Sublime and Cute

Tomorrow, we are going to Mennonite World Conference in Harrisburg.   I was reluctant to sign up because the abstract idea of the crowds and the planning and the getting there and all of it made me a little anxious for some reason.  But my parents are giving us a day on their passes.  Feeling lucky to get a chance to go.

Gratitude List:
1. I think Somebody handed Michelangelo the brush this evening and said, “Go to town!”  Those clouds.  That sunset. Tonight I had a brief moment of really understanding magenta.
2. Magenta wants its own number.  It looks so nice snuggling between tangerine and violet.
3. Hearing about the opening of the Mennonite World Conference in Harrisburg.  The ones who told me had tears in their eyes as they described the procession of Conestoga people who came forward and told Story: the history of European and Native interactions, the loss of land, the Paxtang Boys.  I wish I could have been there.
4. Getting my hair done.  I am upping my appointments lately–four or five a year instead of two.  I like to be pampered once in a while.
5. Watching a tiny hamster savor her first blueberry. Cuteness is sort of sublime sometimes.  I think there’s a spiritual muscle that responds to cuteness, but we trivialize it because it so often gets a schmaltzy, saccharine over-sentimentalization.  But cute draws us out of ourselves in a way similar to awe, I think.

May we walk in Beauty!

Summer Supper

Gratitude List:
1.  Corn on the cob, zucchini fritters with sour cream, and thick slabs of Mr. Slabaugh and Lemon Boy tomatoes.
2. Spiritual Practices
3. The voices of the Mystics: Hafiz and Rumi, St. Julian and St. Hildegard”
4. How writing it down helps me to understand it better
5. The little air conditioner.  Today, more than ever.

May we walk in Beauty!

Strangers No More

Gratitude List:
1. Conversation with new friends from The Netherlands.
2. The singing this morning, and the story of Menno Simons in the stagecoach.
3. Belongingness.  So often I position myself on the fringe–the happy fringe, to be sure.  Still, sometimes I step right into the middle of the muddle and proclaim myself a part of it all.  And that feels appropriate and oddly satisfying.
4. That little air conditioner.
5. Stroopwaffeln.

May we walk in Beauty!

Reading Redwall

I have been second-guessing myself a little.  I decided to read Redwall to the boys, without remembering how violent it can get.  It’s pretty intense stuff for bedtime reading.  I love the peaceful realm of Redwall and Mossflower, but the warring bits are intense, and there’s that whole holy defense bit that makes me nervous in its approximation of a just war philosophy.  On the other hand, for small children who are trying to learn to face their fears and anxieties, a tiny mouse facing up to a bully of a rat might be a good metaphor.  This afternoon, One Small Boy said, “Hey Mom.  If a Badguy came into our house, this is what I would do to it.”  And he ran forward with a series of karate-like moves.  He might bowl a Badguy over with pure cuteness, I’m thinking.  Still, I found it interesting that Badguy is “it,” like a monster or a phantom, or a floating anxiety.  I think we’ll keep reading the book, remembering to reflect on the way Matthias cares for his friends, on the Abbot’s refusal to mistreat even his enemies, on the way the mice work together.

Gratitude List:
1. Cool breeze
2. Constructing meaning
3. Reading with the boys
4. Getting to be the scholar
5. Zinnias

May we walk in Beauty!

There Was an Old Woman. . .

Gratitude List:
1. A thoughtful, fun, and hard-working farm crew.
2. Ice cream at the Shoe House.  We’ve lived within about five miles of it for 12 years, and today was the first time we stopped for ice cream.
3. Color
4. Carrots
5. Embracing change.

May we walk in Beauty!

Discussing Gnome Philosophy

This evening, we decided that the Math Gnomes are actually Element Gnomes, representing Earth, Air, Water and Fire, as well as the four operations.  The Equals Gnome has always been the Queen of the Gnomes, so that remains her character.  I was playing with a sixth gnome in a sort of shaggy green robe, and I decided to call her the Swamp Gnome, and in our Gnome Convocation this evening, the Swamp Gnome was responsible for the coming together of all the elements.  I thought this was a brilliant way to represent the spirit at the center of the circle–Swamp Gnome, the eldest of the gnomes, brings them all together.  My elder son, ever the thinker, was really uncomfortable with this: “Mom, there is no Fire in a swamp!  Swamps are really a combination of Water and Earth.”  I thought that the will-o’-the-wisp would qualify, but he said that will-o’-the-wisp is extremely rare, so it hardly gives Fire an equal place.  He’s right, of course, so I said that perhaps the Fire part of the swamp is the life force in the plants and trees, but he thinks that’s the realm of Earth, and it is a strong argument.  “And anyway,” he said, “You have the Queen over here, and she is really the center, the place where all the Elements come together.”  When did he get so wise?  And I am in awe, having spent part of my evening discussing the philosophy of the Deep Nature of Things with my son.

I feel a need of a caveat, just to make it clear: I do not always feel like a success at this parenting business.  I yell and ignore and belittle and cave in way too often.  That is one of the reasons moments like this one are so sweet–it reminds me that I can mess up regularly, but these people are going to grow into themselves despite my messy momming.

Oh, and there was this, too: He was actually playing on the iPod while the younger one and I were playing with the gnomes.  My gnomes were having a meeting, and the Queen was checking in with each of her helpers.  At one point, he stopped his game and looked over at me: “I think your gnomes are having a formal meeting, Mom, using formal language.  They probably should not be using contractions.”  Indeed.  Ahem.

DSCN8252 DSCN8227
The Queen on her throne, the Four Elements.

DSCN8225
Fred the Dragon captures the Queen.

DSCN8240 DSCN8223
All Aboard the Gnome Train, and Chicken and Mouse nests in tree.

Examen:
How did Mystery encounter you today?
In thoughtful conversation with a child on the nature of things.

What awakened you?
The breeze in the evening as the sun was setting out of Skunk Hollow.  The cool of the day.

What nudged you forward?
The singing group kith+kin, whom I just now discovered when I was looking for a version of the song “The Cool of the Day.”  Sublime.
Also, working in my classroom today.

What sits in your heart?
Satisfaction, delight, quiet care, tending the spirit, peacefulness.
Some deep sadness remains–there is always an undercurrent of deep sadness, no matter how content and joyful my own place is.  Someone is always suffering.  While I can keep that ocean of sadness outside the door most days, I know it is there, and some days it wants to be acknowledged.

What do you take deeper?
My children.  Mothering.  Preparing the space for my students.

What do you offer tomorrow?
Intention.  I will be present to my moments.

May we walk in Beauty!

 

Refining the Questions

I have been refining my questions today, and thinking about this process.   I have been reading about education in the last few weeks–about educating the intellect and the spirit and the emotions.  I realize that when I phrase questions like, “What do you feel?  What do you sense?  What do you think?”  I understand the surface meaning, but there’s a boxy feel to it.  I feel like those questions will trap my words, somehow.  I want to ask myself those questions, but they need to have a more fluid grace, an ability to slide and flow into many boxes.  These might work better.  I’m still connecting a bit to some of St. Ignatius’ questions, but sliding sideways into my own.

How have you been met by Mystery today?
Walking into the room of myself.
Exploring names for God.

What awakens you?
A golden finch flying across my path and upward into blue.

What sits in your heart?
The satisfaction and anxiety of holding vigil for people I love.  Being a watcher.
Hope.
Reverence.
Frustration at the work it took to complete an assignment today–that can build in me compassion for my students in the coming year.

What nudges you forward?
Plans, projects, art.

How will you step into tomorrow?
I will write my goals for the rest of the summer, and include play and art on the list.

May we walk in Beauty!

Burning Through

Sometimes a new thing catches me on fire, and I just have to let it burn through me, so I can see the trail it leaves, follow the glowing embers.  This poem by Mary Oliver–“Gratitude“–has taken hold of me.  First, I had to copy it, using her questions, and then I had to create my own, while still adding my own regular 5-point gratitude list at the end.  Tonight, more of my own questions.

And I am lifting my nose to sniff the air–there’s an aroma there of something lodged in my memory.  Here it is: I have been feeling compelled to call this emerging process an Examen.  I have been looking it up, and I think that perhaps it isn’t so far from the Examen of St. Ignatius.  His process, according to the Loyola Press website, is to:

1. Become aware of the presence of God.  (I like to call God the Mystery, or Love, or the Source, or Mama.)
2. Review the day with gratitude.  (That’s the part I have been working on for the past three or four years.  It has been transformative in ways I could not have predicted.)
3. Pay attention to your emotions.  (Sometimes I stop at the second step.  This is a good reminder.  Also, I think I would add, Check in with your energy, because that is part of my practice, too.)
4. Choose one feature of the day and pray from it.  (For me, the noticing is prayer, the gratitude is prayer.  Still, I get what this is about: take one thing deeper.  Oh, I do like that.)
5. Look toward tomorrow.  (Bring the past and the present and the future together in this moment.  How does the past [the work of #2] inform the present [#1, #3, #4]?  And how can the past-imbued present inform the future [#5]?)

How is the Mystery present to you?
In silence.  In the space between my breaths.  In the night sounds of crickets and peepers.

What visions brought your spirit awake?
Three crows flying above the fields into morning.
A white heron flying over the city in the afternoon heat.
The hard work of preparing an essay.
What words awakened you?
“Prophetic listening,” transformation, kairos, dialectical hermeneutics
What awakened your senses?
Rice and peas, garlic, squash, long thin green beans, broccoli, and fat slices of pink tomato with coarse salt.

What does your heart say?
There is anxiety here for friends who are suffering.
Contentment, which is sometimes better than wild joy.
I am tired.
Anticipation.
New ideas flitting through the rooms of my brain excite and exhaust me.

What goes deeper?
I am one spider on this humming web,
surveying the movement from strand to strand.
We all weave and spin together,
no longer simply waiting for the Morai
to measure and cut, but being ourselves the spiders,
tending the web, minding the movement.

Where does this go tomorrow?
Tomorrow is a clearing day–
get things accomplished.

May we walk in Beauty!

Inner Examination

Inner Examination, a la Mary Oliver’s “Gratitude”:

What brought you joy?
Community, family, hiking in the woods.

What did you learn?
That words of peace lose their meaning when the writer is violent.

What did you see?
Queen Anne’s lace, chicory, and day lilies.

What was your work?
To sing, to watch, to breathe, to pray, to walk, to play.

What was sublime?
The tender cod with oranges and tomatoes.

What did you appreciate?
Stories of earnestness, intention, and powerful dialogue.

What makes you anxious?
Time: I feel it racing by.

For what are you grateful?
1. Spiders: they remind me to hold my place in the web
2. Birdsong
3. Mulberry/Strawberry/Cranberry Juice smoothies
4. Sleep
5. Imaginings. . .

May we walk in Beauty!

Following Mary Oliver

Recently I read Mary Oliver’s poem “Gratitude.”  I am going to use her format–though not intentionally as a poem–tonight for my own list.  It pushes me beyond my standard five-part format.  Perhaps I’ll keep working with this, maybe making up my own questions.

Gratitude:
What did you notice?
The tang of tomato and the crunch of green beans.

What did you hear?
The sweet chipping of the little rusty-capped sparrows.
The mockingbird, irrepressible, in the  dead chestnut tree.

What did you admire?
The regal red of the cardinal.

What astonished you?
The ten spikes on the abdomen of the spiny orb weaver.

What would you like to see again?
The bright black eyes of the jumping spider, watching me.

What was most tender?
The half-smile on a small boy’s face as he wished me luck before a game.

What was most wonderful?
Being in the breezes.

May we walk in Beauty!