Transcendence can come in many forms. For Mary Rose O’Reilley a year tending sheep seemed a way to seek a spirituality based not on “climbing out of the body” but rather on existing fully in the world, at least if she could overlook some of its earthier aspects. The Barn at the End of the World follows O’Reilley in her sometimes funny, sometimes moving quest. Though small in stature, she learns to “flip” very large sheep and help them lamb. She also visits a Buddhist monastery in France, where she studies the practice of Mahayana Buddhism, dividing her spare time between meditation and dreaming of French pastries.
This is one of those powerful, serendipitous books that I happened to pick up at precisely the right time in my life. Religion has long been a sore spot for me; as many of you know, even the most minor allusion to a positive “religious” experience (of any persuasion) has often sent me into uncontrolled bouts of ranting and frustration over patriarchy and oppression.
Over time, though, my views have grown softer and more nuanced. I still don’t believe in any version of the traditional “Christian” God (not even close), but I seem to have developed a subtle spirituality and accompanying mindset that is more open to subjective and mysterious experience.
Reflecting on this development, I can identify a clear loss of control in my life that may have rocked my foundations a bit. Enough to get me thinking about heavy things like the meaning of life; how human beings cope with tough experiences and come to know themselves; the simultaneous importance of both community and solitude; the value of a personal moral code.
These are just a few of the topics that Quaker and Buddhist author Mary O’Reilley grapples with in this book. O’Reilley’s journey is an admirable one and I was pleasantly surprised by the reasonable, non-judemental tone of the text. I won’t lie— reading the word “God” so many times in the first several pages definitely made me cringe, but I stuck it out. And it’s a good thing I did! Approximately 5 pages in I was nodding and smiling along with O’Reilley’s humorous farming anecdotes and identifying with the struggle to make sense of her (and all) life.
Long story short, I am so thankful for these words. I needed some peace in my world and this gave me just that. Peace and a new perspective.
I requested and received this book as a gift 2 years ago. I read about 40 pages and then for some reason I left it on the night stand with a bookmark in the place where I had stopped. I picked it up again shortly after Christmas when I was down with a respiratory infection and feeling sorry for myself.
I've enjoyed Mary Rose O'Reilley as an author who can nudge me out of such a place. Her book Radical Presence got me over a bad attitude about teaching. Her book of poems Half Wild saw me through the year before I retired when I was half in and half out of a professional mind. Now The Barn at the End of World has offered up pages of wisdom and load of notes about things I want to remember.
Here is a favorite line: "My religious nature is omnivorous. I can worship anything that occupies a certain slant of light." I listened differently after reading this: "We habitually ignore impulses in our lives that don't fit the cultural script." I volunteered to help a friend on a llama farm after following O'Reilley's adventures in the sheep barn--not romantically but ready to shovel shit with a purpose. Her honest report about her time at Plum Village gave me hope! Those retreats are a hell that have taught me much but more importantly she reminded me that "The universe is such an efficient school." I don't have to go to a retreat to learn. Best of all is learning the meditation hug: "Go deeply inside yourself and say: 'breathing deeply I open like a flower.' Then hug. Three times." I'm so glad I dusted this book and kept reading.
Reread this book in December 2024 during my month of re-reads and was as inspired as the first time. Added new underlining and marginal notes and highlighted things I'd underlined before. Definitely plan to read it again in a few years.
This is one of my favorite books of all time. O'Reilly writes beautiful sentences and picks subjects and objects worth contemplating. The very short chapters make it easy to simply sit with the text a piece at a time and let each moment sink deeply in. Really a must-read for those on a path of spiritual uncertainty and longing.
I am sorry that it took me so long to read this book, which has been on my spiritual memoir list for - oh, maybe five years, ever since taking Elizabeth Jarrett Andrew's class at the Loft in Minneapolis. To tell the truth, the "shepherd" in the title put me off. I taught Godly Play when I was a clergy wife, and I know the metaphor of the good shepherd, but it is tinged with so much patriarchal baggage and sentimental imagery for me that I was really reluctant to enter that world. When I did, however, I was stunned by the beauty of the language, the subtlety of the theology and spirituality, and my resonance with the author's experience. It was a bonus to discover she is a shape note singer, something I am drawn to but so far have been inconsistent about participating in. This is a formative book for me. I want to meet the author. Apparently she is still a professor at St. Kate's, but their web site is immensely unhelpful when it comes to contact information. If anyone knows anything helpful about her whereabouts, and what she is writing now, I would love to know about it.
This book. Yes. YES! I cannot rave about its value enough! O'Reilley's words helped me along a very challenging year of being pushed beyond my comfort zone. Her wisdom, humor, compassion, and occasional snarky comment reminded me that none of us are alone on our journeys.
I read this book gradually over the course of a year, letting it unfold when it needed to, not rushing, reading for the sake of reading. Our struggles for balance, the desire for a love-filled life, experience of joy within the sad or humdrum...these are situations in which I found myself feeling a bit abandoned and lost many times during a year of growth in London. O'Reilley's snippets of wisdom are meandering and thoughtful, oh so human yet divinely inspired. What a gal. :)
Side note -- Based on my personal bias, the Minnesota references helped me connect to my roots during times of homesickness as well. ;)
I loved this memoir of an academic's sabbatical in a French monastery where she learns to tend sheep. It is both sharp-witted and rich with spiritual reflection.
This is a book that I can read over and over and over again. Not to be missed - a deep well that offers something refreshingly different every time you dip into it. Not to put anyone off by this charged word, but it is a bible of sorts for me. When speaking about the Guatemalan Indians who went to Mass and then burned offerings to Mayan Gods on the steps of the church, O'Reilly says "my religious nature is omnivorous. I can worship just about anything that occupies a certain slant of light. Pray always - the old injunction goes and, it must follow, to anything." And she hardly leaves anything out - while a practicing Quaker, her faith is also based in nature - from simple walks to her year long apprenticeship as a shepard, her love of music, and also fed by her time on a Buddhist pilgrimage in France.
In saying good-bye to a man at a homeless shelter, O'Reilly describes him as an angel but not one of those "kindly, peaceful angels domesticated in recent years by pruveyors of New Age goods. ....the communication I got from him was 'Excuse me, but I'm busy keeping this whole boiling room from exploding into outer space. Thank you for your interest. We'll get back to you....' Maybe after the Rapture." Her dry wit infuses each of her essays and you bounce between laughter and peacefulness.
Mary Rose O'Reilley must be one fascinating lady!! Someone who can move easily between the world of her Catholic past, to a year spent taking care of sheep, into Plum Village Buddhist monastery with Thich N'hat Hanh, to the classroom as an English teacher, and home again to her Quaker community. Her book, which has been called a cross between Katheen Norris and James Herriot, is filled with insights about the spiritual journey -- but it's a journey that is firmly grounded in the not always neat and tidy business of living intentionally wherever you happen to be. As a matter of fact you won't find much in this book about out of body experiences, but you'll find plenty of information about what it's like to muck around in sheep pens. And that's really the whole point. She makes it clear that living a spiritual life is a simply matter of paying attention to what's going on here and now and recognizing the significance of it.
Interesting book about a woman whose life appears to be a spiritual quest. She has a love for sheep and is working on a sheep farm thru much of the book. She spends time at Plum Village with Thick N'hat Hang a place I would love to be. She is learning acceptance thruout the book something we could all learn.
Having stumbled onto a more focused following of a spiritual path several years ago, I've also found that I don't like trying to integrate it's more ritualistic and religious aspects. I keep getting attracted to books that have more "Western" observations on Buddhism, and love when they're blended with the author's own stories and experiences.... Plus, I have a sister who's a shepherd.... "The Barn..." spoke to all of this, and I was constantly bemused and surprised. It was not the story I expected, and I finished it feeling that satisfaction of having looked through the eyes of a human being who processes differently than I about topics of interest to me.... Can't tell you how regularly I laughed out loud. Found her early Catholicism, transforming into Quakerism, blended with caring for sheep meant to be served for dinner, coming up against Plum Village veganism and values, fascinating. I learned about her, and I learned about me. I'm likely to read it, perhaps skim it, again.
2.5 truly, but 3 for her familiar references: "fickle, freckled" Gerard Manley Hopkins, Diane Arbus, anamchara and elf patterning:
"One of the dicey things about teaching English or lamb haltering is that, in order to focus a student's attention, you have to hammer away at a few central principes which, to the conscientious learner, begin to have the force of law. But they are merely transitional truths, and when you see them start to harden in the learner's mind, you have to gently nudge him or her out of security and inculcate what is always the final lesson: there are, in fact, many ways to reach a goal....
For all creation is "myth woven and elf-patterned," J.R.R Tolkien said one day to his friend, C.S. Lewis. Tolkien was a Roman Catholic, struggling along like Thomas Merton with the shoddy spiritual equipment of the artist. Lewis was an atheist, then, trying hard to be an analytics empiricist, but A.N. Wilson, his recent biography, attributes Lewis' conversion to his friend's chance remark about elf patterns. Makes sense to me. Religious people -- and those who oppose them -- often mistake the essential dreaminess of Christian story for hard-edged argument." (279)
I was attracted to this book because of a personal interest in both sheep and spirituality -- in particular, I'm fascinated by Thic Nhat Hanh and his community in southern France. Although I enjoyed Mary Rose O'Reilley's writing, I felt like this memoir wasn't very cohesive. There isn't much of a story, it's more like her musings on a string of life experiences that are only loosely related. By the end, the author admits to this when she points out the difficulty in finding a suitable finale, so maybe the disjointedness of her memoir is somewhat purposeful. On an intellectual level, I can appreciate this, but as a reader, it was a little disappointing. She is certainly a poet, and comes up with great one-liners, but the overall flow is extremely choppy. And, occasionally, I found her poetic observations a bit opaque -- frankly, I didn't know what she was talking about at times. All in all, it felt like reading someone's diary, a very smart, literary person's diary, but still just a string of unrelated observations on a private emotional world.
This was a really interesting look into the life of a woman searching for and finding answers in the unlikeliest of places: a sheep barn in the Mid-West.
DNF 1/3 finished and I am not interested or remotely feeling anything. It comes across to me as scattered and self absorbed musings. Not seeking higher engagement. 🤷♀️ Just not there book for me.
’In the Christian calendar, November 1 is the Feast of All Saints, a day honoring not only those who are known and recognized as enlightened souls, but more especially the unknowns, saints who walk beside us unrecognized down the millennia. In Buddhism, we honor the bodhisattvas - saints - who refuse enlightenment and return willingly to the wheel of karma to help other beings. Similarly, in Judaism, anonymous holy men pray the world from its well-merited destruction. We never know who is walking beside us, who is our spiritual teacher. That one - who annoys you so - pretends for a day that he's the one, your personal Obi Wan Kenobi. The first of November is a splendid, subversive holiday.”
“I would not say I am looking for God. Or, I am not looking for God precisely. I am not seeking the God I learned about as a Catholic child, as an 18-year-old novice in a religious community, as an agnostic graduate student, as - but who cares about my disguises? Or God's.”
“When I speak in Christian terms or Buddhist terms, I'm simply selecting for the moment a dialect. Christian words for me represent the comforting vocabulary of the place I came from hometown voices saying more than the language itself can convey about how welcome and safe I am what the expectations are and where to find food. Buddhist words come from another dialect from the people over the mountain. I've become pretty fluent in Buddhist it helps me to see my home country differently, but it will never be speech I can feel completely at home in.”
I have mentioned the serendipity of finding books often in my reviews. I am always reading reviews and making lists and trying to figure out what my next book will be. Should I follow a memoir with fiction or more non-fiction. When am I going to read more poetry? What about that book that I have heard about from more than one other reader? And what do I do about the fact that I cannot read everything I am interested in.
This lovely book was referenced in David Dark’s Life’s Too Short to Pretend You’re Not Religious. The title caught my eye and then I figured out that it was available from Hoopla. So, I checked it out. It didn’t go on my ever-growing list of to-be-read-books. I am so glad that I picked it up at once.
O'Reilley is a magical writer. She showed how the disparate parts of her life made up a fascinating whole. I learned about her novitiate, her interested in music especially Sacred Harp music, her visit to Plum Village in France and most of all her work as a shepherd. Little bits came out as if we were having a conversation, not as if I was reading her writing. O’Reilley’s style is not what I am used to, but I found that I really had to pay attention to the threads of her story.
I am not sure to whom I would recommend this memoir. It is part autobiography, part spiritual guide and all thought provoking. I would give anything to spend a day, week or whatever in O’Reilley’s company. She makes me think and I am grateful.
I am really the perfect audience for this book, definitely my kind of thing. I am a (retired) psychologist who reads a lot of biography/ memoir. I have led workshops on "Gardening as a Spiritual Path." But I was a bit disappointed. I bought the book because of the Quaker in the title. I am a Quaker and I love reading books by Quaker writers. But there's very little Quakerism in it. It's in three main sections. The first is the practical spirituality of the barn, of caring for animals, cleaning up shit. The second is Buddhist spirituality. She goes and spends time (at least six months, maybe a year?) in a Zen center in France. So I thought OK, the last section will be the Quaker part. But it barely was. Mostly it was back to the barn. There is little bits of Quakerism here and there. And then she and her SO go to be pastors in some little Quaker church in Maine. Of course my branch of Quakerism is Meetings that have no paid minister. And then she says almost nothing about that experience. Her "thing" is to find spiritual lessons wherever she goes, in everything even cleaning shit. But there were no lessons to be learned from ministering to a group of Quakers (who in my experience are very spiritual, dedicated people)??!
And the book is a little irritating because she borrows so freely other people's words (always properly attributed and footnoted). A major part of the Buddhist section is transcribing her notes from Thich Nhat Hanh's dharma talks (basically Zen sermons). They are good notes and good talks. But if I want to read Thich Nhat Hanh (I do), I will read his books (I have). It seemed a little over done. And the whole book was so stuffed full of quotes from various people that it read a little bit like one of those student papers researched on Google and then pulled together in ways to avoid plagiarism.
But otherwise her writing is good and she does a lot of interesting thinking on a variety of topics in spirituality. Four stars indicates it is a good book, just not a perfect one.
It reads like a literary fiction book, though it's nonfiction. There's a distance between me and what's going on in the story. I have trouble getting swept up in it. Some of the transitions are abrupt and the sympathy for her suffering falls flat.
Though there are plenty of good turns of phrase to save the book. I like the middle part of the book when she was in Plum Village much more than the first and last thirds about sheep farming.
Here are my favorite quotes.
"...worries at the skill level of a forty-year-old."
"Time oppresses me, I crawl to God across the face of a clock." (86)
"As Thay says, the practice of mindfulness is a sneaky way to live a rich life." (145)
"...if you feel yourself becoming ill…you should not use metaphors ofl 'fighting it off', which rear up the spirit in a posture of violence." (148) great example of nonviolent thinking.
I should get a chiming clock to help bring me back to the now! (182)
“‘The important thing to remember, again, is that they’re your buttons, not the buttons of reality,’ Josef reminds me. ‘Someone else does not have the same buttons. Therefore, your irritation is based merely on an idea of how things should be. A relative idea. You are producing the feeling with the underlying perception skewing your judgment. You to get at the underlying idea.’” (188)
"... It's not that we exclude gadgets, it's that we want to be careful about how close we let them get ." (224) Am Amish dude in response to people wondering at their community having a shared telephone outside their house.
“...there is a rule to barn conversation that they should contain only about ten sentences, five for you and five for me…It’s rather like a Quaker meeting.” (244)
A bit like Henry David Thoreau's Walden meets Kathleen Norris's The Cloister Walk, with Thich Nhat Hanh thrown in. (Yes, the author meets the Buddhist monk during her stay at Plum Village in France.) I picked up Mary Rose O'Reilley's The Barn at the End of the World: The Apprenticeship of a Quaker, Buddhist Shepherd at the suggestion of a therapist friend, who heard me say I wanted to learn more about wool work, perhaps even by interning on a sheep farm. She also knew my love of memoir in general and spiritual memoirs, in particular. The book was perfect for me. I especially loved the format--a collection of short essays with a gentle narrative arc. This design allowed me to pick up and read a few essays as emotions inspired and time allowed. Now I'm wondering where I was when O'Reilly's book first appeared . . . Recommend highly to those with interest in this genre.
I have conflicted feelings over this book. I loved narration, I am interested in stories from people visiting Buddhist monasteries, I had nothing against how this woman views religion and her beliefs. I actually found it refreshing and lovely, but the sheep stories were gruesome, I saw no love for sheep themselves, only what their loves can give the farmers. One dying or not being able to birth lambs means loss of money that makes the owners angry and furious. I think seeing this as love for these animals were nonsense, denial of truth in front of you. Maybe the PETA girls were wrong, but neither was Mary right. If you can't grow soy somewhere, you absolutely still can grow something else. We can't grow a lot of things in colder climates, but we still deal with it and grow food, I bet there's a lot of plants that people can grow in warmer climates. The thing is, it's a good argument, but not as informed as she thinks it is. So, actually, logically, she's in the same plane as PETA girls with "everyone should grow soy".
I was so intrigued by the title of this book that I immediately bought a copy on Better World Books. I spent a flight to Las Vegas reading the better part of this memoir. The chapters are short and quick to read, but the truths they hold about life and faith expand on and on and on. It is ironic that I was reading this book, which includes a significant visit to Plum Village, the spiritual community following the teachings of Tich Nhat Hanh, on the date of his passing. Having this glimpse into his Buddhist practices and teachings felt relevant and right.
While I'm not inspired to buy 40 acres and start a "religious petting zoo" as Mary's dream is characterized at one point in the book, this book is a reminder to continue learning, expanding, and spending more time deeply immersed with creation. I've already recommended it to more than one friend, with intentions to buy copies as gifts. I suspect I may re-visit this story at some future time in my life.
This book came to me in an unexpected way. A friend in a social group mentioned it and asked if I waned to borrow it. We had been talking bout Mindfulness Meditation and MN, where the author Mary Rose O'Reilley is from and where I lived until after college. Her book, divided in three sections, offers grounded real-world experience as a mother, companion, musician, college professor, sheep tender and spiritual director. Her writing describes her apprenticeship of a Quaker, Buddhist, Shepherd. I particularly resonated with her month in France at Plum Village, the community of Buddhist Thick That Hann. O'Reilley's writing is practical, so humorous, enlightening. I felt I was in conversation with an incredible person, also searching for meaning and the way(s) to live life with openness and truth. I am eager to read other books by her.
I enjoyed reading this book that moved between a sheep farm and a Buddhist monastery in France, each rigorous in its own way. I had often fantasized about visiting Plum Village in France but living vicariously through this book cured me of that delusion! Don’t get me wrong, it was a valuable experience for the author but it’s not for the likes of me who has trouble enough sleeping in a warm soft bed. I can’t imagine sleeping in a cold dormitory in January! It’s so much more fun to read about these things than actually experience them. O’Reilly writes with humor and a frankness that is engaging and entertaining. Highly recommend to those who like their spirituality with a dash of comedy. Trying to get a 300 lb sheep to away from the feed trough and back into the corral was priceless!
I’m still not sure what I think about this book. The sections on tending sheep and helping to birth lambs are quite interesting and educational. I had no idea that sheep and lambs were so vulnerable and needed so much support from their caretakers. The section on visiting the Buddhist monastery in France was also an interesting peek into the expectations and fallacies of a monastic life style. Other sections just elicited a “huh?” response. Often, I just couldn’t figure out what the author was trying to communicate, particularly towards the end of the book when she seemed to lose the plot (though there really wasn’t one), as she jumped from one scene to another in a stream of consciousness fashion. As a journal of self-discovery, I’m not sure what she discovered about herself other than that she wanted to continue to care for a small herd of sheep.
I’m not sure why this book took me so long to get through. It’s about developing mindfulness while spending time working in a sheep barn. I love mindfulness and I love animals and nature as part of the path towards mindfulness. Also, the writing was good. The author is likable — she’s working on herself and making progress, but still refreshingly human. After spending a lot of time trying to figure out why I didn’t love this book, the only thing I came up with was that the chapters are weird lengths. They’re too short to be essays but too long to just flip through breezily.
The book did, however, make me think that my life will be incomplete if I manage to get all through it without ever owning sheep.
I decided to pick a non-fiction book to beginner this wonderful month of November.
"The Barn at The End of the World is a beautiful and passionate story of self discovery, growth and a quest to find true meaning in life.
Ms. O'Reilly takes the reader on a moving and heart warming journey that is filled with humour; wisdom and personal growth that fills the reader with a sense of peace, warmth and compassion.
I feel truly blessed to have had the opportunity to listen to her story. It has changed me for the better!
The narrator did a wonderful job of bringing such eloquence and passion into portraying Ms. O'Reilly's journey.
I look forward to reading more from this author. Everyone should read or listen to this book.
I consider this an excellent book. She packs so much into her story that you can ponder later. I was halfway through the book when I initially gave it 4 stars, and now that I've finished, upped it to 5.
This book is by turns human, painfully honest, vivid, humorous, relatable, uncomfortable, profound. Most books are great if they only get 2 or 3 of those qualities. This has them all.
I guess I might classify this book as a Spiritual Seeker book. But it's also much more than that. One way I gauge the quality of a book is whether it's worth rereading it.
I waited and hoped for this book to become available in my favorite second-hand bookstore for about a year since I live abroad where shipping charges are best avoided. I finally broke down and ordered it. It was well worth the shipping charges. I kept thinking that O'Reilley had written this book especially for me. Are there really others out there who have a daily yoga and meditation practice but think that a retreat with the amazing and wonderful Thich Naht Hahn in Plum Island is among life's most boring offerings? That opinion alone made O'Reilley my new best friend. I relished every page of this well-written, thoughtful book.
This book is one of the most thought provoking autobiographies I’ve ever read. More than a collection of dates, times, places, and people, it is a personal journey written by an author who willingly shared the emotional component of her path. Each scene or experience drew me into the scene by the descriptive language. There is an underlying current that challenges me to consider my own life experiences in a new light.