Meditation and Addiction – Cuan Mhuire, Athy
Founded by Sr Consilio in 1966, Cuan Mhuire, Athy offers a distinctive and experientially- based programme for the treatment of addictions in Ireland. It is based on the belief that each human being is of eternal value, is capable of wholeness in human and spiritual terms, and that there are no hopeless cases. It recognises the innate goodness and giftedness of all who come through it’s doors. Meditation, as taught by Fr John Main, has always been a critical aspect of the recovery programme at Cuan Mhuire which was led by Fr Pat Murray for many years. All those undertaking the recovery program participate in meditation at the start and end of each working day for 11 weeks of the 12-week program.
Rosaleen Fadden, an Oblate of WCCM and Noel Keating have recently collated a series of 110 six-minute talks, based on the writings of John Main, Laurence Freeman and others from the Christian Meditation tradition. These talks will be used before each meditation as a way of exploring the practice and its deep fruits.
The Centenary of John Main: Writing the Poem Together - WCCM Appeal 2026
A friend of Laurence Freeman’s who is a poet said to him recently ‘I have not yet written the poem that I know is hidden in the depths’. Laurence says that as he thought about all that his words imply, it struck him that each of us has a poem deep within us we must write. The work we have to be faithful to is our unique essence and meaning. Our life’s meaning is to write it, through many drafts and near misses. Yet, our lives bear fruit in more than one lifetime because the poem is written afresh from one generation to the next.
We might say that each of us carries a unique, hidden poem deep within – our life’s work, as it were, that is clarified through the faithful practice of meditation. For us – as a worldwide community of meditators – that poem is the ongoing work of contemplation, peace, and community that Fr John Main began nearly 50 years ago. Today, each of us is writing a verse of that poem.
As we honor the hundredth anniversary of John Main’s birth, we invite you to help us ensure this work continues to flourish. Can you help us write the next chapter with some financial support? Your gift will help sustain the communities, the outreach, and the future of this shared practice. Will you, please? Click the image to find out how you can do so.
WCCM has developed a new set of resources to encourage leaders of meditation groups, regional coordinators and others to teach meditation. They have designed a four-session course that can be delivered over four weeks or in four sessions over a weekend.
This four-session course expands the WCCM library of essential teaching resources. The themes for each of the four weeks takes participants on a gradual journey of understanding the practice of meditation within the Christian tradition. Participants are invited into a contemplative experience of knowing God and are invited to explore how this can give meaning and purpose to their life.
The resources include a guide for presenters and a set of four videos, each building on the previous one. They also offer a set of promotional posters which can be adapted to suit your needs. WCCM hopes this guide will support you, the presenter, in helping people to learn to meditate.
Noel Keating will lead a retreat on Christian Meditation: A Pathway to Your True-Self from Tuesday 14 July (starting at 2;15 pm) to Thursday 16 July (ending at 3:45 pm). The venue will be the at the Spiritan Retreat and Spirituality Centre in Ardbraccan, Navan, C15 XD6H.
Noel, who was National Coordinator for Christian Meditation Ireland for ten years, will use a combination of contemporary contemplative poetry and scripture readings as a way into silence and receptivity. We will discover how the contemplative journey- from the head to the heart – restores harmony between the egoic-self and the true-self, as we discover who we are in the depths of our being.
The retreat will balance teaching, meditation together, time for quiet and opportunities for sharing. While suitable for beginners, this event will enable experienced meditators to deepen their experience of the practice. It will also include an introduction to the practice of lectio divina. Email jackie@antobar.ie to book a place or call Fr Peter Conaty on 046 9078973
Forgetting Names by Laura Grace Weldon
Reflection by Noel Keating
I can’t call up the familiar name
of our vet, who walked out back
with us through heavy snow
to check our feverish cow
in this day’s quickening darkness.
My skittering memory
only shows me
his thick hair and kind gaze,
his hand gently resting
on our old dog’s head,
a blessing easily bestowed.
No name comes to my lips
although somewhere
a space in my mind
prompts the letter D.
Eyes closed,
I drift into that space
untangled
like a fish free of a net
swims gratefully into open waters.
There I remain, no thought at all
for long moments, when somewhere
behind my eyelids I see
a complicated garment
sagging at the shoulders
where it’s held
as if by invisible hands.
I know this
is the lifetime my soul wears.
Vastness like a perfect secret
stays with me
as I open my eyes,
remembering of course
we’re outfitted in ordinary guises,
going by names
as if simply human.
And I recall the name he wears.
It’s Dave.
This poem depicts a scene many of us encounter as we grow older – a skittering memory and a name on the tip of our tongue, a clear sense of who this is but the name just won’t come. For years I have found that the first letter of the name jumps out for me and makes itself known and that can be helpful; although lately it can be another dominant letter, e.g. if her name was Noelle, it is the L that stands out! Which is no help at all, merely misleading!
We all know from experience that the name will come in its own time and we have probably learned the paradoxical lesson that the best way to recall it is to let go trying to remember. Or rather, we let go the effort but hold onto the intention to recall it. A bit like sending out a search party into deep mind and leaving it to them to find the name and bring it back to the shallower depths! So our poet drifts into an open, receptive spaciousness and waits with diligent effortlessness for the word to come in its own good time: There I remain, no thought at all/ for long moments
So far, it is an amusing poem with a storyline we can all resonate with as we grow older. But it is the last few lines that really caught my attention. Because before she remembers the vet’s name, she remembers how we’re outfitted in ordinary guises,/ going by names/ as if simply human. The phrase as if changes everything. It implies that while we must play our human parts, use our names, and tend to our feverish cows in the heavy snow, it is all a divine play.
I find this very reassuring, the possibility that as we decline in cognitive capacity, however slowly, we may never forget who we are in the depths of our being. Indeed, I very much hope that that heart-awareness, that soul-awareness grows ever stronger as we age. Paying attention to who we are in the depths of our being – as we do twice every day in meditation – can only strengthen that movement of consciousness for the ego to our true centre within us where the Spirit dwells in stillness and silence.
Both the poem and our meditation practice reveal the freedom that comes when we step away from the rigid structures of language and identity. We don’t understand the paradox of intention – how is it that letting go of the effort to recall but holding on to the intention ensures that, sooner or later, we do recall the missing word. That same paradox of intention helps us to accept that something profound can be occurring within us during the silence, in deep mind, at a level of consciousness deeper than ordinary self-reflective consciousness recalling and deepening our understanding of who we are in the depths of our bring – who we are in God and who God is in us.
Weldon’s poem is a metaphor for the psychological and spiritual shifts that naturally and assuredly occur when we strive, with diligent effortlessness, to anchor our consciousness in a sacred word. In our daily lives, names, labels, and roles are the currency of navigation. They are the complicated garment we wear to interact with the world, representing the lifetime [our] soul wears. The mantra acts as a focal point that eventually exhausts the analytical mind allowing us to drift into a space/ untangled/ like a fish free of a net/ swims gratefully into open waters. The net that our practice liberates us from is that of attachment to the web of language, ego, and identity. When the chattering of the mind ceases, we get deep glimpses of pure awareness and we come to know that this is who we truly are: Vastness like a perfect secret/ stays with me/. Because our practice has enabled us to step outside of our attachment to our egoic identity, we are able to witness it and see it for the illusion – the ordinary guise – that it is. Letting go of our attachment to ego doesn’t diminish us, it illuminates our true nature.
As the poem draws to a close, the narrator remembers the name: as I open my eyes,/ … And I recall the name he wears./ It’s Dave. She utters it softly ‘It’s Dave’. . as if it is received with a sense of cosmic tenderness. Dave is no longer just the vet; he is a soul wearing the “Dave” garment, bestowing blessings easily, navigating the quickening darkness alongside her. Ultimately, “Forgetting Names” suggests that forgetting who we are by worldly standards is sometimes the only way to remember who we are as children of God. Like a mantra softly repeated until it fades into the background, the loss of a word can lead us straight to the vast spaciousness that is Reality.
