Procrastination

Today I finally took needle and thread and sewed on two buttons that have begged to be returned to their rightful spot for almost a year.  They mocked me as they revealed once again that "procrastination" is a flaw in my tightly knit life that I am not only accustomed to, but with which I seem to be very comfortable. In a strange way I thrive on this trait energized by deadlines and near misses.  On the other hand I love to pursue silence and seek to live in the "moment". Mystery......

I have been invited by my son to take a closer look at my life's journey, explore the mystery, separate the threads, and share my story. It will take time, but as an introduction I bumped up against an image that has been with me for about fifty years. I do not remember the circumstances under which I was first introduced to the "white stone" of Revelation, but it immediately captured my imagination and continues to do so.  Mystery.........  

Inspired by - Revelation 2:17

On the white stone is written a new name that no one knows except the one who receives it.

White stone secret

White stone rests in hand

Smooth, tumbled, lined, water’s gift

A secret revealed

Journey stone

A promise hidden

Journey stone humbly received

White, smooth, gently held

UNRAVEL

Unravel, according to Webster's dictionary means to: "separate threads, or solve a mystery",both apt descriptions for today's blog.

Early in the New Year my son invited me to share with him (and in turn my grandchildren) what I thought I had inherited from my parents. This is a challenging, complicated and curious question. I have probably spent most of my life, in one way or another trying not to be my parents. A casual glance at my life would illustrate more differences than similarities, a deeper look...we shall see!


A couple of years ago I knit my husband a sweater. It was one of those projects that began simply and developed a life of its own. My husband chose the yarn, a deep teal (the photo doesn't reflect its true color) 100% mercerized cotton made in Greece, he had a vision for the kind of sweater he wanted and I searched for a pattern. The first pattern I tried didn't do the yarn justice, the second created a "hand" like iron; the third using half-linen stitch seemed perfect. At one point in the knitting, it lay by the side of my chair approximately half finished when in answering the phone I dumped onto it a full bowl of mushroom soup. The washing and drying was not satisfactory, I "unraveled" and began again! In time I finished the sweater and my husband tried it on, he decided the neckline wasn't comfortable, I "unraveled" and refashioned it. At times when I left the knitting for a period, because work took precedence, I came back and found errors and redoes were required. From the beginning I was not happy with the sweater, but my husband loved it and wore it with affection. Every time he put it on I could see all the places I stopped and started, small flaws became magnified until a few days ago I decided to unravel the sweater and start again.

As I began to unravel the sweater I discovered new problems. The sweater was very well constructed and with knitted seams connecting front to back, and along the sleeve seams, it is proving to be a challenge. On reflection this unraveling project dovetails with the questions my son raised in relation to what I inherited from my parents. It has become a metaphor for the task ahead of me. Over the years I have knit a life for myself, I have worn it like my husband wore his sweater,  with love and affection. Aware of its imperfection and flaws I have at times made corrections, removed the spills, and stitched it tightly together. Now I have been invited to look at it more closely and I see that in order to answer my son's questions I must "unravel" ; separate the threads solve the mystery...it will take time.

Human beings together

It is extremely hard for me to believe that January 16 is here already. My last post was January 1...had I made a New Resolutions, which blissfully I didn't, it would have been to blog daily! So much has happened already, wonderful visits by phone and internet with friends and family, wishing health and happiness in 2010. Slogging through the cold and snow, and enjoying the most brilliant blue skys and sunshine. Death and birth, laughter and tears all within the span of a few days time.

Reading a reflection this morning by Fr. Ed Hay he included this verse from the Persian Muslim poet-mystic Saadi Shirazi:


Human beings are all members of one body.
They are created by the same essence.
When one is in pain, the others cannot rest.
If you do not care about the pain of others,
You do not deserve to be called a human being.

As my husband and I celebrated a belated anniversary dinner last evening, we gave thanks for our lives together and all that is good in our life, including with our prayers of thanks our concern for the survivors in Haiti. The devastation there is overwhelming and it is difficult to stand by helpless. This verse by Saadi Shirazi highlighted for me what I believe many of us are experiencing. Thank God we are human beings, and that restlessness tugs at the soul as we are bombarded with the images of sadness and desolation. I urge those who read my blog to do one small thing to aid the Haitian people - give money, pray, support any local effort and remember how blest you are.

Our world is small and this is a reminder that we are all interconnected whether we recognize it or not. May we enlarge our hearts and minds as we learn what it is to be fully human.

Welcome 2010

It is hard to believe that this is January 1, 2010. I had so many plans about how to finish out the old year, be prepared for the New Year, and be ready to start bright and early on 1-1-2010! It of course makes no difference the past year was a good and full one and I give thanks for all the blessings that made it so. I look forward to the unfolding of the year ahead and will take it as it comes.

I do have some hopes for this year - most important for me is to improve my ability to live "mindfully", if I do that,  then I feel all else will go as it should. Shalom.

Stuck

I am feeling good today! On the note pad on my computer I post all the tasks I need to get done, it is satisfying to be able to delete each one as it is accomplished. This morning I completed my last task,  a "Living Portrait" it had been mocking me daily, for months. I accomplished more things because of its presence. It wasn't that I didn't want to finish it! It was pure and simply the fact that I was "stuck". Now it is done, a clean screen and I wait to discover what new projects will come to me in the weeks ahead. Have you ever noticed how many distractions come to you when you are "stuck"?  

This is Christmas week and in a way I am still  "stuck". I am stuck at the beginning of Advent, those days of waiting that prepare us for the great celebration of Jesus' birth. Somehow the journey never really got underway this year. I have three days left to Christmas Eve and a month's worth of preparation untouched. I am not talking about external things, but things of the spirit...my heart, mind and soul are not yet ready. The one thing I do know is that whether I am ready or not the day will come, and by some mystery the Child Jesus will transform my life, if just for a moment with wonder.

All Around Wonder!

“How full of the creative genius is the air on which these are generated!
I should hardly admire them more if real stars fell and lodged on my coat.” – Henry David Thoreau, Journal, 1856


I came out of the big snow with the same awe that enthralls me every time the air is filled with, and the ground covered by snowflakes. That every single flake is unique, perfectly symmetrical, and fragile, is a source of wonder to me. Like life and death I know I stand before a great mystery, and in its presence I am enlarged.


I ventured this week into capturing the image of ice crystals (I don’t have the equipment nor the patience to capture snowflakes) looking through my magnifying glass a new world unfolded. I tentatively prepared my camera and held it against the window, clicked and clicked and then headed to my computer to see what I had captured. For me it was a moment of awe – like Thoreau I couldn’t be more thrilled if I had captured a star!


Reflecting on the snow and the year's cycle the following words came to mind – hardly poetry but I share them as today’s meditation.


In winter,
falling snow’s
shimmering radiance illuminates
darkening days.

In spring,
green shoots
through dark earth grasps
a new year of light.


In summer,
diamond beads
dew like on slender threads
a new morning greets


In fall,
last leaves
blown free by winter’s breath
cold earth accepts.


In winter,
ice crystals
on cold surface dance
awaiting spring…..

Times Past

A week ago I attended the Wake and Funeral of a wise and humble woman, a Sinsinawa Dominican Sister. Her life was a blessing and example for many. As her friends shared their memories, a similar story emerged. Over the years, at critical times, a manila envelope would arrive by mail from her. The contents in each envelope were similar, but geared to the specific needs of the recipient. Always the envelope contained a beautifully penned personal letter, with words that spoke directly to the heart and needs of the person, a devotional booklet, and several wisdom quotes. Each of us commented that we kept all correspondence and that it continues to nourish us.

It caused me to ponder the value of letter writing. Today most of my communication is through email messages. Brief telephone calls, but usually only to confirm things previously discussed. I learn most about my friends and family from their Face book pages or Blogs. On rare occasions I enjoy their company over a leisurely lunch, but these are hard to fit in the schedule. Letter writing, almost never!

My husband keeps in his file, maybe as a reminder of bygone days, a letter written from his great grandparents in NJ to his grandparents in MO. It was 1858 and the address read: “St. Louis below Alton on the other side of the great river.” Both the contents of the letter and the mailing address cause us to reflect on the length to which family and friends went to stay in touch with one another.

In her book Refuge, Terry Tempest Williams writes, “Our correspondences show us where our intimacies lie. There is something very sensual about a letter. The physical contact of pen to paper, the time set aside to focus thoughts, the folding of the paper into the envelope, licking it closed, addressing it, a chosen stamp, and then the release of the letter to the mailbox – are all acts of tenderness. And it doesn’t stop there. Our correspondences have wings – paper birds that fly from our house to yours – flocks of ideas criss-crossing the country. Once opened, a connection is made. We are not alone in the world.”

As we look back in history and literature we see how much of a person’s life and relationship has been shared with us through letters sent to and received from lovers, friends, family and colleagues, much that would have otherwise been lost. Centuries of persons encouraged by the gentle or challenging words of a mentor. Will our emails, web pages and blogs offer such tender or penetrating insights?

It has been years since I shared correspondence of any significance with anyone. I manage an occasional card, a once a year duplicated Christmas letter (although last year I didn’t even manage that), and at times a brief note of thanks, encouragement or condolence. I enjoy the communication I have via technology it fits my lifestyle, but I wonder what I might be missing from a written page that can be read over and over, folded neatly, tucked away and cherished.

This topic I think requires more reflection