To find Leonard Peltier on my ballot as a presidential candidate. I thought it was the Leonard Peltier, and I was right. Several coworkers I spoke with had no clue as to who he is. If I’d not had a ten-year friendship with a Navajo whose family members had been loosely associated with the American Indian Movement, I might not know this either.
Only in California. It’s a phrase I hear quite a bit since moving here.
The real damage is done by those millions who want to “survive.” The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don’t want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won’t take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonizing their own weakness. Those who don’t like to make waves — or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honor, truth, and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It’s the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you’ll keep it under control. If you don’t make any noise, the bogeyman won’t find you. But it’s all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.
–Sophie Scholl
Today’s post is created with the intention of celebrating Siona’s birthday. Her care has been comforting and vital in my transition to the west coast. She is a lovely, sweet soul. I hope today she feels how much she is loved.
So Much Happiness It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to
pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs,
or change.But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records…Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.–Naomi Shihab Nye
I found this in a book on texts to use for a wedding, and it brought tears to my eyes. It captured and distilled my own experience. I may use it in my own upcoming wedding.
A Prayer For a Wedding
because everyone knows exactly what’s good for another
because very few see
because a man and a woman may just possibly look at each other
because in the insanity of human relationships there still
may come a time we say: yes, yes
because a man or a woman can do anything he or she pleases
because you can reach any point in your life saying: now, I want
this
because eventually it occurs we want each other, we want
to know each other, even stupidly, even uglily
because there is at best a simple need in two people to try
and reach some simple ground
because that simple ground is not so simple
because we are human beings gathered together whether
we like it or not
because we are human beings reaching out to touch
because sometimes we grow
we ask a blessing on this marriage
we ask that some simplicity be allowed
we ask their happiness
we ask that this couple be known for what it is,
and that the light shine upon it
we ask a blessing for their marriage
–Joel Oppenheimer
Grizzled companions
sun themselves, reminiscing
about pre-cane days.
Edit: I received an email from Ronni Bennett at Time Goes By regarding this haiku. I thought it beneficial to share the exchange here.
From Ronni:
…[the haiku] posted on your site last Sunday with the excellent black-and-white photo of two old men on a bench, disturbs me. It is everything I rail against on Time Goes By every day.
The physical debilities that lead to using a cane are not synonymous with mental incapacity, as your haiku implies, and old people who need help walking are not pining the good old days — they have plenty of other things on their minds; these two old men could be discussing the war in Iraq or the American election or nuclear physics or a culture that continues to believe the myth that they’ve lost all their marbles because they are old.
Please take this into consideration in the future when you portray old people.
My response:
I’m sorry. I certainly intend no offense, nor want to perpetuate cultural myth. I do realize that physical debility does not imply mental incapacity (my own parents are great examples). The words to the haiku arose from the title associated with the photo, and indicate how deeply rooted such ideas are. We are products of our culture, and those of us who attempt to be aware still have our blind spots. I appreciate your helping me to notice this. If you’d like to take a turn at writing a replacement haiku (5-7-5), be my guest. I’ll use that instead!
Then Ronni:
Oh, Kathryn, writing 500-800 word essays every day is about as good as I get. Limiting myself to 17 syllables is not a possibility in time or talent.
Re: your “…those of us who attempt to be aware still have our blind spots” in your note: — that’s why Time Goes By and Crabby Old Lady and I are here. It is the off-hand repetition that reinforces the myths and needs to be caught at every turn to change prevailing attitudes.
Language is a powerful tool, for good or ill. When blacks, 40 years ago, demanded to be referred to as “black” or “African-American” instead of “Negro” is when attitudes and laws began to change and we at last got good civil rights legislation. There is still a long way to go, but great strides have been made, much of it on respectful language alone.
Repetition of respectul references can help change attitudes toward old people too.
Thanks for understanding.
Ronni gave permission to use this exchange, as I think it very relevant in exposing how insidious ageism is. Even I, who trained as a therapist, cannot escape cultural influences. The best we can all do is be receptive to reminders that they shape us and make changes as we become aware.
I wonder if women’s special problem with food did not start with Eve and the apple. Eve wanted “more” out of life, and food became the symbolic representation of her cravings for knowledge. Male scholars like to see apple-eating as a symbol for sexual desire, but Eve’s daughters may be closer to the real meaning when they equate food with existential hungerings to be divinities themselves.
–Angela Barron McBride, “Fat Is Generous, Nurturing, Warm…,” Overcoming Fear of Fat
If I knew that today would be the last time IÂ’d see you, I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul. If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door, IÂ’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more. If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice, IÂ’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, IÂ’d tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already.
–Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Dear Internet,
Your presence in my life means a great deal to me. I’ve “met” numerous good souls through blogging and surfing. You’re a wonderful community.
That said, last night’s news about my friend’s devastating loss made me aware of numerous three-dee people from whom I have withheld myself lately. Some of these folks are far, far away. I can’t control the geographical distance or the time difference. I have a job which requires hours of my life. When the above quote landed in my inbox, I decided it’s time to take a break and make the effort to interact in slightly more immediate ways. I’ve been robbing myself and my loved ones of connection, and the pendulum needs to swing the other way for awhile.
I’ll be back in a few. I’ll probably post haiku as usual. Otherwise, there’s a lengthy blogroll to peruse.
I came to Egypt and all the restrictions and carefully plotted exercise routines flew out the window. It’s impossible to avoid this food and stock up on that and do 15 minutes of cross training before your stint on the treadmill in Egypt. There are no nutrition labels. The only thing carb-free is the malnourished kid on your doorstep.
–Willow, Life as a Dervish
Willow’s post is a sweet meditation on body love and food, and her experience of Ramadan in helping her become more conscious of the relationship between the two. Another passage of hers that hit a chord:
It’s not part of the Shaheda—the oath one takes when one becomes a Muslim—but implicit in the boundaries of the religion is the following: you shall not, under any circumstances, knowingly fuck up your body ever again. Not through drinking or drugs or sex with someone who doesn’t love you. Bizarrely, this is perhaps the hardest aspect of the religion to follow…we don’t realize how used we are to letting our heads run the rest of us, or how hard it is to break free of that particular kind of bondage. The soul, I’ve discovered, is much more closely connected to the body than to the mind, despite what we commonly think. In tandem, they help each other, and the gentle pressure from each to each makes it possible, ever so slowly, to pry oneself free from one’s maladies.
Bless you, Willow, for reminding me.
[via Siona]
An excerpt from a poem by Adrienne Rich, titled Afterward:
Now that your hopes are shamed, you stand
At last believing and resigned,
And none of us who touch your hand
Know how to give you back in kind.
A dear friend called tonight to inform me that her husband committed suicide this weekend. My heart is broken for her.
Please, if you’re considering suicide, read this first. Also, a visit here will provide more links to hotline numbers. There is hope. Please hold on and reach out.
It may be agreeable for certain people to live a retired life in a quiet place away from noise and disturbance. But it is certainly more praiseworthy and courageous to practice Buddhism living among your fellow beings, helping them and being of service to them.
–Walpola Sri Rahula
Imagine my amusement and relief at reading this:
Not only can I not recall my experiences in my previous lives, sometimes I can’t even remember what I did yesterday.
–Dalai Lama
I don’t use the word enlightenment because the term itself is very loaded. To many people it implies a kind of Big Bang after which you are eternally in a steady state called enlightenment. While in fact the actual experience is a kind of opening in spaciousness, here and now, which allows anything to come and go, with no resistance. It is not a state, it is just relaxing into a natural ease of being. It’s already here. When people use the word enlightenment, it implies some point in time that you hop into or it happens to you and then you are there for ever more … I don’t think this is a good way of thinking about it.
It is only in this profound relaxation into your simplest being — just being, just having tea, just talking, just seeing and hearing — is the treasure we’ve been searching for.
What I teach is realization, not meditation. In realization, you live in what is so-called meditation. You live in this sense of beingness, in wakeful, present awareness, which any good meditation practice worth its salt is trying to get to.
I’m suggesting that you recognize that that’s really all that’s going on anyway, and just hang out there. From that perspective, you don’t have to call it meditation, and we certainly don’t call it practice, because the very word ‘practice’ implies a goal, a future.
We’re speaking about that which is not in the future, there is no future. It is fully present right now and is always just here, just now. It’s a way of being — living as meditation, living as presence.
–Catherine Ingram
[via whiskey river]
What is “grace?”
Grace
There are days when I wonder why I take up space and consume resources. What good do I possibly do? I feel that no matter what effort I expend, it’s not enough. Sometimes I think too much about this, becoming absorbed with my ego. What I need at these times is a reminder that I matter, but not in the egocentric way. Rather, I need reminding that every day, the smallest action on my part has an impact, for good or ill, whether or not I know it. It is helpful at these times to recall as many situations as I can in which I participated with Creation toward a greater good. We are instruments of grace in this world, whether we demonstrate it with a kind deed, make a welcoming atmosphere for someone, forgive a wrong, or extend compassion in heart and action toward another.
The moment of grace comes to us in the dynamics of any situation we walk into. It is an opportunity that God sews into the fabric of a routine situation. It is a chance to do something creative, something helpful, something healing, something that makes one unmarked spot in the world better off for our having been there. We catch it if we are people of discernment.
–Lewis B. Smedes, A Pretty Good Person
Describe an incident (or more than one) when you were in the right place at the right time and the world was a better place because of what you did.
–taken from 100 Ways to Keep Your Soul Alive: Living Deeply and Fully Every Day
Appreciation of life itself, becoming suddenly aware of the miracle of being alive, on this planet, can turn what we call ordinary life into a miracle.
–Dan Wakefield