September 12th

The 250 color slides made at the World Trade Towers in New York City on September 11, 2001, received from the New York District Attorney's office from an unattributed photographer, are in the public domain. These slides were received from the New York District Attorney's office with the photographer relinquishing any and all copyright and right of attribution. Therefore, the photographer's name will not be associated with these photographs. Privacy and publicity rights may apply.  Credit line shall read "Courtesy of the Prints and Photographs Division. Library of Congress."

Today is a good day to remember because it is the day following September 11th.  A pastor from an email list I receive, said that perhaps we have allowed September 11th to define us.  He may be right.  He also said to remember September 12th.  The people who came to help, the men and women who risked their lives searching through the rubble.  The support that came from friends and relatives of the survivors.  The outpouring of support.  There was an unused church in the neighborhood that became the place the workers came to eat and to rest.  Meals were served without cost.  People donated food.  The finest chefs in the city were volunteering their time to cool the meals.

Let's remember September 12th.  All the kindness from people around the world who reached out, who prayed who sent messages of support and who came to help.  Fire and rescue workers came from Canada.  We could go on and on.  And I know that the people of New York, whether from the neighborhood of the Twin towers, the surrounding area, Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, the Bronx or from further afield, even those of us from upstate, do remember the strength that was found within and beside those who suffered:  those who lost their loved ones, those who were injured, those who lost their lives in the aftermath of 9/11.

I have a hard time remembering that day, even all these years later, without deep emotions surfacing.  I think I let it pass and speak of it later, so as to stay in some sort of balance.  Each personal story I hear about the event touches me deeply, and I know that for the people of New York, 9/11 has shaped and defined us.  And some of that may not be to our advantage, when fear has taken us down roads of anger and a desire for revenge.  But there was and is so much more than that...there was courage and love and a pulling together that makes me feel profound gratitude that I live in New York state.

Each day I receive an email from Diane Walker, "Contemplative Photography."  I think it comes a day late.  But in this context it was right on time.  May this be our prayer for those who have harmed us:


“O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted on us, remember the fruits we have bought, because of this suffering - our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, our courage, our generosity, the greatness of heart that has grown out of all of this, and when they come to judgement, let all the fruits we have borne be their forgiveness.”
 -- The prayer of an unknown woman, found on a piece of wrapping paper in Ravensbruck concentration camp; taken from Monica Furlong's book, Women Pray.

Walls

"Some Walls..."  Copyright 2011, Caris Cerdwyn, All Rights Reserved

I like the looks of this wall.  Makes me want to tuck prayers or wishes in its cracks.  It has its purpose where it is, and many walls do.  They create landscape, keep pests at bay, keep boundaries in place, make people feel safe, keep other people out...oh, that may not be the best purpose a wall can serve.  And of course it isn't just physical walls like this that I'm talking about.  We have all kinds of walls we put up around ourselves to protect ourselves.  Sometimes it's the "right people,"  sometimes it's an emotional wall, being aloof or distant, being curt or judgmental, using some substance to keep out the pain. 

Peter Paul and Mary used to sing a song called "Some Walls."  Some walls are made of stone, sometimes, we build our own, some walls stand for years, some melt away with tears. 

The other day one of Joan Chittister's emails arrived in my box with powerful words:  God comes in every voice, behind every face, in every memory, deep in every struggle. To close off any of them is to close off the possibility of becoming new again ourselves.
— Joan Chittister

A few years ago I put some walls in place that shut out some people that I had loved for a long time, and who had loved me.  I had gotten hurt and I couldn't find my way toward forgiving that hurt.  I cut off two longterm friendships.  Over time I've come to realize just how terrible a mistake that was.  But there's no going back.  I have opened my heart again, but the pain I caused now has a life of its own, and though in one case, the old friend has forgiven me, there is no longer a free and easy exchange.  Trust was broken and it will take time and a great deal of effort to heal.   In the other case, I've only recently "repented," and forgiveness may not come.

I don't like Sr. Chittister's words in some ways to be honest.  What about people who are being or have been abused?  They shouldn't step out of those relationships?  I find myself feeling the need to go out and buy some new bricks for one of my walls.  Some of them crumble before God's love and mercy.  But some things, though forgiveable, cannot be mended.  Sometimes a wall must remain for our own safety and wellbeing. 

Relationships are challenging.  Deeply challenging.  And the people we love the most, are the ones we cause the most pain.  It is also those people who can most deeply hurt us.  What's the solution?  Not bigger and thicker and higher walls, but bigger hearts.  

 

Hot Weather

I am already sweating this morning...of course I've been out for a brisk walk with the dog at 6:30, so that may account for some of it.  But most of it is this hot, humid stuff.  My joints ache, and I am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open most of the day.  This is the hardest time of the year for me in upstate New York.  Complain, complain, complain.  Where does it get us?  No place fast. 

So instead, I will think about the first fireflies I saw last night.  Just two.  and they weren't under the apple tree, where I usually see dozens. They were over by the lilac tree.  Soon enough the others will come and have a community dance out there in the back yard. 

This morning I was reading Pema Chodron again, and I appreciated the teaching.  We walk along in the ocean and a big wave comes and knocks us down.  We get up and we keep walking.  Even after water up our nose and sand in our face.  And after a while the waves will seem smaller.  That's what karma is like.  Is it karma?  Or is it just the way life is?  I find it hard to get my mind around the idea that we have payback for everything we do.  That children suffer because of something they've done in another lifetime. 

I guess for me, grace and forgiveness is my favorite thing about the Jesus road.  We walk along in the ocean and a big wave comes along and knocks us down.  This is life.  And life is full of suffering and difficulty.  We get back up and keep walking, even after we get water up our nose and sand in our face.  Continuing to walk is perhaps the sacrifice we talk about.  It is continuing to live and to give to others as best we can.  And if we keep walking each time we get knocked down, the waves sometimes get smaller.  Or maybe we learn to ride the waves.

We don't get to live in some happy, blissful Hollywood movie.  We struggle.  And that's ok.  But there is some joy mixed in with all the hard stuff.  There are surprises every day, if we keep our eyes open to them!  If we stay present to the moment, even the moments we get knocked down, we find the gifts in it all.  There are gifts, even in the suffering, and somehow it transforms into something else.  That is, if we allow ourselves the suffering.

Somehow in our society we get this idea that we're supposed to be happy all the time, upbeat and cheerful.  And it's really great to be around those kind of folks.  They get the popularity prizes lots of the time.  To be honest however, I enjoy the folks who are real.  Honest about their feelings.  People who try to find the treasures in the hard things, without being "perky" every moment of every day.  They are the treasures in this world.  But so often we're seeking out the popular folks...the happy people, that we miss the deeper gifts someone who knows and has experienced suffering can bring..

So the hot weather is not my favorite time of year, and I spend more time getting knocked down than I do on my feet.  But there are fireflies, and so many flowers that love the hot sun.  And lots of people like this time of year best of all.