Musings

For Such a Time as This

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

In the past decade, I have often thought of Uncle Mordecai’s advice to his niece Queen Esther. I paraphrase: “Who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”

And here, thousands of years later, are we, in the generations following the horrors of World War II and the Holocaust. Here are we, who have been raised on the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien and his vision of the smallest and most vulnerable-seeming ones taking up the hardest task simply because it was laid on their shoulders. Our books and movies have been filled with people (often teenagers) taking stands against tyranny, fascism, Imperialism, oppression, and cruelty.

We’ve been primed and educated for the coming days.

Here are some of the things I am telling myself:
1. Limit your news intake to a few trusted sources.
2. Unplug as much as possible, especially from the dire and angsty and shrill.
3. Post and share images and stories–actual and fictional–of people resisting Empire.
4. Watch the inauguration or don’t watch the inauguration–do what your heart needs and don’t apologize to anyone for the choice you feel is right for you to make.
5. Differentiate between thoughtful satire and unkind snark.
6. At least, don’t punch down. Punch up. And keep it classy.
7. Express your feelings.
8. Listen to others expressing their feelings. Don’t minimize or explain them away.
9. Commiserate without contributing to negativity and panic.
10. Keep reaching out to your friends. Keep checking in on your friends.
11. Build larger and larger circles of community so no single person has to have the burden of holding you together when you fall apart.
12. In a time of destruction, create things.
13. In a time of cruelty, be inexplicably kind.
14. In a time of rampant lies, speak truth from your heart, and honor integrity.
15. Who do you admire? Emulate them.
16. Breathe, and breathe, and breathe. Stretch and breathe.
17. Use your power and privilege to shield and protect those with less.
18. Stand in the gap.
19. What are you willing to put on the line for others?
20. Do not let your voice be silenced.
21. Do not give money a voice.
22. stay grounded. Every day, meditate or pray or make a magic spell that goodness and peace will prevail.

Gratitude List:
1. Such a beautiful snowstorm (hmmm-I accidentally write snowstory, and I want to make that an official word, please)
2. So many circles of dedicated souls ready to stand up and speak out
3. Tea
4. I have finally found a tool that is helping me with task initiation and task completion. I am feeling so satisfied, and much more full of energy
5. Great horned owls calling through the darkness last night.
May we walk in Beauty!

“Things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” —Pema Chödrön

“How will we ever reconcile with those from whom we feel so estranged? How will we forgive the wrongs we believe have been done? How will we be able to trust one another again? Those are the kinds of profound questions that many of us need to have answers to…but the hurts are so new, the pain so fresh, we are not sure when or how we will ever come to a point of healing. To be honest, I do not have answers to any of these questions, not right now, but that does not trouble me. Why? Because I know, over time, the Spirit will bring us to the answers we need. She will show us paths to healing we never imagined. I am confident she will slowly guide us to wholeness in a manner that is most just and most empowering for us. Therefore, I do not feel anxious about how I will forgive or rushed into relationships I am not ready to embrace. I may not be able to trust others yet, but I do trust the Spirit, and that is enough for now. I will follow where she leads and when she leads, knowing that what I cannot comprehend now, I will understand later.” —Steven Charleston, 2021

“The artist deals with what cannot be said in words.
The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words.
Words can be used thus paradoxically because they have, along with a semiotic usage, a symbolic or metaphoric usage. (They also have a sound—a fact the linguistic positivists take no interest in . A sentence or paragraph is like a chord or harmonic sequence in music: its meaning may be more clearly understood by the attentive ear, even though it is read in silence, than by the attentive intellect.)” —Ursula LeGuin

“Keep walking, though there’s no place to get to.
Don’t try to see through the distances.
That’s not for human beings.
Move within, but don’t move the way fear
Makes you move.” —by Rumi (Barks)

“I think pleasure is really the gateway to feeling connected and inspired.” —Dreamwork with Toko-pa

“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
―Mary Oliver

“Now is the time to resist the slightest extension in the boundaries of what is right and just. Now is the time to speak up and to wear as a badge of honor the opprobrium of bigots.” —Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

“Our lives are a partnership with Spirit. We can choose to be active in this partnership or passive. We can opt out at any time, but we can also increase our involvement. We can grow, change and learn. We can do more good than we ever imagined possible. The key is in the relationship we have with our partner.” —Steven Charleston, 2025

“A common woman is as common as a common loaf of bread, and will rise.” —Judy Grahn

“The plan, a memory of the future, tries on reality to see if it fits.” —Laurence Gonzalez

“I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing that like being for the first time see, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The flood of fire abated, but I’m still spending the power. Gradually the lights went out in the cedar, the colors died, the cells un-flamed and disappeared. I was still ringing.” —Annie Dillard

“When you walk a path you love, there is something deeper calling you forward on it, like a beautiful question that can never be answered.” —Toko-pa Turner

“A well-read woman is a dangerous creature.”
―Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“Our only hope today lies in our ability to recapture the revolutionary spirit and go out into a sometimes hostile world declaring eternal hostility to poverty, racism, and militarism” —Martin Luther King Jr.

“Courage is an inner resolution to go forward despite obstacles.
Cowardice is submissive surrender to circumstances.
Courage breeds creativity; Cowardice represses fear and is mastered by it.
Cowardice asks the question, is it safe?
Expediency asks the question, is it politic?
Vanity asks the question, is it popular?
But conscience asks the question, is it right? And there comes a time when we must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but one must take it because it is right.”
—Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

“We are all silent witnesses to the drama of our own lives. We see behind the curtains. We know the origin of our story, the characters who fill its pages, and the main events that have carried us over perilous seas to where we find ourselves today. Only a small fraction of this saga ever gets told, even around the firelight of family, but we keep it in our hearts the way books were once written by hand. The story lives within us and finds its completion through us. We carry it forward in sacred procession, not knowing when our own role will end, but bound by faith to take our part for as long as love allows.” —Steven Charleston

“How will we ever reconcile with those from whom we feel so estranged? How will we forgive the wrongs we believe have been done? How will we be able to trust one another again? Those are the kinds of profound questions that many of us need to have answers to…but the hurts are so new, the pain so fresh, we are not sure when or how we will ever come to a point of healing. To be honest, I do not have answers to any of these questions, not right now, but that does not trouble me. Why? Because I know, over time, the Spirit will bring us to the answers we need. She will show us paths to healing we never imagined. I am confident she will slowly guide us to wholeness in a manner that is most just and most empowering for us. Therefore, I do not feel anxious about how I will forgive or rushed into relationships I am not ready to embrace. I may not be able to trust others yet, but I do trust the Spirit, and that is enough for now. I will follow where she leads and when she leads, knowing that what I cannot comprehend now, I will understand later.” —Steven Charleston

Dreaming

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

In the dream, I find five tiny creatures, all rodent-like. They’re all different species, and all at different stages of development, but they’re all extremely vulnerable, and need someone to take care of them. I am afraid even to pick up the smallest ones, because they’re so tiny, I am afraid the pressure of my fingers will harm them.

I find a terrarium-type of container, and I am really gratified to see them eating and drinking, even the tiniest one, which is like a tiny ball of fuzz. Even so, I am uncertain whether the littlest ones can possibly survive.

The scene shifts, and I am checking on the tiny creatures the following day. Today, however, they are frogs. In the way of dreams, they’re the same creatures, but frogs. One of the older ones is swimming in the water on its back, cradling the tiniest one in its arms. The others have all grown, and they’re looking healthy and satisfied. Even as frogs, it’s clear that they’re different species. I am incredibly relieved that they’re going to survive, and amazed that they are taking care of each other.

I used to have dreams about taking care of lost kittens or gerbils or hamsters that kept getting away and into danger. This one was very like those, but with the difference that there was a resolution of their safety at the end.

I’ve been using a new motivational app the past week (called Finch). It’s been so much more effective than my various methods of to-do lists that always seem to get lost or ignored. I feel like the tiny animals are about the tasks and goals I set for myself. Finally, for the first time in a long time, I am feeling like I have the focus and energy to manage the basic details.

I was hesitant to try it because it felt like just one more thing to do, and nothing else seemed to work to motivate me or give me energy, and why would adding one more thing be helpful? Somehow, this particular thing helps to motivate me in ways other systems have not. The app is very game-like, giving energy to a little bird every time I complete a task. I’ve begun to feel very tenderly about my own vulnerable little learning self as I tend to the needs of this little creature by keeping up with my tasks. No wonder my dreamlife is giving me tiny creatures to nurture.

Awaken Me to Love

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

I’m going to finish this visual series on Epiphany or the day after. I realize that daily accountable disciplines keep me working creatively, even (especially) when my energy is low, like now. They tell me that a time comes when you walk through the other side of this stage of Menopause, and the energy returns, and the daily aches are a little less intense. I’m trying to eat and to move my body in ways that help that process along. In the meantime, I’m focusing on getting my work done, and on keeping alive daily disciplines that will feed my creativity.

Soon, the #100DayProject will begin, and I am hoping to join that in order to keep some creative discipline alive. Sometimes I feel like I’m choosing between the words and the crafty creativity, so I’m hatching a project that will use both.

Rages and Imperfections

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

The phrase for today’s image is one of the steps I’m working on in my current novena. I’ve taken it from the Ereshkigal card in The Goddess on Earth Oracle by Lisa Levart.

I took this photo of part of a painting in the dentist’s office. Is it the way in, or the way out?

I usually choose five words or phrases or archetypes or ideas for each novena, for my focus during each decade of the daily rosary. For this novena, I chose five random cards from The Goddess on Earth Oracle, and they flow beautifully from one to the next:

  1. Alligator: Primal Instincts
  2. Ereshkigal: Accept rage and imperfection
  3. Aphrodite: Awaken to Love
  4. Arianrhod: Live Large
  5. Guabancex: Stand in your power

In the center is the Owl: Knowledge, who is also Wisdom and Truth

Bibliomancy, Trial and Error

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / 2 Comments

My friend Eryn said she found her word for the year through bibliomancy, where you open a book, point your finger to a random spot on the page, and that’s your word.

Excited to try it, I opened my new book that I got for Christmas, Sophie Strand’s Madonna Secret, and pointed to. . .frightened. Nope. Try again. I pointed to. . .denying. Nope again. Third try is the charm, they say: Braver. Now I like that one. It feels process-oriented, not Brave, once and done, a state accomplished. But Braver, as in, “Today I can be a little Braver than I was yesterday.” Every day is just a little Braver than the last.

And it answers those first two words. Frightened? In denial? Be a little Braver. You don’t have to be Brave, just a little Braver than you were before.

It seems my New Year dreams are trying to tell me something about living in the space between wildness and domesticity.

At first, I am rescuing four half feral kittens (who all clearly needed vet visits–one was shaking with a tremor) from a basement in which a sinkhole has opened up. I have to actually pull one falling kitten up out of the hole by its tail. (That feels so awful, but I know in the moment that it is the only thing I can do.) Then I have to carry them through a dark confusing city using a GPS that takes me through a hospital emergency room, to get them to a safe place, where it will be my job to get them medical treatment and to tame them so they don’t get into trouble again.

The second dream fragment I remember, I am walking down a hill in a rural area outside of a small village or town, and my friend who has glorious curly red hair is riding her bike up the hill past me. We are passing beautiful community gardens–not separate plots, but cooperatively farmed and tended gardens, with careful rows, and wooden structures, and even some arbors to protect plants that shouldn’t get direct sun. Without stopping her bike my friend calls out, “Hey! Make sure you check out the black fox kits!”

I look down the rows and into the little spaces created at the ends of the rows, but I cann’t find the kits. But as I am looking down one long row, at the end, I see a beautiful vixen, a gray fox, almost coyote, she is so big. She is blinking in the sun, and I see how tentative and timid she is, clearly staying away from the people working down the rows, and yet this is clearly her place too. So while it isn’t friendly interaction between people and fox, it is coexistence in what appears to be a healthy and symbiotic way.

My spiritual path, my inner work, has focused on me breaking out of the boxes of heterodoxy, exploring the wildlands beyond dogma and creed. This dream feels like it’s asking me to protect the ways in which the wildness seeps back into the gardens.

I’m curious that it was two distinct dreams, but joined by the theme of wildness and domesticity, and kits and kittens. The kittens needed to be handled and tamed, and the fox kits needed to stay safely hidden. Maybe my dreams are about discernment.

Annunciation

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

Today was my day to write for the Way of the Rose Annunciation Novena:
THE ANNUNCIATION NOVENA
Day 5, Sorrowful Mysteries

There’s something so inexorable about living.
One thing happens, and then the next,
chain reaction following chain reaction,
and one domino topples, so the whole damn line
just cascades, one thing after another,
until it’s all a pile of rubble on the floor.

You hear the rumble of thunder,
lightning strikes the tower,
and before you can think what to do,
it’s all just tumbling down around you,
crumbling to dust and ashes.
Sometimes it just feels as if all life does
is happen TO you, you know?

And yet, sometimes right there in the pile of debris,
among the wreck and the ruins,
in the quiet moment when the dust
is settling through shafts of light
falling all around you,
or sometimes it happens in the dew-bright garden
when every possibility seems to be in bud,
or in the roar of traffic when you are on your way
from hither to yon, just trying to keep up:
sometimes you can hear the Angel’s voice, asking

“Will you carry the light?
Will you carry and share
the mystery of seed and egg and birthing star?
Will you be the hands and feet of something
beyond your current kenning?
Will you use your heart, your strength, your cunning,
help to make the new thing within you,
in the service of Love?”

I keep forgetting that I get to choose,
that even between the crazy race and the cascade,
even in the dawn garden, even in the rubble,
I can choose when and how I participate,
how I collaborate with life to co-create
a destiny beyond my imagining.
No longer is it simply that I am made for this moment,
but I make myself for this moment,
and for the next, and for the next.

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” —Mary Oliver

“Everything is held together with stories. That is all that is holding us together, stories and compassion.” —Barry Lopez

“With every action, comment, conversation, we have the choice to invite Heaven or Hell to Earth.” —Rob Bell

“Do not grow old, no matter how long you live. Never cease to stand like curious children before the Great Mystery into which we were born.” ―Albert Einstein

“Love will find you, wherever you are. It will seek you out in the most hidden places of your heart. It will search the crowded cities and walk the empty hours after midnight. It will overcome any obstacle placed before it, even those you create for yourself, to find you and to bring you its gift. No matter how far from love you feel you have drifted, it will never give up on you. Love is the Spirit, watchful and persistent, enduring and forgiving, the steady presence of a reassurance that will keep you safe whatever chance may bring you. If you are a believer, then believe this: love will always find you.” —Steven Charleston

“I have lived on the lip
of insanity, wanting to know reasons,
knocking on a door. It opens.
I’ve been knocking from the inside.” ―Rumi

“How monotonous our speaking becomes when we speak only to ourselves! And how insulting to the other beings – to foraging black bears and twisted old cypresses – that no longer sense us talking to them, but only about them, as though they were not present in our world.

Small wonder that rivers and forests no longer compel our focus or our fierce devotion. For we talk about such entities only behind their backs, as though they were not participant in our lives.
Yet if we no longer call out to the moon slipping between the clouds, or whisper to the spider setting the silken struts of her web, well, then the numerous powers of this world will no longer address us – and if they still try, we will not likely hear them.”
―David Abram, Becoming Animal: An Earthly Cosmology

In the Sufi way of seeing it, longing is a divine inclination, drawing us towards the Beloved. Just as lover and beloved long to be in each other’s arms, so too is it between us and the life which is meant for us. Like a plant growing towards the sun, longing is nature inclining us towards the light we need in order to be fruitful. But also, as Rumi writes, “that which you seek is seeking you.” So longing is not only the quality of seeking reunion, but the sound of something in search of us: the calling homeward.” —Toko-pa Turner

“Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky.” —Kahlil Gibran

“I believe dignity emerges in the way you finally carry your own story. Through your painstaking reframes to write yourself as the heroine of your own life, your losses cease to consume you. They are not forgotten or made invisible, but rather aggrandised in your telling, eventually passed down through the line of mothers and daughters as the mythical ‘obstacles to flight’ that they were. But dignity also lives in one’s willingness to step wholly into a new life of love, even as its first strands are being woven together to create a shape that will warm you.” ―Toko-pa Turner

Sunday Morning Prayer

hope
like a seed
buried deep within the earth; hidden
covered by layers, disappointment, struggle, pain;
buried yet stretching,
growing and becoming.
hope
like a seed
becoming new life.

—Katherine Hawker

First Lesson of Poeming

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

Today is the last day of November’s Poem-a-Day. As always at this point, I am ready to be free of the daily discipline of poeming for a little while. And today was long, filled with beauty and good family time celebrating the life of my Aunt Gloria, and many hours on the road. So I’m happy to finish the poem process today.

Tomorrow, however, I will begin a new series, suggested by the Advent materials we received at church last week. Every day for the next 25, we have been given a word (one each day) to meditate on and to illustrate with a photograph. So I might post some or all of those here.

Here is today’s poem:
First Lesson of Poeming
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

Grasp the idea, I mean the corncob,
firmly, but not so firmly
that you harm the tender kernels inside,
and pull it firmly, but ever so gently,
downward and away from the stalk.

Holding it in your palm
like the golden treasure it is,
begin to pull away the layers of husk.
Some people tear the husk down
in two or three neat strokes,
but you should take your time,
noticing the way
the tough and weathered outer husk
gives way to tender green beneath,
the way the silk shifts with each layer you remove,
the grass-sweet corn smell released,
and finally, the rows of sweet kernels,
golden and waiting.

Gratitude List:
1. Cousins and aunts and uncles
2. Aunt Gloria’s wise words: “Go with the flow.”
3. Cousin Karen’s wise words: “Stay curious.”
4. Traveling with my parents to the Shenandoah Valley, on a golden day.
5. Cherry Delight
May we walk in Beauty!

“I don’t always feel like I belong, or like I understand the unwritten rules of certain groups, even though I think I am a pretty good observer of human nature. So when I am in a group whose rules accept everyone’s awkwardness and oddness unconditionally, which loves each one not in spite of our oddities, but because of them, then I feel safe. Then I feel belonging. I am especially grateful to those of you who know how to extend unconditional welcome in ways that make everyone believe they belong.” —Beth Weaver-Kreider

“To wantonly destroy a living species is to silence forever a divine voice. Our primary need for the various life forms of the planet is a psychic, rather than a physical, need.” —Thomas Berry

“All through your life, the most precious experiences seemed to vanish. Transience turns everything to air. You look behind and see no sign even of a yesterday that was so intense. Yet in truth, nothing ever disappears, nothing is lost. Everything that happens to us in the world passes into us. It all becomes part of the inner temple of the soul and it can never be lost. This is the art of the soul: to harvest your deeper life from all the seasons of your experience. This is probably why the soul never surfaces fully. The intimacy and tenderness of its light would blind us. We continue in our days to wander between the shadowing and the brightening, while all the time a more subtle brightness sustains us. If we could but realize the sureness around us, we would be much more courageous in our lives. The frames of anxiety that keep us caged would dissolve. We would live the life we love and in that way, day by day, free our future from the weight of regret.” —John O’Donohue

“The next time you go out in the world, you might try this practice: directing your attention to people—in their cars, on the sidewalk, talking on their cell phones—just wish for them all to be happy and well. Without knowing anything about them, they can become very real, by regarding each of them personally and rejoicing in the comforts and pleasures that come their way. Each of us has this soft spot: a capacity for love and tenderness. But if we don’t encourage it, we can get pretty stubborn about remaining sour.” —Pema Chodrun, From her book Becoming Bodhisattvas

“Quiet the mind enough
so it is the heart
that gives the prayer.”
—Ingrid Goff-Maidoff

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” —Martin Luther King Jr.

“People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.” —Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

“Creative acts of social justice constitute life’s highest performance art.” —Rebecca Alban Hoffberger

“If you will, you can become all flame.” —Abba Joseph

“Become all shadow.
Become all light.”
—Beth Weaver-Kreider

“You cannot use someone else’s fire; you can only use your own. And in order to do that, you must first be willing to believe you have it.” —Audre Lorde

“The first duty of love is to listen.”
—Paul Tillich

“Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is one element of faith. The opposite of faith is certainty.”
—Paul Tillich

“When you go to your place of prayer, don’t try to think too much or manufacture feelings or sensations. Don’t worry about what words you should say or what posture you should take. It’s not about you or what you do. Simply allow Love to look at you—and trust what God sees! God just keeps looking at you and loving you center to center. ” —Richard Rohr

“People with a psychological need to believe in marvels are no more prejudiced and gullible than people with a psychological need not to believe in marvels.” —Charles Fort

“O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in’t.” —Shakespeare, The Tempest

Grounding

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

Today’s poem is a grounding liturgy. Reading David Steindl-Rast’s little poem “May You Grow Still” the other day, I felt myself returning to my morning’s grounding, growing still, finding center.  I’ve begun using those beginning words in my own daily grounding.

Grounding
by Beth Weaver-Kreider
(after David Steindl-Rast)

Draw in a long slow breath.
Pause.
Slowly release your breath.

May you grow still enough
to feel the Earth beneath you
call forth your roots to burrow deep.

Draw in another breath and pause.
Release your breath and listen:

May you grow still enough
to feel your roots push through soil
through mycelium
past bones and underwater rivers.

Draw in another breath and pause.
Release your breath and listen:

May you grow stiller yet and feel
the pulsing starfire
at the center of the Earth.

Draw in another breath and pause.
Release your breath and listen:

May your stillness bring home to her heart
where you feel your roots absorb
her fierce and tender fire.

Breathe in and listen.

May you feel that fire rising into your roots,
drawing courage into the seat of your being,
drawing love into the center of your being,
drawing truth into the crown of your being.

Breathing in and out.

Feel the energy of Earth’s fire fill you to your branches
and burst from the crown of your head,
sparkling above you and around you
like a thousand thousand stars.
Feel the life force pulsing through you.

Breathe, and breathe, and breathe.

“Healing comes in waves and maybe today the wave hits the rocks. And that’s ok, that’s ok, darling. You are still healing, you are still healing.” —Ijeoma Umebinyuo
*****
“I hope you live without the need to dominate, and without the need to be dominated. I hope you are never victims, but I hope you have no power over other people. And when you fail, and are defeated, and in pain, and in the dark, then I hope you will remember that darkness is your country, where you live, where no wars are fought and no wars are won, but where the future is. Our roots are in the dark; the earth is our country. Why did we look up for blessing — instead of around, and down? What hope we have lies there. Not in the sky full of orbiting spy-eyes and weaponry, but in the earth we have looked down upon. Not from above, but from below. Not in the light that blinds, but in the dark that nourishes, where human beings grow human souls.” —Ursula K. Le Guin, A Left-Handed Commencement Address (Mills College, 1983)
*****
“No matter where we are, the ground between us will always be sacred ground.“ —Fr. Henri Nouwen
*****
“The truest art I would strive for in any work would be to give the page the same qualities as earth: weather would land on it harshly; light would elucidate the most difficult truths; wind would sweep away obtuse padding.” —Gretel Ehrlich
*****
“‪The fact that these words and the jumble of lines that create their letters has no real, inherent meaning outside of a human context, yet they hum with life, is a wonderful reminder that what we imagine can easily become real and powerful simply because we decide it should be so.‬” —Jarod K. Anderson, The Cryptonaturalist
*****
“Writing at the library. Surrounded by thousands of books, windows into other minds. Some of these writers are living. Some are not. Neatly ordered rectangles of concentrated human life and intellect. A book is certainly a kind of ghost and libraries are pleasantly haunted places.” —Jarod K. Anderson, The Cryptonaturalist
*****
“The beauty of the world…has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.” —Virginia Woolf
*****
I know nothing, except what everyone knows —
If there when Grace dances, I should dance.
—W.H. Auden
*****
“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic—the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.”
—Charles de Lint
*****
“The innocence of our childhood lives on, in each one of us, no matter how old or battered we may be. Still that original goodness, that simple goodness, remains within us. Our best nature never grows old. What the Spirit first intended us to be is still there, peeping out from wrinkled eyes, caught in a quick glance in the mirror: the laughing, shining, curious child who lives again. And again and again. For we are made of the intention of heaven, a part of the perfect life at the center of all creation. Watch for your inner self, the ageless soul, and see it smiling back at you, like a little child caught beside the cookie jar.” —Steven Charleston

Love, Laughter, and Mourning

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

Even as I celebrate a deeply enriching and inspiring day of conversation and play and good food with my family, I want to also acknowledge that today is a Day of Mourning for Native Nations. The link in the previous sentence will take you to a MCUSA page with brief descriptions of some of the November massacres by US forces against Native communities that took place in the late 1800s, along with some resources for ways to educate ourselves and our communities, and to respond in helpful ways.

I tried coaxing a collaborative poem out of some of my family members gathered around a puzzle this afternoon, but we had trouble keeping focused enough to finish a thought, so my nibling Keri suggested we do an acrostic. The Old Woman of Winter had made an appearance in the first attempt, so I wrote CRONE OF WINTER down the side of the page and asked them to give me words or phrases beginning with the letters. We ended up sticking to words, and this is what happened, and I like it.

Gratitude List:
1. The thoughtful and wise and tender and hilarious conversations around the table and the puzzle and the living room today. It appears that perhaps the members of the family with the strongest executive functioning skills are under the age of 22.
2. Pie. So much pie.
3. The Turkey Trot! I walked a lot more of this one, but came within a minute of my PR last spring at the Race Against Racism.
4. Bald Eagle flying over Codorus Creek
5. The healing properties of laughter
May we walk in Beauty!

“There are no shortcuts to wholeness. The only way to become whole is to put our arms lovingly around everything we’ve shown ourselves to be: self-serving and generous, spiteful and compassionate, cowardly and courageous, treacherous and trustworthy. We must be able to say to ourselves and to the world at large, ‘I am all of the above.’” —Parker Palmer

Solace is your job now.”
—Jan Richardson

“I have noticed when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing – their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling ~ their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses. To sit alone without electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights, then I start thinking about projects, demands, deadlines, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to be done, not a background to thought.” —Jeanette Winterson

Joy Harjo:
“When I woke up from a forty-year sleep, it was by a song. I could hear the drums in the village. I felt the sweat of ancestors in each palm. The singers were singing the world into place, even as it continued to fall apart. They were making songs to turn hatred into love.”

“The history of an oppressed people is hidden in the lies and the agreed myth of its conquerors.”
―Meridel Le Sueur

“I never want to lose the story-loving child within me, or the adolescent, or the young woman, or the middle-aged one, because all together they help me to be fully alive on this journey, and show me that I must be willing to go where it takes me, even through the valley of the shadow.”
―Madeleine L’Engle

“Alas, the webs are torn down, the spinners stomped out. But the forest smiles. Deep in her nooks and crevices she feels the spinners and the harmony of their web. We will dream our way to them …

…Carefully, we feel our way through the folds of darkness. Since our right and left eyes are virtually useless, other senses become our eyes. The roll of a pebble, the breath of dew-cooled pines, a startled flutter in a nearby bush magnify the vast silence of the forest. Wind and stream are the murmering current of time, taking us back to where poetry is sung and danced and lived. … In the distance a fire flickers – not running wild, but contained, like a candle. The spinners.” —Marylou Awiakta, Selu: Seeking the Corn-Mother’s Wisdom

“Do it right, because you only got one time to walk this earth. Make it good, make it a good thing.” —Grandmother Agnes “Taowhywee” (Morning Star) Baker Pilgrim (1924-2019)

“Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.” —Robert Frost

“I believe war is a weapon of persons with personal power, that is to say, the power to reason, the power to persuade, from a position of morality and integrity ; and that to go to war with an enemy who is weaker than you is to admit you possess no resources within yourself to bring to bear on your fated.” —Alice Walker

“The fault dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in our selves.” —Cassius, from ‘Julius Caesar’ by William Shakespeare

“Let your love be like the misty rain, coming softly, but flooding the River.” —Proverb

“Perhaps too much sanity may be madness.” —from ‘Don Quixote’ by Cervantes

Now Is the Time

/ Beth Weaver-Kreider / Leave a comment

I’ve been feeling like it’s been a good month, poetry-wise, this time around. I am often more consistently disappointed and uninspired by the output of a poem-a-day. I do this not because I think I will end up with thirty excellent poems, but in the hopes that I’ll get one or two that satisfy me. Ray Bradbury suggests that you write a short story every week for a year, because it’s impossible to write 52 bad short stories in a row, and I think it’s impossible to write thirty bad poems in a row. This month has given me more than one that I like so far. Today’s is lacking in energy, but I might revisit the theme again and rewrite it.

Now Is the Time
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

Now is the time for web-building,
nest-making, mycelial connection.

Now is the time for shoring up
our courage, for remembering
who we are, and why we’re here.

Now is the time for listening,
for receiving our names,
for calling in the ancestors
for dreaming ourselves into the dream.

Now the time we were made for,
the time to enter all the tales
we learned in every book we’ve read,
where brave children enter the wood,
and uncertain heroes take up the quest.

Good advice from my friend Barb: “Find and wear your orange hat honey. There are 750,000 deer hunters in the yard today.”

“You have done infinitely more good than you can imagine. You may not be a worker of miracles, but you are a worker of compassion. Your kindness is reflexive. You instinctively want to help others in need. Like a first responder: you have the stamina it takes to help someone and it shows up throughout the story of your life. You have done more good than you know.” —Steven Charleston

This year I do not want
The dark to leave me.
I need its wrap
Of silent stillness,
Its cloak
Of long lasting embrace.
Too much light
Has pulled me away
from the chamber
of gestation.
Let the dawns
Come late,
Let the sunsets
Arrive early,
Let the evenings
Extend themselves
While I lean into
The abyss of my being.
Let me lie in the cave
Of my soul,
For too much light
Blinds me,
Steals the source
Of revelation.
Let me seek solace
In the empty places
Of winter’s passage,
Those vast dark nights
That never fail to shelter me.
-Joyce Rupp

“We have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. We have all loved someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. it is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, I think, to be an organ and a blade. But, learning to forgive ourselves and others because we have not chosen wisely is what makes us most human. We make horrible mistakes. It’s how we learn. We breathe love. It’s how we learn. And it is inevitable.”
—Nayyira Waheed

“Only those who attempt the absurd
will achieve the impossible.”
—M. C. Escher

Blessing for the Visitor
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

May you who wander, who sojourn, who travel,
may you who make your way to our door
find rest for your tired feet and weary heart,
food to fill your bellies and to nourish your minds,
and company to bring you cheer and inspiration.
May you find comfort for your sorrows,
belonging to ease your loneliness,
and laughter to bring you alive.

And when your feet find themselves again upon the road,
may they remember the way back to our door.

“A seed sown in the soil makes us one with the Earth. It makes us realize that we are the Earth. That this body of ours is the panchabhuta—the five elements that make the universe and make our bodies. The simple act of sowing a seed, saving a seed, planting a seed, harvesting a crop for a seed is bringing back this memory-this timeless memory of our oneness with the Earth and the creative universe. There’s nothing that gives me deeper joy than the work of protecting the diversity and the freedom of the seed.” —Vandana Shiva

“I’m fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in.” —George McGovern