Music, Mosaics, Leonard Cohen

"In the broken places, the light shines through." 

"Forget your perfect offering. 

There is a crack in everything, and that's how the light gets through."  ~ Leonard Cohen

I've experienced a wonderfully, moving weekend. A trip to Charlottesville's 'Front Porch' on Friday night to hear Indiscriminant Lovers - the music of Leonard Cohen - by Trent Wagler and Derek Kratzer. Deep bass, guitar, banjo, and soulful vocals.

Saturday afternoon was a matinee at James Madison University for a Pop Opera, "Bare." I had no idea what I was getting in for - a dark, powerful, moving production by some extremely talented students. I mostly went along with my fellow drama-loving daughters. I have never cried at a live performance until yesterday. I feared I'd have to walk out of the auditorium to collect myself.

Then Sunday morning, at church, another performance by Trent and Derek sharing the music of Leonard Cohen. Included in the service was a litany of prayer: Jesus Wept.

John 11:35 Jesus wept.

This has become is my favorite verse in the Bible. As a melancholy child born into the era of distrust of emotion and the power of positive thinking, I was always ashamed of my emotions and tears. So I hid them. I hid them for so long my immune system actually attacked my tear ducts and made them stop producing tears. Though I feel and think deeply, I seldom cry. What a loss to have your body not connect to your deepest self!

I admire artists who help me heal, bring me back to my own gift of melancholy, and the ability to shed soul washing tears. And, sometimes, it's most healing to lament together, in public.

I confess I don't always 'get' poetry, or Cohen's song lyrics but the music and words stir a deep pool in me. In church this morning, helping to sing along to Hallelujah "Love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah," I understood on a deeper level just how gritty love is; how so few of us open ourselves to our deepest capacity for love and grief. True emotions are so much more than positive thinking. Trent mentioned that Cohen wrote 80 verses to this song. He struggled with it! People have been trying to figure out the lyrics ever since. I love that we struggle with him. Sometimes our wrestling is not supposed to be understood by the mind. And as Cohen's music shows - even in our struggles, humor and joy can be found in the midst.

Perhaps this is what attracts me to mosaics. Brokenness turning into beauty. Cracks letting in the light. Love and hope in the darkness.

“We're all just walking each other home.” ― Ram Dass

Photo: "Bluebird"  - my first glass mosaic using small pieces broken and shattered rather than precision cut 

Surprising Connections

Blue Ridge Mountains

I recently spent 3 days on the Blue Ridge Parkway. What a wonderful place for 'nature bathing' and keeping myself grounded during the collective angst of last week. I did not want to return home, to normal routines and news cycles, not even to my beloved Starry Meadows. Taking breaks from work and for self-care is so important, but returning is always part of leaving.

As we drove home down our long lane, two beautiful sights welcomed me ....a Great Blue Heron fishing in our creek, and Great Blue Lobelia blooming on our creek bank. I bought the book, "Wildflowers of the Blue Ridge Parkway" for our trip and through researching blue flowers on the parkway, I discovered the name of flowers at home!

                      

                 Sacred Spirit often communicates to me 

                                    through such surprising connections, often                                                   involving nature and color.

On my last day in the parkway, I watched a blue heron fishing. And I ID'ed blue lobelia flowers. I felt held, reassured, coming home to the same awe-inspiring sights that I loved on the parkway. My body and soul instantly knew the deep connection: I am seen and honored, here as well as there. In the midst of hectic life, and crazy times as well as in the calm of blue skies and smooth lakes.

Blue is the color of the calm sea and the clear sky, both of which are linked to inner serenity, calm and clarity. Blue has positive effects on the mind and the body. As the color of the spirit, it invokes rest and can cause the body to produce chemicals that are calming and exude feelings of tranquility. Blue helps to slow human metabolism, is cooling in nature, and helps with balance and self-expression. Blue was also shown to slow heart rate and breathing so it can be a good color to aid in meditation or relaxation.

Don't we all need some blue in our lives these days! Be gentle with yourselves this week. Walk under blue skies, or look for blue flowers, blue birds, or simply receive your belovedness every time you see the color blue. Spirit, Christ, Creation is in you, around you, under you, before you, behind you....open your heart to see.

"Just to be is a blessing, just to live is holy." ~ Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. My favorite quote from my years at Kairos School of Spiritual Formation.

From a blog post on my page at Starry Meadows - https://www.facebook.com/StarryMeadows/

Great Blue Lobelia on the banks of Brock Creek at Starry Meadows

Do Caterpillars Poop?

"The world is vast and variable. Just as our diet must be varied and succulent for optimum health, so too the rhythms of our days must have variety and altered tempos so we can appreciate the musicality of life." ~Julia Cameron, Transitions

Since relocating to Virginia a few years ago, I've enjoyed reading the book Transitions. This entry is especially poignant with recent events in my life.

First, my doctor suggested I try the Specific Carbohydrate Diet and meds for SIBO, to solve my mystery digestive issues. Almost 30 days later, my gut health has vastly improved. Like all transitions, this new way of eating has its ups and downs. Mostly I feel super energized, but at least 2x since the beginning, bacterial die-off caused fatigue and other unpleasant digestive symptoms. (musicality of life! :)

Worst though, is going out to eat, anywhere: restaurants, potlucks, friends' and family's houses. Such often brings unwanted pity from others and the need to answer the same questions yet again, along with the daunting personal question, "Will I be able to eat anything here?" Eating with others is such a communal event. We don't want to be left out or cause another to feel left out. We navigate this the best we can.

Secondly, some children visited Starry Meadows yesterday and were fascinated by all Monarch caterpillars on milkweed. They were especially fascinated by finding lots of caterpillar poop.

Kids are often wonderfully open to life as it unfolds! Even caterpillars need healthy digestion. Isn't it marvelous the way we creatures are put together?

All this to say, life is real. Everyone struggles - no one is excluded from the varied rhythms of days. Go out and be truly present. To yourself, your body, bless your ups and downs. Bless and welcome your spontaneous responses to life's ebb and flow. Once welcomed the emotions can truly be felt and released; then the mind/heart can choose a conscious ongoing response that comes from your deepest self - the way you choose to show up in the world. Rather than displaying only knee-jerk responses.

Joyfully,

Sharon

* this post is taken from an update on my Starry Meadow's website. https://www.facebook.com/StarryMeadows/

Abundance

Sunrise at Starry Meadows

My word for 2018 is 'abundance.' I had completely forgotten! Now, remembering, I ponder my word choice.

Spring brought an abundance of rain; so much so we had a flooded lane for two months. Then came an abundance of mosquitoes and gnats. And weeds. We lost an abundance of trees, and hundreds of new saplings are rising in their place. I received an abundance of rejections so far this year. Abrupt ends to projects and job rejections. On the other hand, a beautiful, black bear and a tiny hummingbird have been showing themselves to me, with regularity. Bears symbolize strength and courage. Hummingbird symbolism is about lightness of being, enjoyment of life, being more present, bringing in playfulness and lifting up negativity.

Neighbor's photo of the bear in his yard

I saw the bear again yesterday, about 20yards ahead of where my husband and I were walking the dogs at the edge of the woods. This morning, as I sat ruminating on the following poem, a hummingbird flew right in front of me, hovering in the air, cocking its head left and right, looking me right in the eyes. The beauty and significance brought tears to my eyes.

2018 has been a challenging year. On world, country and personal fronts. Personally, I've experienced difficulties, rejection, loss of dreams. I smile remembering our move here, how we dreamed freely and were so positive about everything. Dreams take work, don't they? One needs bear-like courage and strength tempered with not taking oneself or one's dream too seriously. Laughing and playing help!

Ruby Throated Hummingbird - female- at Starry Meadows

I don't know about you but I struggle with the word 'abundance' especially when it's used in prosperity gospel teachings and even when it's used in general spirituality. I invite you to meditate with me on this poem by Saint Catherine of Siena. A surprising and beautiful woman of the 1300's offers us this surprising and beautiful poem.

THIS PLACE OF ABUNDANCE

We know nothing until we know everything.

I have no object to defend

for all is of equal value

to me.

I cannot lose anything in this

place of abundance

I found.

If something my heart cherishes

is taken away,

I just say, "Lord, what

happened?"

And a hundred more appear.

Morning Without You is a Dwindled Dawn

"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn." ~ unknown

What a poignant quote as suicides fill the news. These are anxious times for many people. I try to be kind always, but I want to do better in reaching out when I sense someone is discouraged, rather than waiting until they reach out to me.

While I'm on the subject of reaching out, yesterday while refueling at a gas station, my grandson and I waited in the car while my husband was inside buying a few items. I noticed a young woman pacing inside. She paused now then to glance at me before resuming her pacing. I watched her walk outside, and directly to my side of the car. She knocked on my window. I opened my door as the automatic window electronics were malfunctioning. She was crying. Said she was stranded, had noticed our VA license plate and was desperate for a ride to Winchester. She just needs a ride down R81. Since it was pouring raining, and our car was loaded to the max, I told her to wait inside while I talk to my husband.

When Jay came back to the car, we discussed things. Scams, the safety of our grandson, more delays to our trip. The woman sat hunched over a table inside, trying not to look at us. We kept hesitating, but finally, Jay asked me what my gut was saying. I didn't respond, just looked into his eyes. Meanwhile, in the back seat, Grandson was strongly expressing his opinion. "There is no room for her. He needs his personal space." I knew he didn't want to share the back seat with a stranger. I knew my quiet, reserved husband didn't want to share the front seat with a stranger. He was already stressed.

Unspoken thoughts flew between us. What if she was our daughter? What if she's running away from an abuser? What if she's part of a scam sting? Someone tried to scam us before at West Virginia rest stop.

My whole gut said 'just act, don't ask questions. Helping always contains risk.' I wanted Jay to come to his own conclusions. After a few more seconds of silence, he got out of the car and went in to talk to her. I reassured the grandson. Soon we were rearranging all the stuff in our car to see if we could make room. We managed to fit her in. I moved to the back seat; she wearily plopped in the front. We talked a bit as women easily do, she in the front and me directly behind her. Then, I saw her head wobble, asked if she wanted a pillow and left her be. Exhausted, she fell asleep.

The day was intense with a delay earlier to fix our window electronics, while Jay got rained on and grandson complained he was cold and getting wet. A blanket easily quieted grandson. The skies couldn't be placated. Pouring rain off and on made visibility difficult. Our old car has no AC and the defogger doesn't work the greatest either. Now we are inviting a detour and a thousand questions from our grandson. Yet she asked for help; she trusted me. The parking lot at the station was packed full and there was one empty space right in front of the spot she paced inside. Earlier we had decided to head home at 12noon rather than 9am. We might have missed this station altogether and the young woman. So many variables to this story.

After the drop off in Winchester, after exchanges of best wishes and deep gratitude, we returned to our route. It was not a 'made a new friend and everything was rosy' kind of an experience. It was awkward, uncomfortable, with lots of unanswered questions.

We came home to flooding. Again. Creek flooded with water over running over our bridge higher than ever. Our 'no pond' meadow sporting a nice pond. Worst though, our lane is almost destroyed. Gravel washed out in heaps in the hay fields and deep ruts in the lane. Must have been a downburst gusher of a rainstorm!

Life is difficult for all of us at times. The hardest thing in the world, for most of us, is to ask for help.

How would any of us survive without a little help now and then?

Let's make it easier for people to ask for help. Let's help before we are asked. Let's continue developing empathy, vulnerability, and kindness.

Because a morning without you would be a dwindled dawn.

Photo: Dawn over Starry Meadows, by Stephanie Landis

One of Those Days

You know how it is....

... on one of those days.

You wake up after a night of restless sleep and uninterpretable dreams only to find a black bear messed up your front yard. And backyard.

Because in your fatigue you chose to believe the bear

had moved on, and you didn't bring the bird feeders inside

overnight.
Plus, there is an ongoing chipmunk explosion in your flowerbeds which brings digging dogs and snakes. You find skunk holes everywhere while cleaning up the bear mess. So there could be a canine + stink rendezuous in your future. You are overwhelmed by the amount of farm work needing to be done. You feel like a failure.

How then do you live?

You work harder and faster, right? Actually, no, it's best to breathe deeply then and go for a walk. Feel the ground beneath your feet. Meditate. Ask for gratitude, patience, an easing of perfectionism, self-acceptance.

Eventually, you find wonder! Which leads to gratitude and self-acceptance.

What a surprise seeing a sunkissed fern that evaded the log skidder, as did Virginia Bluebells and Solomon's Seal. A Pileated Woodpecker scolds above, a cardinal hops across the wooded path in front of you.

As you walk and marvel, you begin remembering who you really are, and how much you love wildlife.

The trees and beasts were here before you, and will probably be here long after you're gone. That too is a wonder! You know you'll find ways to peaceably coexist.

All the work that matters to you will get done; you'll let go of the rest or ask for help.

And all will be well.

When the Roots are Deep, There is No Reason to Fear the Wind

As I sit by the fire in our warm soapstone wood stove, I hear and see wind through my window. Dry leaves piled up against the fence are easily ruffled and stirred as if gathered the arms of a giant, playful child and thrown joyfully into the air.

The leaves leap and twist, their jagged, crinkled shapes scatter in bursts before floating down in huge brown snow-like flakes.

Each gust rattles the house shutters against cedar siding, and trees outside my window stir, lean, tremble in whole body shudders. Once in a while a small branch takes flight, and slams against our bay window, my peripheral vision tracks it but not quickly enough to still a huge startle.

I think of the trees surrounding our house, surrounding the meadows I love, and I pray for the trees: stand firm my friends, hold tight to the ground; thank you for your roots. Roots remind me of the hyacinth on my bay window. Gazing at it's roots amazes me; both roots and bloom are equally beautiful! Yet there is something more intriguing about those luminous, luxurious roots. Roots usually hidden by dirt.

The roots captivated me long before the buds opened, glowing such a stunning white, long, entwined and flowing. Now that the flower is blooming, the aroma is sometimes overpowering. Often I move the vase to our cold mud room, to chill the fragrance, and give my nose a break. I do love the sight of the flower - it's reminder of spring in the dead of winter - but I wonder why the roots draw me even more than the flower. Perhaps they are symbolic of my own transitions, of putting down some new roots. What do my roots look like now? Am I beautifully, healthily grounded?

In these tumultuous times, where leaders bluster and posture like childish bullies, where much seems upside down and continuously changing, what grounds us? Love, family, community, faith, friends, deep wisdom, trust in our own beauty, our inner compass?

I love this story in Second Kings 19 of Elijah standing on a mountain, waiting for God.

 "And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; 

and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice."  

Elijah listened then, and heard his God. 

The voice of Sophia Wisdom, the guidance of Infinite Love

 is heard and experienced when we are willing to go deep, or be in stillness and silence. 

The hyacinth bulb on my window sill has no place to call home, no spot of earth to stake; it sits isolated in a portable vase. Yet, the roots grow deep, grounded for a season within the glass, feeding the flower beautifully. The bulb has within itself the power to grow well. And along with my tender care and admiration, with sunshine and water it had enough community, enough 'home' to bloom where it was planted.

We all have within us the power to care for ourselves, to listen deeply to our own voices, to the still, small voice of Infinite Love. From that grounding point, we simply grow more beautiful, and wiser, and as we open to love and deeper interaction with others.

May you find new depth and tender stillness this year, amid all the confusing hubbub, and remain firmly planted. May your roots, your depth, your insides be as beautiful as your outside.

Sharon

~~

"Maybe you are searching among the branches for what only appears in the roots." Rumi

Job 14 1-17 For a tree there is always hope. Chop it down and it still has a chance— its roots can put out fresh sprouts. Even if its roots are old and gnarled, its stump long dormant, At the first whiff of water it comes to life, buds and grows like a sapling.

"Expectation is the root of all heartache." William Shakespeare (having too high expectations ....my experience!)