Winter Morning Poem
Ogden Nash
Winter is the king of showmen
Turning tree stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over lakes
Smooth and clean and frosty white
The world looks good enough to bite
That's the season to be young
Catching snowflakes on your tongue
Snow is snowy when it's snowing
I'm sorry it's slushy when it's going
I search and searched to find this poem today. The children I taught loved it. We used to learn it off my heart and do all the actions. It has such lovely images doesn't it? I love the line: 'The world looks good enough to bite.'
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Saturday, 9 January 2010
Snow yet again!
I last ventured out on Tuesday 5th Janurary after listening to the weather forecaster warning that snow was on it's way. Thank goodness I went to Sainsbury's and purchased fresh fruit and vegetables etc.
Since I broke my arm and finger last year I realise how brittle my bones are now so I wont chance walking on ice. After taking Tamoxafin for five years as part of my cancer treatment my calcium levels have been depleted....but hey I'm alive and ordinarily ready to venture forth and take part in all kinds of activity.
As I live on the brow of a hill, that has now become a ski slope for the local youths, it is too risky to go out. Besides, very few others are doing so. Our postman has not been around although the Pizza leaflets have been delivered! However, I don't see how we could actually get these as only 2 or 3 four wheeled vehicles have so far managed to go over the hill....
Being house/snow bound has enticed me into tuning up my guitar and singing very loudly once my neighbours are out. The couple on the right on me work at Heathrow and have decided to go to parents who live in Staines in order to get to the airport each day. The couple who live to my left have had to carry their three year old down to the bottom of the hill where they parked their car each night. Maybe they have also decided to go to relatives until this snowy season has gone. No noise filtering through my very thin walls so far today.
Since I broke my arm and finger last year I realise how brittle my bones are now so I wont chance walking on ice. After taking Tamoxafin for five years as part of my cancer treatment my calcium levels have been depleted....but hey I'm alive and ordinarily ready to venture forth and take part in all kinds of activity.
As I live on the brow of a hill, that has now become a ski slope for the local youths, it is too risky to go out. Besides, very few others are doing so. Our postman has not been around although the Pizza leaflets have been delivered! However, I don't see how we could actually get these as only 2 or 3 four wheeled vehicles have so far managed to go over the hill....
Being house/snow bound has enticed me into tuning up my guitar and singing very loudly once my neighbours are out. The couple on the right on me work at Heathrow and have decided to go to parents who live in Staines in order to get to the airport each day. The couple who live to my left have had to carry their three year old down to the bottom of the hill where they parked their car each night. Maybe they have also decided to go to relatives until this snowy season has gone. No noise filtering through my very thin walls so far today.
Friday, 8 January 2010
Dear Editor
When I submitted my article in response to 'For Heaven's Sake in 2009 Winter edition of 'The Author' the editor advised me that all the articles in this magazine are commisioned so I reduced my response to the following letter:
Dear Editor,
I was surprised that Michael Arditti’s ‘For Heaven’s Sake’ made no reference at all to Dante Alighieri.
Although Dante hails from way back in the 13th century (1265-1322), how can any discussion on heaven omit to acknowledge Parisdiso in the final part of the Divine Comedy? Major Scholars have conducted life-long research into his masterful works of this philosopher, Sommo Poeta (supreme poet) and father of the Italian language. In Dante's vision of heaven he is guided by ideal woman, Beatrice and Paradise is depicted as concentric spheres surrounding the earth, consisting of the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn the fixed Stars, the Primum Mobile and the Empyrean.
You may wonder if there are further reason why I am so disappointed that Michael Arditti omitted mentioning Dante in his article ‘For Heaven’s sake.
Well yes….. my surname is Dante and…because for the 33 years I spent as a nun, Heaven was my goal! I was motivated to put up with any sacrifice, problem or difficulty here on earth so that I would be rewarded eternally and blissfully happy in paradise. Moreover, as a Salesian nun I was a paid up member of what most have been the greatest insurance policy around! The founder of our Order promised us and we firmly believed that if we persevered in our vocation not only would our place in Heaven be assured but that of our relatives to the third generation.
Marion Dante author of ‘Dropping The Habit’ ISBN:978-184223-297-2
Dear Editor,
I was surprised that Michael Arditti’s ‘For Heaven’s Sake’ made no reference at all to Dante Alighieri.
Although Dante hails from way back in the 13th century (1265-1322), how can any discussion on heaven omit to acknowledge Parisdiso in the final part of the Divine Comedy? Major Scholars have conducted life-long research into his masterful works of this philosopher, Sommo Poeta (supreme poet) and father of the Italian language. In Dante's vision of heaven he is guided by ideal woman, Beatrice and Paradise is depicted as concentric spheres surrounding the earth, consisting of the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn the fixed Stars, the Primum Mobile and the Empyrean.
You may wonder if there are further reason why I am so disappointed that Michael Arditti omitted mentioning Dante in his article ‘For Heaven’s sake.
Well yes….. my surname is Dante and…because for the 33 years I spent as a nun, Heaven was my goal! I was motivated to put up with any sacrifice, problem or difficulty here on earth so that I would be rewarded eternally and blissfully happy in paradise. Moreover, as a Salesian nun I was a paid up member of what most have been the greatest insurance policy around! The founder of our Order promised us and we firmly believed that if we persevered in our vocation not only would our place in Heaven be assured but that of our relatives to the third generation.
Marion Dante author of ‘Dropping The Habit’ ISBN:978-184223-297-2
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Paradiso 06/01/10
‘Dante in Paradiso’ in response to ‘For Heaven’s Sake’ Article in The Author Winter 2009 Magazine
“And what’s your name?” “Did you say Dante?” “Well now…imagine that…what a grand name you have! I don’t suppose you know much about the great man himself? What age are you?”
It was on the steps of The Father’s – The Remdemptorist Church off O’Connell Street, Limerick that I detected that my name is important. I must have been seven years old at the time. But because in the many intervening years I have come to realise the influence that great man has had world wide, I was surprised that Michael Arditti’s ‘For Heaven’s Sake’ made no reference at all of Dante Alighieri.
Ok. Dante hails from way back in the 13th century but still there are so many internet sites, dissertations, biographies along with hundreds of editions of Divina Commedia. Major Scholars have conducted life-long research into his masterful works. He is, after all, the Italian Shakespeare and, even for the likes of ordinary folk like me, cannot help ourselves being enticed into probing and pondering extracts from his writing.
It was the title of Arditti’s article ‘For heaven’s Sake’, that got the better of my curiosity. Sure, having spent 33 years of my life as a nun it was heaven that I was living for! I was motivated to put up with any sacrifice, problem or difficulty that might confront me here on earth so that I would merit heavenly reward. I was trained to forgo many a pleasure precisely so that I would be eternally and blissfully happy in paradise. Moreover, as a Salesian nun I was a paid up member of what most have been the greatest insurance policy around! St John Bosco promised us and we firmly believed that if we persevered in our vocation not only would our place in Heaven be assured but that of our relatives to the third generation.
So why did I leave the convent?
I discovered that no matter how much I disciplined myself I just couldn’t become perfect!
Obeying the Rules, Praying, doing penance, practising self denial and constantly striving to imitate Christ and emulate the Saints. Meditation, mortification, humiliation, chastity, poverty, obedience and charitable works, conscientious and dutiful preparation for lessons, washing and cleaning that part of the convent that I was responsible for resulted in exhaustion and led to disillusion.
"Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita…. Like the great poet Dante, halfway along life's path I suffered a nervous breakdown
As the nuts and bolts on the scaffolding of Religious Life loosened I became mightily scared. I questioned the truth of the catechism answer to
Who made you? God made me.
Why did God make you? God made me to know, love and serve Him in this life so as to be happy forever in Heaven.”
I was teaching young vulnerable children at the time when these doubts surfaced. I, who was becoming conscious that I had been steeped in Catholicity and institutionalised in convent life, was in the process of indoctrinating another generation of youth in the same belief system. I could not do this.
The Second Vatican Council (1962 -65) had rocked the Catholic Church and in 1981 our smiley Pope John XX111 said “I want to throw open the windows of the Church so that we can see out and people can see in.” And so he did and more than the cobwebs were blown away. Rules and regulations were changed. The Latin Mass was translated into the vernacular, the Divine Office was also prayed in English and we sang Church of England and folk hymns sometimes accompanied on guitars because they were not suited to the backing of a harmonium. We no longer obliged to eat fish on Fridays and the Lenten fast was relaxed.
Orders of nuns trimmed down their habits. Ours changed from black to grey, became shorter and we were permitted to show our hair, wear flesh coloured stockings, ‘slip-on’ shoes or even sandals. Those of us who were teaching could pray at times suited to our work instead of having to rush home to be with the community and so the timetable was not as strictly adhered to. Superiors had been advised to return to the charisma of the Founder so because St John Bosco had set up our Order to care for the working class we sold our bigger convents to move into ordinary houses in poorer areas.
Paradoxically, it was precisely when life as a nun was becoming easier that my life fell apart. Iron girders and concrete gave way to glass and steel and cotton and wool to nylon, plastic and polyester. Privacy was abandoned in place of intimacy and openness. We had open house and local accountability. We were led to believe that these changes were the result of consultation and came from grass roots while we had endless meetings discerning the appropriate vocabulary translating the Italian version on the Constitutions, sent from Rome, into English.
I became so confused and ill that one evening as I walked home from school I wanted to step off the kerb and let the London bus run over me. Maybe it was because Mother Provincial recognised my plight that I am alive today. “Marion, I want you to experience some of the contentment I have in my vocation and I am prepared to do anything it takes to restore you to health” was what she said. True to her promise she sent me on two courses in Dublin followed by eighteen months of psychotherapy in a community based, residential centre outside Birmingham. However, initially, because of the reaction of my mother when she suffered a nervous breakdown after the birth of my brother, I was reluctant to go because I equated my mental confusion with madness and a descent into Hell.
Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here. (Translated by H.F.Cary).
Dante Alighieri wrote this allegorical epic poem between 1306 and 1321. Virgil is the guide who takes the reader through the author's examination of the afterlife. It travels through the Inferno (Hell), the Purgatorio (Purgatory), and the Paradiso (Heaven).
It did not take me long though to appreciate and benefit from this wonderful treatment. In a safe environment and under professional guidance I relaxed, regressed, and became privy to the processes most folk experience as they struggle to cope with what life throws at us. It was there that I came to suspect that I was my mother’s sin offering to God and having placed me in a convent aged fourteen I was too young to have been able to make an informed decision. In analyses other revelations empowered me to consider leaving the convent
1991 aged 47 after 33years of being a nun with the grand sum of £4000 and without the support of my family I started out on a new life. Is it any wonder that in April 1005 I was diagnosed with breast cancer? But Cancer also came to my rescue! Yes, had I not been diagnosed with cancer I probably would not have written my autobiography ‘Dropping The Habit’ published by Poolbeg in 2007.ISBN:978-184223-297-2
That is why I disagree with Arditti when he says, “Nowhere else do such disparate classes and racial and social groups stand (and sit and kneel)” as in a church. What about in hospital? Illness is a great leveller. So many folk get cancer and even if they have the means to pay for private treatment they end up seeing the same oncologists and being on the same medication.
Or maybe, as Mark Tully considered in conversation with his friend Jonathan Stedall on the BBC radio 4 Sunday 3rd January ‘Something Understood’, that heaven is to be found on earth. The programme was in fact entitled ‘Earth is crammed with heaven’ and was introduced with:
The Platters singing:
Lyrics to Heaven On Earth :
Heaven on earth, that's what you've made for me since the day we met
Heaven on earth, it's all been so thrilling, I never can forget, uh-oh
Heaven on earth, alone with an angel, is living in dreams come true
Heaven on earth, I know that it happens only when I'm with you
Paradise seemed so far
Like a star, it twinkled high above me
Now I'm wise:
Paradise isn't far at all when you're around to love me, uh-oh, love me
Oh, heaven on earth, no need in waiting, waiting until I die
Heaven on earth, that's what you've made, a heaven for you and I
A heaven for you and I
(For you and I)
Whether there is a heaven far away or This is it! This is all there is nobody seems to know but as we search on I find comfort in Gerard Manley Hopkins:
THE world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
Marion Dante 05/01/10
“And what’s your name?” “Did you say Dante?” “Well now…imagine that…what a grand name you have! I don’t suppose you know much about the great man himself? What age are you?”
It was on the steps of The Father’s – The Remdemptorist Church off O’Connell Street, Limerick that I detected that my name is important. I must have been seven years old at the time. But because in the many intervening years I have come to realise the influence that great man has had world wide, I was surprised that Michael Arditti’s ‘For Heaven’s Sake’ made no reference at all of Dante Alighieri.
Ok. Dante hails from way back in the 13th century but still there are so many internet sites, dissertations, biographies along with hundreds of editions of Divina Commedia. Major Scholars have conducted life-long research into his masterful works. He is, after all, the Italian Shakespeare and, even for the likes of ordinary folk like me, cannot help ourselves being enticed into probing and pondering extracts from his writing.
It was the title of Arditti’s article ‘For heaven’s Sake’, that got the better of my curiosity. Sure, having spent 33 years of my life as a nun it was heaven that I was living for! I was motivated to put up with any sacrifice, problem or difficulty that might confront me here on earth so that I would merit heavenly reward. I was trained to forgo many a pleasure precisely so that I would be eternally and blissfully happy in paradise. Moreover, as a Salesian nun I was a paid up member of what most have been the greatest insurance policy around! St John Bosco promised us and we firmly believed that if we persevered in our vocation not only would our place in Heaven be assured but that of our relatives to the third generation.
So why did I leave the convent?
I discovered that no matter how much I disciplined myself I just couldn’t become perfect!
Obeying the Rules, Praying, doing penance, practising self denial and constantly striving to imitate Christ and emulate the Saints. Meditation, mortification, humiliation, chastity, poverty, obedience and charitable works, conscientious and dutiful preparation for lessons, washing and cleaning that part of the convent that I was responsible for resulted in exhaustion and led to disillusion.
"Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita…. Like the great poet Dante, halfway along life's path I suffered a nervous breakdown
As the nuts and bolts on the scaffolding of Religious Life loosened I became mightily scared. I questioned the truth of the catechism answer to
Who made you? God made me.
Why did God make you? God made me to know, love and serve Him in this life so as to be happy forever in Heaven.”
I was teaching young vulnerable children at the time when these doubts surfaced. I, who was becoming conscious that I had been steeped in Catholicity and institutionalised in convent life, was in the process of indoctrinating another generation of youth in the same belief system. I could not do this.
The Second Vatican Council (1962 -65) had rocked the Catholic Church and in 1981 our smiley Pope John XX111 said “I want to throw open the windows of the Church so that we can see out and people can see in.” And so he did and more than the cobwebs were blown away. Rules and regulations were changed. The Latin Mass was translated into the vernacular, the Divine Office was also prayed in English and we sang Church of England and folk hymns sometimes accompanied on guitars because they were not suited to the backing of a harmonium. We no longer obliged to eat fish on Fridays and the Lenten fast was relaxed.
Orders of nuns trimmed down their habits. Ours changed from black to grey, became shorter and we were permitted to show our hair, wear flesh coloured stockings, ‘slip-on’ shoes or even sandals. Those of us who were teaching could pray at times suited to our work instead of having to rush home to be with the community and so the timetable was not as strictly adhered to. Superiors had been advised to return to the charisma of the Founder so because St John Bosco had set up our Order to care for the working class we sold our bigger convents to move into ordinary houses in poorer areas.
Paradoxically, it was precisely when life as a nun was becoming easier that my life fell apart. Iron girders and concrete gave way to glass and steel and cotton and wool to nylon, plastic and polyester. Privacy was abandoned in place of intimacy and openness. We had open house and local accountability. We were led to believe that these changes were the result of consultation and came from grass roots while we had endless meetings discerning the appropriate vocabulary translating the Italian version on the Constitutions, sent from Rome, into English.
I became so confused and ill that one evening as I walked home from school I wanted to step off the kerb and let the London bus run over me. Maybe it was because Mother Provincial recognised my plight that I am alive today. “Marion, I want you to experience some of the contentment I have in my vocation and I am prepared to do anything it takes to restore you to health” was what she said. True to her promise she sent me on two courses in Dublin followed by eighteen months of psychotherapy in a community based, residential centre outside Birmingham. However, initially, because of the reaction of my mother when she suffered a nervous breakdown after the birth of my brother, I was reluctant to go because I equated my mental confusion with madness and a descent into Hell.
Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here. (Translated by H.F.Cary).
Dante Alighieri wrote this allegorical epic poem between 1306 and 1321. Virgil is the guide who takes the reader through the author's examination of the afterlife. It travels through the Inferno (Hell), the Purgatorio (Purgatory), and the Paradiso (Heaven).
It did not take me long though to appreciate and benefit from this wonderful treatment. In a safe environment and under professional guidance I relaxed, regressed, and became privy to the processes most folk experience as they struggle to cope with what life throws at us. It was there that I came to suspect that I was my mother’s sin offering to God and having placed me in a convent aged fourteen I was too young to have been able to make an informed decision. In analyses other revelations empowered me to consider leaving the convent
1991 aged 47 after 33years of being a nun with the grand sum of £4000 and without the support of my family I started out on a new life. Is it any wonder that in April 1005 I was diagnosed with breast cancer? But Cancer also came to my rescue! Yes, had I not been diagnosed with cancer I probably would not have written my autobiography ‘Dropping The Habit’ published by Poolbeg in 2007.ISBN:978-184223-297-2
That is why I disagree with Arditti when he says, “Nowhere else do such disparate classes and racial and social groups stand (and sit and kneel)” as in a church. What about in hospital? Illness is a great leveller. So many folk get cancer and even if they have the means to pay for private treatment they end up seeing the same oncologists and being on the same medication.
Or maybe, as Mark Tully considered in conversation with his friend Jonathan Stedall on the BBC radio 4 Sunday 3rd January ‘Something Understood’, that heaven is to be found on earth. The programme was in fact entitled ‘Earth is crammed with heaven’ and was introduced with:
The Platters singing:
Lyrics to Heaven On Earth :
Heaven on earth, that's what you've made for me since the day we met
Heaven on earth, it's all been so thrilling, I never can forget, uh-oh
Heaven on earth, alone with an angel, is living in dreams come true
Heaven on earth, I know that it happens only when I'm with you
Paradise seemed so far
Like a star, it twinkled high above me
Now I'm wise:
Paradise isn't far at all when you're around to love me, uh-oh, love me
Oh, heaven on earth, no need in waiting, waiting until I die
Heaven on earth, that's what you've made, a heaven for you and I
A heaven for you and I
(For you and I)
Whether there is a heaven far away or This is it! This is all there is nobody seems to know but as we search on I find comfort in Gerard Manley Hopkins:
THE world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
Marion Dante 05/01/10
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