It’s the time of year where we more openly share and celebrate our gifts. My son sent me this: I know you like carrots for eye care. Well, one of the greyhound people has a blind dog named Teddy. They got him an emotional support carrot to help him see.
Is this sweet or what? Who cannot be touched?
I rise at 4 to 4:30 these days, and sit in the dark responding to stars one morning and clouds the next, receiving what comes. Impermanence.
My grandson is six today. He’s entranced with snakes so Jungle James came to his birthday party on Saturday, bringing four amazing snakes, and entertaining children and adults for an hour. The snakes were carefully passed around so we could touch and stroke in alignment with the scales. I’m with the beauty of this earth we share, the love of touch.
On Saturday I enjoyed a neighborhood luncheon of eight women celebrating life. I was surprised to hear how many had grandfathers who came to this country when they were 12 or 14 speaking no English and, yet they contributed and thrived. Their grandchildren are proof of that.
My niece is currently driving across the country to visit us. Because she and her beloved dog are traveling together, I decided to re-read John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. It was 1960 and he wanted to understand what was happening in the country so he outfitted a camper truck and left the East coast with his dog Charley and drove up to Maine, across the northern route to Washington state, down to CA and across Texas and the South. I recommend the book to understand the changes in our country that could lead to Trump and Vance, and Congress killing funding for public broadcasting to silence dissent.
At Book passage, I bought a book, My Head for a Tree: The Extraordinary Story of the Bishnoi, Guardians of Nature. The author Martin Goodman travels to Rajasthan, in northern India, home to the Bishnoi, a desert people whose religion is built around nature and wildlife conservation. In 1604 two Bishnoi women were beheaded in defense of trees. In 1643, when trees were being felled for use in celebrations of the goddess Holi, a local Bishnoi named Buchoji killed himself in protest. On September 11, 1730, over 363 Bishnoi were beheaded to save trees. These people are fierce and still willing to die to save trees. They understand the peril of not recognizing our connection with all that’s here, the roots that connect us all around the world.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky in The Brothers Karamazov:
Love every leaf…. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an abiding universal love.
Yesterday I was at the beach for a five year old’s birthday party. Five children to celebrate a five year old. Each child’s party favor was a kite. In the howling wind, the father patiently put each kite together and each child waited patiently for their turn. Grandson got a green King Cobra kite, which he found thrilling since he loves snakes and the color green.
I’m with the words of Julia Butterfly Hill:
If we take action out of anger, we’re only making more problems in the world. But when you can take action out of love, then miracles can happen.
Pope Leo XIV offers hope with his words: “We must seek together how to be a missionary Church, a Church that builds bridges, dialogue, [and is] always open to receive—like this square, with open arms—everyone, all those who need our charity, our presence, dialogue, love,”
He says J.D. Vance is wrong. Jesus doesn’t ask us to rank our love for others.
May the world shift now from a deranged man led and influenced by those who hate to an open embrace of Compassion, Kindness, and Love.
Ten years ago, one son and I took a driving trip from Oakland, CA to Yellowstone National Park. It was a wonderful celebration of my 65th birthday, a chance to bond as adults, not just mother and son.
This morning, he sent me this photo with these words: This is the mug from our trip to Yellowstone. The bison and American flag have worn away completely now. Feels symbolic.
Yesterday I read about and visited a new park in Greenbrae called “Alex’s Playground and Discovery Gardens”. Alex was 7 when nearly five years ago, he died in a horrific and tragic accident at his school.
Several months before he died, he told his mother if anything ever happened to him, he would be a baby hummingbird so that he could be with her.
The day after he died, his mother saw a small hummingbird in their garden who was there for a brief moment and then flew off with a friend.
Recently his mother was attending a show by the Lego sculptor Sean Kenney when she saw a giant hummingbird built with 31,565 Lego bricks, its bill in an equally large Lego flower.
She was able to buy it and now today it sits in a new playground that the family is donating in memory of Alex.
I think of the gazebo in Blackie’s Pasture in Tiburon and the playground in Boyle Park in Mill Valley, both honoring the loss of a child. What a beautiful way to honor the loss, to create a place where children gather, laugh, and play.
The sculpture also is a reminder of the Hummingbird Alliance, a nonprofit the family formed after Alex’s death to push for stronger gate safety rules.
As a child, I watched the conventions with my family. Last night I watched with a smile on my face, reveled in the open hearts, love, and beauty as we gather as immigrants, even if generations back, and neighbors, to celebrate feeding and educating children for the good and future of democracy and this country.
I’m thrilled.
Heather Cox Richardson ended her “column” with these words:
Tonight, after his acceptance speech, Walz walked off stage to a favorite song of his: Neil Young’s “Rockin‘ in the Free World.” Neil Young personally allowed the campaign to use the song. When the Trump campaign used it, Young sued to make them stop.
And therein, the contrast between the two parties right now.
Thich Nhat Hanh:
“You have to really hug the [one] you are holding. You have to make him or her very real in your arms.. breathing consciously and hugging with all your body, spirit, and heart. Hugging meditation is a practice of mindfulness. “Breathing in, I know my dear one is in my arms, alive. Breathing out, he or she is so precious to me.” If you breathe deeply like that, holding the person you love, the energy of your care and appreciation will penetrate into [them] and they will be nourished and bloom like a flower.”
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