Stressed Out, Horn-Honking, Angry faced drivers....

public domain photo by Jon Sullivan

Just spent 3 days in Connecticut.  Whew!  Congestion.  Yes, I was coughing a bit, but from the title above you can guess what I mean by congestion.  The traffic is intense, and my Connecticut friend tells me that I was probably the target of the horn honking drivers because my license plate was from New York.  Wow!  My Canadian friends used to say some stuff about people from the states that distressed me.  But I didn't realize that one could be disliked so much from state to state.  I guess it's something about New York City people who go up to Connecticut for the weekends.  To relax?  Ha!  Forget that. I contemplated putting a hand printed sign in the back window of my car which said:  UPSTATE NY RESIDENT--nice country bumpkin visiting, please don't honk unless necessary.  I'm REALLY stressed out driving here!

Driving in Connecticut is really involved and confusing.  I usually just took direction from the guy in the next seat who likes to navigate.  Downtown Milford is especially confusing.  It is amusing to me that I used to live in Connecticut.  About an hour from where I was staying the past few days, in Stamford, CT.  Old Greenwich, Greenwich, were my stomping grounds when I was a youngster in my twenties!  Gosh that seems many lifetimes ago.

I did have a good job for a little while when I lived there, but my main memory is of an intentional Christian Community in Stamford.  I was part of the community for two years. 

It was a cult.

Well, my memories of Connecticut are not all that fond.  A strange time in my life, and these days, visiting a friend in that neck of the woods, a place where stressed-out, horn-honking, angry-faced, road-raging drivers scare the heck out of me. 

Everything

Matthew:  13:45-46 "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

Rock

Taken at Agate Beach, near Bandon, Oregon, summer of 2010.  copyright 2010, Connie Schroeder

Sitting here looking at this familiar word, it almost feels strange...like a word from some foreign language.  I'm not sure why. Every once in a while if I look long enough at a word, it starts to look unfamiliar for some reason.  Who gave a rock this name?  Was it some cave dweller, long ago?  Is it more recent?  So many things pass through my mind when I think of the word.

Probably the thing that comes most readily to mind is my passion for finding beautiful stones.  Upstate New York isn't known for them.  There is mostly shale in this neck of the woods...Large shelves of rock in the mountains that have been in existence for what might be forever.  Most of my rock collection comes from Oregon, though I have gathered them from many places over the years.  I've always had a fascination for collecting these cool, often smooth, multi-colored, heavy, solid and beautiful things.

Recently I came home with an agate from the Connecticut shore.  It put the agates I've collected from Oregon right to shame. It's one of the largest I've seen.

One of my favorite spots to visit is a place called Columcille in Bangor, PA.  It is a garden of megoliths...standing stones, like the ones at stonehenge.  These particular stones however, have a clear history.  Cranes and large machinery put them in place.  They are magical, none the less.  

Well I guess that instead of trying to find a metaphor for some meaningful experience in my life, I'll just leave the topic as it is.   

Swings

http://www.publicdomainpictures.net

Porch swings, tire swings, playground swings...they all come to mind when I think about a swing. 

I remember the front porch swing on our house where I grew up.  It was a light colored wood, and over the years, the varnish started rubbing off.  The neighborhood kids would often gather there for consultation before a day of play.  We would plan strategies, the games we would play, the order of the games.   The girls next door always wanted to play make believe about movie stars and far away places.  It was all very female oriented, and I remember always scrunching up my face in disapproval.  Most of the time however, we all agreed upon things like croquet, softball, hide and seek, annie annie over, (is that how that's spelled?).  I remember when a new family moved in down the block and the kids chased us with sticks.  I couldn't understand that one.  It took a little while.  When we walked around the block, or would ride our bikes down that direction, out they would come, shouting and brandishing their weapons of choice like the little hooliguns they were.  Finally, one day, after more than a few times of going home with a red welt on my leg, I stopped, and grabbed one of their sticks.  Then I said:  "Why are you doing this?  You can come play games with us that are lots more fun than this, and they don't hurt anyone."  I was always playing the peacemaker.  It worked.  It turned out that they were just scared and lonely in the new neighborhood.  Of course the other neighbor kids were not happy about having such "meanies" join us, but it didn't take long before we were all playing kick ball on the side street.  Having all the kids on the block and some from the next block, made for an exciting game.  It wasn't my favorite game, as I was a clumsy kid and would kick at the ball, completely missing it.  So sometimes I just sat and watched, with my dog on a leash beside me.  I was happy and content on the sidelines.  I could cheer the others on, and I didn't feel left out. 

In the evenings, after it was dark, our porch swing was home base for wonderful games of hide and seek.  It was the most fun when our older cousins would visit and join in the games.  Ollie ollie in free (where do these phrases come from?)...the seeker would call out after searching the neighborhood, and finally tagging someone.  My favorite place to hide was under the back porch.  No one ever seemed to think about looking  there.  And sometimes right inside the cellar doors of the neighbor boy's house.

 In the fall time, we would sit on the porch swing, swinging back and forth, waiting for our turn to jump off the porch and into the tremendous pile of leaves we had raked up for that purpose.  The old elm tree was huge and left plenty of leaves for us to rake.  It wasn't so bad however, when we would dive into the fruits of our labor. 

It always puzzled me when my father took the porch swing down for the winter.  Why ever did he do that every year? 

Blessing

public domain photo taken by Peter Griffen

Blessing has pure agency because it animates on the deepest threshold between being and becoming; it mines the territories of memory to awaken and draw forth possibilities we cannot even begin to imagine.  John O'Donohue from To Bless the Space Between Us

When I read John O'Donohue's work, I wonder at his ability to pack so much into his words.  I am in love with this book, going back to it again and again, because of it's elegant simplicity.  His wise and generous words pour over me like cool water on a very hot day. 

In the paragraphs before the quote above, O'Donohue talks about the power of intention.  There was a research team that had a room where they kept a machine.  The machine flipped coins all day long.  Over the long term, 50% were heads and 50% were tails.  Or there abouts.  But when a person in a room nearby was asked whether they wanted heads or tails, and their answer was put in a sealed envelope and delivered to the researchers, the results were rather stunning.  If someone preferred heads, the machine just kept flipping coins, but the statistics went up to 75% heads and 25% tails.  The statistics fell the other way, when the person preferred tails.

Some years ago I attended a retreat, and was feeling isolated and lonely at the time.  Some of us met early, an hour or so before the retreat was actually to begin.  We gathered in a circle and began to drum.  And as we drummed, our leader talked to us about intention.  She encouraged us to drum our intentions into the earth and see what would happen.  Because I was feeling isolated, lonely and often left out of things, I decided that the intention I wanted to bring was a sense of welcome.  That people would feel really welcome at this retreat.  The experience of the drumming was wonderful and I lost myself in it, and in my intention.

Some time later, all the people had gathered for the opening service.  A very large puppet, Goddess herself came out and blessed us all.  What great fun.  There was music and dancing and laughter.   We talked to the people around us, and I found a woman about my own age standing next to me.  Raphaela was her name.  We chatted for quite a while, and I was amazed.  She had just moved there from California, and she was feeling really lonely.  She had her own greeting card business.  By the end of the evening we had become friends and she said to me how grateful she was to have met me, because she felt so welcomed.  Funny thing was, that in welcoming her, the experience gave me a sense of welcome as well.

Wow!  Intention.

Someone said to me recently that "I have good intentions."  It wasn't said in a complimentary way, and I felt really hurt.  Intentions can be difficult to follow through on.  We can get stuck.  Life and work and health issues can interrupt our good intentions.  What's that old saying?  "The Road to Hell is paved with good intentions..." 

So perhaps the key is choosing our intentions carefully, focusing our energies and then following through on our part the best that we can. 

Let's see...my intentions for today are to do some wonderful writing that may touch someone's heart, giving encouragement and hope; make some beautiful cards that someday will fall into the hands of people who will receive the card's intention with an open heart; send out a couple of resumes which may result in finding a regular paycheck; and finally, try to follow through on one old intention that I've let slide. 

What are your intentions for the day?  for the month?  the year?  Your lifetime?

Enjoy the day...I have every intention of doing that myself.

Caris

 

Shy

card and photo by Connie Schroeder, copyright 2009, all rights reserved.

Oh to be an extrovert.

This morning I finished an order for cards.  Six birthday cards.  They came out beautifully.  Then I went to a coffee shop and had a bagel.  When I finished, I sat and read a little book called "God went to Beauty School."  It is full of wonderfully hilarious, outside-the-box, heretical poems.  When I finished reading it again, I sat and wrote my own stuff about Goddess and had a lovely time.

From there I went to the service at the Unitarian Universalist Society.  I sat close to the front so I could watch the pianist play.  He is always a wonder to behold, and the prelude was an extraordinarily complicated thing with all kinds of runs, crossing hand over hand, and using the whole keyboard.  I admire his finger dexterity. 

The service was about being a patriot, which was quite different from what people often think about when they think about patriotism.  The minister challenged us to stand up for what we believed is true, even when it isn't popular.  I am all for that.  I'm summing it up rather simply, he did a good job with the sermon, it was peppered with lots of examples as well as ideas.

It was a lovely morning.  But I still came away feeling awkward and out of my element.  I am so doggone shy.  At the coffee hour I force myself to try and mingle, but I always wind up wanting to bolt out the door.  I don't mean to be so reserved, nor do I want to appear stand offish, but I know that's how it seems.  I have never felt really comfortable in groups, but that reality seems to have gotten a bit more pronounced than it has been in the past.  Sigh.

You know, some people are shy, but they still have so many people in their lives, and people really just want to be around them.  And some people are outgoing, but people avoid them.  I guess I just wish I hadn't missed out on "social skills 101" someplace along the line.  In an ideal world, I would love to make people feel really comfortable and happy and included.  I envy that skill!  We could use more folks like that in the world.

Beauty

Those of us who live here in upstate New York are fortunate to live amidst such beauty.  The day is calling, a gentle breeze, plenty of sunshine, singing birds and maybe I'll catch sight of the chipmunk who lives in the apple tree.  Taking time to soak up the day is such a gift.  Oh that every day could be a vacation day, filled with adventures and reading and rest.  But I suppose we would grow callous to them then.  We need work to balance things out. 

I was reading about some agrarian cultures...a few that still exist, where people basically forage for what they need, and their society is egalitarian rather than hierarchical like our own.  They share the land.  And essentially work about half the day, and spend the rest of the day "being."  I think I was born in the wrong place...or maybe our society is simply way out of balance.  Sixty years ago, people could live on one person's salary, own a house, take wonderful vacations.  These days, our lives are so out of balance.  Two salaries are necessary for a household to exist, and even then, owning a home is out of reach for a large percentage of the population.  Owning a car is a necessity in this neck of the woods, but only 10% of the world's population do own a car.  We were never meant to have such stress filled lives.  And I wonder if it is even possible to think about returning to simpler ways.  Our lives would have to undergo such a radical shift I wonder if they would be recognizable afterwards? 

The dividing line between  the wealthy and the poor seems to be wider...a chasm of sorts.  What if money didn't define us?  Philosophically, we'd like to think it doesn't.  But the truth of the matter is that it does.  People with money hold power over those who do not.  How do we change this?  I often wonder.

Prism

public domain image by Petr Kratochvil

Loving prisms, I have several hanging in my window.  Many faceted bits of glass that catch the sun and fill the room with bits of rainbow.

Maybe today I could be a bit like one of those pieces of glass, catching the light and transforming it into color.  Artists are definitely prisms of some sort...catching a glimpse of something that is at the source of everything, they create an image that reflects truth in some way.  Musicians, writers, dancers, anyone who is an artist is a prism.

It's important to remember that in order to be prism, that bit of crystal has to have facets to it.  And so do we humans need to be multi-faceted, different faces, different roles, different understandings and philosophies of life.  If we are going to reflect light, we need variety and many experiences in our lives.

Hope you are catching some of that light and letting it shine through.

Ghost Tours

public domain photo -- (looks a bit like a flashlight to me!)

Last night was opening night for ghost tours at Hyde Hall in Cooperstown.  As always when doing a performance, I worried about forgetting my lines, but luckily for me, the part allows for "story telling" rather than going according to a strict script.  I must say, that house is really spooky at dusk.  It's dark and damp, and there is much history there.  I play a woman who lived there in the 1800s, over 150 years ago, and my story is a rather serious one, and unpleasant in places.  Another part, the daughter of a "servant", is quite entertaining, and I get to add a few "punctuations" to her piece.  We played to sold out performances.  We had originally agreed to two performances per night, but they added a third last night.  All three were full.  If you attend, it is on Wednesday evenings, at 6 pm and 7 pm.  We may add 8 pm if we continue to sell out.  We had to turn people away yesterday.  Ghosts are popular.  I expect it is because most if not all families have them.  And most of us have had experiences we can't quite explain.

Speaking of experiences we can't explain, my earl grey tea keeps getting put in the freezer.  I have no memory of doing that.  Of course that really doesn't mean I didn't do it.  It just means I was thinking about something else.  Or maybe there's a ghost.  Hmmmm...

Trust

public domain image - http://www.public-domain-image.com

It takes great strength of character to enter a relationship again after someone has betrayed that trust.  Most of the time I think it just isn't possible.  Second chances are rare. 


We create many painful realities in our own lives.  We make decisions, most of us, trying to do good in this world.  But who is to say that in the long run something is good.  Some environmental practices of 50 years are now known to cause more problems.  The thing is, none of us can see into the future.  Who knows what it holds?  Who knows the absolute truth on any given day?  None of us, because absolute truth is rare.  Life shifts, like a river that floods and overflows and changes its course.  It flows on. 

The thing is, we need to allow for that shift.  Maybe it means that people are no longer part of our lives.  People we once loved and who loved us, the relationship that once was, just doesn't work.  Sometimes,a shift means the relationship changes in its nature.  Perhaps the open hearted trust isn't there any longer, but loyalty remains, and a deep, strong love that is accepting of limitations is more realistic, and in that reality, a more rewarding kind of relationship...whether it's a marriage, a partnership, a friendship, or family members.  Life's twists and turns have a way of changing us, asking more of us than we ever thought we could give.  To refuse to engage means we lose out.

 

Child Like

http://all-free-download.com/free-vector

 

Images of laughing Buddhas and a laughing Jesus are my favorites.  I also like that the images of laughing Buddhas are so often chubby.  One may think that this image is of the Buddha obtaining enlightenment.  I wonder if perhaps it isn't a single moment of utter happiness.  Laughter comes and goes.  A good hearty laugh that lasts more than a few minutes is rare.  But the thing that brought the laughter can bring smiles and chuckles for a long time to come.  This image seems like childlike wonder and happiness to me.

What do you do to keep a sense of childlike wonder alive?  When do you find yourself looking at something as though you are seeing it for the first time?  How do we nurture that part of ourselves that opens up worlds of wonder in the midst of the every day?  Who do you spend time with that brings you that sense of the possible?  Why bother?  Naw...the real why question is why do we lose that child like thing that makes life so fascinating.

What do I do to keep a sense of childlike wonder alive?  I walk in the woods.  I swim.  I just sit outside and read a book.  I pay attention to the world around me...especially things like puppies and kittens and giggling children.  Sometimes I blow bubbles.  I love waterfalls and ocean beaches, horses at play and walking through the redwood forest. 

You know the "who" in your life.  I think of friends who make me really happy.  Just hanging out together.  Taking a walk, going for dinner, driving down the highway.  Someone who makes me laugh, and feel really alive when we're together.  Someone who can tease me out of a rotten mood, saying the most ridiculous thing imaginable.  Someone who doesn't take herself or himself too seriously...someone who can laugh at themselves and help me laugh at me. 

Jesus said something about the kindom of God really only being available to those who are like children.  Healthy children can play.  they love to be teased.  They can cry at the drop of a hat and in the next moment be laughing again. I don't spend much time with kids these days, but I remember when I did.  They are vulnerable, need protection, need someone to help them learn new things.  And everything in life is new, so learning is constant.  Teachers often speak about that "aha" moment when a child's face lights up because they've made the connection and really understand a concept.

Why do we lose a sense of childlike wonder?  Usually it's because we are taking ourselves much too seriously, or think we don't have something yet to learn.  I can see why Jesus said that...the miraculous is only available to those who live with open hearts. 

Life

Apple Tree in blossom, public domain photo taken by Josef Petrek

Oh to live it with enthusiasm and humor,
to feast on the sight of a full leafed apple tree
against the green summer grass upon the hill.
To feel one's heart dance, even when movement
becomes difficult
To feel one's soul fly
even when circumstance
would press us down
with discouragement and fear.
To know one's self,
when others would try to convince us
of who we are;
To sing one's own song,
even when the noise
of the interstate traffice, and lawn mowers
and societies' rules, would try to silence us;
To walk with dignity,
even when systems would strip away defenses
working hard to humiliate and grind down;
To believe in possibility,
even in the face of every limitation imaginable,
To live with an open heart,
even when you have been wounded
more times than you can count;
To live with an open mind,
though others constantly repeat the rules
and how it "ought to be."
To be at peace,
though war and violence so often fills the world.

May you live your life fully today.

Caris
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