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I'm marching!

11/26/2016

      As I refrain from watching the news or reading the paper, I continue to be amazed at the physical and psychic time I have to be positive. My head isn’t in the sand, nor the murky waters of current politics; rather it is in the sky of thankfulness. Last Sunday I attended an ecumenical Thanksgiving service at the Islamic Center of Boston, located in the town next to me. On a more practical level, I feel less pressed for time.
     I am not suggesting that everyone follow my news blackout. It’s right for me; it doesn’t mean I don’t care. On January 21, 2017 my daughter, granddaughter, sister, niece and her children are participating in the Women’s March on Washington. We care for women, for the LGBTQ community, and for immigrants. They are not other; they are us.
     P.S. If I couldn’t make it to Washington, I’d go to Boston. If I didn’t live in Massachusetts, I go to the event in my state capitol.

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November 22nd, 2016

11/22/2016

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I continually long for silence, solitude and simplicity, but just when I think I’ve grasped them, life happens, and I am again reminded that these states of being are not permanently possessed. During each of the five winters I spent at the cottage of the sea, however, a rhythm of silence, solitude, and simplicity settled into me and even endured from season to season. In the two years since those days, that rhythm has been replaced by a cha-cha-cha, beat. A little silence, a little chatter/gossip; a little solitude, a little socializing; a little simplicity, a little complexity.
Those weekdays alone by the sea, followed by weekends at home, became a unique, sacred time in my life. They are over, but a new rhythm, involving travel, is finding its beat. Florence has become my new cottage by the sea. I am going there December 4-17 for silence, solitude and simplicity, and to write and do a little Christmas shopping. And, I hope to return there in the spring.

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Going with hi-tech flow

11/19/2016

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     Here’s how I spent yesterday, a beautiful, clear, warmish November day. In the morning I visited two different church friends who live at an assisted living facility. At my first visit, we sat inside by the window watching birds flock to her feeder. My other friend and I sat on a bench outside. Comforting moments.
On my way home I stopped to ask my auto mechanic how in the world I got a dent in the front bumper of my new car. I was certain someone had backed into me, but no, I must have scraped into a concrete barrier while parking. Really? Evidently, new cars are made low to the ground and are protected by a plastic bumper cover, which dents so easily that drivers don’t even notice. I was one of them.
     Thankfully there is no structural need to get the bumper repaired, unless driving around with a little dent bothers me. It doesn’t, but what does bothers me is that I get annoyed with the ‘changes’ in new products that I have to buy. Case in point, the new operating system on my computer; the old one will fade into uselessness; I have no choice. Back to the car; with 200,000 miles on my 2004 Camry, I have to consider safety. Final point, it bothers me that I am bothered by all this, that I can’t go along easily with the mechanical, hi-tech flow of the world.
     But, thankfully, there are other flows, flows of community that have nothing to do with hi-tech. In the afternoon I took brownies to two housebound friends, one with MS, the other with debilitating shingles. More comforting moments. And, I walked.

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Marching away grief and fear~

11/15/2016

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After solving computer problems at the Apple Store (the geniuses were fabulous in all the ways I need—expertise, patience and friendliness), I took a walk to visit my ninety-five year old friend, Ruth. I needed the exercise and companionship to make sense of my grief and fear: grief at the passing of Gwen Ifill; fear for transgender friends who are scared for their lives, immigrant families afraid that they will be separated from their core loved ones, and women afraid they will lose intimate control of their bodies.
Again and again, I am reminded that I have NO idea what it is like to be marginalized, and that I am called to stand in solidarity for basic human dignity. I am seriously considering attending the Women’s March on Washington January 21st. I’ll see how it develops.

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A new path to silence, solitude and simplicity~

11/12/2016

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I'm sitting with a new silence, solitude and simplicity. For now, I have chosen not to watch the news, nor to read anything more than the headlines. Without a doubt this helps me keep a balance between justified anger and fear, and unconditional love. But it is hard. For example, while watching the evening news I would knit. I love multitasking. I can still knit, substituting meditation and contemplation for involvement in the news. But it is hard, this is a new path to silence, solitude and simplicity. I miss watching that evening soap opera. The road is clearer, but I miss all those stones of anger, fear and righteous indignation that distracted me from walking with an open heart.

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In the end, love wins

11/9/2016

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     How do we carry on today, this day after Election Day? Not just carry on, but move on in a positive way. Approximately half the country is happy with the results; the other half unhappy, and many of those are scared; scared for the LGBTQ community, for reproductive choice, for Muslims, for the environment, for immigrants, for peace.
     Like the psalmist we can lament; and then, like the psalmist, we can raise our thoughts beyond ourselves, and grab onto hope in something pastthe human response. If we don’t do this, we will remain wallowing in the vitriolic hatred that was the signature of the campaign that just ended.
     There is much we can do to work for peace and justice in our country and in the world. It starts with who we are, with our hearts open to unconditional love, which is where the hard work is. As I go out today, my challenge is to express positive energy and maintain hope. In the end, love wins.

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Election day Serenity Prayer~

11/8/2016

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God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. (“The Serenity Prayer”)
Whether you consider yourself religious, spiritual but not religious, agnostic, atheist, or something else, I trust that the Serenity Prayer speaks to you today. This is all I have to say of this election morning.

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Remembering the 1966 'mud angels' in Florence~

11/4/2016

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Fifty years ago the rains came and the River Arno flooded streets, churches, museums and homes in Florence. Angelli del fango, or mud angels, arrived from all over the world with their particular expertise and open hearts to restore this beautiful city. Although art and manuscripts were destroyed, much was saved because people believed that treasures of the past give us life today, and are as reminders of the human sacred and soulful work.
What sad news to hear of the current earthquakes in central Italy. The little towns that have been devastated are not museums towns like Florence. But each proudly displays a medieval church in the town square where the past, present and future meet. Now that that future is gone. What a contrast between this devastation from natural causes and the razing to the ground of skyscrapers and towers when they don’t serve our greedy needs after fifty or so years.

A few Florence favorites still standing. Thank you angelli del fango.

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A cottage-by-the-sea day~

11/2/2016

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A stuffy nose has kept me home and away from people. What a deal. I feel well enough to be up and about and can even take an autumn walk, but don’t want to share my germs with anyone. Thus home I stay, for what I’m naming cottage-by-the-sea days. Time alone, reading and writing on the couch in the sun.
It has been two years since I lived at the cottage. For five winter months, from2009-2014, I spent week days there alone and weekends at home with family and friends.
I miss it sometimes, but that was a particular moment in time in my life, and now I have new moments. I still yearn for extended periods alone which the cottage-by-the-sea rhythm provided, but now I have a new rhythm, going to Florence for two weeks every few months. I go to write and be alone, just as I did at the cottage. For sure, I am very grateful.

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A few Florence favorites still standing. Thank you angelli del fango.

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