sycamore wounds

The storms come.  They never ask, just come--bringing their wild and wondrous winds.  And sometimes they take what I wish they would leave.  A few weeks ago the strong winds took another limb out of my Sycamore Tree.  Yesterday Gene pulled the fallen limb from the tree.  I sat beside the tree's relic this morning and thought about how much I have loved this tree. Soon the fallen branch  will be shredded for mulch.  It will keep on giving. 

In spite of all it has been through the Sycamore tree looks lovely in the summer.  Its huge, lush green leaves hide the wounds, and as for wounds, it has had its share. When winter comes that's another story.  Its jagged broken branches, its wounds and scars are so obvious when the leaves are gone.

 There are times when I am momentarily tempted to carry the cedar swing across the campus to the huge Sycamore tree near our labyrinth that seems to  have weathered the storms better.

  Of course I change my mind quickly because you see I am married to this tree.  I will stay with it through the storms just as I would hope to stay with all the beautiful people who pass through my life---through thick and thin, joys and sorrows, good seasons and harsh seasons.

In the process of writing about the broken limbs a friend sent me a poem that I cannot refrain from sharing.

Tree Marriage

By William Meredith

In Chota Magpur and Bengal

The betrothed are tied with threads to

mango trees, they marry the trees

as well as one another, and

the two trees marry each other.

Could we do that some time with oaks,

[sycamores]

or beeches?  This gossamer we

hold each other with, this web

of love and habit is not enough.

In mistrust of heavier ties,

I would like the tree-siblings for us,

standing together somewhere, two

trees married with us, lightly, their

fingers barely touching in sleep,

our threads invisible but holding.

“Tree Marriage” by William Merdith,

From Effort at Speech.  ©Northwestern University Press, 1997

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/author.php?auth_id=1839

I very much like the suggestion that we hold each other by a thread, lightly.  It means that we do not cling and clutch, demand and bind, grasp and control.   We honor the truth that we are connected and it is a connection that respects one another.  How much we can learn from the trees.  Like them, we go on giving even after we die.

Find a tree to marry~~~

~~or maybe  you already have one.

Peace for our land and for yours!

To wish you peace this day I offer you

Stephen Mitchell's version of Psalm 121

I look deep into my heart,

to the core where wisdom arises.

Wisdom comes from the Unnamable

and unifies heaven and earth.

The Unnamable is always with you,

shining from the depths of your heart.

His peace will keep you untroubled

even in the greatest pain.

When you find him present within you,

you find truth at every moment.

He will guard you from all wrongdoing;

he will guide your feet on his path.

He will temper your youth with patience;

he will crown your old age with fulfillment.

And dying, you will leave your body

as effortlessly as a sigh.

From A Book of Psalms, trans, and adapted by Stephen Mitchell

HAPPY INTER-DEPENDENCE DAY!

STAND IN SOLIDARITY TODAY

 WITH THOSE WHO HAVE NO PEACE.

THINK PEACE ~~ PRAY PEACE  ~~ 

BE PEACE  ~~ CRY PEACE  ~ CREATE PEACE

A Bouquet of Good Intentions

My community retreat is  now over and for some unknown reason I spent a good portion of the retreat praying about all of my GOOD INTENTIONS.  I don't know who came up with that silly saying, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."  It isn't true!  Why do we so often think about things in negative terms?  We could just as easily say that the road to heaven is paved with the seeds of good intentions.  Seeds take time to germinate.   The seeds we plant in the earth require a time of waiting before they are able to blossom. Likewise, the good intentions that fall into our hearts may not blossom immediately (for many reasons).  This does not mean we should forget them

Obviously these good intentions have come from God whose name can be found in the word, good.  Just because they were given to me and yet remain unfulfilled does not mean they are dead intentions.  They are still good.  So let's ponder together some of our good intentions.  In the midst of our busy lives they visit us like guardian angels. If we have not adequately brought these good intentions to fruition today, there is always tomorrow or the next day, or even the next month or two.  They have come to us for a reason and we are the ones who can help them to blossom.

Today I am making a bouquet of my good intentions. I will print them out and put them on my bulletin board as a reminder that it is never too late to bring them to birth.  

• Write a real letter to someone in my address book.
• Go for an early morning walk at least once a week.
• Devise a regular schedule for writing..
• Visit Jackie.
• Send a card of support to our spiritual directors.
• Call Mary soon.
• Affirm someone every day.
• Work in the soup kitchen once in awhile
• Visit our Sisters in the infirmary at least once a week.
• Write on my blog at least once a week.
• Design an 'on-line' retreat experience.
• Listen to others with my very best presence.

Spend some time with your Good Intentions.

ABIDE

MORE ABIDING!  -- LESS RUSHING!

So many of us are driven, 

rushing, running, fretting, stewing, 

pacing, pacing, pacing, pacing!

I am offering all of us (myself included)  some gifts.

Let's take them like vitamins.

Learn to ABIDE:

• Linger
• Remain
• Breathe
• Rest
• Be
• Dwell
• Stay
• Be Silent

Immerse yourself 
in something greater than yourself.

Inhabit each space a little longer.  

Be there with real presence.

Create a "sacro speco"for yourself

and then enjoy that SACRED SPACE.

Thank you for taking time 

to care for yourself and others.

Mashed Potatoes

I'm terribly behind on my blog, or am I?  When one is doing something just for writing practice or for fun, or just because you want to, is it possible to get behind?  Some of my friends seem to think so.  Repeatedly friends have been asking me, "are you returning?"  "Where have you gone?  they asked.  "Are  you stewing about a proper subject matter on which to expound?" one of them asked.   "Oh, just write about mashed potatoes for about five minutes," someone suggested.   I shared that with someone who was on a weekend retreat here at St. Scholastica last weekend.  She happened to be a pun-er  and her response was, "Oh you should be able to whip that out in no time."

So mashed potatoes it is!  Actually mashed potatoes is a very vivid memory from childhood.  Sunday dinner:  Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and homemade ice-cream!  Mountains of mashed potatoes we seemed to have even when times were tough.  But I must go back yet further to the origin of their birth out in the field, at the edge of the deep woods.

The planting came first.  Earth freshly plowed, I walked along the rows dropping pieces of potatoes.  My young friend, Opal, had explained to me, "You must leave an eye on every piece of potato you plant.  It can't see how to grow without its eye."   Made sense to me!  But that was when I was still young and uncomplicated--not so very grown up and perhaps closer to the source of wisdom.  I would help cover the freshly planted potatoes -- earth all patted down over the pieces of potatoes I would dream of what they were seeing down there in the dark.

In the book, The Singing Creek where the Willows Grow,  the precocious child, Opal Whiteley, waxes eloquently about harvesting potatoes.  Quoting Opal, she says:

"When the potatoes were in piles, I did stop to take looks at them.  I walked up close; I looked them all over.  I walked off and took a long look at them.  Potatoes are very interesting folks.  I think they must see a lot of what is going on in the earth--they have so many eyes.  And after I did look those long looks as I did go along I did count the eyes that every potato did have and their numbers were in blessings."

After planting the potatoes the waiting began.  I forgot about them for awhile...when harvest time came we would plow them up and put them in piles according to sizes.    Although I didn't get quite as dramatic as Opal while digging for potatoes I, too, remember having conversations with them and sometimes I named them.

 Eventually they made it to the cellar. I was sent to the cellar when it was time to make mashed potatoes.  Carefully I chose the potatoes, washed, peeled and cooked them with a little seasoning.  And then the mashing began.  I used one those old fashioned smashers since we didn't own an electric  mixer back in those days.   Sometimes (if no one was looking) I would more or less attack the potatoes kind of like Sam did in the movie Bennie and Joon.  (In this movie Sam was a very young version of Johnny Depp)  This took the edge off the work and made it rather enjoyable.

The end of this story is a very good memory of our family sitting around the old wooden table having dinner, the mashed potatoes with a little dill sprinkled on the top was a very important part of the menu.

So many memories came to me as I reflected on mashed potatoes.  Those were good times and hard times and I still believe that working together to put a meal on the table is more fun than going to a restaurant; but that is only when everyone works together.

And what about you?  

What do you remember about mashed potatoes?

God in an Apron

Try to imagine this scene.  You are  sitting at the table with Jesus and his friends on the night before he died.  A confusing sorrow overshadows you; yet, a mysterious hope has settled in your heart.  Suddenly, Jesus is standing in front of you.  He looks into your eyes and immediately you are filled with an awareness of your tremendous worth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supper was special that night

There was both a heaviness and a holiness

hanging in the air

We couldn't explain the mood

It was sacred, yet sorrowful.

Gathered around that table

eating that solemn, holy meal

seemed to us the most important meal

we had ever sat down to eat.

We were dwelling in the heart of mystery

though dark the night

Hope felt right

as if something evil

was about to be conquered.

And then suddenly

the One we loved startled us all

He got up from the table

and put on an apron.

Can you imagine how we felt?

God in an apron!

Tenderness encircled us

as he bowed before us.

He knelt and said,

"I choose to wash your feet

because I love you."

God in an apron, kneeling

I couldn't believe my eyes.

I was embarrassed

until his eyes met mine

I sensed my value then.

He touched my feet

He held them in his strong brown hands

He washed them.

I can still feel the water

I can still feel the touch of his hands.

I can still see the look in his eyes.

Then he handed me the towel and said,

"As I have done so you must do."

Learn to bow ~~ Learn to kneel.

Let your tenderness encircle

everyone you meet

Wash their feet

not because you have  to,

because you want to.

It seems I've stood two thousand years

holding the towel in my hands,

"As I have done so you must do,"

keeps echoing in my heart.

"There are so many feet to wash,"

I keep saying

"No," I hear God's voice

resounding through the years

"There are only my feet

What you do for them

you do for me."

by Macrina Wiederkehr

taken from Seasons of Your Heart

I Anoint You With Joy

We have been explicitly asked to perform our Lenten observances with  joy and so I would like to introduce you to Stella with hopes that you will be anointed by that joyful look on her face.  Stella lives at Crystal Bridges in Arkansas http://www.crystalbridges.org/ and can be found outside the museum on the art path.  I trust you will make plans to visit her soon.   I'm very much aware that she doesn't look as though she has been fasting during Lent.  Actually she portrays the metaphor of abundance, and that is what I wish for you during this holy season.  About mid-way through Lent I always find myself longing for a double portion of discipline to enhance my original desire to deepen my spiritual life...and so I would like to anoint you with spiritual gifts for our continued journey through this holy season.

I anoint you with an abundance of joy, faith and love.  I anoint you with courage, vision and hope.   I anoint you with compassion, trust and gentleness.

I anoint you with rocks and stones, blossoms of growth, sunsets and sunrises, the air and the wind, rivers and mountains, the morning, the evening and all of the hours of the day.  I anoint you with creation and of course with the Creator and the Spirit of Jesus.  I anoint you with Christ.  

Mt. Nebo Arkansas

 

Mt Harbor Resort Arkansas 

Port Phillips Bay near Melbourne Australia

I ANOINT YOU WITH LIFE!

Continue your Lenten Exercises

with an abundance of joy.