I have purchased many copies of this book to share with friends for its thoughtful and compassionate look at life and its challenges.

John O'Donohue has used ordinary language creatively, often turning
negatives into positives: e.g. "laboratory of the soul".

I had previously been turned off by some of his ideas and bought the
book because the price was right at the WRITERS ALMANAC web site.
Turned out to be a great idea.

This is a beautiful book, a treasure! I've purchased additional copies for friends, and I'm certain they will love it.

I absolutely LOVE this book! My husband & I are planning for a family, when I got this book in the mail I opened randomly to a page somewhere in the middle and magically turned right to the blessing for "The Mother-To-Be"! So amazing! My yoga instructor reads us passages from this book sometimes (how I heard about it) and everytime she does, the peaceful, blessed effect is palpable.

John O Donohue introduces the reader to the art of blessing. "It is the modest wish of this book to illuminate the gift that a blessing can be,the doors it can open,the healing and transfiguration it can bring."(ODonohue)
The author poured his heart and soul into creating blessings that speak to the human condition from the cradle to the grave and beyond. He intoduces each of the seven sections of the book with a poetic grace that draws the reader in while linking them to the Source of their own creativity and spirituality.

To open this book and begin to read is to discover a treasure trunk full of words, strung exquisitely together with threads of deep meaning. Poetic blessings for many of life's experiences are mixed with personal yet eternal prose teaching about the nature and power of blessing, and how it functions in the life of the individual and the community. I will always keep this book close at hand.

In his final book before his all-too-early death, John O'Donohue has given us a gift most precious. His exquisite words and images capture an extraordinary range of soulful experience, companioned beautifully by his rare capacity to offer us solace of the deepest sort, to soothe our wounded places so that our spirit might be coaxed to wonder and to hope. Blessed we are to be blessed with such a book, truly a treasure for a lifetime -- one that carries in its pages limitless healing and a wondrous opening to enlightenment and joy.

O'Donohue was so gifted. I will keep this book by my bedside. His compassion and flowing, beautiful language touches the reader's heart. I plan to read all he has written and regret that we will not have more to look forward to. Don't be misled by the title -- this is not a religious book as such, but a poetry for every occasion.

This is my go to book whenever I need inspiration or any type of quote for a service I am writing. O'Donohue's gentle and insightful words can only get better when you enjoy him reading his work. His death is a tremendous loss to all of us.

Celia Milton, Celebrant

John O'Donahue's last book is a blessing indeed with inspirational blessings for all occasions.In the last week, I've read his blessings at birthdays,friendship gatherings and a memorial service. Deeply appreciated by all.

Irish author & poet, John O'Donohue was a GIFT to the world. This book was his last before his unexpected death in January. I had the opportunity to hear him speak at a Retreat Center last year.... and he mentioned at that time that he was working on completing "To Bless the Space Between Us" - the book is beautifully written.... and I highly encourage people to "listen" to any of his audio tapes. Anam Cara... an earlier book is my favorite.

a marvelous book of blessings - a gift from John O'Donohue - who has recently died much too soon...his written legacies will continue to inform, and nurture his readers

O'Donohue has blessed us with this profound treasure. It is replete with soul - a companion for all the seasons and incidents of life.

I can't begin to say enough about this book. It is a collection of "blessings" for all occasions, moods and daily events. Buy it. If you own a copy of Anam Cara then you'll be lown away bu this one.

This book is beautiful in itself as well as in it's contents. John o'Donohue is a poet and an artist with words. These blessings can be used for so many situations. I highly recommend this book.

Bless the Space Between Us is a great book of wonderfully simple yet insightful poems and blessings. If we all blessed the spaces between us, there wouldn't be any spaces as we could all just be the one among us. Beautifully written and lovely in its grace and language.

When I grew up, every Friday night my mother would put her hands on my head and bless me with a prayer. There was always something special about that experience that has stayed with me. O'Donohue's book of powerful blessings (non-denominational except for a meditation on the eyes of Jesus) covers the breadth of life experience with depth and compassion for self and other. I savor this book and keep it close by to share with others. What a gift from O'Donohue! What a great loss: his death silenced more from such an exquisite voice of the human soul.

This is a wonderful book, either for sitting quietly and pondering specific topics or as a resource for appropriate blessings for specific events or transitions.

I have this item in book and CD formats. What a gift to our spirits! His brilliance and depth of understanding of the heart and spirit are incomparable! For those who are ministers, there's a lot of inspiration for sermons/homilies in this book. There are blessings that can be incorporated into various rites of passage, as well. He brings to light how little we bless each other and the positive difference it would make if we would. He is the soul friend of everyone who's read his works. I highly recommend this book. I'll be buying several more copies of this book as well as Anam Cara (also by John O'Donohue).

This book is a treasure. Since it arrived in the mail I have read from it every day. It has the most beautifully written Blessings that sound like lovely music when read aloud. There are Blessings for all occasions. This book is a must have for anyone who loves to inspire others through public speaking especially those who work with people in the helping professions. Makes a great gift too! I havent been so excited 'bout a book in a long time. Go ahead buy it... you wont be sorry, and then read it to others and watch their reaction.

This book is a treasure trove of inspiring words, to console, encourage and strengthen. It will assist in all stages and experiences of live. It will be on my bedside locker in times of need and times of blessing.

After getting used to the sweet but very strong Irish English of John O'Donohue you feel the warmth in your heart that you were always looking for. All his blessings transcend to that place your soul longs for; it's classical music spoken.

It's painful to think on what we've all lost in John's passing, but this book is a tremendous gift that he has left behind for us. The blessings are beautiful in themselves, but what I most appreciated about the book is the way he explains "blessing", both in the introduction and in the essay at the end of the book. Even without the particular words of blessing, these explanations open a powerful view of the world and our relation to one another.
This is definitely a book to read, re-read, and to treasure always. I guarantee it will be something you'll refer to many times through-out your life.

"Endings seem to lie in wait," John O'Donohue wrote. His certainly did. He died in his sleep, January 3, 2008, on vacation near Avignon. He was just 53.

I met John O'Donohue only once. I had read Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, the 1997 book that made him deservedly famous. "Read" is wrong. At 100 words a minute, I had, over weeks, absorbed enough of this deceptively simple exploration of "soul friendship" to grasp that here was an original thinker, a gifted poet and, most astonishing of all, a philosopher who had forged a way of looking at the world that was painfully aware of human frailty but insistent on the triumphal power of divine love. And he wrote beautifully.

A book this exciting, you have to talk about it. I mentioned O'Donohue to Sarah Ban Breathnach, the author of the Oprah-annointed Simple Abundance and Moving On. As luck would have it, she and O'Donohue were friends. And when he came through New York, Sarah generously arranged a dinner.

That was the night I learned to drink single malt. And was there ever a better teacher in the art of sipping than an Irish philosopher and mystic who had worn the collar for 19 years? I don't recall what we talked about, and neither can my wife, who does not drink; all I remember is the cascades of laughter, the unbuckled happiness of people who are thrilled to be alive, and together, and sharing good fellowship with sympathetic souls in a nice restaurant on a rainy New York night.

An evening like that is so rare I think of it as a religious experience. John O'Donohue, a holy man if ever there was one, had a lot of nights like that. A recent interviewer wrote, in memoriam, about a morning when O'Donohue came to breakfast with a hangover, having polished off an entire bottle of single malt with friends the night before. "The bottle didn't die," he announced, "without spiritual necessity."

That offhand remark was quintessential O'Donohue. He never failed to connect the worldly with the sacred --- and see it all as holy. As a writer and a man, he reminded me of the priest who was a friend of Proust's. Yes, he believed there was a Hell. But he didn't believe anyone went there.

Where do our deepest beliefs come from? Generally from childhood, and then not from what our parents and teachers say, but from what they do and who they are. In John O'Donohue's case, his mother was the family's loving center. His father was a stonemason and farmer --- and, O'Donohue thought, the "holiest man I ever met, priests included." Sometimes the boy would bring tea to his father as he worked the fields. Often, young John heard him --- praying --- before he saw him.

O'Donohue had a superlative education, earned a Ph.D. in philosophical theology from the University of Tubingen, became known as an expert on Hegel and, later, Meister Eckhart. As a priest, he loved the Church's sacramental structure and its mystical and intellectual traditions. He also loved writing. Eventually, an officious bishop made him choose. "The best decision I ever made was to become a priest," O'Donohue would say, years later, "and I think the second best decision was to resign from public priestly ministry."

In fact, he had his issues with Catholicism, especially its views on sex and women. The Church, he said, "is not trustable in the area of Eros at all." And it "has a pathological fear of the feminine --- it would sooner allow priests to marry than it would allow women to become priests."

He was just as hard on other denominations. Religious fundamentalists, he said, "only want to lead you back, driven by nostalgia for a past that never existed, to manipulate and control you.... [Their] God tends to be a monolith and an emperor of the blandest singularity." New Age spirituality, he felt, was a smorgasbord, and undisciplined. Not that he found any comfort in secular life. He scorned the mall, feared for the spiritual health of the young, and had a special dislike for media folk, "non-elected custodians of sensationalism."

His bedrocks were his faith and "the Celtic imagination," which, he said, "represents a vision of the divine where no one or nothing is excluded." The blend he created was pure joy: "I think the divine is like a huge smile that breaks somewhere in the sea within you, and gradually comes up again."

O'Donohue was no Pollyanna. He was deeply troubled by bad things happening to good people. But he also saw that "a lot of suffering is just getting rid of dross in yourself, and lingering and hanging in the darkness is often --- I say this against myself --- a failure of imagination, to imagine the door into the light."

So it makes sense that O'Donohue's last book would be nothing but invocations and blessings --- a simple, how-to guide that, in effect, takes him back to his father praying in the fields. By the fact that we live, we are blessed; by the light that shines in our hearts, we have the power to bless others and be blessed by them. Is there a purer, more elementary form of the divine in action?

He asks: What is a blessing? His first answer is formal, and expected: "A blessing is a circle of light drawn around a person to protect, heal and strengthen." But then the poetry enters: "It is a gracious invocation where the human heart pleads with the divine heart." And then there's the magical factor: "When a blessing is invoked, a window opens in eternal time."

We need to impact one another's lives in this spiritual way, he writes, because the process of living in a post-industrial, media-drenched world moves us further and further from our innate wholeness. Only direct action can breach the distance. Happily, it takes no special training to bless one another. It's just a matter of gathering yourself --- and finding the words.

In "To Bless the Space Between Us," the poet in O'Donohue seeks to break the shackles of dead language. He offers fresh blessings, and on topics the Church might overlook --- not just for a new home, marriage and child, but for the parents of a criminal, for parents who have lost a child, for those experiencing exile, solitude and failure.

These blessings look hardship in the face, but only as a challenge. In our souls, and, especially, in our hearts, O'Donohue believed, we are all home. We never left, we never will. How hard it is to hold that thought. And yet, when we take the care of others into our hearts, something happens.....

You may not have a problem with the plainspoken language of O'Donohue's blessings. I do. Maybe it's just a writer's discomfort with another writer's words. But the invocations that dot the book --- my God, could this man write! Just one example:

"Our longing for the eternal kindles our imagination to bless. Regardless of how we configure the eternal, the human heart continues to dream of a state of wholeness, that place where everything comes together, where loss will be made good, where blindness will transform into vision, where damage will be made whole, where the clenched question will open in the house of surprise, where the travails of life's journey will enjoy a homecoming. To invoke a blessing is to call some of that wholeness upon a person now."

Death was nothing to John O'Donohue --- a silent friend who walks beside us all our days. And on the other side? "I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us," he wrote. "Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by."

Let it be.

John O'Donohue died peacefully in his sleep on January 8 of this year. He was working on a book on the late medieval mystic Meister Eckhart. Hopefully, enough of it was completed to warrant a posthumous publication. In the meantime, his To Bless the Space Between Us is O'Donohue's parting gift.

The book is a collection of blessings. That doesn't necessarily sound too exciting until one recognizes the deep-down meaning of a blessing, and O'Donohue's introduction provides some guidance. In our overly busy culture, he writes, we frequently race over the "crucial thresholds in our life" without pausing to take note of their significance. We no longer have "rituals to protect, encourage, and guide us as we cross over into the unknown" (p. xiv). A blessing is precisely one of those protecting, encouraging, and guiding rituals. It memorializes our transitions, connects us with a wider community (since none of us really ever travels alone), and strives to "present a minimal psychic portrait of the geography of change it names" (ibid).

Blessings, then, are all-important. They serve to orient us in our life's journey, establish fellowship with fellow travelers, and remind us of what we too often forget: that we are pilgrims, not haphazard wanderers.

Because there are all kinds of thresholds that lead to new stages of the journey, O'Donohue has written all kinds of blessings: for obvious thresholds such as birthdays, parenthood, adulthood, old age, and death; for interior thresholds such as courage, grief, addiction, suffering, loneliness; for the thresholds of callings to the priesthood, marriage, farming; and for the thresholds that our yearnings for love, peace, and friendship can nudge us towards. Some of the blessings O'Donohue gives us are breath-takingly beautiful; others, not so much. As he himself confesses, blessings are difficult things to write. They're not poems, because they're not oblique, but rather are direct addresses "driven by immediacy and care." Yet they're not utterly unpoetic, either, because in their immediacy they must also be evocative.

Given O'Donohue's passing, it's not amiss to quote a bit of one of his most beautiful and haunting blessings (p. 72): "For Death."

From the moment you were born,
Your death has walked beside you.
Though it seldom shows its face,
You still feel its empty touch
When fear invades your life,
Or what you love is lost
Or inner damage is incurred...

That the silent presence of your death
Would call your life to attention,
Wake you up to how scarce your time is
And to the urgency to become free
And equal to the call of your destiny.

That you would gather yourself
And decide carefully
How you now can live
The life you would love
To look back on
From your deathbed.

"Endings seem to lie in wait," John O'Donohue wrote. His certainly did. He died in his sleep, January 3, 2008, on vacation near Avignon. He was just 53.

I met John O'Donohue only once. I had read Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, the 1997 book that made him deservedly famous. "Read" is wrong. At 100 words a minute, I had, over weeks, absorbed enough of this deceptively simple exploration of "soul friendship" to grasp that here was an original thinker, a gifted poet and, most astonishing of all, a philosopher who had forged a way of looking at the world that was painfully aware of human frailty but insistent on the triumphal power of divine love. And he wrote beautifully.

A book this exciting, you have to talk about it. I mentioned O'Donohue to Sarah Ban Breathnach, the author of the Oprah-annointed Simple Abundance and Moving On. As luck would have it, she and O'Donohue were friends. And when he came through New York, Sarah generously arranged a dinner.

That was the night I learned to drink single malt. And was there ever a better teacher in the art of sipping than an Irish philosopher and mystic who had worn the collar for 19 years? I don't recall what we talked about, and neither can my wife, who does not drink; all I remember is the cascades of laughter, the unbuckled happiness of people who are thrilled to be alive, and together, and sharing good fellowship with sympathetic souls in a nice restaurant on a rainy New York night.

An evening like that is so rare I think of it as a religious experience. John O'Donohue, a holy man if ever there was one, had a lot of nights like that. A recent interviewer wrote, in memoriam, about a morning when O'Donohue came to breakfast with a hangover, having polished off an entire bottle of single malt with friends the night before. "The bottle didn't die," he announced, "without spiritual necessity."

That offhand remark was quintessential O'Donohue. He never failed to connect the worldly with the sacred --- and see it all as holy. As a writer and a man, he reminded me of the priest who was a friend of Proust's. Yes, he believed there was a Hell. But he didn't believe anyone went there.

Where do our deepest beliefs come from? Generally from childhood, and then not from what our parents and teachers say, but from what they do and who they are. In John O'Donohue's case, his mother was the family's loving center. His father was a stonemason and farmer --- and, O'Donohue thought, the "holiest man I ever met, priests included." Sometimes the boy would bring tea to his father as he worked the fields. Often, young John heard him --- praying --- before he saw him.

O'Donohue had a superlative education, earned a Ph.D. in philosophical theology from the University of Tubingen, became known as an expert on Hegel and, later, Meister Eckhart. As a priest, he loved the Church's sacramental structure and its mystical and intellectual traditions. He also loved writing. Eventually, an officious bishop made him choose. "The best decision I ever made was to become a priest," O'Donohue would say, years later, "and I think the second best decision was to resign from public priestly ministry."

In fact, he had his issues with Catholicism, especially its views on sex and women. The Church, he said, "is not trustable in the area of Eros at all." And it "has a pathological fear of the feminine --- it would sooner allow priests to marry than it would allow women to become priests."

He was just as hard on other denominations. Religious fundamentalists, he said, "only want to lead you back, driven by nostalgia for a past that never existed, to manipulate and control you.... [Their] God tends to be a monolith and an emperor of the blandest singularity." New Age spirituality, he felt, was a smorgasbord, and undisciplined. Not that he found any comfort in secular life. He scorned the mall, feared for the spiritual health of the young, and had a special dislike for media folk, "non-elected custodians of sensationalism."

His bedrocks were his faith and "the Celtic imagination," which, he said, "represents a vision of the divine where no one or nothing is excluded." The blend he created was pure joy: "I think the divine is like a huge smile that breaks somewhere in the sea within you, and gradually comes up again."

O'Donohue was no Pollyanna. He was deeply troubled by bad things happening to good people. But he also saw that "a lot of suffering is just getting rid of dross in yourself, and lingering and hanging in the darkness is often --- I say this against myself --- a failure of imagination, to imagine the door into the light."

So it makes sense that O'Donohue's last book would be nothing but invocations and blessings --- a simple, how-to guide that, in effect, takes him back to his father praying in the fields. By the fact that we live, we are blessed; by the light that shines in our hearts, we have the power to bless others and be blessed by them. Is there a purer, more elementary form of the divine in action?

He asks: What is a blessing? His first answer is formal, and expected: "A blessing is a circle of light drawn around a person to protect, heal and strengthen." But then the poetry enters: "It is a gracious invocation where the human heart pleads with the divine heart." And then there's the magical factor: "When a blessing is invoked, a window opens in eternal time."

We need to impact one another's lives in this spiritual way, he writes, because the process of living in a post-industrial, media-drenched world moves us further and further from our innate wholeness. Only direct action can breach the distance. Happily, it takes no special training to bless one another. It's just a matter of gathering yourself --- and finding the words.

In "To Bless the Space Between Us," the poet in O'Donohue seeks to break the shackles of dead language. He offers fresh blessings, and on topics the Church might overlook --- not just for a new home, marriage and child, but for the parents of a criminal, for parents who have lost a child, for those experiencing exile, solitude and failure.

These blessings look hardship in the face, but only as a challenge. In our souls, and, especially, in our hearts, O'Donohue believed, we are all home. We never left, we never will. How hard it is to hold that thought. And yet, when we take the care of others into our hearts, something happens.....

You may not have a problem with the plainspoken language of O'Donohue's blessings. I do. Maybe it's just a writer's discomfort with another writer's words. But the invocations that dot the book --- my God, could this man write! Just one example:

"Our longing for the eternal kindles our imagination to bless. Regardless of how we configure the eternal, the human heart continues to dream of a state of wholeness, that place where everything comes together, where loss will be made good, where blindness will transform into vision, where damage will be made whole, where the clenched question will open in the house of surprise, where the travails of life's journey will enjoy a homecoming. To invoke a blessing is to call some of that wholeness upon a person now."

Death was nothing to John O'Donohue --- a silent friend who walks beside us all our days. And on the other side? "I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us," he wrote. "Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by."

Let it be.

The Mystery works in powerful ways through John O'Donohue but never more so eloquently than in this exquisite collection of blessings, even for aspects of life for which we typically don't seek support or can't find words. As he speaks of these transitions, I find it remarkable that this was his last work, published after his sudden death. Those of us who love John will find solace in his acceptance of the sacredness of every aspect of life. He has left a work that will continue to bless and reach us in both celebration and the darkest of hours. To hear his voice adds to the poignancy of these blessings.