Celebrate being a Grandma!

It's precious, being a Grandma for the first time, then having Taryn's baby sister be born too!
Today Taryn is a bouncing almost four year old, with a lively, happy Eliza Jane enjoying her life too; she will be two later this month, on the 23rd of July.  Today they're here in Ashland, so I'll be going to join  them soon at their sweet place out near Emigrant Lake.  I woke up with a few tears, to realize I don't have the space to have them stay with me in my tiny apartment; then I realized we have only a couple of days to be together, and a few years ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to enjoy being a Grandma.  Who cares where we meet?  It's just a blessing to have this time to be together with my family, and I am grateful we can celebrate by having some fun times.  In spirit, my mom will be with us too, for she dearly loved being a Grandma; it was one of the highlights of her senior years.  I share her love for hanging out with the grandkids and watching my own son and his wife enjoy these vital years, for so quickly they do grow up!  So adieu for now, and may all of you who are grandparents treasure the times you get to be with these spacial, magical children!

A PRAYER FOR OUR TIME

                            A PRAYER FOR OUR TIME

Dear Mother/Father God, who art still a great mystery

Please reside in our hearts as well as in the world all around us

Hallowed be thy presence, like a cool stream on a hot summer’s day

May we feel your compassion, your kindness, and your deep abiding love.

When the world we see continues to live with war, violence, grave injustices

That are undermining the well-being of our planet, it is easy to feel discouraged.

We are in a critical time, Oh Creator, and we need some levity-laughter, song, prayers, a growing awareness of how each of us can begin in earnest to work with others

To nurture choices that will allow a rebirth of hope, an end to labors that leave us depleted and exhausted.  We need to be curious and creative, not so fearful and defensive.

We need to open to what can sustain and preserve life, in our personal and communal lives.  We need to live with so many questions yet unanswered.   We need Faith!

Please hear our prayers, our lamentations for the misunderstandings that create conflict.

Help us truly hear and honor one another.  This is Father’s Day.  Please be with all fathers, those who have passed on, those learning new ways to parent and be willing partners, those who are lonely and lacking the family support, the community they need to thrive.  Please help the rest of us find simple ways to honor and support these men who are interwoven in our lives, too.  Thank you for listening.  It feels good to share with you! 

     Shalom.  May we feel your blessings as we go about this new day!    

          From Carol, written June 15, 2014

IT TAKES COURAGE

            IT TAKES COURAGE

It takes courage to stay committed to changing our familiar habits.

It takes courage to be a friend to one who is having a tough time.

It takes courage to realize the group vision is no longer one we share,

  And there is a time to let it go even when others disapprove.

It takes courage to persevere without attachment to the outcome we’d prefer.

It takes courage to find that balance between self-care and being engaged in community

It takes courage to pause, take time-out to decide “Is this a good choice at this time in my life?” or do I need to say no, and let others take on this project.

If we focus on our doubts and fears, we may not take a risk where courage and awareness are required.

It takes courage to stand up for peace, for justice, for an unfolding sense of urgency that

   means taking an unpopular stand.  It takes courage to be true to ourselves in a culture

   that bombards us with messages to conform, or stay silent.

It takes courage to walk the path chosen by few, and be willing to stand alone if need be.

If we’ve had many setbacks, it takes courage to trust life is good, despite the difficult times we all encounter along the way.

It takes courage to be vulnerable, to trust there are times to retreat to find our center again. 

It takes courage to get up each morning with a smile on our face, and welcome the new day!  It takes courage to write and share our thoughts and aspirations with others.

 IT TAKES COURAGE to make a commitment to stand by a partner, as Jaime and Meagan are doing in getting married in 2015!

EASTER, Looking back 35 Years

                        MEMORIES OF EASTER WEEKEND 1979 (Photo is March 2014)

            Our family was on a sabbatical year in Flagstaff, Arizona, far from our usual spring in the snowy grips of April in Alberta, Canada.  This was to be a different Easter.

            We were camping in Organ Pipes National Monument, west of Tuscan.  The trip began with serious rain that got under our tent, leaving us with the task of drying wet, down sleeping bags before the next night.  Too much rain can be as daunting as too much snow, particularly when we were far from the comforts of home and dry bedding.

            Yet as Easter approached, and we’d dried our bags in the nearest laundromat, the brightly colored Jelly Beans I’d bought for this trip became the venue for our first family Easter Egg hunt.  Jeff was nine.  Neal was five.  An element of surprise made a morning hike for our first sunny day more promising, and I’d scouted ahead, hiding the tiny egg-like jelly beans behind rocks, boulders, and the variety of cacti along the trail.  We’d never had Easter in a church so our sons weren’t familiar with the Christian version, but it was a time to be together, celebrating new life unfolding after the rainy winter.  It was likely our first hike together since the fall before.  Our community was the earth, sky, tiny flowers unknown to me, and the marvelous cacti unlike any I’d known from Death Valley days, where there were more flowers, canyons, and strange desert landscapes on very arid soil.  We were wanderers in a strange land, with few humans nearby this early in the season.

            Honestly, the details of the day are foggy in my memory, but just to be together in the sunshine, hiking easy trails with no maps, but also no danger of getting lost, was delightful.  We could stretch our limbs and be silly now that the rain had passed.  The red plumes on the ocotillo cacti were cool, and  the boys loved the incentive of  finding flavorful, sugar full jelly beans to supplement our usual healthy trail mix, triscuits, cheese, celery and carrot sticks.  Likely we had some salami too, for protein and fat that traveled well for camping.  This was before the days when I kept diaries, though that was common for me in backpacking growing up.  Writing became back-burner with the responsibilities of being a wife and mom of two young sons.  It would be years before I discovered I was a poet, not just a list-maker and journalist.

            “Wow, Mom, where’d you get these neat treats?  Chocolate bunnies too, awesome!”  Jeff rarely praised my menu ideas, so this felt special.  He and Neal were actually enjoying the day, something not always true when they had to share close quarters in our 4-person tent and share with getting drinking water and dishes clean-up.

            The storyteller in me was still dormant, but I had along a great book of coyote tales, so before dark we’d read about the trickster and his many pranks while John was out taking photographs.  Jeff had a toy camera early on, and I don’t recall Neal’s passions at age five, but he did enjoy hiking.  That summer the boys joined us and Grandma Jeanette for their first real backpack trip into the Mineral King area.  So this trip was the precursor for the longer mountain trips to come.

            We didn’t sing the Halleluiah Chorus or  “Jesus Christ is Risen today” but it was a true Easter.  We were coming back to life after a hard winter, exploring options we’d never known in our Canadian spring times.  To this day, all four of us still love being in the mountains or the desert.  Neal’s daughters are learning to love the coast of California instead of cross country skiing.  Despite all the craziness we were all experiencing, getting out in the woods or seashore or mountains still gives us all solace and perspective!   Thirty-five years later we are rarely in the same place, but the wonders and beauty of wilderness continue to inspire the four of us.  I am so happy to say, my daughters, Lara and Meagan, grew up loving sacred places like Yosemite, the California or Chilean coast, and amazing arboretums and museums that expose them to the beauty and historical significance of earlier as well as current times.  Being connected to the natural world gives us all resilience and renewal for the rigors we all face, too.  Strong roots give us the ability to be both strong and flexible in life’s storms.  Learning to weather all sorts of conditions in nature helps us be more confident and capable in our daily lives!

BLESSINGS TO MT. ASHLAND!

We came from Arcata (Bobcat), Montague (Devon, first photo; he gave a Lakota prayer-blessing), all over the Rogue Valley to bless, honor, and offer our deep gratitude for this mountain.  She stands firm,as does her sister Mt. Shasta to the south, in the midst of a severe drought that affects all of us for many months to come.  Without the snowpack, our reservoirs, forests, lakes, and streams, the high deserts of Southern Oregon and Northern California won't have the grass growing to feed bison and cattle, to feed our farmlands with the moisture we need to grow healthy crops.  We humans will need to conserve precious water as we've not learned to do in the past.
    It was precious to join with others celebrating and blessing this mountain.  One lady came from India, with flowers, prayers, and yes, even water to share on our central altar.  We circled and sang with Winsong, "Earth my mother, water my blood, air my breath, and fire my spirit."  The ceremony was healing for Mt. Ashland, and for all who came at this difficult time in our common history.  The mountain needs to know we care and love her, and we need her many blessings to all of us.  So as we go our separate ways, may we remember this day, and continue to offer our prayers to the sacred mountains  that protect and encircle us.
   The mountains know the virtues of stillness, of standing firm no matter the weather, of persevering in the drought as well as the times of abundance.  It wasn't a winter for skiers to enjoy the slopes, and have their usual mountain high
to keep their bodies and their spirits up.  We need to trust our blessings will be heard, and surrender to powers greater than we can control.  That's it for now, folks!

IT'S TOUGH

IT’S TOUGH, SEEING MY SON IN PAIN

This dear man, my first born over forty years ago,

Is recovering with grace and his quiet manner

From surgery for a troubling hernia

I weep, as so many mothers must when their beloved children have to endure pain

The usual pace of life, ground to a halt,

The basic movements of standing, sitting, walking, getting the intestines moving again

Are now a labor he must endure with patience

Hoping each day to be stronger

The discomforts of recovering from surgery I know all too well

Often the pain comes as a shock,

For suddenly bodily functions one takes for granted

No longer can be counted on, and we learn to be tender, to be humble

To know what it means to have no one by your side

When it could sure be helpful.

So while it is tough to see my son in pain he had no way to prepare for

It’s special to be able to give a helping hand

Be with him when he’s feeling vulnerable and unsteady

His balance will return, the injuries this time will heal if he paces himself

The pain will subside.  We all experience labor that hurts.  That seems to be part of life.

We don’t have many folks who make house calls,

Even when we take the time to make friends, few come when we’re in pain.

It does feel good to be able to share my love

As he has done so many times when I’ve been overwhelmed by life, by loss

Friends who care come in all shapes, ages, and sizes

Thank goodness kindness still comforts us, no matter our age

We are meant to give one another a helping hand, for true friendship

Is reciprocal.  We help one another moved by love, not gain.

It’s hard to imagine the courage our vets and their families must muster

When they return severely injured, often in body, mind and soul,

Sadly, we are a culture that prefers to deny their suffering, their sacrifices except on special occasion, then too often, we forget them.

We can choose to be there for one another, to show our caring

In whatever ways suit our own talents and energy.

 For some, a comment of encouragement on Facebook

 May be the best way to show empathy, or an earnest hug for Jeff

When his sore incision area is feeling better.  May he rest in peace this night,

And continue to regain his strength.  May his generous heart be open

To receiving love from family and friends in the weeks to come!

IN THE DARK AND SILENT NIGHT

IN THE DARK AND SILENT NIGHT, ALL IS CALM

In the dark and silent night, all indeed is calm. 

We have passed safely through the Darkest Night

Signs of a New Dawn, even midst the bleak and trying times

Begin to unfold in mysterious ways

In the labors to keep Downton Abbey alive as the aristocracy must learn to adapt if it is to survive, we see Matthew, Tom Bronson and his Lordship, still head of the Crawley estate, forging a coming together after their mistrust came so close to dividing them.

Matthew knows the legal, financial needs, Tom has the Irish farmer knowledge of the common folks, and his Lordship, father of Mary and her sisters, now feels he is not being disregarded, but included in vital ways to preserving Downton as it faces a very different future.  Tom agrees to join the House cricket team, and Matthew coaches him on this game he knew nothing about.  Everyone  needs to rally, and games are a time-honored way we bond even in difficult times.

After his experience in prison, falsely accused of murder, Bates has a new empathy for Thomas, facing shame and dim prospects of new employment if Carson sends him off without a letter of reference.  For all his mistakes, Thomas is not evil, but a gay man in a day when it was criminal to be so; with Bates speaking to his Lordship, Thomas has a second chance by playing on the house cricket team, and finding a new position downstairs as a footman.  The downstairs women help soften Carlson’s heart, and forgiveness and good will begin to brighten prospects for the emerging alliances, both upstairs and downstairs; they have a need to work for the common good.

With the passing of Nelson Mandela, the world for a brief time comes together to honor and respect this incredible man who, even when imprisoned, envisioned a South Africa not just free of the curses of apartheid.  He began to create a homeland where men and women of all races could live side by side, free at last in ways never thought possible before he began the journey of reconciliation, forgiveness, bringing joy and celebration to a land known for its intolerance and harsh indifference to the humanity of its black and poor people.  He was a leader both humble and willing to suffer personally to see his dream come true.  President Obama spoke of leaning from Mandela that it does matter if we strive to be the best we are capable of becoming, not settling for an easier life if we have talents that may help change the course of our country’s destiny.  Light is returning, and the struggles for justice and equality are making a new world order possible.

So as we slumber, let us give thanks we are part of this unfolding, this enormous time of transition if the planet is to survive.  Men and women, all colors, rich and poor beginning to envision a future that embraces and includes us all. “Peace, peace, peace, peace, wars have been, and wars must cease.  We must learn to live together. Peace, peace, peace”—the words of our beloved Dave Marston in a gathering of poets and musicians in the fall before he died.  May we learn to grieve, to laugh, to love and honor one another and be part of the great healing with our circles of reconciliation and deep listening to one another.  May the Chalice indeed replace the Blade in the years to come.

 Shalom, my sisters and my brothers.  The old ways are dying, and new blessings lay dormant, waiting to receive the Light.  May the New Year indeed be a much happier, healthier one, where we dare to address real issues and forge a more compassionate way of living, working, and being together.

   Carol Browning in the predawn hours of December 23, 2013