I didn’t have time to write this morning before I left for work. Gratitudes: 1. Last night, we saw a bat flying between the barn and the sycamore tree. Bats are some of my favorite people. 2. Tonight on our walk, we saw a frog on the road. When I reached to try to move it from the road, it suddenly zig-zagged between my legs and off toward the creek. 3. Working in the Herb Room today. I might be an airy-fairy sanguine personality and a fiery Leo birth sign, and have a special affinity for Mama Ocean, but when it comes to herbs, the things that gets me most excited is the roots. Earth seems to be my medicine: roots and stones. 4. Kittens! Have I mentioned the kittens? I love little kittens. And their mama. 5. Cucumbers. They’re refreshing.
May we walk in Beauty!
“We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.” ―Dietrich Bonhoeffer
“You say you care about the poor? Then tell me, what are their names?” —Gustavo Gutierrez
Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” —Roald Dahl
History, despite its wrenching pain, Cannot be unlived, but if faced With courage, need not be lived again. —Maya Angelou
“Doors closing, doors opening. Doors closing, doors I’m opening. I am safe. It’s only change. I am safe. It’s only change.” —chant (I don’t know the author)
Vine and branch we’re connected in this world of sound and echo, figure and shadow, the leaves contingent, roots pushing against earth. An apple belongs to itself, to stem and tree, to air that claims it, then ground. Connections balance, each motion changes another. Precarious, hanging together, we don’t know what our lives support, and we touch in the least shift of breathing. Each holy thing is borrowed. Everything depends. —Jeanne Lohmann, ‘Shaking the Tree’
Parker Palmer: “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.” If we can’t embrace the whole of who we are—embrace it with transformative love—we’ll imprison the creative energies hidden in our own shadows and flee from the world’s complex mix of shadow and light.”
“It’s your place in the world; it’s your life. Go on and do all you can with it, and make it the life you want to live.” —Mae Jemison
“Strength,”a two-part redacted poem. I’ve really been enjoying working with Reader’s Digest Condensed Books. In fact, if I publish these, I think I might have to use that as the name of the collection. I wonder if that would be a problem.
Today’s Gratitude: 1. Getting back to a project I was dreading. I think two or three more days of work might get me finished with the scraping of the paint. Then we have to decide on the new color. 2. Kittens! We’re pretty dogmatic about not letting cats reproduce for the good of the whole cat-tribe, so the children have never had the experience of raising kittens. Since a local stray had kittens in the barn, we have had the pleasure of gently taming her, and now watching kittens grow. 3. All the local places to hike and bike.
Walk in Beauty!
“…Labour is blossoming or dancing where The body is not bruised to pleasure soul, Nor beauty born out of its own despair, Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil. O chestnut tree, great rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole? O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?” —William Butler Yeats, 1926
“The Gospel takes away our right forever, to discriminate between the deserving and the undeserving poor.” —Dorothy Day
“Silence is the beginning of God purifying the soul.” —St. Basil the Great
“Once social change begins, it cannot be reversed. You cannot un-educate the person who has learned to read. You cannot humiliate the person who feels pride. You cannot oppress the people who are not afraid anymore.” —Cesar Chavez
“What a long time it can take to become the person one has always been! How often in the process we mask ourselves in faces that are not our own. How much dissolving and shaking of ego we must endure before we discover our deep identity—the true self within every human being that is the seed of authentic vocation.” —Parker Palmer
“I am afraid to drive the demons from my life lest the angels also flee.” —Rainer Maria Rilke
“What’s the greatest lesson a woman can learn? That since day one, she’s already had everything she needs within herself. It’s the world that’s convinced her she did not.” —Rupi Kaur
“Choosing authenticity and worthiness is an absolute act of resistance. Choosing to live and love with our whole hearts is an act of defiance. You’re going to confuse, piss off, and terrify lots of people, including yourself. One minute you’ll pray that the transformation stops, and the next minute you’ll pray that it never ends. You’ll also wonder how you can feel so brave and so afraid at the same time.” ―Brene Brown
“Sacred activism is the fusion of the mystic’s passion for God with the activist’s passion for justice―creating a third fire, which is the burning sacred heart that longs to help, preserve, and nurture every living thing. ” ―Andrew Harvey
“What’s lost is nothing to what’s found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup.” ―Frederick Buechner
“Listen to the night as it makes itself hollow.” ―Rainer Maria Rilke
Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over it and whispers, “Grow, grow.” ―The Talmud
“If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path.” ―Joseph Campbell
“Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” ―Elie Wiesel
“The seduction in the wake of betrayal is to take up a thicker armour, to practice at expecting less of others, or to punish one’s own naïveté. But these are the same refusals from which our world is dying. Never should a judgement be made against one’s willingness to open the heart.” ―Dreamwork with Toko-pa
“I’m so lucky we lived through who we were to become who we are.” ―Neil Hillborn
By the time I got to the end of the second sentence, and saw the words “friend” and “Nazi” in successive lines, it suddenly became impossible for me to search out any other phrase than “Nazi friend” to end the poem, but the order was transposed. Sometimes people use arrows to make such a puzzle work. I decided to get out my little knife.
I woke up this morning with this phrase in my head: “Hymns to The Unknown Civilization.” I might have to create some sort of poetry/art project with that title.
You know that feeling when you wake up, and the cobweb of a dream is still clinging to your consciousness? I always try to maintain that dreamlike consciousness while I stumble downstairs so it stays fresh enough to write down. The dream flotsam offers myriad gifts. Sometimes it’s a stark image floating in my mind’s eye, asking me to look and consider and contemplate. I especially love when it’s word or a song. Sometimes the phrase is so surreal that I can’t weave it into the meaning of daytime reality and I just enjoy its oddness, its quirky presence in my day. Other times, I feel like there are distinct and specific messages in the words and images and stories that appear at the ends of dreamtime.
Gratitude: The sounds of my walk yesterday: Greetings with friendly neighbors, the horses making that blustery horsey sigh, Barb’s goats calling greetings from up the hillside, bird twitterings in the trees, the deep glugging of the bullfrogs in the pond. Earlier, as I was riding my bike on the rail trail, I heard the wood thrushes calling across the path to each other.
May we walk in Beauty!
“If only we arrange our life in accordance with the principle which tells us that we must always trust in the difficult, then what now appears to us as the most alien will become our most intimate and trusted experience. How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.” —Rainer Maria Rilke
“A woman must be willing to burn hot, burn with passion, burn with words, with ideas, with desire for whatever it is that she truly loves.” —Clarissa Pinkola Estes
“Water is life’s matter and matrix, mother and medium. There is no life without water.” —Albert Szent-Gyorgyi
“I can’t offer justice so I offer just trees.” —Kilian Schoenberger (who photographs trees and woods)
Dalai Lama: “There are only two days of the year in which nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow. That means today is the ideal day to love, to believe, to create and to live.”
“We cannot assume the sacredness nor spiritual livingness of the earth or accept it as a new ideology or as a sentimentally pleasing idea. We must experience that life and sacredness, if it is there, in relationship to our own and to that ultimate mystery we call God. We must experience it in our lives, in our practice, in the flesh of our cultural creativity. We must allow it to shape us, as great spiritual ideas have always shaped those who entertain them, and not expect that we can simply use the image of Gaia to meet emotional, religious, political, or even commercial needs without allowing it to transform us in unexpected and radical ways. The spirituality of the earth is more than a slogan. It is an invitation to initiation, to the death of what we have been and the birth of something new.” —David Spangler
Rob Brezsny reflects on Fuller and Socrates: “You never change things by fighting the existing reality,” wrote Buckminster Fuller. “To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.”
Socrates said something similar: “The secret of change is to focus your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”
Are they right? Or should we instead focus on unleashing our apocalyptic rage at the corruption and decay of the dying order?
Gratitude: It turns out that the feral tortoiseshell bobtail cat in the neighborhood is a female. Yesterday, we watched her in the front drive and yard. When we opened the door and called to her, she startled and moved off toward the barn, but then stopped and looked back. I suppose I am reading too much into it, but it sure did seem that she was asking us to follow. Josiah did, and discovered the box in the barn where she’d gone to nurse her three ginger bobtail babies.
This kid is loving the idea of taming a cat and kittens this summer. We’ll be looking for homes, of course. Oddly, a friend of mine has been asking me to help her find a kitten or kittens, and here they suddenly are. We’re hoping to be able to catch Mathilda (Joss has named her) by the time the kittens are old enough for families of their own, so she can at least be fixed.
May we walk in Tenderness and Beauty!
“You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.” ―Pema Chödrön
“Morning is the best of all times in the garden. The sun is not yet hot. Sweet vapors rise from the earth. Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten. Birds call to one another. Bees are already at work.” —William Longgood
“Elsewhere the world may be blustering or sleeping, wars are fought, people live and die, some nations disintegrate, while others are born, soon to be swallowed up in turn—and in all this sound and fury, amidst eruptions and undertows, while the world goes its merry way, bursts into flames, tears itself apart and is reborn: human life continues to throb. So, let us drink a cup of tea.” —Muriel Barbery, “The Elegance of the Hedgehog”
“There is ecstasy in paying attention.” —Anne Lamott
“Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.” —Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Here is an Interdependence Day piece I wrote a few years ago. For years, I felt uncomfortable on July 4th because I believed we had broken our ideals and our pact of humanity and equality, but now I realize that we never truly lived up to them. Some days, I still hope that we can become the Good Force that we have sort of thought we were. I recognize that this is a painful conversation for some of my beloveds, that to question the root truth of the nation that you have given your lives and your families to feels like a terrible betrayal. I only ask that you consider that the whole idea of the nation has been a terrible betrayal for those we enslaved since before we even became a nation, and for those who lived here in the Before, who were decimated and tortured, whose land we stole in order to make a nation at all. *** I recognize that today is the United States independence day. It’s always crunchy for me.
I don’t celebrate war and war “victories.” I don’t celebrate a freedom that was borne on the backs of slaves. I don’t celebrate the genocide that wiped out, marginalized and impoverished the people of the first nations. I don’t celebrate a freedom that ignores our slave-owning and genocidal history to proclaim us all-good and all-powerful, evidence to the contrary. I don’t celebrate the increasing calls to close us off, to keep out those who seek sanctuary in our borders. I don’t celebrate throwing candy to the rich while grabbing bread from the poor. I don’t celebrate the rush to destroy this beautiful part of the Earth, to call her gifts “resources” that must be maximized and used until she is played out. I don’t celebrate the fear-mongering that I see, the use of fear to keep people in their places, afraid of each other, afraid of their own freedom. I don’t celebrate “America First.” I struggle to celebrate when the country itself is in crisis, when those who were chosen to administer our ship of state have instead chosen to rule like the king we thought we had freed ourselves from those centuries ago.
I can celebrate human community. I can celebrate the spirit that longs to break the bonds of tyranny for all peoples. I can celebrate the spirit of that statue that stands in our harbor, her lamp held high in welcome for all who seek refuge. I can celebrate the strong spirit of resistance to tyranny that continues to pull people to demand rights for ALL of us. I can celebrate the beautiful diversity of us, and the way we find connecting points, the way we so willingly wear each others’ stories. I can celebrate the music, the foodways, the arts, the dialects, the histories, of us in all our many colors and shades and tones and temperaments. I can celebrate inTERdependence. I can celebrate the hope that we will stand up to the greed-mongers and the fear-mongers and the hate-mongers, that we will work to create a nation where all can be free, where all can expect justice.
Gratitude, today, for the awakeners, for the story-sharers, for the truth-speakers, for the one who walk into the fire, for the ones willing to change and to make change.
May we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly in Beauty!
“If you want to awaken all of humanity, then awaken all of yourself. If you want to eliminate the suffering in the world, then eliminate all that is dark and negative in yourself. Truly, the greatest gift you have to give is that of your own self-transformation.” ―Lao Tzu
“The heart is the house of empathy whose door opens when we receive the pain of others. This is where bravery lives, where we’ll find our mettle to give and receive, to love and be loved, to stand in the center of uncertainty with strength, not fear, understanding this is all there is. The heart is the path to wisdom because it dares to be vulnerable in the presence of power.” —Terry Tempest Williams
“You are something that the Whole Universe is doing, in the same way that a wave is something that the Whole Ocean is doing…” ―Alan Watts
“You are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly, more dearly than the spoken word can tell.” —Roger Whittaker
“It’s a matter of discipline. When you’ve finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend to your planet.” —Antoine de Saint-Exupery in “The Little Prince”
“To cope with losing our world requires us to descend through the anger into mourning and sadness, not speedily bypass them to jump onto the optimism bandwagon or escape into indifference. And with this deepening, an extended caring and gratitude may open us to what is still here, and finally, to acting accordingly.” —Per Espen Stoknes
. . .if truth is to be taught, then teaching and learning must take the shape of truth itself–a community of faithful relationships. Education in truth must bring teacher and student into troth with each other, into the very image of the truth it hopes to convey.” —Parker J. Palmer
“No matter what they ever do to us, we must always act for the love of our people and the earth. We must not react out of hatred against those who have no sense.” ― John Trudell
“I celebrate independence anywhere it happens. The question here is how. When a diversity of peoples is destroyed or diminished in a holocaust of outrageous proportions for independence, does this truly result in liberty, justice and freedom for all? In a few generations indigenous peoples of America have been reduced to one-half of one percent. Imagine Africa with one-half of one percent Africans. We have been essentially disappeared in the story of America. Our massive libraries of knowledge, rich cultural and intellectual gifts have been disparaged, destroyed and broken by interloper religions and a hierarchical system of thought in which indigenous people exist only as savages. What then does this say about liberty and justice in this country?
“For healing the wound needs to be opened, purged and cleansed. Our stories need to be allowed. Our traditional ways and languages need to be honored. This country needs to apologize and reparations must be made. We all need to come together, every one of us to make a true plan for liberty and justice for all. As long as indigenous peoples are disappeared and disparaged, or surface only in Hollywood movies like The Lone Ranger, this country will remain as a child without parents, who has no sense of earth, history or spirituality.” —Joy Harjo
For the past few years, I’ve been working in this book I found a few years ago. My found poems were pretty limp and predictable. I think novels offer better variety for found poems.
Here’s a poem from 2017:
We Bleed by Beth Weaver-Kreider
Indeed, Mr. President, we bleed. There is blood coming out of our ears, blood coming out of our noses, blood coming out of our eyes, blood coming out of our wherevers. There is blood coming out of our faces, our faces lifted long in anger, our faces we have raised in rage.
We bleed, you see. We bleed. We bleed, and yet we do not die. Blood pours from our angry eyes. Blood flows from our vaginas (there’s the real word for it, if you would care to know. We’ll take it back, if you please– and even if you don’t).
Women’s blood is our revolution. We’re bleeding rivers of blood, the blood of life and death– menstrual blood, flowing from our red tents, flowing down the river valleys of this nation to where you sulk and natter in your great white house.
Your mother, too, gave her blood to these rivers, when she gave you birth. And your wives gave their blood to bring children to life.
Our blood flows down the wide and gentle Susquehanna, down Columbia, Patuxent, down Delaware and Myakka, down the Dan, the Mississippi, the Arkansas, and Conestoga, down the Flat, the Tar, the Eno, down the gentle Shenandoah, down the Snake, the Hoh, the Wabash, and the blue Atchafalaya.
Our menstrual blood is running in the deep, deep waters of the Deep, down the Wissahickon, down the Schuylkill, Neuse, and Monoshone, down the Cape Fear, down the Waccamaw, and down the Olentangy, down Santa Ynez, French Broad, the Roanoke, Missouri, down the Guadalupe, Anacostia, Blackwater, and the Pee Dee, down Yadkin, Catawba, Nantahala, and Clatskanie.
Our blood courses down our grand unwalled Rio Grande, down the Pullayup, Colorado, down Kanawha and Snohomish down the fiery Cuyahoga, down the Brazos, and Skokomish, down the Nooksack, the Nisqually, the Pecos, the Sammamish, down Sciota, down Ohio, the Snoqualmie, and Duwamish. We bleed down the chemical-drenched waters of the New, and the Red, red as our blood, down the Elkhart and Potomac.
Even from Elsewhere, our rivers are everywhere: the Moselle, the Mara, the Danube, the Afton, the Nile. Our blood flows down rivers to the White House where you tweet and twitter on your golden bed, to the halls of power where dried up old white men, withered husks with no blood of their own, think that they decide our futures.
We write with our blood on the Earth. We write, “Revolution!” We write, “Resist!” We write, “Now you have struck the women, you have struck a rock. Now you have entered a river.”
With our own blood, we write, “We will not be trivialized. nor delegitimized by insults of an overgrown illbred bully-child.
Yes, we bleed, Mr. President, and our bleeding will overwhelm your smug and violent ramblings. We bleed from our faces, our vaginas, our wherevers, and you will be washed in the rivers of our blood. And justice will roll like the rivers we bleed.
Gratitude List: 1. The companionship of cats 2. Gentle morning birdsong 3. Finding poetry 4. Laughing with the family 5. This little air conditioner
May we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly in Beauty!
“The best way for us to cultivate fearlessness in our daughters and other young women is by example. If they see their mothers and other women in their lives going forward despite fear, they’ll know it is possible.” —Gloria Steinem
“It is time for women to stop being politely angry.” —Leymah Gbowee
“The heart is the house of empathy whose door opens when we receive the pain of others. This is where bravery lives, where we’ll find our mettle to give and receive, to love and be loved, to stand in the center of uncertainty with strength, not fear, understanding this is all there is. The heart is the path to wisdom because it dares to be vulnerable in the presence of power.” —Terry Tempest Williams
“The heart that breaks open can hold the whole universe. Your heart is that large. Trust it. Keep breathing.” —Joanna Macy
“Peace is not something you must hope for in the future. It is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for it in the present, you will never find it.” —Thomas Merton
“To stay with a broken heart, with a rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get revenge—that is the path of true awakening. Sticking with that uncertainty, getting the knack of relaxing in the midst of chaos, learning not to panic—this is the spiritual path.” —Pema Chödrön
From Joy Harjo— “Note to self today: Do not feed the monsters. Monsters are those thought threads that denigrate and disrespect self and others. Some are wandering thought forms, looking for a place to land and live. Some are sent to you deliberately or inadvertently. They can come from arrows or gossip, jealousy or envy. Or from just. . .thoughtlessness. Instead, have a party. Invite your helpers to the table. Give them something to do. They want to be helpful. And just celebrate. Feed the birds.
Second note: A positive mind makes a light slippery surface and anything not of it, slides off.”
“Sometimes we must surrender our own will for the greater good to come through. We are called to make ourselves vulnerable for a time, without answers, sacrificing our priorities to perceive more mythic goals. The word sacrifice is not, as we’ve been taught, synonymous with suffering, but comes from the root ‘to make sacred.’ We take a step outside of time, renouncing our urgency, giving up our plans and allow ourselves to be danced, to be sung, to be told like a story in its most vulnerable arc.” —Dreamwork with Toko-pa
“Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month, or a year, it is the struggle of a lifetime. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.” —John Lewis
I keep seeing the faces of that couple standing in iconic pantomime on their lawn with their guns. He has the white-man deadpan I’m-in-control thing going on on his face. Don’t tread on me, or on my precious grass. Don’t let the Black people come too close to my massive white palazzo.
Her face is a lot harder to interpret. Is it anger? Is it fear? Her mouth has the petulant cast I have seen on children who are trying to convince you of their fierceness. She seems to be play-acting, her hand on the trigger of her little chrome-plated pistol, her eyes darting around. Is she dangerous? Or comical? Or pathetic? Or tragically sad? Why am I so obsessed with figuring her out?
I think it’s because she is a caricature of a caricature of something that is also me. Her angry/pathetic/frightened stance there on her lawn is the ultimate caricature of the Karen–the entitled white woman who uses her social power and connections to white patriarchal power to raise her own personal power. She’s the semi-comic (and terribly dangerous) end result of the remora of white female attachment to the shark of white male power, drawing a sense of strength and protection from her connection to the perceived most-powerful agent in room. She calls the police. She calls the manager. She notifies security. She feels unsafe. She feels ridiculed. She feels powerless. So she pulls the strings of white patriarchy to increase her own sense of empowerment.
In Ms. McCloskey’s case, that shark was pretty indiscriminate, pointing his machine gun at her on his way to aim at the protesters he claimed were about to burn down his home and happiness. That’s a whole other issue to unpack–the Karens are really only marginally more safe than the masses they are so desperate to separate themselves from, the black and brown people they would disempower in order to increase their own social standing. The shark has its own agenda at all times and no one is safe if his power is threatened (as it is in these times of change and transformation).
I like to deny that I have any Karen in me. I don’t remember a time when #smashtheatriarchy hasn’t been my rallying cry. I want to completely destroy the power of the patriarchy–in religion, in politics, in economic systems, in governance, in relationships. I think that is necessary in order to create a just future. Still, I cannot deny that my life has been privileged by the threads that connect me to white patriarchal systems. And those systems try to demand allegiance from those who benefit at any point up and down the power structure. I may not be explicitly accepting those connections or “calling the manager,” but I benefit in myriad implicit ways simply from my perceived connections to the shark.
My work is to keep finding those threads and disconnecting them, cutting them away so they hold no power over me and my sense of belongingness and wellbeing in the world, to find ways to connect whatever threads of power are bequeathed to me by my race and culture and education to those who were bequeathed fewer of those threads but who deserve them as vitally and as certainly as I.
It’s ugly. To call myself one of them. To see that petulant set of the lips, that situating herself in the context of the patriarch’s emblems of violent maintenance of power, and say that there’s something of me in there too, in the pathetic, comic, tragic, furious face of a white woman grasping for power. Knowing that in the system she fights for, she too is expendable, that the only way she survives in the patriarchal system is to play their pantomime along with them, to do their dance.
No, of course I am not her. But yes, I am her, in some strange and twisted distant reflection. She is a caricature of a caricature of a caricature. . .that somewhere weaves very close in the tapestry to me. If I am to participate in this movement for justice for all people, for true equality, for the destruction of the white patriarchy, I need to recognize that connection and learn to face her in the hall of mirrors.
My wise and thoughtful friend Chris of Soulence has written a really powerful piece on doing this work of untangling these threads through unconditional love and doing deep inner work. She offers a grounding chakra meditation. You can find that here.
Gratitude List: 1. Working at Radiance again. It’s wonderful to spend time with Sarah and Laura, to be out in the world, to shape the sweet river grass baskets from Ghana and feel a sense of connection to the women who made these spherical containers. When I got home, I walked into the room with Josiah, and he said, “Mmmmm. You smell like Radiance again.” 2. A day ahead to sew and poem and tidy and create and cook. 3. Cucumbers are in season. I think my lunches for the next couple weeks will be cucumbers and cheese. 4. Tomorrow, time with beloveds. 5. I’m feeling a little fired up to begin designing my courses for the fall. I’m glad to get that energy now instead of on August 15.
May we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly in Beauty!
“Keep strenuously toiling along this path, do not rest until the last breath; for that last breath may yet bring the blessings from the Knower of all things.” —Rumi
“A church that does not provoke any crisis, preach a gospel that does not unsettle, proclaim a word of God that does not get under anyone’s skin or a word of God that does not touch the real sin of the society in which it is being proclaimed: what kind of gospel is that?” ―Oscar A. Romero
“Nature loves courage. You make the commitment and nature will respond to that commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is the trick. This is what all these teachers and philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, this is what they understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering its a feather bed.” ―Terence McKenna
“Nature is alive and talking to us. This is not a metaphor.” ―Terence McKenna
“And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.” —Raymond Carver
“Her imagination was by habit ridiculously active; when the door was not open, it jumped out the window.” ―Henry James
Orientation by Maya Stein
Just east of certainty. A little south of courage. A hair’s width from ease. Clicks away from ready. A turn or two from acceptance. A shuffle from faith. A set of stairs from achievement. A riverbed from happiness. A handspan from peace. A wink away from freedom. A few lines until the poem’s done. A highway, a night’s sleep, a phone call, a touch, a rotation of gears away from that certain yes that tells you where you are is exactly where you need to be. I know, the signs can look as if they’re missing, and the map so distant and unclear. But I’m telling you, you aren’t lost. You’re never lost. You’re always here.
Cloudbird. It was too big to fit in the frame, so its wings leak off the edges.
Just saying: If you don’t read the newsletters and internal memos and emails for the place you work for, and you miss something critically important, you can’t go around telling people you weren’t briefed. I mean, it’s happened to me. I’ve occasionally missed something important because I skipped over the newsletter, thinking I would come back to it later. And it was my responsibility to keep myself informed, not the responsibility of someone else to pull it out and mark it with a highlighter, and remind me to read it. And I am not the president.
With that sort of grouchy rant to start my morning, I suppose I should say something nice. 1. I’m going to work today at Radiance! That makes me happy and satisfied. 2. We thought that the things Jon planted were sort of a bust after the deer and groundhogs and storms raged through, but last evening, I harvested some wonderful zukes and cukes and beans, and Jon got a nice binful of broccoli. 3. Yesterday I took an online conference on Online Teaching, which is kind of the LAST thing I ever want to do again, but now I feel like I really might be able to do it, if it comes down to that. 4. That sky bird in the clouds last evening. 5. The people who ground me, who hold the strings when I go kiting off on a rant, who remind me to be nice.
May we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly in Beauty!
“The only thing worse than the thought it may all come tumbling down is the thought that we may go on like this forever.” ―M.T. Anderson, Feed
”I just watched a mosquito sip my blood, hover in the air like a ruby with wings, then leave the circle of my porch light for the dark trees. That’s me, that crimson speck rising like a campfire spark. My blood will feel at home in those perfect woods and my goodwill goes with it.” —Jarod K. Anderson, the Cryptonaturalist
“The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn and relearn.” —Alvin Toffler
”I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:
I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing—these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt—has to go.
Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.” —Brené Brown
“Oh, what we could be if we stopped carrying the remains of who we were.” —Tyler Knott Gregson
“The soil is the great connector of lives, the source and destination of all. It is the healer and restorer and resurrector, by which disease passes into health, age into youth, death into life. Without proper care for it we can have no community, because without proper care for it we can have no life.” —Wendell Berry
We met a fellow seeker on the paths at Sam Lewis last night.
I took an online class on Saturday morning on redacted and black-out poetry. While I have worked with this format in the past, this two-hour session really inspired me. I’ve broken through a bit of a wall in the Found Poetry realm in the past few days.
Gratitude List: 1. Finding poetry 2. Toads in the leaves 3. Going rambling with the fambly 4. Looking forward to an educational conference (online) today. I am becoming increasingly worried that Pennsylvanians’ refusal to just wear the mask will mean we have to teach online during at least part of the fall semester, and I don’t want to go into that kicking and screaming. This should provide me with strategies for teaching, no matter what happens. (And yes, that was a gratitude infected by a snarky dig.) 5.The little air conditioner. I don’t tolerate the heat/humidity nexus quite like I used to.
May we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly in Beauty!
“We live by mystery, not by explanations.” —Cecil Collins
“For we have, built into all of us, old blueprints of expectation and response; old structures of oppression, and these must be altered at the same time as we alter the living conditions which are a result of those structures. For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.
As Paulo Freire shows so well in “The Pedagogy of the Oppressed”, the true focus of revolutionary change is never merely the oppressive situations which we seek to escape, but that piece of the oppressor which is planted deep within each of us, and which knows only the oppressors’ tactics, the oppressors’ relationships.” —Audre Lorde
“Live in the center of your life.” ―Sark
“Cluster together like stars.” ―Henry Miller
“Now that you’ve awakened. . .immediately take a nap! Naps are when the angels come out to take special care of you.” ―Sark
“Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it. To deprive it of oxygen. To shame it. To mock it. With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness – and our ability to tell our own stories. Stories that are different from the ones we’re being brainwashed to believe.
The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling – their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability.
Remember this: We be many and they be few. They need us more than we need them.
Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” ―Arundhati Roy
“Every child of ours needs to learn the simple truth: She is the energy of the Sun. And we adults should organize things so her face shines with the same radiant joy.” ―Rob Brezsny
“In mythos and fairy tales, deities and other great spirits test the hearts of humans by showing up in various forms that disguise their divinity. They show up in robes, rags, silver sashes, or with muddy feet. They show up with skin dark as old wood, or in scales made of rose petal, as a frail child, as a lime-yellow old woman, as a man who cannot speak, or as an animal who can. The great powers are testing to see if humans have yet learned to recognize the greatness of soul in all its varying forms.” ―Clarissa Pinkola Estés
“A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill except to be able to grow in rows” ―Doug Larson
Every day is a new opportunity to begin again. Was yesterday harsh or difficult? Did you find yourself (like I did) complaining and grousing and expecting the worst of people? Did you miss the chance to get outdoors and breathe fresh air? Did you put more time into stuff and money than into people and ideas? Did you forget to notice the green, the birdsong, the summer cast of sunlight? Did you write or say something you wish you hadn’t? Today is a new day, a fresh slate, a blank sheet of paper. Choose your pathway with determination and lightness of heart. Begin, begin, begin again, beloved.
Grateful for the always freshness of beginnings. May we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly in Beauty!
“Always we begin again.” —St. Benedict
Thomas Merton: “There are only three stages to this work: to be a beginner, to be more of a beginner, and to be only a beginner.”
“If the Angel deigns to come it will be because you have convinced her, not by tears, but by your humble resolve to be always beginning; to be a beginner.” —Rainer Maria Rilke
“One does not ask of one who suffers: What is your country and what is your religion? One merely says: You suffer, that is enough for me.” —Louis Pasteur
“Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.” —James Bovard
“We must ask ourselves as Americans, ‘Can we really survive the worship of our own destructiveness? We do not exist in isolation. Our sense of community and compassionate intelligence must be extended to all life-forms, plants, animals, rocks, rivers, and human beings.” —Terry Tempest Williams
Jan Richardson: did you not know what the Holy One can do with dust?
“I have woven a parachute out of everything broken.” —William Stafford
“There are years that ask the question and years that answer.” —Zora Neale Hurston
“Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.” —Hafiz
“One puts down the first line. . .in trust that life and language are abundant enough to complete it.” —Wendell Berry
“Speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee.” —Job 12:8
“Sometimes the truth depends on a walk around the lake.” —Wallace Stevens
“Tell all the truth, but tell it slant.” —Emily Dickinson
“The contemplative stance is the third way. We stand in the middle, neither taking the world on from another power position nor denying it for fear of the pain it will bring. We hold the dark side of reality and the pain of the world until it transforms us, knowing that we are both complicit in the evil and can participate in wholeness and holiness.” —Richard Rohr
Clarissa Pinkola Estes on the Curanderisma healing tradition: “In this tradition a story is ‘holy,’ and it is used as medicine. The story is not told to lift you up, to make you feel better, or to entertain you, although all those things can be true. The story is meant to take the spirit into a descent to find something that is lost or missing and to bring it back to consciousness again.”
Mockingbird Chronicles 