Meditation Opportunities

Thursday evenings at First Presbyterian  

We will meet for meditation on all Thursdays in July and August from 7:00 – 9:00 pm in the fellowship hall. Our format for the first hour is two 20-minute periods of sitting in silence with a 10 minute walking meditation in between.  For the second hour, we are doing a contemplative listening book reading.  We are currently reading short sections from a book by Pema Chodron, The Pocket Pema Chodron. Join us for either or both hours.                                                       

July Retreat Day

Saturday July 30, 2016

9:00 am – 1:00 pm

Fellowship Hall

Poetry Retreat

Poetry in all its beauty and truth has the potential to open our hearts to the mysteries of life and the wondrous workings of the Spirit in our lives. It can deepen our appreciation of the simple but profound truths that are found in our experience.  We can soar with the poets who fling themselves into the heart of things.  Join us this Saturday as we meditate together and recite and share poems of gratitude, prayer, longing, and the timeless search for wisdom.

Coffee, tea and refreshments will be provided.  A freewill offering will be available.

For further information call Janet Hoffman at 484-1686 or E-mail hoffmanjms@gmail.com. 

Upcoming Events

Ongoing                                Hei’s Tai Chi class at Oldemeyer

Center Tue/Thur at 10:30 am

Mondays 5:30 pm – 6:30 pm

October 22                           Silent Retreat Day         9 – 3pm

Tai Chi with Rev. Hei

In closing,

The Empty Chair

By John Brehm

Waiting for the poetry reading

to get started, I turn around

to apologize to the man

sitting diagonally behind me

for blocking his view.

I am tall. The back of my head

has absorbed a thousand

silent curses at movies, concerts,

theatrical performances, etc.

But he says it’s OK,

thanks me for my kindness.

My friend sitting next to me

offers to switch seats,

but I say no,

if I sat there I’d really block

his view – unless

my head were to become

suddenly transparent,

which I wish it would do,

the solid self, gone:

just eyes and ears to see

and hear with, otherwise

vacant space, clean, open, clear,

like a window a breeze

blows into, billowing

the white diaphanous curtains,

and there’s an empty chair

where a man once sat

reading, thinking, thinking

of nothing, offering no

obstruction, nothing to obstruct.