When I am an old woman

Several years ago, I participated in a women's group that was given a writing assignment.  We were handed a piece of paper, folded in half.  The front page had a picture of a woman standing by a small lake, feeding ducks.  At the bottom of the page are the words "When I am an old woman . . ."
At the top of the 2nd page are the words "I'll be. . ."
and I wrote: "the one the younger women, yes, even young girls, will turn to.  I will love having their company.  We'll drink tea or lemonade - they can tell me their dreams and I'll tell them mine.  I will cherish each moment we share - and when they leave to go on their way - I'll smile and sigh of big sigh - now I can go put my feet up and watch a football game."
At the top of the 3rd page are the words "I'll do . . ."
and I wrote: "the little things for the children that their parents are too busy to do - read a story, color in the cloring book with them, listen to them intently, as if they matter, because they DO!
At the top of the 4th page are the words "I'll have . . .
And I wrote: "more words to speak out against injustice - more silence to hear the song of the wind - more love in my heart to give away - and memories of my life as a woman.  Glory be!  A woman's life!

The idea for this project came from that most phenomenal book "At the Root of This Longing" by Carol Lee Flinders.  If you haven't read it, promise yourself, actually, take an oath, make a vow, that you will read it before the end of January 2010!

And now, dear and beloved readers, what will you do when you are an old woman?

The beat goes on . . .

I don't want to use this blog as an outlet for my pent-up frustration at the legislative process and yet I am so frustrated, so angry, so disappointed, so . . . well, just plain mad!  I just don't understand how one man, one Senator, can wreck such havoc on the welfare of the country.  He whines, he moans, he cries "Victim" and on and on it goes and what does he get for it?  Everything he wants!  What the . . . . ! ! !
'Nough said!
So now, in light of the season of Light, and nearing the time for the Winter Solstice, I am reminded of times when I was in the company of women who reveled in ritual - who celebrated ceremony - who acknowledged and embraced our bodies and their mysterious and miraculous connection to the Earth.  I miss them, those amazing women!  Two of them are still friends and for that and for them, I am "Thank you!"
I have wrapped all the Christmas presents and have them ready for bows to be applied once our Christmas celebration time arrives.  I think I already told you it won't be until January 3rd as two of our families will be out of town on Christmas with other families.  I still need to pick up a couple of "money-cards"; other than that, it is all taken care of as far as I am concerned.  My daughter Ann spoke of baking sugar cookies, magic squares and . . . oh, nuts, I can't think of the name of the cookies right now - chocolate cookies that are rolled into balls and then covered with powdered sugar so when they bake they look spackled.  Well, anyway, they are chewy and good!  I am delighted that she is carrying on a tradition that we followed when my children were young - seated around the dinette table - each with his/her own batch of sprinkles, etc.  Oh, such precious, precious memories!  That's really what this whole Holiday Season is about, huh?  Memories!  Sweet, sweet memories!
And for them and for you, dear readers, I say
Thanks for it all!

Showers of blessing

A soft rain has been falling for hours now and, as I look out my window at the trees, I can just imagine how grateful they are for the moisture that will eventually find its way into the earth to offer sustenance for the tap roots that connect them firmly to their source.  Oh, to have that kind of patience, that kind of trust, that kind of willingness just to be - just to be - without striving, pushing, wondering, fussing about or generally just digging up and up and up the seeds just planted to see if, by any chance, they have taken root yet.  Aren't we humans something or other? ? ? 
Speaking of seeds, reminds me of the time I was privileged to hear Sr. Joan Chittister speak at a local Orange County venue.  Her talk was filled with wisdom and humor and love - and the one sentence that has stayed with me ever since:  "It's not the seed's job to see the flower".  Whenever I think that perhaps my efforts toward any end are not bearing any noticeable fruit, I think of her profound words.
"It's not the seed's job to see the flower"! ! !
Thank you!
Thanks for it all!

Oops!

I was in the midst of re-reading the post I had composed for this morning when all of a sudden, my screen went blank.  Of course, it was the "update" function and I knew it was going to happen - I just didn't realize I had used several minutes of time letting my fingers write what was in my heart.
So, as I was saying . . .  One of the conversations I overhead at my exercise venue yesterday had to do with the idea of "keep Christ in Christmas".  I am sure you have heard similar remarks, or at least I assume you have.  When someone says "Happy Holidays" to me, I don't have a sense that she is forgetting the originations of the day - I assume it is a way of reaching out, acknowledging my presence and expressing friendliness.  I also believe that those words acknowledge that we are all different - not all the same - not everyone believes the same - not everyone worships the same - not everyone worships at all, for goodness sake.  So, please, dear readers, let us accept the wishes of this season, however they are expressed, with an open heart and an acknowledgement that truly, we are all in this together!
My heart hopes that your heart is having a really great day!
And. . . thanks for it all!

Family ties; family trees

I had a remarkable afternoon, yesterday, spending time with my nephew, Ken, who is an historian of the finest kind.  I make that statement with some bias, to be sure and yet what makes Ken so unique and special is that he is passionate about the story that lies underneath the facts.  He shared with me history from my mother's - his grandmother's - father's life that were just amazing.  He has developed all kinds of resources and networks that he can tap into to check on names, dates, addresses, occupations, births, draft status, etc.  I knew he was/is a gifted intellect; I just didn't have such a clear picture of his passion for the narrative.  Bless you, Ken - for the gift you are giving to all of our extended family.  Thank you!
The mountains of Southern California are snow-dusted (well, more than dust, thank you very much!) this morning and the air is crisp and clear.  How Nature does bestow her love upon us all - keeping us moist and washing out the sky, washing down the trees, roofs, streets and of course, bringing much needed water to the places where ducks and geese can swim and . . . well, I am just so grateful to have my eyes opened to see, and my heart opened to receive, the love that bestows itself upon us every moment of every day.
Last Sunday's talks at Common Ground (yes, talks - two ministers, two talks each service) concentrated on the truth that no matter how much we give love, if we don't have the capacity to receive love in return, pretty soon our love well runs dry.  And, of course, one of the most obvious ways to receive love is to look at the world around us.  And, oh, how much I do love you - Earth - and how you do show me how you love me!
Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!
Thanks for it all!

December 7th

I don't know how many of you dear readers, remember the actual day of 12/7/41.  I do.  And one of my most enduring memories is of going to the produce section of the grocery store and seeing the signs that said "We are Japanese-Americans".  I can only imagine how painful that day must have been to them - and, even worse, how awful it must have been to be rounded up and shipped off without the due course of law.  We Americans have not been - nor are we now - able to face uncertainty without lashing out and back.  Time to grow up, don't you think?
I wonder, as I write today, of why I am writing this blog.  A woman friend suggested it and I thought "okay, I'll do it", never really taking the idea inside and meditating on it.  I love to write, to be sure.  I love to express thoughts in words on paper, if you can call this "on paper", and yet I also realize I write for some kind of validation and recognition.  Living alone has its pluses and its minuses and one of the minuses is that I miss being witnessed; being seen; being acknowledged.  Is writing a blog the best way to fill in those holes? 
I wonder?
In the meantime, I will take the whole subject into my morning meditation, after saying
Thanks for it all!

Letters of Appreciation

One of the assignments from last Wednesday's class "Year to Live" at Common Ground (http://www.embracehumanity.com/) was to start writing letters of appreciation to those people in our lives whom we remember, sometimes fondly, sometimes not so fondly.  I chose to start with the ministers in my life - all women save two, who helped me, guided me, counseled me, (is "counseled" spelled with one "l" or two?  I never can remember!!!) and coached my labor from childhood innocence to full-term birthing of my spiritual path.  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  I find, as I write, that each one was the necessary and requisite partner on my soul's journey.  Had they come in any different order or any other different time in my life, I would not have been open and prepared to hear and to receive their wisdom.  Once again I am struck with the Wisdom of our Lives - with the Grace of our Journeys - with the Holy and Sacred Ground upon which we walk each moment of our lives. 
No more words need be written - the song of rejoicing and thanksgiving fills my heart and all that remains is -
Thanks for it all! ! !