Take Time To Remember

Out on the deck late last night, Tom and I gazed at the stars, finding the Big Dipper and a faintly visible Little Dipper. The night was lovely, with a refreshing breeze that was reminiscent of the day's warmth. I was suddenly filled with a rush of memories of my father -- how he would take us up to the roof of our summer cabin as children and we would lay on our backs marveling at the beauty of the stars.  He would point out the Big Dipper, explaining how to find the North Star and from there, the Little Dipper.  My father was a fascinating storyteller and always had Native American legends or poems about each constellation that kept us in rapt attention.

Memorial Day weekend was always our first big picnic at the cabin, when extended family would join us for cookouts, hikes in the woods, campfires with s'mores and when it got dark, the
ever-exciting "torch walk". My dad would lead all the children on a "scary" walk through the woods and point out the "gnome trees", telling his signature stories to make everything seem mysterious and magical. 

During the day, one of our favorite activities was hiking to the pine woods, which involved walking through the farmer's field at the edge of the woods for what seemed like miles (my dad would often carry me on his shoulders when I was very young).  Once there, we were enchanted by the soft energy and lovely scent of the tall pines as we strolled through a path that led to a large open meadow where we would often build a fire and cook hotdogs for lunch.

On July 4th, there were fireworks and sparklers, sleeping bags under the stars and ghost stories by campfire late into the night.  My mother and I would plant flowers and have long chats on the deck in the early morning, when the younger children were still asleep.  So many memories... 

Our cabin on the hill still stands; my brother recently put on a new roof and a pretty little deck near the fire pit.  Last week, we gathered the families for an outdoor picnic to say goodbye to my brother and his wife as they move to their retirement home in Kentucky.  We dug a hole under the beautiful shade tree that my parents planted as a sapling long ago and buried some of each of their ashes as I read a quote by Kahlil Gibran:

"Mourn me not with the color of black, but dress in color and rejoice with me...talk not of my departure with sighs in your hearts, close your eyes and you will see me with you forevermore..."

Whoever it is that you remember on this Memorial Day, whether it is someone who died in battle or fought bravely and returned from a war to build a rich life, as my father did, trust that they will live on in your heart and can be recalled in memory forever.

 

Peace Begins With Me

The unrest and pain of the world can seem overwhelming.  Current events weigh heavily on our hearts and it may feel like we're powerless to change anything.  What can we do, after all, in the face of racism, violence and economic disparity and uncertainty?  Is there reason to hope? 

I see hope always, in the morning -- each day is new and fresh.  I step out into the garden and am delighted to find that it is bursting with life and promise.  Irises and peonies budded and ready to open, green and white hostas refreshed by the rain, birds singing their morning ode to joy. 
 

As I breathe in the morning air and sigh a prayer,  an old song comes to mind:           

"Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me...

Let There Be Peace on Earth
The peace that was meant to be

With God as our Father
Brothers all are we
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony.

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.

With ev'ry step I take
Let this be my solemn vow
To take each moment and live

each moment in peace eternally

Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me".....(songwriters Jill Jackson and Sy Miller)

 

I can begin, this morning, to keep peace in my heart, to be kind and to build others up rather than judge or diminish in any way.  I can search my heart and ask God to remove any prejudice that is there so that I can fully see the worth of others, even those whose viewpoints differ from my own.  I can speak out against injustice when I see it and vow to never be silent in the face of evil. 

I take a moment now, to be silent, to follow my breath to the source of my being, releasing all thoughts; filling my heart with the rosy light of peace and love.  

I give this to the world, as my small offering...

when I move from the Silence to action, I carry this with me and go in peace.

 

Flowers Make My Heart Sing

 One of the greatest gifts of spring is a flower, or more precisely, many flowers. A constant parade of loveliness: Crocuses, tulips, daffodils, flowering trees, irises and peonies fill our world with beauty and color, so welcome after the gray cold of winter and loss.

This morning, I was out walking in my neighborhood and was "surprised by joy" (to quote Wordsworth and C.S. Lewis) at the sight of my neighbor's colorful tulip bed glistening in the morning sun. I felt a familiar leap of joy in my heart that I've come to think of as inner singing.

 Flowers have always made my heart sing; from the time I was a small girl and my Swiss grandmother took me by the hand as we strolled through her backyard garden. She pointed out each flower by name and seemed to be as fascinated by their beauty as I was. I felt a connection to each one as warmth and happiness filled me.

I believe that flowers remind us that our Creator loves beauty and desires to share this joy with us. Blossoms are intricately designed and perfectly crafted, each one with a unique blueprint.  Aside from the loveliness they bless us with, they are essential to life on this planet. Flowers provide nectar and pollen for the bees, which in turn makes it possible for our crops to grow.

In essence, they feed our spirits and bodies as well as demonstrate to us the cycle of life.  A flower plant grows from seed, blooms and provides beauty and nectar, then withers and dies, becoming part of the soil that nourishes new plants.

They inspire our art and design, our music and poetry and most importantly, remind us that we are deeply cherished Divine beings, worthy of such beautiful gifts.

Moving Forward

 All of life is movement: the life-giving blood pumping through our bodies, a river running, the planets rotating and revolving in our solar system. Motion and change bring life; inactivity and sameness bring stagnation and decay.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I were walking in one of the parks near us, on a wooded path that borders a fast-moving creek. I was fascinated anew by the rushing water and small waterfalls spilling over rocks. There is such beauty and energy in running water; the sounds, the negative ions charging the air around it, the crystalline sight of it as it sparkles in the sun. I noticed one small area, where a tree had fallen over the winter, blocking the flow of water to create a motionless pool, and I thought about stagnant water. When there is no flow, bacteria and algae growth can create an unhealthy environment.

I guess it's the same way with us, whether we are talking about body, mind or spirit, flow is the key. It's the key to physical health, to ideas, to inspiration and to personal growth. Without flow, movement and change, we become stagnant; vulnerable to becoming ill or depressed.

Personally, although I cherish moments of stillness and reflection, I tend to be very much in motion every day. My morning begins with yoga and a walk (I'm a bit of a compulsive walker) and I stay pretty busy throughout the day.  Movement is a big part of my sense of well-being, so I sometimes wonder how I would survive if I became ill or incapacitated. I guess I would have one of those motorized wheelchairs and try to keep going!

In fact, moving forward is all we really can do.  Unfortunately, no one has invented a time machine yet (to my knowledge), so there are no do-overs.  Every day is a fresh start, as long as we don't sit and ruminate about things we cannot change. So, my advice today: keep moving, one step in front of the other (baby steps if need be), because, as Tom Petty would say: "If you don't run, you rust"!