Space

What the pandemic has given us is increasing awareness of what we need, and much of that seems to be awareness of caring for ourselves and those we love.  

When I hear the word “space”, I think of Star Trek and exploration of the “final frontier”, but when we look within, there’s a beginning frontier to explore, one that appears to open out into a spaciousness in which to pause, renew, rest.

I’ve been with my journals from Nepal in 1993.  There was no safety net for the people, and yet those we met had their village, the support of their village.  At that time 50% of the children died before the age of five.  

I met a man, Donny, who was sick with worry over caring for his six children.  His corn was destroyed in the monsoon and he lost his thatched roof but he was proud that his sunflowers survived.

Yesterday, my son asked me about the “good old days”.  I spoke of my grandparents who lived through WWI and the depression, and then came WWII.  There’s always something to test us. 

We are here to see how we meet what comes, and I think of Kathmandu in 1993 where the leaves were swept with brooms, and the floors washed by kneeling.  The pace was both rapid and slow, noisy and quiet, and here we are, each of us, wrapped in a world that connects us all.

Tomorrow is a huge day for our country.   Democracy is both fragile and strong.

Yesterday I learned about The Robber’s Cave Experiment that was the inspiration for the book Lord of the Flies.

I read that nearly six decades later, experts have called the experiment unethical as it appears to have left  lasting mental damage on its subjects. I think as more and more comes out on the danger of what happened on January 6, 2021, each of us is shocked.

And yet on Christmas Day, the James Webb Space Telescope was launched.

According to NASA, “thousands of scientists, engineers and technicians” — from 306 universities, national labs and companies, primarily in the U.S., Canada and Europe — contributed “to design, build, test, integrate, launch and operate Webb.”

Smithsonian Magazine noted that “Webb will help scientists understand how early galaxies formed and grew, detect possible signatures of life on other planets, watch the birth of stars, study black holes from a different angle and likely discover unexpected truths.”

Wow!

May we more deeply and expansively unite in observing the space within us, as we explore and expand our knowledge of the space we share.

https://earthandskyimaging.com/?doing_wp_cron=1641404792.1273291110992431640625

Solstice

Tomorrow is the shortest day of the year.  I sink into the darkness, the touch of candlelight and the scent of pine and cedar.  Two squirrels chase around and up and down the redwood tree.  

The tilt of the earth’s axis gives us the seasons. It’s a time to honor and reflect. What comes to me now, and how open am I to receive?

Peace – dark – light – change 

Perception

This morning I’m with the beauty and wisdom in this Carol video, O Holy Darkness.

I remember taking a course in Child Psychology at UCLA when I was 18.  In 1968, we were propagandized that the “Communists” were programming their children. We had to fight back against that threat. Of course, our own propaganda was that we were the good guys and our children were allowed and given complete freedom and possibility in this “land of the free”.  

Angela Davis, an avowed Communist, came to teach and there was turmoil and concern. In order to work as a tour guide on campus, I had to sign that I was not a Communist.  I doubt I knew what that meant at the time. I knew my father believed in the Domino Theory and not wanting another World War II, he thought we were right to be in Vietnam.  He didn’t live long enough to learn the truth of that.

Now, we are trying to teach our children a more whole history.  Watch this beautiful movement into the embrace, the holy embrace, of wholeness.

Harvest

It’s a beautiful fall morning.  My father, born in 1921, would have been 100 today.  He died in an accident in 1969.  He was 47, the age my oldest son is now.  Time.  Trust.    Today I’m with James Wright’s beautiful poem “A Blessing”.  There are so many ways to step out of our bodies and into blossom.  

A Blessing
Just off the Highway to Rochester, Minnesota
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

~ James Wright ~

The tide moves in and out
And we Bloom

Folding and Unfolding

In Sensory Awareness we often speak of Unfolding.

Jonathan Swift said that “No wise man ever wished to be younger”.  I take that to mean we keep unfolding the beauty of the years.

Of course, today, we would expand that word “man” to include women and then we’d unfold outside of gender and humans to embrace this whole universe that is expanding and unfolding.

Yesterday it was suggested that I sit with a dish towel and fold and unfold it, and then, put something precious inside, maybe my own heart-felt and full beliefs, and fold and unfold with the deepest reverence and care.  I do this in my imagination first, a delight of play.

Then I bring forth a dish towel, one now converted to fall so that harvest colors capture the autumn light.  I gather abundance and wrap it up like a gift, and then open it out to share. 

Unfolding Light

Presence

Steve and I spent two nights in Liege, Belgium four years ago.  It was pure delight as we ate our meals outside in outdoor cafes.

When Steve wanted to find a laundry on a Saturday, he asked a policeman who then led us to the police station where he gathered a crew of police women and men interested in helping us fulfill this task.  We all walked around together until we learned it wasn’t meant to be but meanwhile we’d made new friends.

When I look at the photos of the flooding in Liege, I’m shocked.  Each moment of our lives, a moment preserved.

Taste of Liege, Belgium in June, 2017

Living

I know that climate change is bringing excessive heat to many areas of the country, but here, this morning, very softly, on her cat feed, the fog comes gently rolling in.  

More and more I come to understand these words of Alan Watts: 

The only Zen you’ll find on mountain tops is the Zen you bring up there with you.

I’m also understanding these words of George Washington Carver as the years unroll in me.  

How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life you will have been all of these.
Morning Fog

Transition

It’s the first day of the second half of this year.  

I’ve been perusing the book, The Boy, the mole, the fox, and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy. 

“To be honest, I often feel I have nothing interesting to say,” said the fox.  “Being honest is always interesting” said the horse.

“Is your glass half-empty or half-full?” asked the mole.

“I think I’m grateful to have a glass.” said the boy.

“What’s your best discovery?” asked the mole.

“That I’m enough as I am,” said the boy.

And with that I pause, raise my sails, and slip inside my dreams.  

Breathing

This morning I’m with these words from Shunryu Suzuki Roshi on“Breathing”.

What we call “I” is just a swinging door which moves when we inhale and when we exhale.

Perhaps that’s why I relate so to watching the tides move in and out, and the individual waves moving as a group.  No “I” – just a swinging door.  

Yesterday I was at the park with Grandchild – Grand Child.

Magnolia Blossom – Breathing
Honoring in and out, life and death – One!