A year in review

Agape. Oregon, Lent and Easter, Seder, vegan. College retreats/work groups, NY peace march, discernment. Gardening. Freedom Farm, Minnesota, Epworth & Ulster County. Discernment. NYC, Maine, Kroka Expeditions, Brattleboro, Francis Day at Agape, Carrie Newcomer. Creatively Maladjusted young adult retreat. Relocation to Boston. Friendships. Advent evening at Agape. Job searching, housing searching, church searching - and finding. Nannying, commuting, socializing, applying, discerning. Deciding.

That's a lot of life changes for one year! I feel like I've really grown a lot over the last 12 months into who I am and where I'm going. I still have a lot to learn as I figure out how to live as an adult, but I sure know myself better!

trot trot to boston, to find a place to live

the second two weeks of November were two of the most difficult weeks of my life. not the most, but they ranked pretty high up there.

i decided to move to Boston, thinking it would be nice to live near friends (most of whom are part of the "creatively maladjusted" group of young adults from Agape) for once, and earn some money to beef up my savings so that i can travel or continue doing quasi-unpaid jobs in the spring...

easier said than done. searching for a job and place to live in a new city simultaneously is not an easy thing to do, especially when you've never done it before! and especially when you're only looking for temporary work and temporary housing.

it all came to a head on Nov. 11, as i wrote in my journal:
"i am sick, sick, sick of this! all i've been doing for the past weeks is switching between tabs on my browser looking at craigslist and other job and roommate sites. i've had absolutely zero success, and it's gotten to the point where i just feel sick upon thinking about it. it's like drowning, like treading water with tired legs and an out of reach shore. yes, i want to be here near these people, but i don't want to do what it seems like i have to in order to make that happen, which is rent an apartment for $500 and work a full time temp job.... what's wrong? what's wrong is that i've 'gotten off the beam' in order to earn money. what's wrong is that i haven't been listening to or caring for my soul. and i've run out of creativity and passion. i've burnt out."

and of course, after that, things started getting better. a couple of people responded to my inquiries about rooms, i filled out some online job applications, and i took a day off from it all. then, inspired by a new friend, i decided to take a different approach. i decided to swallow my pride and ask for help; to be vulnerable and put myself and my needs out there, to the mercies and graces of the united methodists of boston. would any pastors or members of their congregations be willing and able to take me in for a couple of months?

eight days later, i moved into my new home in Dorchester, with Linda and Gary, two semi-retired methodist pastors, and the next day i had a job interview.

community, community, community! how does anyone survive without it? our society teaches us that we should be able to go it alone and take care of ourselves, be independent and self-reliant -- and, consequently, to isolate ourselves from others, refusing to be vulnerable, to ask for help when we need it, to create a safety net of community; forcing us to rely only on our wits, skills, and personal finances.

as i became more desperate to find a solution to my homeless and jobless situation, i became more aware of how my cultural and class identities played into my dificulties. i realized that it had never crossed my mind to seek out a social service agency that could help me, and that i wouldn't even know how to find one. despite my miniscule savings and lack of income and housing, i didn't identify myself as someone who would need or qualify for that kind of assistance - i had always seen myself on the other side, serving rather than receiving. those were the cultural ideals and experiences i'd been raised with. i could hear myself forming the thought "i never thought i'd be one of 'those' people" and immediately cringed at my use of "those".

would "giving in" and going to an agency for help be a "sign of weakness"? or would it have been a sign of strength? of courage? of humility? to ask for the help i needed, never mind my college degree and middle class ideals, and be willing to cross out the word "those", to erase the line, and let me become a part of "us," to be a recipient of grace rather than a dispenser; to be vulnerable and depend on others' wisdom. even though i did not take that step (although i did in my own small way by emailing all of those unknown methodists), i gained a much greater respect and understanding of people who find themselves in that situation, and made an important discovery about myself along the way.

Carrie Newcomer, one year later, in Boston

I finally have a copy of Carrie's new CD, Before and After -- with an autograph! =) I've wanted to get my hands on a copy of it ever since she sang "A Small Flashlight" for the encore of her concert at Warren Wilson College last year (a song that I could have sworn she sang just for me...).

She of course remembered me - and my name. We checked in before the concert and I realized that I'm in a similar position to where I was a year ago when we talked in North Carolina - and the year before when we first met in Oregon: trying to figure out where to go next in life...

She made a comment about life being a cycle of circles of re-discerning that never stops (although hopefully it's a little different each time and we can get through it a little easier...). Then, to top it off, she opened the concert with "There is a Tree," and when she came to the line "in circles that grow ever wide" she looked right at me. And I smiled, and she smiled. =)

cohoot connections

our parents always forget that the two of us haven't met. just because we're the same age and interested in farming and live on the east coast and because our parents live in the same cohousing community in oregon where we've both spent time doesn't mean we know each other!

but now we do. i decided to make our parents' delusions a reality by calling up Laura and visiting her in Brattleboro, VT. and we had a fabulous time. :) lots of beautiful fall hiking, planting garlic, and cooking of garden-fresh produce! pumpkin pie, pumkin bread, minestrone soup, brussels sprouts, kale, squash...and a giant miatake mushroom found in the woods.

can life be like this all the time?

so mom, dad, yes - now we are friends, and not just in your imaginations. :)

Cold Pond Community Land Trust

South Acworth, NH

My stay here at Cold Pond has been quite nice - and very quiet. I got here just in time yesterday for Steve to greet me before he went off to go bowling, and then I was on my own until almost 11pm to figure out how to make a wood cookstove work, take a walk, build a fire in my little cabin, and search unsuccessfully for matches, among other things (including talk to the neighbor about the horses that had gotten loose and were in the road...).

Today, it snowed. It was heavy, wet snow, mixed with rain at times - like the way it snows in Western Oregon. And it was windy. So, we didn't do anything. In fact, from the time I walked over the house at 9:30am, I didn't set foot outside again until I walked back to the cabin at 9:30pm. We made potato-leek soup, and Steve made an apple cobbler - yum yum!



It's down to Brattleboro tomorrow!

Re-visiting Agape

Once again a wonderful but short visit to Agape. I managed to make it to Francis Day from Boston with Kate! Hooray! I was glad to finally experience this event that I’d heard so much about last year. It was a gorgeously sunny and colorful crisp fall day, and there were at least 200 people there. The program’s theme was “Women and War: reclaiming our voices,” and included women speakers from Japan, Burundi, Afghanistan, and Iraq as well as Dorothy Day’s granddaughter and a U.S. veteran in her mid-20s who’d served in Iraq when she was 19. It was a powerful day, and ended with the planting of a tree in honor of the mother of two Iraqi boys who are here with their father getting treatment for injuries sustained in the car explosion (caused by U.S. gunfire) that killed their mother.

One of the highlights was the singing and dancing led by the Burundian community! It was also really nice to see so many familiar faces and catch up with a few of the people that I had gotten to know pretty well during my internship. I was glad not to be an intern though, because it meant I simply got to sit back and enjoy it all without worrying about logistics or running in and out taking care of details or dishes. Can we please stop having wars?

on the river that flows both ways

"River, take me along
In your sunshine, sing me your song
Ever moving and winding and free
You rolling old river, you changing old river
Let's you and me river run down to the sea!"


I just spent 10 incredible days with 17 incredible people on the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater. It was loads of fun, and I loved it, but I think I discovered that even though I love the water, I'm not a sailor. Or a chemistry teacher. I was originally only supposed to be on the boat from Sunday through Saturday, but I ended up staying 3 extra days because they were short on staff and volunteers. I'm glad I did, because there was a lot of lousy, rainy, windy weather the first week and 4 groups cancelled their sails!

My job description as a volunteer was to help in every way I could - with boat operation, maintenance, and education. So I learned how to tie a highwayman's cutaway, a round turn and two half hitches, and a stopper knot; how to clip the lizard onto the otter trawl net line; how to coil a line (always clockwise!) and make a butterfly coil; how to tie a reef in the sail. I did 7am saltwater deckwashes, scrubbed soleboards, cleaned the hold shelves, washed dishes in the galley, and helped furl the jib. I slid a lot of fenders between the rub-rail and the pilings, manned the tiller, and did bow watch in the rain keeping a lookout for logs and moving vessels.

On the days we had group sails, I taught kids about dissolved oxygen and turbidity, tides and salinity, navigating on a river, the history of Hudson River sloops, how to identify an oyster toadfish, tell the difference between male and female blue crabs, what a hogchoker is and how it got its name, and how to touch a fish (use one finger - your "fishy finger"- to stroke it, not poke it, because we don't want to squish the fish!). I even played some music. And of course I hauled away on those halyards to help raise that gigantic 3,000 pound mainsail!

"Come along with me upon this broad old river
and we will see what we can do,
for when we work together in all kinds of weather,
there's no telling what the power of the people and the river can do!"

Visiting Agape

In the interest of consolidating my belongings, the first stop on my trip was to Agape, where I re-packed the boxes I had stored there and shipped them to Freedom Farm. I had a wonderful but too brief stay, arriving in the late afternoon on Tuesday and leaving after lunch on Thursday. It felt a little bit like coming home when Brayton picked me up at the bus station.

A number of changes have occurred since I left at the end of May! A new shed was built on top of the platform that one of the work groups moved into the garden in the spring, and it’s beautiful. The chapel has a new maple altar and wood sconces for candles in the corders. And the third floor (where I lived) finally had wood flooring put down (leftover from the chapel project) and it’s absolutely gorgeous! They also changed prayer time, which no one informed me of, and so I missed 7:30 prayer – because it was at 7. Oops.

I got to meet all three - three! - of the new interns who will be living there through next summer, answer a few of their questions, share a little advice. I think they’re going to have a great time, but Ellen wishes there was another female intern...

the journey continues

with my summer internship at Freedom Farm at an end, i have returned to my wonderings and wanderings. i am attempting to be in the wandering mode with gusto, but i admit it's challenging. i currently have 3 weeks of my life more or less planned, but what happens after that is still a big question mark... i like exploring and traveling, but that's difficult to do without much money, and believe it or not, i actually do like knowing what's going to happen 3 weeks from now - or 3 days from now....

today i am in NY - i spent the night at a friend's place in Harlem -- she was my roommate with our host family in nicaragua on our semester abroad 4 years ago and i haven't seen her since! this afternoon i am heading to Agape for the night and to deal with the boxes of stuff i left there over the summer. then it's to Boston for a night and on to Portland, Maine to visit my cousin and her family for a few days! I've only been there at Thanksgiving and Christmas with lots of other people, so it will be fun to be able to actually have time to visit with them and do a little sightseeing in Maine! after that it's back to Boston for 4 days, then maybe a night at a friend's in NY, and then the thing i'm most excited about: a week onboard the Clearwater! You can definitely expect a report on that experience.

Memory Lane

I went on a trip down memory lane this weekend. And it only took an hour to get there!


I spent the weekend at Camp Epworth, the place where we lived from '91-'95 when I was is elementary school. 15 years later, I wasn't expecting things to look exactly like when we'd left, especially since the program offerings have changed significantly -- but I was suprised at how many things had not changed! In fact, the pot-holed road and most of the buildings were in the same or worse condition than I remember -- a sign that the thing that has changed the least is the financial situation of the camp. The grounds and the river are still as beautiful and picturesque as ever - but I did mourn the loss of the swing, on which I used to spend hours and hours looking over the river and across to Mohonk and watching the light sift through the leaves and branches of the sugar maple from which it hung (and playing "milkshake" and "tie-dye"), which is no longer hanging at the top of the hill by the gazeebo.I got to explore the town of High Falls, wander through my old elementary school, visit with my third grade teacher (the best teacher ever!), and eat pizza in Stone Ridge. It was pretty amazing to walk into church on Sunday (Rondout Valley and Shady) and see so many faces that I hadn't remembered but instantly recognized! And it was also incredible to drive to Kingston and see the [Hudson River Sloop] Clearwater, just after I had decided to apply to volunteer on it... [that's where I'll be next week! -9/23]

The only thing that would have made it more perfect is if my sister could have been there to reminisce with me...

sorry, folks!

apologies for not posting anything this summer! i'll try to catch up and give you an idea of what this summer has been like with back-dated posts over the next few weeks...

Freedom Farm goes to the Bronx

It was rainy this morning as we packed the van and harvested produce for YMPJ. It was kind of nice actually – misty and heavy and fresh. I gathered squash, zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes and tomatillos, while the others harvested green beans, potatoes, corn, and flowers. We also offered potted oregano and cilantro plants.

We got to the Bronx at 11:15am. People were showing up asking about produce while we were still unloading the van and setting up the table! We asked them to wait, but still we could barely put it out fast enough once they started coming. 20 minutes later, you barely would have known anything had happened. It would have been gone sooner if we hadn’t asked people not to take so much and intentionally saved some back for the second wave of people who came (most of them seniors from the apartment complex across the street)! It basically turned into a grab-fest – get as much as you can while it lasts! – and we only garnered $8 in donations…I guess that’s what happens when you “sell” produce by donation to economically marginalized people...

The experience really tested the limits of my generosity. It wasn’t that I didn’t want people to take the food or that I was hoping there would be leftovers. No, I guess I just wanted to see more awareness and appreciation for the hard work that went into growing the food, and for the fact that it was organic and local. The cynical mind in me says that the only reason the folks who came were interested in the food is because it was free; they couldn’t have cared less about where it came from or whether or not it was organic. They were just happy to have good fresh food that they could afford for once! For one day in August in the Bronx, the Freedom Farm crew was able to provide access to lovingly grown, healthy organic vegetables to those who normally wouldn't have it, and I am so glad for that! I just hope they noticed how delicioius those potatoes were and savored them...

thoughts on church

I went to North UCC, the Open & Affirming one, in Middletown for the 2nd time today - and the pastor wasn't there this week either! I had multiple reactions to the service:
1) they're fairly progressive, but i'm sick of traditional male-centered theological language.
2) The service was led by lay leaders, and there was some deep story-sharing which reminded me of Sweet Home UMC. :)
3) they watched a video about worship that said "worship is supposed to be about God, not about how it makes you feel" and "Jesus calls us to worship his name, not argue about it." I see the truth in both of those statements, but...it's not worship unless it connects with me and speaks to my soul, is it? and, Jesus doesn't ask us to worship him, but to worship God. yeah, I have a problem with worshipping Jesus.
4) For special music, a woman played guitar and sang Gather Us In and Be Not Afraid - the kind of music I love and miss - it was wonderful and moving!
5) For the benediction, the same woman called everyone to join hands in a circle and said a prayer about diversity and loving our uniqueness and then we sang a song. :)
6) after experiencing number (1), it was reassuring to witness the struggle of the congregation to deal with the changing world around them and how to be God's presence; their passions around the need for action and trying to find answers for what they can do in their community.

summer snapshots

helping load the hay loft at Freedom Hill Dairy


julia on bear mountain


ann, cary, edgar and julia tying up tomatoes


adventures of the A-team: lake minnewaska and mini-golf


the A-team! (A is for Astro)
Amanda, Cary, Me, Julia

Bear foot prayer

i prayed today with my bare feet pressed
against the sun-warmed stone at the top of Bear Mountain
overlooking the Hudson River Valley
and the steep deep green of the Appalachians

beautiful view, beautiful feeling, beautiful day.

Ratatouille

Wow.

Cary just made one of the most delicious meals I've had in a long time.

It all started with the fried sage: crispy, salty, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth amazing. tasted kind of like artichoke! sensational.

Next came dinner: spicy ratatouille made with fresh vegetables from the garden including yellow summer squash, zucchini, and the most delicious potatoes ever, honest. served with spaghetti and french baguette with sage butter. So-o-o savory. simply splendid.

That was followed up by a viewing of the movie Ratatouille, which was interrupted halfway through by a plate magically appearing over my shoulder containing a wedge of baked apple pastry goodness with a dollop of ice cream.

mm-m-m delicious!

journeying

a morning writing exercise:

i am journeying to a full life in God, with God. with questions all over the place! with an unknown destination. aimlessly? i hope not. my journey has had its bumps and lumps, has not always been fun, has had its fair share of tears. my soul's journey has been to try to find God, always seeking that connection. in the words of julian of norwich, how do i "one myself to God"? it is not an easy or self-explanatory road. it has required community. my journey has been uncomfortable often. it's been hard to find the right people. i am journeying through cornfields and tomato plants and kale and collards and silence and snow and woodstoves and sweat and little boys and crayfish ponds and memories and trees and retreats and conflict and misunderstandings and new friendships and laughter and pain and joy and journals and impatience and growth. i am journeying.

huts

so i'm riding my bike along mountain road, thinking about the idea of going on a spiritual direction retreat and about my future and how i kind of just want to live like an 18th- or 19th-century homesteader, being simple, doing manual work, and that maybe i should find a job at a living history village or else go live in a hut in Africa or somewhere else, when i come to the top of a hill and find myself face to face with a new stone mcmansion fortress guarded by lions on pillars at the driveway entrace, and i can't help but let out a mournful, frustrated groan -- why do people think they need to live like that? why do they think it's ok? what's wrong with our world?

i kind of want to live in a hut...

so far...

I am really enjoying life here. I love having a community that hangs out together. and i love that we have check-in meetings to discuss how we're doing, how community life is going, etc. I like the collaborative team nature of it, too - how i get to help create the structure of my experience. and the kids are fun. :)

I do miss some of the privacy and contemplative prayer and structure of Agape. And the easy access to woodsy trails and the blatant progressiveness. It's harder for me to take reflective time for myself here - partly because there are more people to hang out with and partly because of the constant availablility of the internet via wireless on my laptop...

But it's much easier for me to talk to Ann than it ever was for me to take to Suzanne. And it's nice to have another intern here, too.

invitation

I love the place where this desk sits in my room,
in the corner between two windows facing south and east;
the way the oak-leaf-filtered light coming through the yellow-cream-edged window panes plays on the surface of the glossy white desk,
framed by the bold terracotta red of the walls.

Freedom Farm

My life journey/vocation quest/East Coast Exploration has finally led me to a place within an hour of the site of my childhood’s memories. I’m doing an internship at Freedom Farm in Middletown, NY. I met Ann and Edgar (the couple who started it with Ann’s brother Ben) at the young adult retreats at Agape – Edgar spent 8 months interning there when he was in his late 20s.

I got here on May 26th, and so far, it’s been a fun ride! Cary, the other intern, and I have been hard at work getting the garden ready: transplanting seedlings from the greenhouse, putting up pea trellises, weeding, preparing beds for more planting, caging tomatoes, mowing… and the boys (ages 4 and 7) have been keeping us busy laughing and playing baseball and basketball with them. I’m looking forward to the educational programs we’ll be doing in July and August with 9-18-year-olds from NYC.

Here’s a bit more about Freedom Farm:

MISSION STATEMENT:

Freedom Farm Community is a Christian-based youth education organization striving for peace and justice by teaching alternatives to violence, sustainable agriculture, and helping youth discover God’s transformative love for one another.

VISION STATEMENT:

Because we are people of faith who believe in a Creator God who loves creation (including the rivers, fields and forests, animals, and every human being in the world), and because we believe in Jesus Christ, who restored dignity and life to those that society degraded, and cleansed the greedy and hard-hearted, we dedicate our work on Freedom Farm to the vision of a beloved community, where all are liberated from oppression and are free to celebrate their sacred unity and diversity.

I think it’s going to be a good summer. :)

(check out my pictures on picasa and the Freedom Farm website at www.freedomfarmcommunity.org)

poem: a gardener like me

i long
for god to make a garden
of my heart
to turn it into a
growing, blooming, fruitful –useful-
place

loving hands immersed in its
soft soil
massaging it, picking out
the stones – those
all-pervasive impediments to growth;
passionately carving their way
through the closed cage of my ribs and into
the secret interior of my soul
opening up long furrows upon its
too-smooth surface deep enough
to find its tender places;
expertly, carefully, planting
each seed
one by one
gently and eagerly encouraging it to
take root and rise up!

i envision this gardener
approaching my heart-bed joyfully in anticipation
each and every day
to water the seeds;
crouching closely – hoping
to witness the first sign of growth
whispering and
singing come out!
come out, my loves!
arise!
dancing and
clapping her hands in delight
at each new green sliver of
life - yes!

yes.

i want my heart to feel like this
i want my god to be like this
-a gardener like me.

Unpacking “Ware”

A member of the United Church of Ware told me the story of the origin of the town’s curious name.  It has nothing to do with a creative spelling of “where” or with the selling of “wares”; it is not someone’s last name or the name of a town in England.  It comes from the word “weir” (no, not as in “The Weir of Hermiston,” which was my immediate association, even though I don’t even know what that means…). 

Weir (wear/weer) is a native Nipmuk word meaning “many fish.” 

Before the white settlers took over and built dams for their mills, there was a natural falls on the river.  The Nipmuks used to build nets that they would stretch across the falls to catch the salmon going upstream.

By the time Ware was incorporated, there was already a town in Massachusetts named “weir”, so they had to change the spelling, which also changed the pronunciation.

That was in the 1700s.  The Dalles Dam was built on the Columbia River in the 1950s…  A ruling was just passed last week to allow the construction of a dam in the Amazon. 

When will we ever learn?

a Resurrection truth

Last year at Easter I wrote something to the effect that it would be enough for me to just have the stories of Jesus’ life, teachings and death; I don’t need a resurrection for them to have meaning and power in my life. 

But the thought I had during morning prayer today was that the disciples needed it!  And it’s only because of the profound ways they experienced Jesus’ presence after his death that they regained hope in his message and meaning and therefore passed on and wrote the gospel stories and letters and kept the Christian faith going.

Just because I don’t believe that Jesus’ body was raised back to life doesn’t mean the the disciples didn’t believe it!  That’s why we have Christianity at all today, and in that sense our faith is utterly dependent on the historical truth of the resurrection – because somebody else believed it. 

The gospel stories were written after the resurrection, because of the resurrection, in light of the resurrection.  And that IS a historical fact!

a blessed Easter

my easter weekend was full of wonderful easter-y things:

It began with a Maundy Thursday tenebrae service at Christa’s UCC church involving a simple, candlelit seder meal of lamb eaten in silence interspersed with the passion week readings and a few songs, ending in darkness.

We did a Stations of the Cross in front of the State House in Boston on Good Friday from 12-3pm. It is done as a statement against the death penalty and all state-sponsored violence, including war and economic exploitation. I wrote and read the 12^th Station (Jesus dies on the cross) and sang and played music (flute) with Fran Reagan (guitar) in between the stations. There were about 30 people participants taking turns reading, holding the cross, and holding banners. It was warm and sunny and i didn’t wear sunscreen…

That was followed by a Passover Seder at my cousin Jon’s house in Hadley. I met my cousin Amity in Boston and carpooled with her. There were 16 people total, including my aunt Lenore and Bill. The rest were Liz’s family. It was fun – my first REAL seder experience – i.e. how a real American Jewish family does it, not a presentation to show non-Jews how it’s done. Celia played the violin, Rita asked the four questions in sign language, and their other two cousins also participated with music and a modern-day interpretation skit about the Exodus from Egypt. I got back to Agape at midnight…

On Saturday, we had an Easter Vigil service here at Agape. I of course was on the music team. I sang the “Exsultet” at the beginning, which is basically an intro to what the service is all about: we rejoice, we remember what God has done for us, etc. I had never been to an Easter vigil before and never heard it before, so I plunked out the melody on the piano and found it to be very minor, modal, and chant-like. So I said, “this is a happy declaration , it should sound more joyful than that!” So I spent a half hour modifying and practicing it. A couple hours later, as I stood there in front of the 30 people in attendance, I looked down at the music and realized I didn’t really remember what I’d practiced… John, the priest, must have noticed my nervous hesitation because he laid a hand on my shoulder and said a little blessing prayer, which was exactly the boost I needed to get started and not get wrapped up in the perfection of the performance, trust in my own ability and rehearsal, and just sing whatever felt right. it wasn’t “perfect”, but it was good – and I got a lot of compliments from Catholics who had never heard it done that way before. I have to say I was impressed too, because I’ve never done anything like that before and wouldn’t have thought It’s something I could do!

i only got 6 hours of sleep Saturday night, but i managed to get out of bed at 6am on Sunday and drive to Ware for the Easter sunrise service at the United Church. They did it in the adjacent cemetery, which was nice symbolism, and we were facing a stand of trees with the golden haze from the shining behind them. It was short and nice – about 20-30 people present – followed by a pancake breakfast. Then I went for a walk in the park along the Ware river, below the church. It was cool, beautiful, and calm, with lots of birdsong.

later in the morning, i went to the UCC church in Hardwick (Christa’s parish again) for a lovely, fairly traditional-style Easter service including a brass quartet and music by Handel. To my surprise, Christa’s parents invited me to attend Easter brunch with them afterward! It was a lovely buffet at a local “Herb farm.” Apparently they have beautiful gardens and host a lot of weddings in the summer.

In the later afternoon, i drove to a nearby state park with a small lake and sat, read, walked, journaled, in the breezy sunshine. It was about 70 degrees outside and there were people fishing, kayaking, and playing on the little beach. On my drive home i stopped to watch the sunset.

what a beautiful Easter!

can a mountain die?

Today I went for a hike on Mount Wachusett, the highest peak in Massachusetts east of the Berkshires. The view from the top was a 360-degree panorama with Boston to the East and New Hampshire to the North. Unfortunately, it happened to be a somewhat hazy day, but I could just barely make out the lookout tower at the southern end of the Quabbin reservoir in Ware…

The mountain contains 1,000 of the state’s 10,000 remaining acres of old growth forest. It was a crazy trail, and not what I was expecting at all! A lot of it was walking on basalt slabs, part of it was a stone staircase, and in other places I was clambering up a hillside over rocks and roots following the blue blazes.

Part of the trail went through a hemlock forest and short, alpine-like deciduous trees. Another side of the hill was practically barren of undergrowth with a lot of downed trees and branches.

I couldn’t figure out the sensation I was having until the very end of the hike when the word “desolation” settled in my mind and I was overwhelmed by this sense that “the mountain is dying.” It looked like some giant behemoth had clambered along the hillside, pushing trees over, uprooting them, tromping on them once they’d fallen. I don’t understand why the western side of the mountain in particular was so strewn with broken trees. Weather? Is it the effects of wind, ice, water, and snow? It was pretty tragic. I was grateful for every little sign of spring I found along the way.

here comes the spring!

It’s spring in MA! The ground is thawed and the birds are singing. Listening to the birdsong reminds me of being in Honduras.  There’s a pair of bluebirds living in the birdhouse right in front of Francis House. Royal blue backsides, reddish fronts.  beautiful creatures. 

Trees are pruned and beginning to bud, lettuce has been planted in the greenhouse, garden beds are being turned, mosquitoes are hatching…  We had almost 2 full weeks of over 60-degree weather with sunshine! With a few days of flood-inducing rain in between…

We had 2 college groups here on work trips during that time, so we were able to get a LOT of work done!  My body got really tired the first few days because it wasn’t used to doing that amount of physical work in one day – hasn’t happened since the fall!  We did lots of wood hauling down from the woods.

I can’t wait for everything to be green and colorful – a season I haven’t experienced since I’ve been at Agape!

A 2-woman monastery for a week

At the end of February, Brayton went to Haiti to be with some close friends who are medical missionaries there.  While he was gone, it was just Suzanne and I running the show here: two women, one 64, the other 25, praying together 3 times a day and doing all the daily work to run the place, including hauling wood in for the woodstoves.

Suzanne joked about us being like two nuns at a monastery, especially when she saw me sitting in the chapel with my black sweatshirt hood pulled over my head looking like a habit!  The next day we wore matching purple sweaters (unintentionally, I swear!).

We couldn’t help but see the parallels between that and my sister’s life in Honduras and laugh at how two daughters from the same family ended up where we are today…does that mean our parents did a good job?  

moonsong

Oh mystic moon,

before we knew what you were,

you gazed on us

lovingly,

pulling us with you

into some great unknown.

We gazed back,

and were gifted with

sacred glimpses

of God.

We danced,

as the waters of the oceans,

moving to your mysterious rhythm.

Then science explained away

your incredible patterns

and we,

disenchanted,

no longer followed your lunar dance.

But oh glorious glowing globe,

you still gaze on us

lovingly,

mournfully? hopefully?

and waltz with the waters

to the music of an unending

universal

heartsong

Nature as Metaphor

God happened to Suzanne and me yesterday.  We were sitting in the chapel for morning prayer with heaving snow falling all around us and a forecast for 7 inches on our minds, when I opened the bible to the day’s assigned reading from Isaiah (55: 10-11):

“For as the rain and snow come down from heaven,

and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,

giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

So shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”

What a stunningly beautiful metaphor of God and life to read in the 3rd month of winter…

We had no choice but to follow it by singing Rain Down (“rain down, rain down, rain down your love on your people, rain down, rain down, rain down your love, God of life”)!

The trees, the water, the flowers and stones, the birds, the ice – nature constantly provides us with metaphors for the spiritual life: trees bending, flowers blooming, seeds sprouting, birds singing and soaring, ice melting, water filling…

But they aren’t trying to do any of this, they aren’t doing it for us, they are simply being.  Being themselves, being what they were created to be.  They are not thinking about it, not choosing to be an example, not wondering if they are correct; just simply living and being. 

And that makes it all the more powerful.

fireboxes

I am a firebox.*

The fire is the Spirit of God alive within me, “luminously glowing,” keeping the “house” of my life warm and vibrant.

To keep a fire going, you must pay attention to it, tend it, stoke it. If you forget about it, it will go out, and if the ashes get cold, it will need to be completely restarted, which is not an efficient use of energy. and meanwhile the house gets cold.

Be always mindful of holding the light of Christ, of God, within you.

*Brayton’s terms for woodstove

first impressions

I went to church in Ware today for the fourth time.  The pastor stood on his head.  The 60-something balding man did a head-stand on the cement floor of the fellowship hall. 

It was his first Sunday.  Which is the only reason we were in the fellowship hall in the first place – because there was actually a coffee hour (!) to welcome him. 

I think the congregants were shocked, or at least highly amused at his antics.  But all he was doing was making friends with the 5-year-old girls who were jumping rope with a pink scarf (which was amusing in itself!)   Reminded me of Dad.  :)

It was nice to finally get to meet some of the members of the congregation, actually talk to people, introduce myself, learn some names, and be welcomed into the community as more than just a guest.  How is a guest supposed to be drawn in to a congregation if there’s no fellowship time after worship?  Thank goodness for new pastors, I guess…

Welcoming the new year

What a wonderful way to end one year and begin another – a reflective mass with 6 other people in the chapel, sharing our prayers and hopes for the coming year.  So much more meaningful and purposeful than your traditional New Year’s Eve celebration, which often seems to be just another excuse to have a party.

I can hear fireworks going off, echoing through the valley.  It would be quite a sight to see them from the edge of the Quabbin, looking out across the water…but I will enjoy imagining the beauty of it, and not think about the fact they are really imitations of exploding bombs…

Happy new year, and may this one be filled with more love, more spirit, more peace, more hope in our lives and our world.