The Brave, Foolish, Peeking Fish

A parable, allegory -- more correctly put, an apologue. The origin and concept belong to Sr. Miriam MacGillis (links to an interview) founder of Genesis Farm. Here's another interview. I'm borrowing and expounding to share concepts influencing me at this time in my spiritual journey...

It's like fish in a lake. Their entire world view is only what lies below the waterline. Light shines "down" from the "sky" in patterned intervals. There are other fish similar in appearance yet with subtle differences in size, coloring, habitat, diets, communities and ways of interacting in their environment. There are also completely different life forms -- the whole making up an interacting eco-system. The small community the hero of our story lives in teaches its young, from birth, there is no other reality beyond what they experience and understand in their closed-system world.

But one day a brave, foolish fish decides to do something courageous and risks to see what, if anything, might be beyond the boundaries of the existence it knows. Swimming to the water's surface, pushing an eye just above the waterline it takes a peek.

What it sees is too unfathomable, too magnificent, too overwhelming to take in but for a second. The fish quickly dunks back below the water's surface, frightened by what it had seen. It was foreign and contrary to all the teachings. It swam back to the security of what's always been known and believed. The brave, foolish fish remained silent about its experience. No one would believe anyway. They'd judge it as simply an illusion, over-active imagination or fantasy. Yes, it's best to forget the whole thing and continue life as "normal"... (to be continued)

What did the fish see?

creed

"Those who have most power and wealth
treat the planet as a thing to be possessed,
to be used and abused according to their own dictates.
But the planet is a living organism*,
a Great Spiritual Integrity.

To violate this Integrity
is certain to cull forth disaster
since each and every one of us
is an inherent part
of this very organism.

All attempts to control the world
can only lead to its decimation
and to our own demise
since we are an inseparable part
of what we are senselessly trying to coerce.

Any attempt to possess the world
can only lead to its loss
and to our own dissolution
since we are an instrinsic part
of what we are foolishly trying to possess.

The world's pulse is our pulse.
The world's rhythms are our rhythms.
To treat our planet with care, moderation and love
is to be in synchrony with ourselves
and to live in the Great Integrity."

*(emphases mine)

Now here's a creed I could recite with all my heart, soul and being.

Can you guess when it was written and by whom (without googling)?

If you wanted to "Christianize" the last phrase (not that I feel a need to), it would be...
"is to live in God and God in us."
(There's a bit of scriptural truth)

20 Things That Make Me Smile

I've added a P.S. for those that have already seen this post once
:-)

1) Simon's love for playing 'Rock'

2) Simon when he lies on the floor belly up doing the 'see me!' wiggle

3) Simon when he's sleeping in a puppy-cute position

4) a good pun

5) bird song at sunrise

6) a student greeting me in the hallway at the school

7) Sr. CJ in her optional 'angel' nun headgear

8) all my sisters' senses of humor (necessary to survive life in community)

9) Simon when he (almost daily) bolts out the door to greet the UPS driver (who gives him a cookie)

10) the full moon, when she follows me wherever I go.

11) having my scalp massaged

12) Simon, when he slowly and gently 'sneaks' up in the one-foot space between two people on the couch, then curling his body up in the space and putting his head on a lap

13) when my friend gives a caring touch on my shoulder/back as she's passing by behind me

14) seeing my best NY friend's face, and my sisters who live in the city, and being in their presence after a long absence.

15) watching squirrels chase each other

16) newborn and young of all species

17) smiley faces, smiling faces

18) preparing a fire outside with only nature-collected items and successfully lighting it with just one match

19) snow -- it's still a wonder to this Texas girl

20) a sunrise -- and especially late morning sunshine after an early morning cloudy and dreary rain

How about you?

P.S...on 4/18

Sr. Claire Joy said I needed to "get a life" because one quarter of the things that make me smile had to do with Simon. Well...if you lived with Simon all the time you would experience this unusual companion and be smiling at all the things he does and ways about him.

But, in order to show I do have a life outside of Simon (I lump everything I said about him into one item, and I add the following list of five things that make me smile:

1) Ramona Quimby stories by Beverly Cleary
2) a crossword puzzle with a great theme (one of the neatest crosswords I ever worked was by (not just edited by) Will Schultz (sp?) where the letter 'e' was not used one single time in the puzzle. It was amazing!
3) going to the ballpark and seeing a baseball game live and singing "Take Me Out to the Ballpark" at the 7th inning stretch
4) piano music
5) old Gilda Radner skits

Not Always So Obvious

Ok..does this thought ever cross your mind?

"I would think it'd be obvious."

And, if I'm going to sit like a lump on a log and wait for someone to figure out how to be sensitive and compassionate and ask me, by god, I'm going to be sitting a long time not getting help.

Must I ask EVERY single morning..."Could you please help get me something to eat for breakfast?"

I don't know...I'd think if I was sitting in the kitchen at breakfast time with crutches in hand, twiddling my thumbs, that another coming into the kitchen might ask if I'd had breakfast yet and would like help. I haven't been able to get my own breakfast since having foot/ankle surgery last friday. I'm non-weight-bearing (crutches or wheel chair) for six weeks!

So...if you came into the kitchen and saw me sitting there (and it's the scheduled time for breakfast and I'm not eating anything), would you go about fixing yourself a bowl of cereal then sit down and begin eating, completely ignoring me, not saying a word? Or would you perhaps think to ask as you're pulling your cereal bowl out of the cabinet if I might want some as well?

Stubborn ass that I am at times...ok, too many times...I sat there to wait and see what would happen, and refused to ask for help.

"I am not going to ask. I shouldn't have to ask! I'd think it'd be obvious, unless you're so self-centered you think of nobody else but yourself and YOUR needs."

But she can't read my mind. And maybe she thinks I've already had breakfast or am not hungry. And even though if the roles were reversed I'd have the wherewithall to ask 'have you had breakfast yet,' that doesn't mean she has that skill.

My friend said I've been using situations like this to justify old tapes that I don't deserve to be taken care of when I need help (the message my mother clearly gave me, in ways I won't go into here).

My friend is wise. What a HUGE insight!

And, then, I'm also frustrated. I don't like having to be dependent on others, for the very reason that they may find helping me a burden, an inconvenience, irritating, an interruption in their life. It is so hard for me to ask for what I need. My mother trained me well not to ask.

My sisters are being lovingly patient as I go through this recovery process, both physically and emotionally.

Ugh...the next five weeks are sure to be agonizing growth opportunities. And I simply need to lighten up a bit on myself and others, and keep humor close at hand to see me through it. If you know a good joke, send it to me.

An Unexpected Opportunity

I woke up last week to a major computer melt down. At the time of writing, I'm still waiting to see if any data can be retrieved. This has turned into an opportunity to practice letting go.

Willing to lose everything: all my documents, Internet favorites, emails and addresses -- my only regret will be losing work important to the community. Quite surprisingly, what freedom I've felt!

I've become aware how often I choose to hold on to "stuff," that in the end leaves me a prisoner -- whether it's an ideology about the way things should be; a belief about myself, the world or God; a physical object; an attitude...…

It's not easy letting go. This particular situation was thrust upon me. Don't know if I'd ever consciously choose to let go in such a grand scale!

Being upset wouldn't bring the data back, so I've allowed myself to experience, rather than fight, the grief over the loss. This has opened my heart to release what I hold precious, and given me a willingness to be led in a new direction.

Thanks to my spiritual director, Ann, I have a helpful body meditation I practice in the times I do struggle to let go:

I hold both fists tight in front of my body, palms down, elbows against sides.
Next, I rotate fists, still clinched tight, towards the ceiling.
Then I relax the grasp just a little to allow space between the fingers and palms.
(If that's as far as I can go, that's okay. I allow space for God to enter the situation. It's like saying "I'm willing to be willing.")
When ready, I slowly begin to extend arms out and away from my body while opening fingers.

It's a vulnerable feeling at first, but in the end leads to peace, freedom and growth.

(Added note, March 24th...It's official, electrical spike completely wiped out hard drive. All data lost. And, yes, it was plugged into a surge protector. The day it happened we had several surges in a row. Guess it was just too much. Well, hope to have new hard drive and start fresh by next week.
P.S....If you're a friend, would you please send me an email so I'll have your address again? Thanks!)

Nothing but Sap, Fire and Love

Lift four gallons of sap (in a 5-gallon bucket).
Pour through filters into another bucket.
Lift this same four gallons of sap
and pour into the evaporator.
If the evaporator is full, pour into holding barrel.

By the end of a good run, we've usually lifted and poured three-times-over more than 100 gallons of sap.

It looks just like water yet has a wonderful flavor of sweetness.
And, that's all it is...water and minerals of the earth turned to sugar.

We add heat.

Lots of heat.

It boils all day and all night. The water is evaporated back into the atmosphere. It takes 24 hours to evaporate 100 gallons of sap into about 10 gallons that is then ready to be transferred into the finishing pan, where it is boiled down further until it becomes about 3 gallons of maple syrup.

If you take the syrup and heat to a certain temperature, remove and stir until the color changes, then pour into molds, it becomes maple candy. If you heat it further it will become a fine powdery substance - maple sugar.

We gather around the kitchen like kids entralled by the process that's happening before our eyes.

We are not doing this the high-volume factory way. We're in intimate communion with the sugar maple trees on the property, with the sap they give us. We collect by hand. Pour by hand. We're with the sap through the entire process. It's not just another bottle of maple syrup to us. It's something we've poured ourselves into, given up normal night's sleep to be with, allowed our bodies to ache from pouring gallons upon gallons of sap.

And we wouldn't have it any other way.

The parents and children of the school who we've shared this process with are amazed that all it takes to make maple syrup is sap from the trees and a heat source -- nothing else is added.

Except when we make it there's one added ingredient...

Love.

Remember...

"Remember...
you are dust,
and unto dust
you shall return."

These are words we heard today as ashes were "imposed" on our foreheads -- an odd ritual when you stop to think about it. I looked up the word "impose."
To "impose" something is to apply or establish something as if by authority, or to push or force upon another; such as imposing a tax, or imposing one's will upon another.

It makes me wonder, exactly, who is imposing what onto whom. (Besides the obvious answer of the priest imposing ashes upon me.) I've been pondering this all day.

Then as I've been writing this entry, a thought came to me. (Perhaps an inspiration of the Spirit?) This is a day for me to impose upon myself, my mind, the remembrance of who I am and my place in the universe.

We not only come from the Earth, we are an intricate part of the Earth. I read once that everyone who ever lived upon earth is still here. There's a scientific explanation that Sr. Catherine Grace explains clearly. I can't remember the specifics, but it has to do with the fact that there are a set number of molecules or atoms (or something like that), and that number never changes. As people die or matter decomposes, those molecules are released, transformed and rebirthed into something new.

And all of this started with a very humble beginning 13.7 billion years ago.
So I would not be amiss in saying:

Remember...
you are stardust,
and unto stardust
you shall return.

Women Can Save the World

I've had a lot on my mind lately. It's taken me some time to sit down and write. One thing I've been wanting to write about is the war in Iraq. There's a new International movement being organized by Code Pink. Women from all of the world are standing up to say "NO to War!" For more info see this link:
http://www.womensaynotowar.org/

I was one of the early signers of the petition to be delivered to the White House March 8th. If truth be said, I don't really believe those sitting in government positions are going to let 500,000 or even a million signatures change what's happening in Iraq. It will be looked upon as an sentimental gesture by the women of the world but not given much credence.

There is a powerful video and song that cuts to the heart of the matter. Pictures of the occupation. Here's another link if you dare to meet the reality of war head-on. Warning, it is graphic at times. But there is nothing pleasing to the eyes when it comes to war. But we need to look into the eyes of the children of Iraq, the mothers and fathers. Ignoring their faces only allows us to keep pretending we have a right to do what's being done to them.
Turn on the sound of your computer before viewing video. Video and song start immediately upon clicking link.
http://nobravery.cf.huffintonpost.com/

This video was reason enough for me to not lose hope or quit my own peacemaking efforts.

Women have an incredible amount of power when we work together and stand up against the injustice's of patriarchal society. We just need to wake each other up, stand collectively and say "No more!" I invite you to join me. a

Scat

My posts tend to be a bit on the serious side. So I thought, for a change, I'd write about something a bit lighter...

...SCAT.

(You know, the naturalist's term for sh*t).

There seems to be a lot of it in my life these days.

And I don't mean metaphorically!

Sometimes for farm chores I hose-off and/or sweep the duck scat off the porch or patio. Since Simon isn't always walked by leash (his breed needs to run), I have to walk around the school grounds and pick up his scat. My work duties include keeping our guest quarters clean, so I'm often on my knees scrubbing toilets. The other day out in the woods I failed to look down as I was walking and stepped in a pellet pile (deer scat).

I can't help but wonder if there's some deep spiritual message trying to be conveyed to me.

Or, maybe it's just as simple as...

...shit happens.

Any thoughts???

Thoughts Matter

Sometimes when I begin meditation my body and mind go: "Oh, I know what this is," and settle down right away. Sometimes I'm inundated with thoughts. It's normal for thoughts to float in and out of awareness when meditating. Centering Prayer is a great technique for dealing with them.

I'm increasinly become more and more aware of how thoughts influence emotions. The other day I started thinking about someone and a situation in my past and I felt my shoulders tighten, teeth clench and a shot of adrenaline causing my heart to race -- anger. Less than 10 minutes later I was thinking about my soul sister and that should she go to seminary I will really miss her. And I signed deeply, my chest sank with a heavy feeling, and my eyes got a little misty -- I felt sadness. That lead me to thinking about my childhood and moving every six months to two years. How I never was able to establish any long-term friendships. And my head sank low and I turned inward as if going into a shell -- I was feeling lonely.

Good thing I was in my meditation chair! I think the Spirit must have tapped (okay, maybe whacked!) me on the head, because I finally "woke up" to what was going on and realized my changing thoughts were shifting my emotions around -- all within a 10 to 15 minute span!!

I had an image of popcorn in a pan of oil, each kernel representing a thought. As a thought "popped" into my mind, I'd have a reaction (feeling). You know how popcorn popping speeds up the longer the kernels sit in the hot oil? Well, so it was for me once I'd stepped on the thought/emotion train. Each thought (and accompanying emotion) was leading to another and another, faster and faster. Anyway, that gentle tap on the head by the Spirit helped me get off the emotion train. And with intention and purposeful focus I redirected my thoughts to Simon, who was lying on the couch nearby. I thought about how much love I feel for this wonderful creature. And quickly I was able to calm myself, take a deep breath and enter into meditation.

There was a time in my life when I was rarely consciously aware of my thoughts and would simply experience wave after wave of emotions. One of the benefits mediation has brought into my life is a greater awareness of thoughts so that I've been able to lessen the power they hold over my emotions.

Thoughts do affect emotions. Thoughts do matter.

For a deeper look about the spiritual impact of thoughts in our life, I recommend Thoughts Matter by Mary Margaret Funk, O.S.B.

Many Hands Make Light Work

There have been many changes in our house lately. One sister is away for 6 weeks. One sister moved back to the city. One sister from the city moved up here. One candidate left the order. We were a house of seven. Now we're a house of five.

Another change has been in our schedule. We've added "Farm Chores" for 30 minutes in the morning after meditation and before breakfast and morning prayer.

This silent work in the morning reminds me of something the oldest member of our community said to me one of the first days I arrived: "Many hands make light work."

It's quite true. It's unfortunate that we've become a society that views independence as something to strive for rather than interdependence. It's a very god-like attitude to have: "I don't need you. I can and will do this by myself." It's an attitude that's gotten us into a mess socially and enviornmentally.

Although I am someone who has chosen to live a different lifestyle than the majority of people in this world, I clearly understand the challenges our present day culture presents to us. I lived under the suppression of a society controlled by corporations instead of citizens for the first 38 years of my life. But then, through a calling from my heart and the deepest part of my soul, I made the decision to change the way I interacted with the world. In essence I was taking back my personal power, and choosing to live sustainably in cooperation with the earth, all of creation and my fellow human beings (a very God-loving and spiritual way to live).

It seems people in the religioius life are often misunderstood as to the "work" we do. Yes, we do come together three or four times a day to chant our prayers. But we also carry on our prayers while engaging in responsibilities normal to most families in today's society: accounting/bookkeeping, doing the laundry, cooking meals, visiting our elderly sister in the nursing home three times a week, cleaning house, cleaning guest rooms, yard work, farm work, minor house repairs and painting, teaching in the school or after school programs, continuing our education, then taking care of the too occassional things that break down or go wrong. Day before yesterday it was chopping up a tree that had fallen in a very windy and wet storm. The laundry list goes on.

When we share with individuals that every week we make our own bread, tortillas and crakers, as well as grow much of our own food and cook all our meals from scratch, they usually reply something as follows: "I wish I had time to do all that. But there's no time. And I have (fill in a number) kids."

My reply? Of course one person cannot do all that by themselves! But we have gotten away from being a society that lives in extended families and communities. We have isolated ourselves from each other, not even connecting with our neighbors next door or down the street.

But can you consider the possibility of families coming together and sharing the responsibilities of child care, growing food, cooking?

You don't have to join a religious community to do that.

Check out this intentional community in Ithaca, NY: http://www.ecovillage.ithaca.ny.us/

Continuing to try to get through life alone is as much a choice as choosing to live in community and in communion with all creation.

Many hands do make light work.

In the Beginning Was the Dream

I would wish to put a pic here, but have not obtained permission. Please click on this link to view pic... Cosmic Dream by Tina Salvesen

Suzanne Guthrie, Episcopal Chaplin at Cornell University has been staying with us this past week over the school break. She presided over the Mass with us yesterday. Her reading of the gospel had me totally entralled.

You know how sometimes you can read something over and over again until it becomes so rote you stop paying attention? Maybe you pick up a new perspective based on where your life happens to be at this time. This is especially true when reading scripture. One of my all-time favorite scriptures from the Christian texts of the Bible is the first 18 verses of the first chapter of the Gospel of John.

Yesterday at the reading of the gospel, Suzanne substituted
one word throughout, and it wrapped me around a deeper understanding of the passage than I'd ever had before. Slow, contemplative reading will give it life beyond the mere words.

in the beginning was the dream,
and the dream was with God,
and the dream was God.
the dream was in the beginning with God.
all things came into being through the dream,
and without the dream not one thing came into being.
what has come into being in the dream was life,
and the life was the dream of all people.
the dream shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not overcome it.

there was one sent from God, whose name was john.
a witness to testify to the dream,
so that all might believe.
the dream which enlightens everyone,
was coming into the world.

the dream was in the world,
and the world came into being through the dream;
yet the world did not know the dream.
the dream came to what was its own,
and the people did not accept the dream.
but who received the dream,
who believed in the dream,
became children of God.

and the dream became flesh and lived among us,
full of grace and truth.
from the dream's fullness we have all received,
grace upon grace.
the law indeed was given through Moses;
grace and truth came through the dream.
no one has ever seen God.
it is the dream,
close to God's heart,
who has made God known.

Just think. You and I and all created beings are an answer to God's dream. There is only unity.

Secrets and Shame -- Advent Lesson #2

What do I want to say? It's always hard for me to write when I haven't written for over a week or more.

I've been doing some "considering" again...

I've been thinking about shame.

One of my sisters asked me why it was I could post in a public forum about my most recent struggle with depression and not tell the ones to which I'm closest with, live with and have a relationship with.

I paused and thought for moment, sinking down into myself willing to look at whatever it was....

It was shame. And I explained how writing it in a forum that was removed from the personal and direct was an effort to push past my comfort level and the shame I was feeling about it all. So I "put it out there," "said it."

I think subconsciously I knew one or more sisters may read my blog, and therefore would find out about it that way. But writing it in a blog was less of a risk for me, less scary, than saying something directly and getting immediate feedback.

Shame -- responding through fear -- was dictating when, how much, with whom, and in what format I would share the information. (Sidebar: Although I did not do it this time around, I'm an advocate for going the direct way whenever possible!)

One thing I do wish to be clear about is that the issue was not that my community of sisters wouldn't be compassionate and supportive, but that I was too ashamed and scared to risk checking it out. And most likely no matter what my sisters said to reassure me, there would be a part of me that doesn't trust that it's for real. Because it's hard for me to comprehend how someone could be compassionate and supportive of me when I'm feeling shame about who I am, my very being.

In the worst of depression I become the Queen of Projections! For example, I believe no one wants to be around a depressive, so surely others don't want to be around me when I'm depressed. Another example: I believe because I grapple with depression in my life that I'm a burden or not a viable member of community (or society for that matter). And I fear others will think the same way, as well. "What if that's true?!" (In the pit of depression it's not exactly a reality one wants to face.) So you can see how depression sort of skews rational thinking and blocks out wisdom, truth and light!

There was a real part of me that wanted to share my struggle with my sisters, but there was a bigger shameful part of me that just wanted to keep it to myself and do my best to hide it.

So...all of this hiding because of shame has lead me to think about Mary, the mother of Jesus. (And, about my own birthmother.) Although Mary could not 'conceive' of the idea of what the angel Gabriel was saying, her response was one of openness and willingness: "Be it as you have said." Society's response was: This is a shame! (to be pregnant out of wedlock).

For those who don't know yet, I was given up for adoption. Five years ago when I, by chance, had the opportunity to reunite with my birth family, my maternal grandmother told me my mother's pregnancy was a shameful thing, especially during the early 60's, and that's why they decided to keep the reality of my life a secret to their graves.

Somewhere along the way (maybe since before my birth) I've internalized the message that my very existence is something to be ashamed about. Intellectually and rationally I know that's not true. It doesn't make believing it in my gut any easier.

Shame is a powerful weapon. It's used to repress and oppress others. It breeds secrets and mistrust. It encourages judgments rather than compassion. It's a monster that takes on a life of its own, and has long-reaching effects. It separates us from the Divine, and from the Divine in each other.

So as I approach, yet another, birthday (Dec 18th), here's Advent Lesson #2. It's a thought to ponder and consider along beside me:

Can you imagine if Mary and Joseph (because of shame) had decided to keep the reality of Jesus' birth a secret?

Missing the Present - Advent Lesson #1

I got a call this morning to sub for the 2nd grade teacher. Part of that time included "chapel" with the 1st graders. I was put on the spot and asked to talk about Advent! Ugh!!! What do I say to a bunch of 6- and 7-yr-olds?! I had to think of something, quick. "It's Advent. You know, that time on the church calendar that leads up to Christmas....uh..."

For a moment, I was a deer standing in front of the headlights. I'm one of these people that knows the answer to a question until you ask it of me.

But somehow the Spirit came through. Thank God!

We ended up talking about expectations, waiting and preparing. The children had on their minds mostly visions of Christmas morning with toys and presents under a Christmas tree.

I've had a lot of mind lately, as well, as I've been thinking ahead to next year when I could potentially be taking life vows. In fact, I've already started "preparing" for the day in my own mind. (This would also be known as daydreaming!)

But there's a problem with expectations, waiting, and preparing for some future event to happen. Sometimes I get so caught up in what's to come that I'm oblivious to today. My spiritual director has a wonderful way of calling me back: "Whoa!" she'll say, "You're really out there. Rein it in a bit!"

So today's Advent lesson to myself: I can only do my best expecting, waiting and preparing by being fully present in the moment before me.

Three for Three -- Death and Life

I've sat down three different times to try and type out this blog entry. Maybe this time I'll be able to finish it and click on the publish button...

I've now witnessed Simon instinctively go after and kill three animals.

The first time was this past Spring, when I let Simon out the side door and a chipmunk was unfortunate enough to be on the porch. Chipmunk's are fast. Simon was faster. When we first rescued Simon off the road 15 months ago and I was researching about Weimaraners, I learned their breed is the 2nd fastest -- the first, being greyhound. Also they were specifically bred as large game hunting/retrieving dogs, then later developed to ferret out small animals/rodents on farms. It's a very refined, special breed of dog that has only been in the US since the early 1900's.

"Weims" have become well-known due to the work of photographer William Wegman. But this is not a breed of dog for a family that lives in an apartment or even lives in a house with a backyard. They need lots of space outdoors to run. They're known as "leaners" and are very attached to their owners. They don't do well left alone -- indoors or out -- apart from their owner.

However, they are quite adorable. Simon makes an impression on everyone who meets him, especially the children of the school. He's very tolerant of small kids coming up to him and petting him (although right now he's too young to stand still for very long). He has become a wonderful animal companion to our community. We've worked hard training him not to charge the ducks in an act of playfulness, and he gets along with our cat Smoochie.

The second animal I saw Simon kill was just two weeks ago upon my arrival home after being away for a week. When I've been away for especially long periods of time, Simon usually is so excited to see me, his tail goes in circles and wags so fast his whole rear flank does the Elvis shake. This time, within minutes of arriving home, and after already greeting him, as I was unloading my baggage from the car, he came bounding up to me tail wagging, then went prancing over to the porch, then back over to me, and back over to the porch again. Then I saw it...

...a baby 'possum. I never heard a sound. And I don't think he was out of sight for more than a minute or two. It must have been crossing the driveway or just in the field nearby. The kill was swift and silent, around the neck. I watched as she lie on the ground struggling for life, lifting her head. I looked her in the eyes and offered compassion. I was sorry that Simon's instincts and desire to bring me a gift cost her life. But, then, not wanting to upset or confuse Simon, I praised him and quickly herded him indoors. I buried her right where Simon dropped her underneath a wooden planter box.

Yesterday was the third and hardest one of all to witness.
Here's how it transpired:
For an Outdoor Adventure Club activity, I had come up with an idea for the students to "plant" trash as part of an ecology experiment to see what will breakdown in the earth. First we went to their classroom and dug through their garbage can. The day's pickings were good: foil packaging that once contained chips, a juice box, aluminum can, plastic water bottle, paper, and kleenex. Next we went to the cafeteria and got one of the styrofoam trays their lunch is served on, a plastic fork, and a straw. Finally, we stopped off at my house (the sister's convent in front of the school) to get some newspaper and "compost" matter -- egg shells, banana peel, etc.

Since we were on our way outdoors with our bag of goodies and shovel in hand, I decided to let Simon come along as well. So me, three students and Simon all burst out the door and exuberantly headed down the slope that leads to the playing field and woods. Simon took off running as he so loves to do. The children were ahead of me and already down the slope when I heard screaming: "NO, SIMON! NO!" I hurried to see what was happening.

Simon had Avila (one of our newest ducks - about 3 months old) in his mouth. I gave him the serious command to drop her. He obeyed immediately. I scolded him; he tucked his tail and head and curled his body. Avila took off running toward the pen. I thought maybe she was going to be okay. But she collapsed. The children were very upset. I took off my sweatshirt, picked her up and carried her into the house, yelling at the top of lungs for Sr. Catherine Grace. She and Sr. Heléna Marie stayed with her as she died and I went back out to the kids.

It was a graphic lesson those children saw about the cycle of life and death, and how genetic instinctual programming kicks in and works in animals. I took them away to a hill nearby where the sun was shining. They cried and shared stories of pets they'd lost. It was interesting to see how one grief led to the remembrance of another. I made space for them to share them all. And we each shared what we thought death was all about. I shared how many native cultures believe that the body is only like a house in which the spirit of an animal lives inside. And although Avila's body was no longer able to function, her spirit was still present. I once had a compassionate priest say, "Death is what happens when the body can no longer support life." That is what I believe. It's such a different view than seeing death as an ending to life.

In the end the students wanted to see Avila's body and bury her. So I made that happen. One of the girls had to walk away as I was putting the body in the ground. But I called her back and had her join us in what her classmate had so wisely suggested doing, which is burying her with our hands and not with the shovel. Yes, I had to dig the hole with the shovel, but this young boy wanted us to fill the dirt back in with our hands. So we all began putting the soil back on top of Avila's former body. Then the two girls took off to go to their classroom to get crayons, returned, wrote Avila's name on a rock and placed it on the ground.

I spoke to each student's parent when they were picked up. I think they're going to be just fine. Amazing how well they handled the situation. One of girls wants to be a vet when she grows up.

I was afraid for awhile that the sisters would be upset at me and Simon for what happened. But they all seem to understand that if we're going to have animals on our farm, and allow them to roam free, then there will be perils. Avila was still too young and small to defend herself against Simon. The other ducks are quite capable of handling themselves now and can fly. And Simon was only doing what Simon was bred and raised to do and has been in his genetic encoded for centuries.

I took his mug shot this morning. I was going to post it with a criminal number plate below it, in my own trying to process and sort through nature's ways. But I get one look at his truly innocent-looking adorable face and I see him for what he is...

...Simon Peter bar Jonah Harry Houdini Thunder Dog the Wonder Dog the Best Dog Ever!

The Lesson of the Leaves

Only a few remain. Clinging to the ends of branches in the blowing winds. I wonder what keeps the stragglers hanging on while the others have long since let go. Mostly what I see as I drive the streets and highways now are the bare branches pointing up to the sky. The rest of the leaves have mostly all fallen to the ground. I've always been a bit spell-bound by this process. I even wrote a poem about it ten years ago:

I'm goin' through an uneasy-feeling
     time with things
        a-changin'.
Don't wan't them to change too fast
     as the leaves on the ground
quickly change from red to brown,

but as the ones
                          left
on the trees
                     grace~
fully changin,
kind of slow
                     and gently,
                                        at peace.

And when the time comes, not struggling
       to hang on,
but going
                with
                        the
                              bre
                                      e

                                   z
                                          e
                                               !

The Fall Cycle

It's been over a month since my last post. I have many excuses: I got caught up in a bit of work-aholism (a great avoidance technique of mine), I was away at a conference for five days, I was away on rest (a topic for my next posting), and since I've been back I've been spending my time in one community meeting after another.

But there's a bigger underlying issue that's more difficult for me to express here. You know, because, maybe, sisters have images to uphold or something. And I only want to post if I can write honestly and openly, otherwise I don't have much to say.

I've been struggling with something I don't even much want my sisters to know about. So I do my best to hide it and pretend as much as possible on the surface that everything's okay. It works for awhile. Well, maybe not for as long as I'd like to be able to keep up the façade. It happens every Fall. I've become consciously aware of it in the past few years with the help of brilliant medical doctors. And I try not to give it much energy or fuel in the knowing of it now.

Yet as I have also learned to gently tune into my body's own rhythms and cadences, I feel it so well now...the chemical shifting...depression. It affects 10% of the population, mostly women and heredity does play a role.

In my bones, I sense that the reason it affects me this time of year is because this was the last trimester I was in my birthmother's womb; and I now know facts surrounding my birth. One, that she was sent far away from Salinas, CA, to New Orleans, LA, to have me and give me away. Two, that she wanted to keep me. I believe that every Fall I am chemically re-experiencing her depression and feelings of loss.

But even in the knowing of this, things still get muddled in the day to day living out of my life and my thoughts get confused and I feel at times lost and hopeless when everything on the surface looks really all right.

So I called my doctor. She had me increase the dosage of medication I'm taking. (I wasn't so pleased about this because it's main side-effect is weight gain; and I've managed to work off 20 pounds from last year's go-around with it.) I'll see her on Friday. She'll talk to me about ways we'll meet the depression head on during the next few months. It's a frustrating situation to live in sometimes. But, this is the life of someone who experiences chronic, cyclical depression. And when I'm willing to take the medications much as a diabetic is willing to take insulin, then I don't have to deal with the adverse effects of depression that I'd otherwise experience: lack of or inability to sleep, lack of appetite, mood swings, isolating myself, feeling hopeless.

And frankly, there's too many good things going on in my life right now! Visions for the future. Directions and goals being set and ready to be carried out. A lot of internal healing and growth that's been happening. This year the depressive cycle really doesn't match everything else that's going on inside or outside my monastice and active life. I want to keep my focus on these things which nourish me and give me life, and...I'll follow the doctor's orders.

I'm not Powerless...Neither are You

There's something on my mind I need to write about. It has to do with when others are hurting and I feel powerless to help or change their situation. Do others feel this way sometimes?

I believe so, especially when confronted with a natural disaster or crisis that hits close to home, such as an illness or like the hurricane Katrina devastation. So many were left affected by that storm. For example, the children. I have an on-line friend (I've never met her in person) through an adoption triad support group list. It's a list from the home I was originally adopted out of, in New Orleans, in 1964. I joined the list five years ago when I was thinking about searching for my birth family (that's a whole other long story for another blog). My friend is a teacher at a school in a Louisiana Parish city an hour or so north of New Orleans. She has been writing to me about the children "survivors" the Red Cross brought into her community. Some of these children not only lost their homes but lost their parents as well. She wrote to me the other day:

"The kids at school are so restless. They want to go home, and some of them have no home or school to go too. I can't find enough words to help them out. I find myself getting frustrated, and I can only imagine how they feel. There are so many new problems to deal with. I don't think any of us anticipated the changes that would come about with devastation such as this. The classrooms are so crowded, not enough textbooks, supplies are so limited, and the children are so frustrated because they are multi-levels. The kids from public schools in New Orleans are among the lowest level in our State. Whereas our Parish, is one of the highest level school systems in the State. I think the younger children are more at an advantage than the older children. They can at least blend in a little more, and try to catch up a little easier. My heart just hurts for these kids."

I'm glad my friend writes to me personally and lets me know a real day-to-day recovery side of the story that otherwise would be lost in the greater scheme of world news these days. Here is a story of the heart, for the heart. And my heart is moved when I read what my friend writes. Yet I'm in NY, how can I possibly give of my presence and time? And, I'm a nun with no personal monies of my own significance to give towards supplies. I feel powerless to effect any sort of change in those children's lives, that they're needing right now. It's frustrating for me, and I'm just waiting for someone to say, "you can always pray."

That may be fine for you, but it is not enough for me that I only pray for these children. My friend shared with me her frustrations and her aching heart, not so I'd do anything about it, just because she needed to share her aching heart. But my own heart of compassion just won't seem to let me read it and sit on it and do nothing about it.

The world is so big. And we cannot even seem to take care of our own children. We are over in some foreign country fighting a war over oil instead of looking at our consumption of fossil fuel and using our God given creativity to come up with new ways of living so we don't have to depend on so much on those fossil fuels. I'm angry because we could be using the money we're spending over in Iraq to be taking care of our displace New Orleans children and families. President Bush gave those families $2,000 debit cards. Did he seriously think that was going to begin to get them back on their feet? They still have no homes to go back to, no jobs....nothing!

AND.....we have children who have suffered horrendous loses of home, some have lost their parents, they've lost their way of life as they knew it and they have been relocated to another community, put in a school where textbooks and supplies run short and the academic levels suddenly show the inequalities of which they've been treated in the educational system.

Where is the space for these children to grieve their loses? Where are the supplies these children need? These children should not have to be going to school frustrated every day without having supplies. Haven't they lost enough? What is wrong with this nation? Where has our compassion gone?

I may feel powerless, but I'm not powerless. I can empower myself to share this story with others locally and connect those with resources to those without. I can allow my prayer to strengthen me into action. Otherwise, my prayer and god are a powerless prayer and god.

Apathy or Ache?

Last Wednesday, International Peace Day, I was invited to speak to students and faculty at a very large public high school in Ridgefield, CT. E., a senior at the school who made the arrangements, is what her mother calls an "old soul." She had arranged a room upstairs and across from the cafeteria. Students could get their food then come into the room and join us for an open forum and discussion about peace. She had asked friends to come, and made announcements at the school. I'm not sure what other advertising there was. Less than 1% of the student population showed up.

From the cars and local shops, I observed that Ridgefield, CT is an upper class suburban township. I googled the high school and found the following statistics: has an enrollment of about 1424 (grades 9-12); is 93% white; and only 2% of the students are receiving free or reduced-price lunches. Let me tell you, that public school was NICE!

Enter a nun in habit, ready to open a discussion about what the Earth can teach us about peace. There are four lunch periods, each 45 minutes long. The first period, one student showed up. A young man, whom E. actually didn't know. I was standing in the hallway and he asked why. Apparently I peaked his interest with my topic (the Earth teaching us about peace), so he decided to stay. But halfway through he challenged me. He said he did not believe peace was possible in our lifetime, or ever. It would take a change of consciousness that he did not believe was possible for humans to make. The second lunch period, no students showed up. The third lunch period, no students showed up at first, then with only 15 minutes until the end three came and two teachers (so I gave the cliff notes version). The fourth lunch period, four of E.'s friends came and three parents, one being E.'s mom. E. had mentioned that when she asked one of her friends to come to the talk she'd told her, "Why bother? It's a waste of time. There will never be peace."

So what was this? I asked myself. A school filled with teens headed toward adulthood and college. Obviously most of them (according to the statistics 98%) not having to worry about their basic needs being met and most likely having much more than they could possibly need or want. Yet they haven't the time or care to waste in talking about world peace. It looked like apathy to me. Why should they care? Look at all they had. They didn't have to worry about anything, about whether their town well was being drained dry by the Coca-Cola Bottling Company, or whether their drinking water was being polluted by the milling factory making their clothes, or whether some foreign government was trying to force their way into their homes and lives.

But Sr. Catherine Grace had a different idea. She thought perhaps what they were displaying more than apathy, was ache. Ache because there's a deep, inherent part inside of them that somehow knows that everything their parents are pushing them to do and succeed and have is somehow disconnected and killing a part of themselves as it kills the Earth.

I shared this with the few students who did come to talk about peace. And I'll write it here as clear as I'm able. (I don't have a board in which to draw a picture.) It's my belief that one of the reasons we don't have peace today is because humans have removed themselves from the processes of the Earth. The Earth is ONE process which INCLUDES the human being. And humans aren't the end of that process or necessarily at the top of that process. Because we have disconnected ourselves from that process, we developed a sense of entitlement and possession when it comes to the Earth, its resources and, at times, other people. Thus we use the Earth and we use people and when we're through with them, they're dispensable.

If we, as humans, were able to make a major consciousness shift and re-connect...."re-member" that we are a part of the Earth processes, then we would be unable to treat the Earth and our brothers and sisters the way we do now. Because we would understand that so as we treat them, we are treating ourselves.

Compline chorus

I'm a bit uneasy tonight. Rita is bearing down on the Texas/Louisiana coast, headed straight for an area my older brother lives. He lives in Jasper, just north of Beaumont. I'm worried about the tornadoes that will be spawned.

Whereas the Gulf Coast has been dealing with nature's force and destruction the past two months, tonight I was blessed to experience what I call "the healing side of nature." As we were singing Compline, we had some voices of nature join us. During the chanting of the Psalms an owl added a few hoots, and at the close of the office we heard the coyotes yipping and howling. There was something calming in hearing the sounds of nature join our chorus. Reminding me of the deep connection and interconnectedness we have with all creation.