of the Church.

A lot of people may be intimidated by Teresa of Avila because of her profound mystical experiences, because she is the “Doctor of Prayer,” and such a great figure of Catholic spirituality. Maybe they had not thought of reading her works before because they were written about 500 years ago and they assume she is inaccessible and too Medieval to be understandable or applicable to their lives.

I hope the reader will find that St. Teresa was also very human, witty, funny, practical and grounded. Her wisdom is relevant to anyone wanting to live the spiritual life, to grow in prayer, to this day. I hope I have provided a simple way to take up this prayer that Teresa said the Lord himself taught her, to anyone who picks this book up.

I think it would be a perfect book to take to Adoration with you, enriching your prayer in that hour with Jesus, or to keep by the place you like to sit when you pray daily. One could easily read a section each day and try the part of the prayer that section suggests.

I intend to encourage everyone who reads this book to try the prayer, to stick with it, along with giving practical ideas to help them be consistent.

I arranged it as an introduction to Teresa herself, and then I played out reflectively her basic discoveries about prayer such as friendship with Jesus, his Sacred Humanity, and God being experienced as within us.

Then I wrote a section about each step of the prayer and how to do it, each one headed by a quote from Teresa or from Scripture.

I allowed myself the pleasure of writing about the effects of the prayer as well and let myself get poetic about those but not overly so I hope. I wanted to communicate the beauty and joy of intimate love of God.

I am hoping this book will appeal to the everyday Catholic who may be being called by God to cast their nets into the deep or at least the deeper or even a little bit deeper. Whether the reader takes up everything in the book as part of their daily prayer life or not I hope reading it will improve their prayer life and their relationship with the Lord at least a little. I think it will.

My parish is primarily young people in college. They are remarkably devout, however. I can imagine some of them being interested in this book. I thought of them while I was writing, but also of people my own age or so (I’m 56) who at this time of life may be more interested in contemplation and want to give it daily time. I want it to speak to anyone who looks through it.

I turned in my manuscript to Our Sunday Visitor on Assumption Day, a few days early. But I thought it was a good way to honor Our Lady and St. Teresa, whose habit (the Carmelite habit) she wore.

Look for the new book August 25th, 2025

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Decisions. I hate those things.

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I have been rather dysfunctional lately. I go to work (I still have one of my jobs) and I come home, do the minimum such as take care of my chickens cats and dogs. Then I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling. My heart hurts. I feel like I am dying. It’s grief of course, for Zane, who died suddenly and unexpectedly August 22 of this year.

At the same time I have lost my job. I took care of Zane for about four years. I also take care of Mac, another special needs young man.

So I have lost my main job, my job with Zane, which is a crisis in itself. It’s hard to make decisions when you’re grieving and it’s not the best time to do it. However, I don’t have time to do this any other way.

I really love working with special needs young people. I seem to have a knack especially with those who are nonverbal. It is a calling I believe, to do this work. It’s a work that is love. It means a lot to me.

I interviewed with a new family. It went very well and they would love me to come work for them. I liked them too. I said I would let them know in a day or two. Then I cried in the car and had to go over and hug Zane’s mom. We sat on the couch and talked for a while about Zane, about things. Her loss is so great I had to stop typing for a few seconds just now thinking of it. I feel guilty talking about my own grief but I can’t help it.

When my mom got restless or had a problem she needed to think about, she re-arranged the furniture and cleaned madly. Sometimes she pulled up carpet or made new curtains and painted the living room to match. I’m not good at sewing. I don’t have money for paint. So I stuck with re-arranging the furniture and cleaning madly.

I talked to my friend Shawna who somehow manages to give me clarity when I need it. I continued to clean madly. My dogs were a little concerned.

I thought about how I am worried about the pay for a prospective new job which is far less than I made at my last. I wondered how I would pay the mortgage now. I finally got a house and I am not giving it up. I was thinking about what to do about that.

However the main issue is grief. It’s hard for me to think of replacing Zane and trying to love someone new already. I reflect that I have never failed to love anyone I have taken care of. In the nursing home where I did my clinicals there is no way to really get to know the people you care for. You take care of their immediate physical needs and even if they’re crying or something you have ten other patients you have to get to who need to be changed or whatever. Even then I always cared for each one in a loving way as best I could. That’s just how I do it. I can do this.

I have a daughter in college. I will do whatever I can to make sure she gets as far with her education as she wants to. She is busy applying for master’s programs lately. No matter what she is going. My other daughter has been going through hell this summer. It’s pretty unimaginable the way she is holding it together. However she needs me. Sometimes she needs my help. I’m going to be here ready.

If there is anything in my life I have learned to do it’s grieve and fight for my family at the same time.

I can work out the pay part somehow but I prayed about my next person to take care of. I think this could be the one I asked for or was led to. . I think I will try it and do my best.

The dogs needn’t worry. I think I am through cleaning for now.

OK, Beloved Lord. Lead on.

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O Brother where art thou

I did not cry for nine years after you self destructed like a kamikaze in our midst. There are not even any pieces left to sort through. Where did you go and why couldn’t I stop you. We were closer than close and I should have known when you locked me out what was coming. We always said when we didn’t spend time together neither of us was right in ourselves so we should always make sure to connect no matter what was going on. You kept trying to apologize, trying to come back into our front porch days. You said “When I hurt you I hurt me and I can’t stand that I hurt your feelings. I hate that.” And I always said it was ok. I said we can work through anything just like we always have. I had faith in that. Absolute faith. How crazy did you have to be for me to not be surprised. Denial is more powerful than I ever thought. When you said “I’m scared I might be mentally ill,” I should not have reassured you that you weren’t. The last time I saw you I hugged you brother and I rubbed your little head. You looked like a small boy that day who had been sick, safe at his parents’ dinner table. Your letter to Dad said I would be OK. Well I’m not. None of us are. You must have hurt so badly to do something like that. You just needed it to stop. I thought oh he will be back like always. He just needs to think. I was so close. But I think you thought we were far away and you had no idea how to get back. You couldn’t find us. And you thought we couldn’t help. I finally cried the other night and it was about something else. It felt weird. It didn’t last long. I wish I could miss you the way I miss everyone else. But there is just a void where you used to be. Like the Mariana Trench. No one knows what’s down there, only how unfathomably deep it must be. I’ve been there. But I couldn’t understand anything.





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A ridiculous story

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I forgot something in my post about what I did this summer. It’s just a ridiculous story. My life seems to be dotted with crazy stories involving animals. Here is another one.

My eldest daughter lives out in the country. She had a neighbor she was going to get me some chickens from. I like to raise them from chicks (it’s more fun) but I was open to it. I wouldn’t have to wait until spring this way. I requested hens only, all different colors so I could tell them apart and get to know them, and I asked for only four of them.

I wasn’t ready yet though. My daughter helped us move and at the end of the day offered to go pick up those chickens. I said I hadn’t had the chance to get a coop ready for them or anything. She said they had told her it’s today or never.

I don’t think sometimes so I said OK I would figure it out. I worked on it but there is just no rushing something like that. When she pulled up in her truck I was still excited to meet them though. Maire said, “Well these look like a different kind of chicken. And there are six of them. I was’t sure what to do so I went ahead and took them.”

They sure were loud. I looked in at them. They looked like turkeys and seemed almost as big. They looked at me and started screaming at me. I said, “These aren’t chickens.”

Maire said, “What do you want me to do? I can take them but the coyotes will get them for sure.” “I guess for the moment we can put them in the garage.” So we dragged the large dog crate they were banging around in, those crazy things, into the garage.

After she left I decided to try hanging out with them for a while and see what they were all about. I was trying not to be disappointed. Chickens are funny and endearing. These things were a little scary. I noticed one of them seemed slower and more hapless than the others. She kept getting separated from them and freaking out. The others had to call to her and find her. I started to worry because by my reckoning it was probably about 120 degrees in the garage. I couldn’t leave them in there. I thought of a truckload of chickens that broke down years ago and how all the chickens got too hot and died. Hundreds of them. I couldn’t risk that. I didn’t have a coop for them but my yard was fenced. So I decided to let them out where at least they wouldn’t die of heat.

To let them into the back yard they had to come through a room that probably used to be a back porch. We call it the sun room. The birds shot into the sun room screaming their heads off. I opened the back door and most of them ran out to the yard. That slow one got stuck in the shower somehow and was hitting the walls and screaming like a banshee flapping her wings. My dog was barking and the cats went streaking from the scene. I finally managed to catch her and get her to her friends outside.

I went out with them to see what happened. My dog was going berserk at the back door. They poked around for a minute, checking out the situation and then they all flew away.

I don’t know why I was shocked. Maybe because chickens can fly but not really. I rarely have had a chicken go over the fence. Trying to roost in the trees on a low branch, yes but just… leaving?

So I was shocked. How disloyal of them!

Admittedly we didn’t really know each other.

Well what now? Should I try to catch them? That did not seem possible. And where would I put them? I didn’t have a place for them anyway.

Then I thought, “Did any of the neighbors see this?” I didn’t think so. I hoped not. They would surely not be any too happy to have me as a new neighbor if they did.

I was worried about the not-chickens. One of ,my employers has a background in poultry science. So I asked him if they would be alright. He said they were guinea hens and ill suited for “urban life.” He said they were very loud and obnoxious. I could agree with that. He said even if I caught them they would just leave again unless I caged them which sounded like a sad life. Apparently they would be fine. We even live near a creek.

I found out they will eat squirrels and other rodents or any small animals. My boss said that if I had chickens they would have attacked them and eaten them. They sounded like real charmers.

I actually was impressed with their loyalty to each other, though, and their care for the slower membr of their group. Also they mate for life which is cool.

However none of that mattered because the situation with those things was completely out of my hands.

We saw them from time to time over the next several days walking along the road or in a neighbor’s yard. Something about this cracked us up.

Just when we thought they had moved on we would hear them in the trees next door screeching. Taking the trash out one night it sounded like one of them got separated from the others and was calling out. The others answered back from across the street, like “Is that you Mabel?”

This happened again another time and the whole gang ran single file down the alleyway looking ridiculous and sounding insane, to reunite with their friend.

I had to laugh as they went by like a gaggle of old ladies on the attack. But it is cool how they take care of each other.

My youngest daughter saw them all the way over at St. Joseph’s walking along a busy road seemingly arguing with one another.

In fact I saw them today already walking through our front yard. They’re still hanging around the area. Screaming.

Sometimes people drive by those goonie birds, laughing when they see them. I guess it’s a “what the heck!?” kind of laugh.

I hope they haven’t killed too many squirrels or carried off anybody’s chihuahua.

Yes I confess I have released a terrorist avian gang into my new neighborhood.

Sorry.

If you want to hear what they sound like I found a video on YouTube.

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