Wandering

"Quiet Hours"   copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved.

Took this photo the other day on a walk.  Misty.  Old farm buildings.  Madeline the dog wandering to her hearts content.  Isn't it grand to wander in the wee hours of the morning?  When no one is about except oneself, and joy is tugging you to look for just the right scene.

Talk about wandering...last evening at the Tuesday women's writer's group, we laughed hard and long.  So many funny stories.  One of the phrases we wrote about was "The Monkey on the Mantle."  It was hilarious the way that for so many of us, the monkey was a dark figure.  In my particular story he was a theif.  It was the kind of story I never write, and so when I read it, I used my dramatic voice.  I was embarrassed.  It was just so far from what I consider "me," that it was hard to read it out loud.  And of course I couldn't just read it, I had to make fun of it.  Which was a success.  I found a way to make them laugh!  Which made me really happy.  So much of what I write is inspiring, but I don't have the kind of humor several of the women in the group have.  I have envied that.  It was nice to be one of the funny ones last night.

A minister friend was coming to the writing group, and found that it breathed new life into her sermon writing.  Fun!  Sermon writing fun?  We had a large number last night.  We grow, bit by bit.  And that is wonderful!

So give it a try...write for 10 minutes, keep your hand moving, try not to think or censor, go for the juggular, and remember that you're free to write the worst stuff in the world!  Write about the phrase:  "The monkey on the mantle." Let your mind and your writing wander.  Enjoy yourself!



Anyway...

Messages...

"Galaxy..."  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

I wonder how many messages we miss that are all around us.  I took this as the hurricane was beginning to be felt in North Carolina.  Doesn't it look like a swirl?  As though these branches and leaves and fruit were trying to say:  "There's a big storm coming!"  Couldn't be...or could it?  


Being present each day to the ways Spirit tries to speak to us can be a challenge!  We miss many small and not so small gifts because we're so focused on our own agenda, and so quick to brush away the improbable.

Isn't it great fun when something gets through to us, past our defenses, an absolute surprise?

Peace before the storm

"Peace before the Storm"  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

Another misty morning the other day.  The look of these bare branches against the green bushes and trees leave me feeling quiet and thoughtful.  If I went back today they may have been blown down by the hurricane. 

The branch on the apple tree in my yard has fallen down.  I think it was the branch with the most apples on it.  I keep looking for the metaphor in it, and I'm having trouble finding it.  so maybe it's just a fallen branch, torn down by the wind gusts that came from the big storm here on the east coast.  Of course I'm not exactly "on the coast."  I hear that people were sitting on roofs waiting to be rescued, less than an hour from here in Margaretville.  That's quite an image.  Reminiscent of Katrina and the many poor people who died during that time, waiting for help to arrive, that never came.   I hope the people in Margaretville were attended to. 

The water of the river across the road from us, is high, but not overflowing its banks.  We escaped the biggest intensity of the storm, though I did hear of a burning bush a few miles away.  Downed power lines.  Of course that burning bush, was consumed.

For many people today there is a lot of clean up to happen.  The sun is shining as though nothing terribly important happened yesterday.  But for some, it was quite important.  Flooded homes, debris filled streets, loss of property and for some, 19 at last count, a loss of life.

Many prayers... 

Morning Glory

"Good Glory Morning!"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

Glory...Something old fashioned about that word.  You find it a lot in the bible.  Southern preachers enjoy using it, rolling it out...stretching it into something like G   a    l   o   w   r   y!!!!!!  With many exclamation points behind it.  A friend and I sometimes like to use that version of the word when something especially wonderful happens and deserves some celebration.

I believe, don't quote me on this, but I believe the flower above is a morning glory.  A really wonderful flower that loves the morning.  There used to be a cafe where I enjoyed going for breakfast with a particular friend, and it was called "The Morning Glory."  Great food!  I vouch for their oatmeal pancakes with walnut butter and maple syrup!  Heaven.  If you're ever in Ashland, Oregon stop in for a visit.   My friend B. and I went there the first week it opened many years ago...before it became so hugely popular.  Now if you go, plan to wait!  Anyway, way back, and probably still, their menus had this haiku written on it.  

I am one
Who eats his breakfast,
Gazing at morning glories.
                                Matsuo Basho 

Simplicity is always the most elegant speech.


Morning and "glory" are words that go well together.  My ventures out into the now, tasting-of-autumn, early morning air have been such a gift.   Flowers and deer, sunrise and water, great herons and jumping fish, a happy dog...the mornings are a great wealth of "G a l o w r y y y y"

And this little flower speaks so simply of her own truth.

Oh, and this is a P.S., My very favorite spot for breakfast in this area is The Double Day Cafe in Cooperstown.  Super, super!  Great waitstaff, terrific food, (always love their oatmeal with walnuts and fruit.)

Life and Death and Life

"Life and Death" photo copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

     It is ever with us, each day we walk in this world, until the day we leave it.  There is life all around us.  And everywhere we step there is also death.  And if you look closely, you see this dead tree has life growing from it.  The dying feeds life.
     The cycle turns.  New generations come into the world, and we age, slowing a bit as we do, our lives given over a bit to the younger ones.  And each time someone leaves this world, a legacy of some sort is left behind.  Sometimes it isn't such a good one.  And sometimes, the legacy is simple, seemingly unimportant, and yet life springs from it.  And sometimes it is a legacy that becomes larger than anyone ever imagined.  Even and perhaps especially the simple legacies may grow to tremendous proportions. 
     What is the legacy you hope to leave?  How do you feed the younger ones?  Will you share your wisdom?  Your stories?  Your failures and your successes?  I hope you remember the ones who have given your life its beginning, the ones who have failed and fallen and gotten up again because of their love for you, their hopes for you, the younger one.
     Ah...such existential questions for the day! 

Green

"Green"  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

Got an interesting email the other day about the younger generation giving the older generation a hard time about "not being green."  And then a long list of things that "used to be" which have died out because we like our conveniences, but which in their day were quite green.  Glass milk bottles...gosh I wish we'd go back to that!  I hate the plastic ones.  And the cardboard ones use precious resources.  And I remember bringing a friend home from college once, and she saw my mother washing plastic bags. (My mother was a child during the depression years and learned to save everything.)  My friend started to giggle.  She thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.  Now that was definitely not a time when "green" was being promoted back in Nebraska.

One of the more interesting things I've seen lately was a woman carrying a cloth bag that said "Save the planet" and she was smoking a cigarette.  It seemed rather incongruous.

And not all the younger generation are into being green.  I was in the grocery store a while back and said I had forgotten my bags.  I can't remember the exact words exchanged, the cashier, a young woman in her teens, responded that it really wasn't important.  Poor girl, she said that to the wrong person!  She got my inspiring little talk about plastics in the ocean and the devastating effects they are having on sea life, which in turn will have an effect on humans.  There wasn't anyone in line behind me, so her eyes were starting to glaze over by the time I realized I needed to be quiet and move on.

Make a difference...recycle, renew, reuse!!!!!  I for one, love the green things.  Let's keep them around.  If they go, so do we. 

Windows

"Inside Outside"  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn

We get little glimpses sometimes into the workings of peoples' inner lives.  They are only glimpses and we do well to remember that.  Sometimes we think we know who they are, they have been part of our lives for so long.  They are predictable.  But then one day you see something you had never seen before, never knew about them, and just slightly, your perception of that person changes.  Outside worlds and inside worlds can be very different from one another.  Many times they come together as in the reflection above.  But those are just windows.  When we discover something new about someone, something perhaps that is disturbing, or unpleasant, we sometimes make quick judgments.  Remember, it's only a glimpse, and the whole story can be a whole lot more complicated than what we might want to hear about.  Other times we discover a whole, amazing, creative, gifted human being who carries around a plethora of wisdom and humor and love.  We are all a mixture. 

Simple Gifts

"Simple Gifts"  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

We take much for granted.  Here in upstate New York we don't think "earthquake" when we feel things start to shake.  Our minds find all kinds of other reasons...that perhaps there is something wrong with us.  We're having an episode of some sort.  I was sitting and writing when things began to shake yesterday afternoon.  The house began to move.  I wondered if a particularly large truck had gone by...but it continued and I knew it was more than a truck.  It stopped before I figured it out.  And I went about my business. 

The earth beneath our feet is something, someone we take for granted.  A simple thing.  A beloved thing.  When simple stuff shifts and shakes, we'd better pay attention to the causes. 

Finding the sacred in the ordinary is not a new concept.  Brother Lawrence, a monk in the 16th century wrote a small book that has stood the test of time, still inspiring many seekers all these many years later.  From scrubbing pots and pans to hanging up clothes to dry, one can sense within those simple, daily tasks, a presence there.  One who is there in the doing and in the things themselves...trees and plants, pots, pans, children and the wild, uncontrollable way they can invade one's world.  The friends with whom you share a ride, or the young woman at the checkout line in the grocery store.  If I am feeling stressed and harried and "too busy" for such nonsense, I stop for a moment and breathe.  I breathe deeply and become aware of the environment around me.  It only takes a moment.  And my perspective shifts.

When the earth shifts beneath your feet...and there are so many ways that can happen in the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual dimensions...remember to breathe, let yourself remember where you are.  And know that you are never alone.  It is an invitation to remember the sacred in these simple gifts, that need us to pay attention to caring for them.   

A Bug's Eye View

"A Bug's Eye View"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved.

     The little dew drops are new to me, I hadn't seen them before when I looked at this photo.  Isn't that interesting?  That is just what I was thinking that I would write about.  We see things we've never seen before when we look at them with a new perspective.  That is more than a little amazing, really, when you think about it!  The "Bird's Eye View" gets talked about, more than it's fair share I think.  Everyone would like to fly and see the lay of the land, get the big picture in their minds.  But you know looking at things from the bug's eye is really important.  You see things you would otherwise miss, and the little things become terribly important from a bug's position in life.
     For instance, is the grass organic?  pesticide free?  Now of course this is a question that a bug really can't answer in advance, and once he eats it, well, there's life or death.  That's about it for the bug.  The sunrise is still available for bugs to see.  In fact, a day without sunshine is often a day spent hiding under a leaf, hoping it doesn't rain so hard you drown.  So I imagine they are happy the days that the sun comes up.  It doesn't shine every day here in the foothills of the mountains.  We get plenty of rain!  And then there is the issue of people walking on your turf.  I mean, humans just don't think about the life that they may be squashing as they walk along.  There isn't always time to crawl or fly out of the way. 
     Well you get my drift.  Try looking at things from a different perspective today.  From a position that may be what many consider "less than" your own.  Remember how important the little things can be.  And then take care of the little things when you are able.  But most important of all, remember that other human beings are NOT bugs.  (Well by far the majority of them!)

A Certain Quality of Light

"Quality of Light"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

This photo, taken at another favorite spot, reminds me of a Thomas Kinkaid painting.  So that's where he gets his inspiration!  Up at the crack of dawn or waiting for sunset.  Those clouds and that sky reflected in the river is just what it looked like this morning...those wonderful hues of gold and yellow, lavender, blue, pink, even purple.  The great artists have taught us that there are many more colors to be seen that we see at first glance. 

For a while, when I was in my thirties, I lived in a place called the Colstein Valley at a very northern-most point in California.  You could see Mount Shasta (an exceedingly magical place), off in the distance.  Our neighbors grew asparagus (yum!), and my friend and I lived in a big old farmhouse, with a "REAL" pantry and potato bin.  The thing that I so remember about that place, aside from a mystical mountain so close at hand, was the quality of the light.  It ALWAYS seemed golden to me...a bit like the photo.  Every walk I took, every day that I planted seeds beneath it, every moment I sat at my desk looking out at the valley, every blanket of snowfall that reflected it, made me feel there was something special, healing and miraculous about the light. 

I always remember the one day I stepped outside at daybreak and I felt as though I was being whooshed away, someplace out of my body for a moment, the scene before me so startling.  That it took my breath away is an understatement.  For one terrifying and oddly exhuberant moment I honestly thought the sky was on fire.  That wide open horizon was a deep crimson with odd formations of clouds stretched out as far as could be seen. 

Well, the light this morning reminded me of that place.  It was tinged with the miraculous, and I felt it all the way through me.  

Magic

"Magic"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

These magical things happen in the wee hours of the morn, don't ya know?  There in the green wood where the little people live.  If you tread lightly, so lightly that not a twig is disturbed, not a leaf is rustled, you might see a fairy or an elf...you might get a glimpse of the magic, and 'tis the magic that can change your life!  Yes, magic will turn it upside down and inside out, bring you something you've always dreamed of having, make a wish come true.  So gaze a while at the magic of this picture, imagine yourself there, and make a wish!  But be very careful and wise about what you wish for!  You only have the one wish.  Be very specific.  Write down your wish with all it's specifics, and then take it to the green wood.  Bury it there with a penny, near water and near a tree.  And see what happens! 

It might just be that Caris is full of the blarney and is pullin' your leg.  Or it may be that magic is waiting for you!  A miracle.  A hope.  A dream.  "Nothing Ventured, nothing gained..."  as the old saying goes. 

The Echoes

"The Barn and the Wild Flowers"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

     What are those purple flowers that come out this time of year here in upstate New York?  I'm not sure.  but there's goldenrod and Queen Anne's Lace, and lots of grass, and probably some sort of ivy growing on the barn.  It's a lovely scene isn't it?  A common scene around these parts, those old barns that remain standing long after they are useful.  I love the sight of them.  And I like to think about the people who built them so many years ago.  What were their lives like?  Who were they?  What and who did they love most in this world?  What kind of animals did the barns house?  Were there children who played in the hayloft?
     Those old barns have echoes in them...echoes of another time.  Laughter shared there, tears wept, anger expressed.  Calves and chicks and colts being born there over the years.  The milking done every morning.  The chickens fed.  the animals tended to.  Did hobos sleep there when they passed through back in the depression years?  Was the farmer who owned the barn, probably several over the years, so were they kind?  angry?  a mixture?  Were they people of faith?  And did he have a wife and children?  And what was she like?  The woman, the women who came to the barn each morning to help with the chores?  There are so many untold stories of seemingly ordinary lives, that had their drama, the heartaches, their secrets.
     Next time you pass one of those old barns, think on it a bit.  So many stories...

Abundance

"Abundance"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved.

This photo is so full of abundance, the berries, the flowers, the leaves, the water.  We have all heard, and many of us have probably been accused of, scarcity thinking!  And indeed, perhaps we have at times been rightfully accused.  See the glass as half full instead of half empty...see the abundance that you already have instead of focusing on all that you don't have.  One of my favorite professors, part Irish, part Native American used to talk about abundance..."The trouble is" he would say, "Mother Nature does not understand limits.  You want rain?  Mother Nature sends rain...buckets and buckets and buckets full at times.  Too much rain?  More sunshine?  And then suddenly you are in the middle of a drought.  Why doesn't she deliver things in moderation?"  And I would laugh, and still do.  It's true.  Mother Nature is rather dramatic in her gestures, extravagant in her gifts.

I could get serious here, but there will be other days to talk about global warming.  I'm wondering at the moment where you are feeling an abundance in your life.  Maybe I will ponder that one.  At the present I am feeling an abundance of spiritual nourishment in my life, and for that I am ever grateful.  And there are many more ways as well...  

Breakfast at the Reservoir

"The Dawn Comes Softly"  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

It is difficult to see in this photograph...or at least distinguish as such, but on the branch in the distance, a bird is sitting, it is a blue heron.  It is waiting for breakfast to present itself.  It knows that if one is patient enough, and watches for the opportunity to arrive, daily food will offer itself. 

Each morning I return to this place I think to myself, I've taken all the really good photos I'm going to find here.  It's going just be more of the same old stuff.  But every day is new.  Every day new opportunities arrive, with their own colors and texture, their own beauty.  Each day belongs to itself.  And certainly the overall look of the land remains similar, but the daily changes keep things fresh and new, feed my spirit in ways I never expect.  Sometimes it means being patient, waiting for the opportunity to present itself.  It means showing up and watching in the quiet of the dawn or the restfulness of the evening.  It means being present with every bit of oneself, present to the sights, the sounds, the feelings, the smells, even the taste of the air.  It means opening oneself to the wonder, knowing it will not disappoint us. 

"A Quiet Light"  copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved.

Isn't nature amazing?  Her endless creativity, the beauty she grows for us, the peace she brings us, all take my breath away most days.  Seemingly ordinary things like trees, have such a sacred presence.  For me, some days it's just enough to sit beneath a tree and breath in the fresh air that the tree helps to make.  What an intricate, interdependent system nature is!  Yes, I'm a tree hugger.  We have lost our old growth forests here in the east, but visiting those places in the west is a gift I hope and pray we give to the children and their children,  and their children...  We have been given the greatest of gifts in the world around us, and it is in our best interest to protect it from ourselves.  We like to put the blame on the big corporations, yadayada, but the truth of the matter is that most people are invested in those big companies.  We support corporate America in ways we are often unaware of.  The care of the earth and it's future depend upon us...each of us, the choices, small and large we make each day will have lasting effects.

Go out and love it today.  Gaze at some beauty.  Breathe some fresh air.  Take a walk and listen to the trees.

Copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

This my friends, is a very happy dog!  I took the photo at about 6:30 this morning on a walk at a favorite spot.  Madeline is thrilled to be out and about, exploring the world of smells and sights and sounds.  Indeed...jumping for joy. 

Enthusiasm is catching, isn't it?  We find ourselves getting excited when someone else comes bursting onto the scene with excitement about a project or situation.  Something that looked fairly ordinary just moments before takes on a new sparkle.  Madeline's excitement always makes me smile.  So now I have this picture to remind me that life is good...that all the ordinary stuff is really miraculous!  REALLY!  IT IS!!!!!

Mysterious Gifts

Geese in the Mist    Copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

Another photo from yesterday morning, and our walk at the reservoir.  When we first came down the path Madeline and I both heard something in the woods to the left.  It sounded like a dog barking at first.  But then I realized it was a goose.  The sounds that came from the forest yesterday were so mysterious.  First the geese, a mystery that resolved itself.  Then there was some loud knocking sounds.  I am guessing it was a woodpecker.  Why do they always surprise me?  And then there were loud, snapping twigs.  That made me a little nervous, though with Madeline there I feel a bit more secure.  The mist made everything feel more mysterious, and maybe even dangerous.  Though what is dangerous about a bunch of geese on the water?

A stream which has run for many years down into the lake, seems to be changing course.  The creekbed was dry yesterday, but I could hear running water upstream, and on the other side of the dry ditch was lots of water and mud.  So we didn't continue past the creek, which we usually do.  There's a delightful path down through tall grass near the water.  (Where I took the dragonfly photo.)  You are completely obscured from everything and everyone else for a while, and then you can go to little clearings down by the water, where sometimes people fish.  And speaking of fish, a large one jumped up from the water yesterday as I was walking.  No, I didn't see it.  Only heard and saw the big splash.  I am never looking in the right place when a fish jumps.  I always wonder how people get those photos.  

Seek out some beauty today and be sure to try and make someone laugh.  And surprise someone with a kindness.  Love this world and the people in it.  Life goes by so quickly.  And when it comes around, enjoy that delicious sense of mystery that gives you goose bumps, and so often reveals some lovely, extraordinary surprise. 

Morning at the Reservoir

"Misty Morning"  copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

Took an early morning meander at the reservoir.   There was mist everywhere, until the sun came through on this shot.  It came out nicely, so I thought I would share.  Madeline was happy to be out and about at the time of day, and I was as well.  Got a good amount done before I had to leave for an appointment at 10:00.

Last night at our writing group, a bunch of youngsters came in and sat down really near where we were working.  Our numbers were down last night, there were just four of us.  The dynamics with the kids in the room really changed.  I was aware of what I was writing and whether it was proper for them to hear.  I was also wondering why they had to sit there, I felt annoyed.  A couple of us had that reaction, while another woman was so happy to see them and watch their interactions with each other.  When they started using the "B" word, I stared at them, which caused one of their number to start laughing uncontrollably and shoot stuff out of her nose.  They moved along eventually.

Writing felt good last night.  I've been so grateful for that group.  My upsets and frustrations just melt away that hour and a half, and I'm not the only one for whom that is true.  There's something magic about doing writing practice together, and every once in a while I feel out of it, and my writing feels awkward and stilted, but that's part of the process.  The junk is part of the process.  It clears the way for the really good stuff to come out.  I may share one of my pieces with you tomorrow.

Late in the Season...

Copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

Not sure what the fruit like things are in this photo.  But was hoping to catch a raindrop or two.  You can see them, but they aren't defined.  I guess I should take some lessons and learn to use the camera.  But I think I'm feeling a bit like this tree...it's late in the season!  I usually like to learn new things, but I think as we age, it seems to be more of a push to put myself out there to do it.  It's still possible.  And I do learn new things.  And sometimes I just refuse, hearing an old person's voice in my head:  "I've lived this long without it!" 

copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

Dragonflies, crab apple trees and apple trees are starting to lose the young look about them.  Especially on rainy days.  That isn't such a terrible thing you know.  This is the beginning of the harvest, and the apples will be ripe before long...filling the bins at the grocers with their wonderful aroma.  I noticed that Pennsylvania peaches are being sold at the local fruit and vegetable stands.  Yum.  I will make a special trip, as a perfect peach reminds me of all that is Divine! 

Those of us feeling a bit tattered at this time of our lives, well this is a time that we bear fruit.  The apple tree in the back yard, there is a branch broken...though it hasn't broken completely off.  And even that branch is filled with apples.  Where are they getting the nourishment to grow and to ripen? 

I've been reading about Mother Theresa after the age 50.
She was feeling as though God didn't want her, didn't love her any longer.  She felt cut off, perhaps like that tree branch, and yet her life bore so much fruit.  She just kept doing her work, however she felt, bringing cheerfulness to her Sisters of Charity, and to the dying and the poor of the world.  What happens at this age?  Why do so many people feel profoundly different than they have felt at other times in their lives? 

The View Out the Window...

Within the Borders....copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

There is a song I listen to by Michael Kelly Blanchard called "The View Out the Window."  the remainder of the first line goes:  "is just a piece of the sky."  We can only see so much from we are.  We can't always see or understand what is going on from a wider perspective.  We cannot know how our actions will effect the wider view over time.  But you can be sure that what you do and say today, will have long term effects.  Sometimes the smallest of things can make all the difference in the world to the bigger story.  That whisper, that piece of gossip that is repeated does serious damage.  By the same token, a kind word can mean a difference in someone's life, focusing on the good can bring healing.  

Life is Good

Life is Good   copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

All along the way we find the beauty and the things we need to nourish us, body and soul.  Sometimes we forget the blessings.  I had a tooth pulled the other day and ever since have been on the cranky side of things.  Grumble, grumble.  But even in the midst of the pain and the fatigue that comes along with this minor inconvenience, gifts appear.  My friend who drove me to the dentist and went and got me ice cream and yogurt to eat; the dentist himself who is a gentle fellow with a great sense of humor and who has great patience with me; a phone call with a friend; a comment about my blog.  And there is a very good book I'm reading called:  Secret Daughter by shilpi somaya gowda (that's how her name appears on the book.)

This morning I slipped into church...I'd forgotten the time is different in the summer.  But the few moments I stayed were spent in silence.  Nice.  And then I went for a drive in the country, some back roads and found myself stopping on the way home for BBQ chicken.  There in the parking lot was a woman with whom there was unfinished business.  Sigh.  This unending work around making amends is sometimes an exhausting process, but I did ask forgiveness.  She responded as so many of us do, with a "that's alright" and a smile.  But it wasn't alright.  I had hurt her, and it was important for her to know that I knew that.  Asking forgiveness of someone is such a humbling thing, and it brought up some difficult memories and some sadness.  I guess that's why asking forgiveness is a bit like pulling teeth, eh?  It hurts a bit.  But the gifts which come from doing so are as big as all outdoors.  My face and mouth are feeling a bit better, and so is my heart.

Mileage

Mileage .... copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

There must be a story here...maybe several!  Wish I spoke Dragonfly so I could hear about it.  My camera picked up more than I actually saw of this little one.  He has been around for a while!  Looking a bit flea bitten and aged.  Some people would throw the picture away, but for me it speaks volumes and reminds me of life's reality.  We get thrown some tough stuff, and some of us have our wings clipped.   We're all not quite so perfect and beautiful as some others, or perhaps even as we once were.  But we've got character!  Welcome to reality!!!   This dragonfly could still fly, and followed me down the path as I was walking yesterday. It's all good, right?   Dragonflies are supposed to be signs of rebirth, new life.  This little sign might have a bit more to say than your average one. 

Have a great day, and maybe let this photo come back into your consciousness today, as you see the people around you.  Listen for the story! 

There is a place...

Hospitality - copyright 2010, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

There is a place waiting for you today.  A place of peace and contemplation.  A place where beauty thrives, a place prepared for you to come and sit, to feel the beating of your own heart, to let the warmth of the sun caress your skin and the breeze to play with your hair.  It is an almost wild place where a beautiful doe and her fawn just may wander out of the tall grasses where they have been resting, and meander down to the stream for a drink at the water's edge.  And just off to your right a chipmunk may chirp at you, stopping to gather food into his mouth with those tiny paws and all the while watching you watch him. 

I do hope you go there and sit for a while, and let yourself remember yourself in the shade of a pine tree who has weathered many storms.  And on the way, you may find a wild blackberry or two waiting to burst upon your taste buds as you revel in the solitude.

Kindness

 "The Kindness of Mother Earth" copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved

One of the weekly emails I receive, talked about kindness today.  The writer, Joan Chittester gave quotes from Buddha, the Dalai Lama, the Talmud to name a few.  But I love her words, they are rambling around in my heart and mind and perhaps even settling into my spirit:   

             The whole world changes when we know ourselves. We gentle it. The fruit of self-knowledge is kindness.  Broken ourselves, we bind tenderly the wounds of the other. 

Today, I went to the clinic to see a Rheumatologist.  Now I sometimes have issues in going to the doctor, but this particular doctor was kindness personified from the moment he walked into the room.  I felt myself relax as he listened and asked questions that ran the gamut from medications I take to what kind of music I like to play.  He addressed issues that doctors are sometimes prone to get rather intense about, in a way that let me hear what he was saying instead of how he was saying it.  

Later I went downstairs to have blood drawn.  The young woman who was to draw my blood was also the personification of kindness, as she palpated my arm looking for my veins which are always deep and difficult to find.  She was new at her job, and when she had difficulty she went to her supervisor who drew the blood, getting the vein on the first try.  I wasn't quite brave enough to offer the newbie my arm to poke and prod.  Almost spoke up.  But almost doesn't count.  .



Driving home I felt a profound sense of gratitude.  There have been other times in my life when things turned out differently than today.  It was ok.  Maybe even better than ok.  Gentle doctors and phlebotomists were a wonderful gift.  The past couple of days there have been many kindnesses extended to me, and each one feeds my own ability to be kind to another.


Mother Earth is kind today as well...giving a day here that is cool and breezy and reminds us that autumn is around the corner.  Snuggling under the blanket with my book was a pleasure last night.


Kindness is such an easy thing to give.  Stopping to listen and pay attention and meet a need...
Go practice those random acts today...maybe we'll pass each other on the way.

Coming Home or Deformed?

Transformation

Dr. Alice S. Kandell Collection of Sikkim Photographs  public domain library of congress photos

 In other times and other cultures we might think of negative energy in different terms:  demonic or unclean are words that come to mind.  Evil.  I still believe in evil...though not necessarily a personified evil.  When a force seeks to x out the humanity, the value, the beauty of a human being, I think of that as evil.  And yet, even that kind of thing can be transformed, changed, shifted, turned on its head.  Madeline L'Engle writes about some of that in her children's story:  A Wrinkle in Time.  Something that wasn't recommended for adults because it was too scary!  Imagine that.  But it wound up on the bookshelves for children. 

Thinking about my blog entry from yesterday, I wonder if perhaps there is some way for that terrible shooting to be transformed, that instead of dividing the community, it could bring us together, help us to figure out ways of healing what has happened.  That shooting is more than the act itself.  It does represent some terribly, ugly thing, a shadow that has taken root here.  When someone is different.  When someone is not understood or misunderstood, there is great offense taken, and somehow it grows.  It erupted in violence between these two young men.  But I wonder if we ever consider the hidden agendas that animosity creates.  It can become insidious when anger is allowed to take root in our hearts.  It grows and it grows.

In the small communities of upstate New York, most often the work is done by way of gossip.  People take some piece of information they have about someone else's life and put it on the round of gossip.  That is all that is necessary.  From person to person the story and stories grow into something that becomes unrecognizable.  A person's life may lay in ruins because of the gossip.  They may lose their job.  They may be shunned.  They may have friends shut them out of their lives.  This seems every bit as violent and angry as a shooting.  There is malicious intent lying beneath it.  And the thing that makes it most evil of all, is the unfairness.  There is no way for someone to defend himself or herself from things that they don't even know are being said.

So how about if we try to transform such things when they reach us.  How about when something negative is said, suggesting that the person relaying the information go with you to the person being talked about.  Suggest that the truth be learned.  Suggest that things be set right.  Suggest that you learn the true intentions behind that person's behavior.  And remind them of all the good things you know about so and so.   

It is not always as simple as that.  But I wonder if these two boys had sat down face to face and had to work through the issues, found common ground, learned to see each other as human, perhaps a shooting would never have taken place.  What does it take to see each other as human?   

Prejudice

There was a shooting not long ago, and the judge has ruled that it was a hate crime. The shooter is a young man, not yet out of high school. He shot an African American student. There are many variations on the story going on, but today in the paper, there was a well written editorial by a pastor in the community. He talked about looking for the shadows within ourselves that have created such an environment...that we can't just lay it all on this young man's shoulders. We are all participants, that we in some way keep the problem going.

What makes it so difficult to see our differences and celebrate them...and then see what brings us together and celebrate our unity? What makes it so important to eradicate and destroy those who are different?

Home

Public Domain Image, compliments of NASA

Home

      What does that word mean? There are as many meanings as there are people in this world.

     So what comes to your mind when you think of “home?”  

     My answer to that question is a sense of safety, familiarity, a refuge, comfort, challenge, tenderness, warmth, a place of laughter and where tears are honored, favorite foods, the place you feel accepted, the place you are seen and known and loved, no matter what...these are a part of my list.

      Some people moved often during their lives, and so “home” is a concept that travels with them, not necessarily a certain place. But for most of us, the familiarity of a landscape, the manifestation of the earth beneath our feet...snow capped mountains or wind blown prairies, pine trees, maples, oaks, birch and ash...or perhaps no trees at all, or scrub oaks and old growth forest, or giant redwood trees. Perhaps the ocean stretching far onto the horizon, and the sight of sailing boats and seagulls bring that sense of having your feet beneath you, the energy that keeps your heart beating.

      For many if not most people, people also come along with a sense of home. Dad and Mom, uncles and aunts, sisters and brothers and cousins, new babies, grandparents...sitting down together and eating all of the major feasts...And looking across the table at these well loved and sometimes annoying faces, each wrinkle and line, eye color, skin tone, those familiar ears that stick out on Uncle James and make you smile, and Aunt Emily's slightly vacant look, Cousin Tommy's nervous twitch and Dad's big booming voice that is usually laughing and carrying on, but can be a little frightening. You know what I mean.

      Or perhaps your home is filled with “family” that are well loved, long term friends, of the human variety certainly, but also dogs and cats, even turtles and fish for some. Or maybe your sense of home comes in the form of just one other person with whom you are spending a lifetime.

      Of course familiar rituals and food are all about a sense of home and belonging. The aroma of baking bread or that well loved cobbler, taking a long walk after dinner or first thing in the morning...

      And then some of us do not have families of origin to return to. Some of us rely on our identity as Buddhist or Christian or Muslim. Some of us feel engulfed in a faith tradition that gives us a sense of who we are and what is most valuable to us. And we know that even if there are a multitude of changes in interpretation or leadership, we will always have a sense of rootedness in a faith that gives us compass and comfort throughout our lives.

      Our earthly bodies are where we spend all of our years here on earth. Isn't it sad that we are sent so many messages that our bodies don't measure up...aren't pretty enough, aren't small enough, aren't athletic enough, aren't perfect enough? We look in the mirror and find so many things with which we are unhappy about our bodies. And yet, this is the one thing that we know will be with us throughout our journey here, and it is a miraculous thing, full of molecules and atoms and mitochondria. We may dislike what we see, but our bodies are just amazing, stunning creations, able to process information through our senses, sight, sound, smell, taste, touching...and what an extravaganza we experience through each of those senses. Smell alone can conjure up dozens of memories in a single moment, transporting us to half a lifetime ago. The gift of touch offers such an array of sensation, pleasure, pain, and everything in between.

      “Home” is a complex topic. And I'm not sure what happens when someone is set adrift in life, without a sense of home in some way...having lost family and faith and place. What if one even feels that one's body has been a source of betrayal? What happens when we do not have a “place” or “people” or a faith tradition that is home to us? What if there is no sense of belonging anywhere? What happens then? The thought is disturbing.  And yet, whatever we have lost or may not have, we are still children of this earth.

      I think I will take a little time with Pitty Pat and maybe make something familiar and wonderful today that fills my mind with memories. And give my friends some extra big hugs.

Opening

Copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All rights reserved.

Last night this flower was drooping, and I thought the whole thing had died.  Good grief.  It's life hadn't been long. I thought to myself.   But this morning it is happily drinking in the sun, showing off its beautiful colors. 

Given the right environment, most of us will open up and show our best colors.  Sometimes it takes a while to find that perfect spot, but one day it arrives and there we are. 

Color

copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

There is such a theme of diversity throughout nature.  I'm not sure where the term:  "It goes against nature" comes from, but it's really a very rare occurence that something goes against this force which allows for such differences within it.

I love black eyed susans.  They're one of my favorite flowers, and there are places here that they grow wild.  The photo isn't of one of those places, but I have found them, growing alone in the midst of a field.  Or growing with just a few others around.  I wonder if they are a natural wildflower to the area, or if someone brought them here.  They are in the same field out on State Land, where one summer a friend and I walked at dusk and found hundreds of fireflies dancing above it.  It seems to be a special place.  

Color is a natural thing.  I would find it very hard to lose my eyesight, though a loss of hearing would be just as difficult.  One adjusts.  But I would miss seeing the diversity of life around me...the different shades of skin and eye colors, the amazing miracle of wildflowers, and lately I have discovered Hibiscus.  (For some reason I thought they were giant poppies!  Go ahead, you can laugh at me.)  Our lawn person planted a Hibiscus in the back yard, among my beloved zinnias.  It is a dark maroon.  Maybe I'll take a photo of it, and show it to you.  One day there was just the plant there.  I didn't know what it was, though the leaves were large and dark.  And then the other day I went out and the flowers had suddenly appeared.  Isn't nature an amazing thing?  I love color. 

Light and Shadow

sunset at the pond, copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

There is a tendency in our dualistic culture to somehow connect light with all goodness, and shadows or darkness with the bad.  And yet if we look around us at the play between light and shadow, we see a different truth played out.  The most beautiful photos often happen in the early morning hours, or near/after sunset.  There is a special quality to the light that makes for some of those amazing and breathtaking shots.  The best photographers know that.  The play between light and shadow is an amazing dance.

Our lives are filled with the same kind of a dance.  The difficult, darker things make for beauty when combined with the lighter, happy stuff.

There is a strange kind of spirituality floating around out there that tells people to surround themselves with happy, positive people.  Don't get close to people with problems or illness.  They wound up there because they somehow thought themselves into it.  If you want to be successful and together and on top of your game, just hang out with the successful, top of the game people.

This is weirdness to me.  I don't get it.  I guess that must be why Mother Theresa struggled with her faith...she hung out with the wrong kinds of people!  You hang out with people who are dying, and so poor, you wind up dying and poor yourself.  Oh yeah...that was the point with her, wasn't it?  She chose poverty.  She acknowledged the brevity of life.  And her faith centered on the One who knows how to mend the broken hearted.

Or maybe that's why Martin Luther King Jr. was killed....or Ghandi...or Bishop Romero...well, they hung out with the poor, the oppressed, the outcasts.  So they wound up unsuccessful and eventually murdered.

Oh dear....this is me, Caris, being sarcastic!  Someone told me today that I had a very devious mind!  I had a friend like that...he was always in your face on this kind of stuff.  If you were too happy, he was going to balance things out, and if you were really down, well he was going to figure out how to bring you back up.  He was one of my favorite people.

I gotta tell you...the people above have the kind of success I want in my life.  Those are the heroic people.  Not the Fortune 500 executives who make money on the backs of the poor.

By the way, that little white thing in the photograph that looks like a piece of trash is in fact the beginning bloom of a water lily.  Funny isn't it...the photo is somehow disturbing with it there at the bottom.  I thought I should crop it out, but it somehow plays into this conversation about light and shadow.  Sometimes when you look in the shadows and see something that doesn't seem to belong, there is an assumption that it is garbage or a piece of trash.  Never assume...beauty needs the darkness as well as the light in order to grow.

That doesn't excuse the choices people deliberately make for evil...causing other people grief and pain.  But it is only when we are aware of the shadows as well as the light within us, that we can make wise and loving choices.  Focusing only on the happiness and the light in ourselves, we can do immeasurable harm without even knowing that we are doing it.

A Simple Gift

Leaves of Grass, copyright 2011 by Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

"A Child said to me, 'what is grass?' fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child?....I do not know what it is anymore than he..." 
                                           Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass

That little patch of lawn outside my window, carefully cut, kept neat and contained has lost its sense of wildness, though if it were left alone for just a few months, it would regain its original identity fully.  Still, those leaves of grass are home to more forms of life than the naked eye can see, or even a canine nose can track. 

Some time ago, I worked as a chaplain at a nursing home.  One day one of the activity assistants asked a circle of women what they missed most.  Imagine that...imagine being there in a home for elders, toward the end of your life, when loss has come at you from every direction imaginable.  Losing your home, losing a spouse, outliving relatives and friends, watching your body change, losing some of your basic functions, so much loss.  A question such as that one would be likely to bring a flood of emotion.  But one woman looked up and said:  I miss going barefoot, walking in the grass, feeling it tickle my toes.

So the activity assistant got some boxes and planted grass, watched it sprout.  By that time the women had forgotten the question and were surprised to see her bring a box of grass and sit on the floor beside the woman who had missed going barefoot.  Socks and shoes were removed and I doubt that a soft blanket of grass ever felt so wonderful to anyone on the planet.  such kindnesses we humans are capable of offering. 

Perhaps the generals and political leaders in our world should be told this story, and then go walking barefoot together on a lush, green lawn.  And be reminded of the simple sweetness of life, the kindnesses beneath our feet and above our heads and at our sides.  Perhaps peace could be found there in the kindness.

Days Passing

Leaves of grass...copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

So are you scared to Fail? or to Succeed?

Copyright 2010, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

There is some beautiful writing about this idea...I think a speech that Nelson Mandela gave at one point?  The essence is that we are afraid to fail, but we are more afraid to succeed.

A friend today was talking about how sometimes when we shine brightly with a gift, our light can actually hurt another person.  She put it in such a compassionate way.  Some might have simply called it "jealousy."    I hadn't thought about that before, but in thinking about it, it certainly makes sense.  Some people come into the world with certain gifts...a certain kind of shimmering magic that stirs up joy and happiness wherever they go.  Each of us has a gift for something.  Each of us has a calling.  But some gifts and some callings are more visible and easy to love than others. 

I had a friend once who was very charismatic, very outgoing, always the center of attention.  And it was hard to be her friend.  Not all of the time of course.  We were very close friends and absolutely delighted in each other's gifts and abilities.  We would work on projects and there was a synergy that happened which rarely happened at other times in our lives.  We shook things up at the school we attended, stood up to injustices, laughed until we cried and then cried until we laughed, and once we even chased demons away.  Professors from old paradigms shook in their boots when they saw us come into their classes.  Friends and laughter and community seemed a natural extension of the energy of our friendship.  Especially our last year.

There was a time however, during our second year of graduate school when I pulled away for a while.  I think it was an inner wisdom that knew it would be better for me not to walk in this friend's shadow.  That I needed somehow to make my own way, even if it was less than what happened when we came together.  I eventually caved.  Who wants to be left out?  And she certainly knew how to draw people to herself.   There was a portal there...a moment in time when my choice to stand on my own might have resulted in a very different life than the one I now live.  I will never know what lay on the other side of that portal, but I missed something important in ignoring it.

When graduation night arrived, we were all excited, and sad and scared about what kinds of things the future held.  And when the awards began I held my breath, my heart beating faster, hopeful for recognition, hopeful that my gifts were seen.  We all want to be seen on some level.  We all need attention at times.  And school had been one of the places I found affirmation in my life.  One of the only places for many years.  My identity centered on that.  Not healthy.  A bit of idolatry, true.  But my reality.

Each award except for one went to my friend.  And each time she got up to accept one, I found myself feeling nauseous, I felt myself sinking into my seat and pulling into myself, further and further.  It is hard to explain.  Jealousy?  Yes.  And I used to feel guilty about that, but now I know that jealousy is a tough love friend. Being second in the class that graduation didn't feel enough to me.  Second place wasn't announced.  After graduation I left and went to my room.  We were supposed to be celebrating together, and looking at it from a distance, my inability to do that seems small of me, lacking in generosity.  And yes it was.  And it was also impossible.  I'd gotten triggered.  the PTSD left me sitting alone, unable to celebrate or hope or feel that life was in any way possible for me.   That was the end of our friendship...and not by my choice.  Given her own experiences, she felt it impossible to continue a friendship after such a betrayal.

To me there is no longer right or wrong.  Only human beings with deep wounds, imperfections, and fear that is so destructive.  If I had my druthers there would have been forgiveness and reconciliation.  But when someone or circumstance strikes us at the core, sometimes that is not possible.  Perhaps forgiveness, but not reconciliation.

A sad story...and yet here I am, and perhaps some greater power was shuffling me out of the way of a lifetime of living in someone's shadow.  And indeed, now I have experienced the other side of the coin.  My gifts threaten at times, hurt others at times...just my being who I am is impossible for others to receive...at times.  And I know the wound of that now.  I also know the joy of shining brightly in my own right, and at times being welcomed fully for who I am as well as what I do.    

Imperfection

copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved

Is this photo and this flower really less beautiful than a "perfect" one?  Do we spend inordinate amounts of time looking for the perfect...in ourselves and each other?  I was reading a short article in one of my favorite magazines:  The Sun, and the title was "His Weirdness".  It was all about a man who was dying, and all these quirky things the people around him just hate and love at the same time.  But the weirdness is probably what they will miss the most.  Imperfection can be the thing that makes someone so loveable, so memorable, so dear.

Funny, this photo looks different to me now.  It definitely tickles my fancy...makes me smile.  Perhaps these flowers are actually reveling in their eccentricities....a petal out of place here, a drooping leaf...who woulda thought?  Only someone who can appreciate eccentricity, eh? 

Danger...

This morning it was time to pick up some prescriptions that had been waiting for me at the pharmacy for several days.  I had pulled into the parking lot, parked the car and headed across the asphalt toward the store.  I was looking down, as I often do these days, looking for obstacles?  When I saw something small and grey that almost matched the color of the pavement.  What was that?  I looked closer.  It was a baby mouse.  Tiny and grey and staying very still as this giant loomed overhead.

Such a predicament.  I couldn't leave that little guy there.  He or She might get smashed flat as a pancake by some car driving along.  So I bent over, thinking I would try to pick him up by his tail.  Squeak.  I was worried he might bite.  I let go of him before I could lift him up.  What else could I do?  I dug around in my bag and came out with a magazine which I put down in front of him, hoping he would climb right up on it and I could lift him to safety. 

No such luck.  He wasn't tuning in to my good intentions.  He tried to climb the curb but it was too high.  Then he started to run away, along the corner where the curb met the parking lot.  My goodness those tiny little feet moved so quickly.  He turned around a couple of times, but I kept the magazine behind him, not sure exactly what I had in mind, but it was better than what reality might very well dish out.  We made our way down the curb, when a mother and a little boy came out and noticed what I was doing. 

"A mouse?  We need to get him up on the sidewalk..."

"Yes."  And she produced a piece of paper.  Between her paper and my magazine, we got the mouse up onto the curb.  The mouse promptly ran for the cover of the grass and bushes near the building.

I thought a proper mouse blessing..."may you never hunger, and may mousetraps and poison stay far, far away from you." 

There are some lovely people out in the world.  And some really angry people as well, and some others that are just cold hearted.  How does one determine someone's intention?  It isn't easy.  Poor mouse didn't know I was only trying to help.  For all he knew I was some fiercesome monster trying to capture him for medical experiments. 

Of course, there are times when someone greater than ourselves sees our whole situation and is trying to steer us away from something terrible that could be looming, but we can't see it, because we are relatively small in this vast universe.  Hopefully the someone greater has the just the right thing in their bag to corral us and lift us to safety.     

100th post

copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, all rights reserved.

This is my 100th post on She Who Listens!  Send me a message at cariscerdwyn@yahoo.com that you visited today, and if you'd like I will send you a small gift to celebrate.

We took a long walk at one of our favorite places to go yesterday morning.  And later, in the evening, I took a walk up by the resevoir, trying to capture a bit of the magic there.  Pink clouds, water like glass, the peaceful quiet of a summer evening.  There were two groups of college kids there last night, and that was fine with me.  Normally, Madeline the dog is at my side, but I was alone last night.  It's always nice to hear other peoples' voices and laughter when you're on your own.  A little less lonely somehow.

Driving down the road, there was an amazing vista bathed in pink mist and dark hills.  I hope the photos come out well.

Beauty is one of the constants around here.  It is a comfort when other things go badly, or people aren't quite shining with that illuminating light one would hope they might have.  Horses in a meadow, cows meandering through a pasture, eating the green grass which grows every which way you might turn.  There are mountain streams, cold and fresh, and rivers that sometimes overflow their banks when the rains are heavy.  Humming birds, yellow finches, great blue herons, cardinals, cedar waxwings, bob cats, bear and deer fill the woods.  The trees themselves tell such stories of life in this place.  There are waterfalls, and long views over the great hills which are called the Catskill Mountains which take your breath away.

Coming down River street last night, driving slowly, a deer and her fawn ran across the road through the beams of my headlights.

What beauty is all around us.  Day after day, evening after evening, moonlit night after night.