Young'uns

wandering around

looking confused

should I go 

this way                        

                    or that?

wait for the wave 

to rush over my feet

or run up into the hot sand?

we were so eager 

get away from the

overbearing parents

always telling us

what to do                    

                    what not to

freedom seemed so appealing

back then

the adults made it look 

so easy

floating on waves

dip your bill for a fish

lift up into the sky

sail through the air

but now

on our own

with my mottle-feathered gang

I'm hungry and bored

kind of cold too

missing mom and dad

Tiny Doses of Gratitude

 

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and because of this, thoughts of gratitude are in the air. 

So often, we think that gratitude has to be related to something BIG. We assume that the bigger the better, the bigger, the more gratitude generated. But I just listened to a program on the radio on which the professor spoke of research that has proven gratitude is especially valuable when we feel it for many little things throughout our day.

It is better to look for and notice small things you are grateful for as you go about your daily life. Weaving appreciation through your day is more effective in terms of actually helping us become more grateful, more positive, than setting aside a special time to reflect on what you are grateful for once a day.

The whole idea is to build your gratitude muscle, as you might any other muscle. 

The picture I posted above is of my favorite vacation place. When I am there, I definitely feel gratitude for all I see and experience. But what that story reminded me, is to recognize what I am grateful for in my ordinary life. To remember that there is extraordinary value in appreciating the simple pleasures of my home and my life here. 

Tiny doses of gratitude can add up to big changes in attitude.

After Anxiety

Looking back on the past few weeks

I see that anxiety

held me tight

all the "what ifs"

were negative

taking me down

But here's the thing -

everything went smoothly

plane trip

family reunion

close quarters

wedding

When I got home

had time to reflect

and none of those "what ifs"

became real

Instead

new possibilities 

edged them out

inspiring hope

maybe,

just maybe

normalcy is possible

even in the midst of chaos

I do not have to own

broader-perspective chaos

I do not have to 

let it in

I can just let it fester

on the hot sidewalk

of compassion

watch it shrivel up

and disappear

Anxiety 

does not define me

Chaos

cannot claim me

if I choose

to remain steady

to breathe deeply

to hope for better

Stealing Jesus

As a minister, I am well aware that people sometimes interpret scripture in ways that support their own predilections. It horrifies me, whenever I encounter it, but drawing from my teenage participation in a rather fundamentalist youth group, I assumed God would judge them for it. Justice will be served, I assured myself, even though it might take some time.

These days, however, there are so many ways in which Jesus's teachings and those of other prophets, are being manipulated to favor greed and the urge for power, that I wonder if the arc of justice can ever bend enough to right the accumulated wrongs.

They have stolen Jesus

manipulated his words

done violence 

against the beloved

beleaguered ones

So many good people

wanting to be faithful

buy the message

of greed and power

they don't realize

those slick speakers

have kidnapped Jesus

abandoned the voiceless

shoved aside

peace and compassion

Fear dominates our thoughts

tries to hold us hostage too

dare we protest?

speak truth 

tenderly

courageously

into the cacophony

of hubris

While the Sun Shines

 

While the sun shines

there is much to do

fill the woodbox

hang out laundry

mow the lawn

wash the windows

So easy to consider

all the details

making up survival

these, of course

must be done 

sometime

easier in clement weather

But what about thriving?

what about joy?

caring for the soul?

lifting my spirits?

My new list

while the sun is shining: 

wander in the woods

sit by the stream

soak in the golden warmth

stretch out in my hammock

paint the light

write a poem

Halloween Comes with Invitations

Halloween comes with invitations:

choose an identity!

get creative!

dress up!

trick or treat!

dance!

let go of the old!

For the Celts

the veil is thin

Samhain, as they know it 

sits on the cusp

a new year just about to dawn

but first

honor the old

recognize what is yours

and what is not

again, the message comes

let go

now we enter interior time

you are invited 

to go within

ever deeper

breath here

let your shoulders relax

your heartbeat slow

be here now

is all you are asked

 

The Bindness of Privilege

I understand the draw of water, the sense of peace it offers. It makes sense to me that people find their way to the ocean for times of respite and relaxation. But for many people, such as Palestinians, peace is too distant for them to imagine.

The contrast that Trump tactlessly drew between the Riviera and war-torn Gaza horrified me. It was a blatant display of the ignorance that a life of privilege, and its concordant disconnection from the realities that most people face, brings. People in Gaza have lost everything - loved ones, homes, communities, their entire way of life! And he has the audacity to suggest that these people be relocated to a country that is not their home, while their homes and communities be bulldozed out of the way to create an upscale resort!

The ignorance of one’s privilege is bad enough, but it is appalling when the president we have elected to lead our country displays such blatant disregard for the lives of others. If we cannot count on our leader(s) to lead us with integrity, wisdom or compassion, then we need to step up and step out.

We need to refuse to be led into the white-supremacist world Trump envisions, and start doing everything we can to create a different, better world. Start where you are. Talk with your family, friends and neighbors about the privilege and racism being promoted by the current administration. Conspire with one another about ways to be the kind and compassionate people that this world needs in every situation.

It is only by standing up and stepping out of the dystopian reality that is attempting to infiltrate our lives, that we can create the reality in which all people are valued, respected, listened to, and believed.

Untangling the Web of White Christian Nationalism

A Defense Intelligence Agency memo, dated Jan. 28, 2025, directs the DIA workforce to suspend observance of the following: Martin Luther King, Jr. Birthday, Black History Month, Women's History Month, Holocaust Day and Days of Remembrance, Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage Month, Pride, Juneteenth, Women's Equality Day, National Hispanic Heritage Month, National Disability Employment Awareness Month and National American Indian Heritage Month.

These days and months commemorate events and people who have been overlooked and outright abused by those in power. By "suspending" the observance of them, our government is trying to return to the days in which they could pretend ignorance of these abuses. But this is like that old children's sermon that uses a tube of toothpaste to show that once the paste has been squeezed out, it is almost impossible to get it back into the tube. 

We have seen the videos and heard the stories, so we can no longer pretend that we do not know about the injustices sustained by our black and brown friends. We cannot wipe from our minds the reality that is the Holocaust, and the continuing discrimination faced by our Jewish sisters and brothers. We cannot make believe that misogyny is in our past when women's sovereignty over their own bodies is denied. 

As a person of faith, I stand in a long line of those who have stood up against racism, sexism, agism, ableist mindsets. For a while there, we thought we had made some progress. Things were looking better. There was still plenty of room for improvement, but we had hope that justice for all was within reach.

But now, the people who want to go back to the "good old days" of white supremacy have elected a president who is using his power to upend all of the good we have accomplished. he has gathered people around him who whisper platitudes in his ear, hoping they will be rewarded with more money, more power, more rolling back of the progressive laws that get in the way of increasing their wealth and power.

One of the frustrating aspects of this power grab, is that white christian nationalism is an insidious part of the mix. But we need to make it clear that this is not Christianity. It is not even close. Christianity stands in absolute opposition to the agenda of white christian nationalism. The trouble is, that savvy leaders in that movement have used christian language in an attempt to draw people into their web of deceit. 

As people of faith, we need to untangle that web. We need to denounce white christian nationalism and its agenda of greed and power. We need to make clear the teachings of Jesus who was himself a brown man, who aligned himself with the poor and the powerless. Christianity is not a prosperity gospel. It does not honor the rich or powerful. In fact, Jesus told a wealthy young man that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a wealthy person to get into heaven. 

I believe Jesus. I also understand that heaven is a long way off for most of us, and that we want this world to be a kinder, more peaceful, and more just place for all of God's children. In order for this to happen, we need to stand up and speak up - scary as that may be.

We Hold These Truths to be Self-Evident

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."

The Declaration of Independence does not mince words. It was crafted to state what our Founders were hoping to create in this brave new world as they freed themselves from Britain's rule. 

Our society's long standing agreement about what constitutes "the Truth" is under attack. Some news outlets blatantly promote a skewed version of events, meanwhile doing all they can to convince their followers that no other news sources can be trusted. Many social media outlets have stopped monitoring their feeds to ensure that false and misleading stories are labeled as such, and so it can be difficult to tell truth from fiction when searching for information. Truth is being undermined, eaten away by those who strive to manipulate how we see the world and how we perceive events.

It is a well-known principle that if something is repeated often enough, eventually it starts to carry the ring of truth. This happens even with things that begin their lives as blatant lies! When we are bombarded day after day with false statements, it becomes almost impossible to sift through them to recover the truth lying squashed under the weight of it all. I wonder if we can agree to any truths being self-evident anymore? 

Are all people created equal, or are some a little more "equal" - more important than others? Is someone more equal because of the color of their skin, the education they received, their gender identity or the size of their bank account? And while we are talking about this particular point, the Declaration was obviously written long before inclusive language took hold, stating "all men are created equal". For way too long women did not count as full citizens. Our foremothers had to fight for the right of women to even be seen as a person. We thought this was "settled law" but with everything else that is being called into question, how long will it be before women are no longer considered of equal status? Roe v Wade has already been struck down; what is next? What does this undermining of rights mean for people who don't conform to binary gender concepts? Are we going to allow ourselves or our country to go back? 

Are the Rights afforded to us really unalienable, meaning nonnegotiable? Do we each get to live our lives as we wish? Are we all operating under the same Liberties as other folks, or do some people get more leeway in their liberties than others? 

And what about the Pursuit of Happiness? It is difficult to experience happiness when my rights as a woman are being wrested from my hands. It is difficult to experience happiness when the president-elect and his team refuse to submit themselves to the ethics that govern everyone else. It is difficult, almost impossible to experience happiness when honesty, mutual respect, kindness, care for the vulnerable, and so many other values I thought we all agreed on, are under attack.

Abraham Lincoln called the Declaration “a rebuke and a stumbling-block to tyranny and oppression.” 

I sure hope Abe was right. I hope something blocks the tyranny and oppression that have started to infiltrate our country. I hope something trips up those who are intent on undermining the rights for which our Founders and many others fought so hard. Maybe that something is us. We the people can and must do the hard work of deciphering truth from falsehood. We can and must insist on maintaining and holding fast to the rights the Declaration of Independence promised us.

Hope Is a Dangerously Good Thing

 

I have been thinking about hope, particularly about the difference it makes when we have it versus when we don't. Several years ago I heard someone say that they thought hope was not a good thing, because it creates a false sense of relief from the pressures we may be facing. Illustrative of this viewpoint, Morgan Freeman's character, Otis "Red" Redding, in the 1994 movie, The Shawshank Redemption, says, "Hope is a dangerous thing, my friend, it can kill a man". Red believes that hope of escape or release can drive a man insane because it's unlikely to come true. Tim Robbins' character Andy Dufresne disagrees, saying, "Hope is a good thing, maybe even the best of things. And good things never die".

Andy has it right, I think, having experienced this for myself in the past few days. 

As has been true for many of us, the divisions that exist in our country, and even in the world at large, have been wearing me down. It seems that every day the news, no matter what outlet you choose, focuses on the most negative stories and perspectives they can find. I didn't realize that all of this negativity had such a profound affect on me until a little bit of hope broke through the rubble of negativity and I felt my spirits lift.

The sliver of hope was represented by President Biden choosing to stand aside rather than continuing to pursue another term as president. Leading up to this moment, I was discouraged by so many lawmakers, journalists and others publicly calling for him to do just this. These conversations should have happened in private, where honest discussion, weighing of ideas and sharing opinions could take place in a respectful way, without the entire world watching. 

Listening in on conversations I would rather not have been privy to, left me feeling exhausted and incredibly stressed. Add to this the violence of an assassination attempt on Trump, followed by white christian nationalists comparing him to Jesus, and claiming God had saved him so that he could in turn save America; I was traumatized and terrified. 

And I knew I had to speak up to defend the faith I hold and the God I served as pastor for more than 30 years.

The God I know, has higher standards than any small-minded human with their self-serving agenda. The God I know does not save one person's life at the cost of another's. The God I know does not place power in the hands of those who want that power for selfish reasons. The God I know has a long-standing preference for the poor. All of the things I know and love about the God I serve stand in stark contrast to the values espoused by white christian nationalists, their terrifying Project 2025, and the corrupt criminal candidate to whom they have sold their souls.

Back to that glimmer of hope I mentioned. By stepping aside for the good of the nation, for the good of democracy, President Biden has shown what it takes to be a true leader. He may have wanted to continue in the presidency for another four years, but he has placed the needs of the whole above his own personal agenda. This humble act of service is incredibly rare in this day and age. Simply stated, it gives me hope that we may actually rise out of the current maelstrom and continue this experiment in democracy. It gives me hope that every person might still be seen and heard, their rights respected and their votes counted.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Emily Dickinson, "'Hope' is the Thing with Feathers" from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson, ed., Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University press, Copyright © 1951, 1955, 1979, 1983

The Injustice of Immunity

 

The path ahead is a challenging one - no matter what "path" I contemplate these days. My everyday walks are challenging because of the extreme heat that is afflicting most of the country, including Vermont, and the fact that rain either inundates us or skips over our garden means I am often walking in dust or mud.

The path ahead for our country holds far too much of my attention. I subscribe to a national newspaper, hoping for a wide breadth of information about what is going on in the world, but most days my heart takes a dive just skimming the so-called "top stories" which are steadily normalizing a reality I do not want to acknowledge. 

Presidential immunity is just the latest scandal to rise to the top of my newsfeed. And, yes, I do consider it a scandal. I am astonished that we are just stumbling along as if this must be accepted without any pushback. Those of us who believe in this country and the system of checks and balances our founders established, want desperately to rely on them taking care of this problem. But at this point in time, the checks and balances have been dismantled. The Judicial branch of our government, meant to balance the Executive branch, is no longer free of bias, and the Legislative branch is unable to function at all thanks to the deeply entrenched desire on the part of some to oppose anything their colleagues on the other side of the aisle propose.

The dismantling of justice and, honestly, of reality itself, is insidious work. In this country it began quite some time ago. When I comment to equally-frustrated friends that Barack Obama should have appointed a Supreme Court justice in March of 2016, but was blocked by an obstructionist Republican Senate, others with a deeper understanding of history tell me the unravelling started long before that happened in 2016.

I am not equipped to go into the long and painful history of our country's unravelling, and of the root causes of the dissociative state we find ourselves in with regard to reality. But what I will say is that we cannot stand by and just watch this play out. We need to speak up wherever and whenever we can, adding our voices to those who are willing to say we have lost our way as a country and as a people. 

We need to teach our children and our politicians that there IS such a thing as "truth", and that truth is universal. Truth cannot be tamed or manipulated. We as a country need to find our way back to the honest truth - of what is just and fair, as well as the truth of what simply IS. 

Jesus said "the truth will set you free". Personally, I would like to be free again, and this is my wish for all of us. The irony is, that while you and I feel less and less free, a convicted criminal is not only running free, but he is running for president. Until this great injustice is corrected, until everyone stands back on equal footing in this "land of the free and home of the brave", none of us is truly free.

Blind Justice

Lady Justice is depicted as being blindfolded, whenever she appears. This signifies that in the eyes of justice, everyone is treated equally. No one is more important than anyone else. No one's rights supersede anyone else's. This is even stated in the Declaration of Independence: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men (sic) are created equal,..." 

So, I am confused hearing that the Supreme Court of the United States is deliberating about whether the president is equal to everyone else, or if he or she is exempt from justice. How is it even possible that we are contemplating this? Why would we want our elected leader to be free from the laws that all of the rest of us are responsible to live up to? What is the benefit in this? It seems to me that this is a short step away from said elected leader declaring him or herself president for life rather than succumbing to elections when their term was up. (Which we already had a brush with, if you remember!)

It seems to me that we would want a president who was a role model; someone who leads the way in showing people how to live responsibly, honestly and upholding the laws of the land. I cannot get my head around the possibility that any honest person would want to put themselves above the law. To me, a leader should be one of the staunchest supporters of the laws of justice. At the very least, being a leader should mean doing one's absolute best to consider the needs of the whole nation above their own personal desires and whims. 

If a person thinks they are above the rules that govern everyone else, then their life has no moral center. If someone does not have a plumb line by which to judge when they are on course and when they are off, then that person could end up pretty far off course very quickly. And if that person was the president, then when this happened they take the entire country with them. Consider the problems this would create!

If the Supreme Court decides that the president is above the law, then Lady Justice may no longer be blindfolded, but her hands will be tied. Nothing good can come of this, and it horrifies me to know that people who are supposed to guard the integrity of our country do not see this as a terrible violation of one of the very principles they should be upholding. 

Under Construction

 

Gary and I are in Florida now, a winter destination that we appreciate for its warmth and our ability to walk outdoors despite the fact that there are snowstorms back home in Vermont. Last year before we came down to Florida for our first extended stay, I wrote about the concept of home. This year, knowing what to expect from this place, I am feeling more settled here. The irony though, is that the building in which our condo is located is undergoing major renovations. From 8am until 5pm there is the unnerving sound of drilling, concrete dust floating through the air, and the odors of paint and sealants. Windows are covered with blue plastic or plywood sheets to protect them (and us!) from flying debris. The pool is inaccessible during the daytime hours, and coated with the aforementioned concrete dust and debris of indeterminate nature, even when swimming is allowed, although probably not advised.

A week or so after our arrival, once the flooring had dried and painting was (mostly) complete, we were told that we could once again use our balcony. Gary and I were thrilled. We moved the furniture back out, cleaned windows and were prepared to enjoy our favorite spot in the entire apartment. The staging was still attached, with ropes and wires hanging down 12 stories from the roof, supporting scaffold cages that could be raised and lowered to where the workers were needed. But this seemed like a small thing compared to the ability to enjoy our balcony once again.

Despite having the balcony back, our quiet mornings were not guaranteed. Several mornings, I heard the whine of the staging motor begin as I sat out there in my pajamas and robe, enjoying a cup of tea. I would dash inside to change into something acceptable (to me) for company. Soon enough, the faces of a construction worker or two rose into view. Sometimes they stopped at our level and hopped out to clean windows, touch up the paint or address another last-minute issue. Other times they were just passing by on their way to upper levels of the building.

So, yes, we are here in Florida, enjoying the warmth and sunshine. And yes, we are also living in a construction zone. Most days we wander off to another location for a few hours - the beach, the library, a nature trail - returning as the workday winds down. It is a different kind of balance than the one I anticipated in coming down here, but it works for us. It also pushes us to get out and about rather than sitting too long in one place.

O Christmas Tree!

Today was the day. Early on this cloudy morning I was not sure, but as we approached noon, the skies cleared to that brilliant blue that so beautifully embodies the best of a Vermont winter's day. Gary and I gathered what we needed - hand saw, cornmeal, tarp and gloves - and we drove down the road.

The tree farm is just down the road from our place, and there have been years in which we carried the tree home on a sled or sharing the load with our children, but this year it was just us. Involving the car seemed the sensible option. No need to stress our backs or our bodies unnecessarily. 

We thought we had found the perfect tree almost as soon as we set foot in the field, but that felt strange to me. The choosing of a tree process is supposed to take time, properly reflecting the solemnity of the occasion. So we marked that tree with an arrow pointing toward it in the snow and dutifully wandered through the rows of trees, stopping to check one out here, another out there. Gary called me over to examine one he found and I, in turn, did the same, until we had three contenders, including the first one we spotted. 

We returned to the trees we had marked and gave each of them a thorough going-over. Finally, we settled on a tree that, on close examination showed signs of a bird having nested in its branches, as well as an entire dry snake skin, which seemed auspicious to us. I accept that these "signs" may have been the exact things to turn someone else off, but that's okay with me. I fully embrace our eccentricities... most of the time.

Having made our decision, Gary and I spoke words of gratitude and sprinkled a dusting of corn meal before taking out the saw and cutting our chosen Christmas tree down. (This is a ritual we were taught to show respect for the life of the tree.) I was able to carry it out of the field on my own, leaving Gary free to carry the saw and cornmeal, and slip ahead of me to open the car. Once home, it was a surprisingly simple matter to find the stand and settle the tree into its new home. 

"That almost felt too easy," Gary said.

"Yeah, it seems strange, doesn't it?" I replied, pouring water into the stand.

We both smiled contentedly, breathing in the sharp scent of pine, happy that it was beginning to feel a little more like Christmas. Content also, with the thought that, despite the challenges that are so rampant in the world today, maybe life doesn't have to be a struggle. Maybe some things can be as easy as finding the perfectly imperfect Christmas Tree.

 

NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month, which takes place in November each year. The challenge is to write 50,000 words in the course of one month. This works out to 1,667 words per day for each of November's 30 days. 

At first I didn't really think NaNoWriMo had anything to do with me. I am not a novelist, for starters, but the folks who organize the event are great at making everyone who likes to write in any form feel welcome. They even held a virtual memoir writing camp this summer, which I did not attend, but the idea of it brought home the thought that I could participate this November and write whatever my heart drew me toward. So I did.

I have been wanting to write my memoir for at least 25 years, and I have managed to jot down ideas and even entire essays over the course of that time. However, this all felt disjointed. There was no clear flow to the writing, no underlying theme. I was not sure how to organize my memories and the stories that accompany them into some kind of coherent whole. 

When this year's NaNoWriMo approached, I decided that I would use the month as a springboard for the project. My intention was to focus on a different memory each day, beginning with my earliest ones and going as far as the thirty days would take me. I knew I needed a theme, and after trying and discarding several possible concepts, I settled on "Connections". I figured that this could reflect my connections with Spirit, with the natural world, with family, with friends, with myself, even. It seemed broad enough as well as specific enough to work as a framework on which to build.

November is over, and with it the challenge that I accepted of writing 50,000 words, a day at a time. I am happy to report that I did it! Some days in particular were difficult for me to take time out for writing. Thanksgiving, with its attendant activities of cooking, celebrating with friends and family, travel, etcetera, features in there. And it comes close to the home stretch, so that puts a bit of pressure on, to keep up your word count so you don't have a word mountain to climb during the last few days.

As a way of celebrating the fact that I successfully rose to the challenge, I decided to print out my month's worth of words. They totaled 50,212 words, and filled up 204 pages. Carefully wrapping the pages to protect them from the rain and from being jostled into chaos, I brought them to Staples and had them bound. Mostly I did this to see what it looked like, and how it felt to have something physical to
show for my efforts. Even though I know it is a draft, and a rough one at that, it surprised me how good it feels to hold that book in my hands. 

All of this reminded me of how important it is to just get started on whatever it is that your heart is calling you to do. I am hopeful that this message will continue to draw me forward into the life I imagine.

Where Does the Time Go?

 

Time is such a slippery element of our lives. When I was working, somehow I accomplished everything necessary at home while also managing to carry on a full time job. Now that I am retired, I often get to the end of a day and find myself wondering, "what just happened here!?" The days pass weirdly slowly, but in what should be the opposite, they also go by in a blur, with less accomplished than I had hoped for at their dawning.

A few weeks ago my sister called to ask if Gary and I wanted to join them for a long weekend in the Finger Lakes. Sue and Mike wanted to check out some of the many wineries in the area, and had found a cabin on Cayuga Lake that had a beach for swimming as well as paddle boards and kayaks that we could use to explore the lake. My gut response was, "Oh no, we can't do that. It is coming up too fast. We don't have time enough to plan." But I took a breath, as I am learning to do thanks to several years of mindfulness practice, and asked myself, "well, why not?"

A week later, having made arrangements for our cats to be cared for in our absence, we loaded up the car and took off for the adventure.

What amazed me about those days was that there seemed to be enough time to reconnect in a meaningful way with my sister and her husband, as well as to relax and enjoy the cabin and lake. We sat on the dock to watch the sunrise, sang songs around the campfire with the folks at the cabin next door, we paddle boarded north one day and south the next, and swam for a while when we were hot and tired. We even saw a golden eagle when we were paddling, and a brilliant rainbow stretching from the sky down to the other shore after a storm. Somehow we also had plenty of time to hike to a waterfall in one of the famous gorges, and took in more than six wineries, breweries, or distilleries over the course of our time there.

When we got back home, I was slightly bewildered by all of the exceptionally fun things we managed to accomplish in such a brief time. "How did time stretch so far?" I don't have an answer, but maybe it has something to do with truly being present in each moment as best we could. All I do know is that I am going to keep practicing. Maybe I'll get even better at it, and learn how to stretch out the rest of my life in some amazing ways?

Be Here Now

 

There is such a profusion of beauty in the natural world. The other day Gary and I took a hike on Endless Brook Trail, which is near our home in Vermont. We came upon these flowers at the beginning of the trail. They arrested my attention, as the person who planted and tends them was most likely hoping they would, and I am grateful for that. All too often I plunge from one thing to the next, checking things off of my "To Do" list as I turn my attention to the next thing on said list.

These flowers stopped me in my tracks (tracks that were heading rather quickly and single-mindedly to the summit of the trail), and I am glad they did. They reminded me that it is not just the summit that is of value. The means by which we get to the goal of our climb matters too. In this case, the trail itself and everything it contained was worth noticing. For instance, the name of the trail comes from the brook that runs along it for awhile. The water goes underground for long stretches and then pops up again so it seems to be endless.

As a result of slowing down, Gary and I took in the beauty of these flowers and all of the bees, butterflies and other insects who were visiting them as well. A little further on, we saw a frog in the pond, well-camouflaged among the lily pads he was resting on. Every few steps along the trail, mushrooms of various wild colors caught our attention. They ranged in hue from pale white to yellow, from orange to bright red, and from the tiniest perceptible dot to saucer-size platters scattered among the leaves, roots and ferns.

Of course, we did reach the lookout at the top of the hill after a good while climbing, and the view was nice to take in. Gary and I sat on a fallen tree in what little shade we could find and munched on snacks of walnuts and red grapes along with sips of refreshing water as we looked out over Lake Saint Catherine. Far below we saw boats circling lazily, and above them, some raptors cruising the skies.

On the way down, I stopped at the stream and took off my shoes, sitting with the water as it moved by, and watched the play of sunlight reflected from the water onto the bank across from me. Small fish swam near me, checking out my toes while some curious water creatures who looked like sticks with wiry appendages moved with jerks across the sandy bottom.

Ram Dass is known for his philosophy and book titled "Be Here Now". It is a phrase that I thought I understood when I was first introduced to it, but my earliest impression was just scratching the surface of its possible meanings. I like to think I am getting better at truly understanding it as time goes on. Days like this one, when I can reflect on so many small, interesting and beautiful things that captured my attention tell me I just might be getting closer to not just comprehending what it means to Be Here Now, but actually living it.

Resilience Lessons from Ducklings

I am on Monhegan Island in Maine for a couple of weeks. It is a place Gary and I have spent time for the past ten years, finding here a sense of respite and calm that soothes my soul. Mostly what I do here is sit on rocks or cliffs, and watch the ocean and her inhabitants go about their lives.

Yesterday, I was sitting in a place called Gull Cove, on rocks pretty near the shoreline. What looked like a floating log appeared on the water moving toward shore, but as it got closer, I realized that it was actually not a log at all, but rather a mother duck and her long line of progeny following closely behind. As they moved into the cove, the little ones started attempting to tip forward putting their bills under the water, desperately trying to capture a bite of something yummy. The problem was, that they were so buoyant they kept bobbing back up to the surface, often with quite a bit of force and a big splash!

The mother duck led them up to the very top edge of a rock where they started jostling for position. As they each tried to get themselves settled on the rock’s ridge line, they kept bumping into one another, and inevitably one or two of the little balls of fluff tumbled down the side of the rather large rock. The first time this happened, I gasped, worried that the little ones who had lost their place in the line-up would be hurt or worse, but as soon as they stopped rolling, they righted themselves and started climbing right back up to the top of the rock.

Soon, the ducklings were lined up in a row along the edge of the rock, happily nestled next to one another. Calm reigned for a little while.

It was not very long before the mother decided it was time to get up and move again. As soon as she climbed off the rock, her little ones followed, a line of fluff balls waddling and tumbling down into the water. As they paddled around in the cove, they started practicing their bobbing again, dipping their little bills in the water, and amazingly soon, actually diving down under water where they stayed for longer than I thought possible. Somehow, in the course of a very little amount of time, they had figured out how to stay under water long enough to achieve their goal of finding some delectable snack. Maybe it was that period of rest that allowed their little duck minds to open up to the next lesson?

I sat on the edge of the cove for more than an hour, watching the ducks until the mothers began to lead them out into the deeper waters of the ocean. Waves washed over them, scattering the ducklings every which way. I worried that some of them would be lost in the fray, but eventually mother and babies were reunited beyond the roughest waves and they set off to their next destination.

Reflecting on what I had seen, I was struck by the resilience and resolve of those little ducklings. No more than a ball of fluff, each of them had a fierce determination to accomplish every new task. It didn’t matter if they bobbed to the surface when they tried to dive, they just kept at it until they figured out how to manage the mechanics. It didn’t matter if they got knocked off the rock by a restless sibling, they just got their feet under them and climbed up again. 

I know that we humans have far more tasks that we need to accomplish in order to achieve competence and adulthood, but I think we can learn from our fluffy companions that a little resilience and a whole lot of resolve goes a long way. If we think we can, then chances are, we can!

Mud Season Blues

Photo by Gary Lindorff

This in-between season is one of the toughest ones for many of us who live in the Northeast. We know that spring is coming, but winter is not quite done with us yet. There are tantalizing days when the sun shines brilliantly in a crisp blue sky, but when you walk out the door, the freezing temperatures shock the breath out of your lungs. Then there are days when the winds are warm and invite you to take a stroll down one of the trails in the woods, only to sink into mud that threatens to pull the boot right off your foot. 

I live on a dirt road, so driving during mud season is particularly fraught. It can feel as if your vehicle is being taken over by some alien being that grabs your wheels, jerking you this way and that. Staying on the road can be quite a challenge! The ruts are sometimes deep enough that smaller cars have to be abandoned for a couple of days until someone can deliver a load of gravel and make our road passable again. My Subaru can usually negotiate the mud, but there have been a few times when I had to leave it behind and hike home.

I am pretty tired of mud season already, and there is no guarantee of when it will be over. But there is one sweet glimmer of joy that makes its way into our lives this time of year along with the mud, and that is sugaring season. The conditions that make the mud so ubiquitous are the very same ones that make the maple sap flow. Warm days and freezing cold nights. When the conditions are right you can see and smell the sweet vapors rising out of sugaring sheds as the carefully collected sap is boiled down into delicious maple syrup. 

Photo by Meredith Pratt

Anticipating this treat takes the edge off of the frustrations that accompany mud season for many of us. Even if you don't have much of a sweet tooth, it is nice to sample the wares of local maple sugar producers. Before coming to Vermont I didn't give much thought to the difference between light fancy and dark rich grades of syrup, but an early spring taste test can be enlightening. To take a break from the mundanities of mud season, you could try sugar on snow or one of the wide variety of baked goods to be found at a maple festival in one of Vermont's small towns. If you are feeling particularly ambitious, you could try a cup of tea or coffee brewed with maple sap collected from a back yard tree. 

A little maple syrup may not cure you of the mud season blues, but it is a nice respite for sure.

Photo by Ethan Pratt

 

The Wisdom of Bluebirds

                                                                ~Photo by June Schulte

My friend June took this photo of a Bluebird who was doing his best to deal with below-zero temperatures. When you live in Vermont and it is winter time, your options for keeping warm are limited. Recently, when the temperatures dipped well below freezing, this little guy perched on a branch above a heated bird bath for the duration. Puffing his feathers out, he created as much insulation from the cold as he could muster. 

I have been spending a lot of time with Florida's birds, none of whom seem to have any trouble accepting the warm and sometimes hot weather down here. Being so close to water most of the time, they can easily dip in and cool off if that is their desire. The ocean breezes help to keep things comfortable as well, for birds and for us.

This got me to thinking about how we protect ourselves from the extremes that challenge us - extremely hot or cold weather, emotional ups and downs, and more painfully, the tragedies that sometimes touch our lives. How do we insulate ourselves so that we have the protection we need? How do we ensure that we are not thrown too far off balance by the challenges that come our way?

Sometimes I wish I was like this little Bluebird and could puff up my feathers to create a soft cushion around me. Seeing him got me to thinking about what we humans can do for ourselves when the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" whiz around our ears. What stands in the place of fluffy feathers for us?

Companionship is possibly the strongest protection we have. Family, friends, companion animals, co-workers, other folks who know something about what we are facing. Each of these offers support to us when we need it, and each offers different kinds of accompaniment, depending on their particular gifts and on our relationship with them. Some are good listeners, others offer deep wisdom, some are active and get us moving when we need that, while others are good cozy company when we need to curl up for awhile. 

For me, companionship also comes in the mysterious form of the Holy. Call this God, Spirit, All-That-Is - whatever strikes a chord with your own inner knowing. Even after years of ministering, and of praying my way through a humbling array of crises, the Holy shows up in my life, my mind and my heart in a wide variety of ways. Even now, a simple name does not manage to wrap this Presence up for me in any kind of authentic way. But I know I am held in this Holy Presence, always.

Quite some time ago when I was going through a rough patch, a dear friend guided me to imagine myself surrounded by rose colored light, she described it as an egg-shaped rose quartz. This was meant to provide protection from any outside elements that challenged me and also to be a source of strength so that I could face those challenges with courage. It helped, so I return to this practice whenever I feel the need for a little extra protection, a little extra courage. 

When I surround myself with this light, I feel the presence of all of my companions in life - the mysterious presence of God, Spirit, All-That-Is and the earthier presence of dear family and friends. In this way, I feel held in Love. As I get ready to take whatever step seems the next right thing to do, I am held in Love. If I need to curl up and sit tight for a while as the sweet Bluebird in this picture is doing, I can do that with a sense of peace. Knowing that no matter what, the love of family, friends and the Holy surrounds me now and always, gently guiding me, never judging, always holding me close.