Welcome to my Homepage!
"Capacity for Life" is the name I have given my ministry of retreat leading, Spiritual Direction and writing.
My name is Christine Strohmeier. Born and raised in Germany, I followed God's call and moved to London in 2004. Through many circumstances I increasingly struggled with church as I knew it and always had been involved with since meeting Jesus in a personal way, when I was 15. After years of searching, I found my spiritual home in the Northumbria Community, a dispersed, new monastic Community rooted in Celtic Spirituality. The Community has given me the sense that I am not alone in having embraced a much more contemplative approach to my faith. I became a Companion in 2015 and have renewed my vows of availability and vulnerability since.
Silence, stillness and creative expressions of my spirituality have become increasingly important to me, connecting head and heart and helping me access the reality of "God within me". I have been going on annual, silent retreats for many years now and in 2017, I did the 30-day Ignatian "Full Spiritual Exercises", a silent retreat in which I journeyed with the human Christ, contemplating his incarnation, ministry, death and resurrection. A life-changing experience!
In 2014, I published my first book of prayer-poems, "My little Dandelion".
I currently work on a book about Consecrated Celibacy outside traditional Religious Orders.
It's my passion to come alongside and journey with others who are seeking God. One of the ways I do this is by offering Spiritual Direction.
I am based in South West London but also accompany people via Zoom/Skype/FaceTime/What'sApp/phone/e-mail.
Where are you at in your life? How does Covid 19 continue to impact you? I am finding that there are days when I could almost forget that life as it was has not returned. But there is no denying that changes are here to stay. Time and again I return to Jesus' words that "each day has enough worry of its own". Living in the "sacrament of the present moment" is not an easy practice, but where I can just be there, really there, even if only for a couple of moments, in the here and now, life somehow becomes more hopeful. I can discover and cherish the many gifts that are hidden in each day more easily. The warmth of the sun on my skin. The clear autumn air. The beginning of leaves' turning. And sometimes a special blessing awaits: I recently spent a week in Somerset with a friend, and a young Buzzard graced us with his presence for about 20 minutes or so. I had never seen a Buzzard that closely, and when I looked into his face through my binoculars, the beauty I saw was breathtaking. It brought home to me in an awe-inspiring way how connected all life is, and that I am part of this connection. Now, back in London, it might not be a Buzzard, but it can be a butterfly, or a bee visiting my tomatoe plants on the balcony, that keep on reminding me of that connection. These moments of presence stay and linger. They nourish my soul and help me trust that hope is not far away.