My Journal Entry Today

I am trying to get used to the idea that I may one day be living in a monarchy. What does one do? I am 74 years old. My world is getting smaller each day. That is, my world of influence.

What does one do when children are suffering? Would hopping on a plane and going to the boxes that hold them, banging on the doors, parking on the concrete and crying “help” do anything?

Would such a gesture mean anything in a monarchy? I don’t know. So far I have not had to live in one. I didn’t think so, anyway.

I have studied history. I have studied religion and philosophy. Some of my most profound teachers have lived under monarchical systems who prayed and wrote and served the poor. Some who lived in democratic sytems did the same. Some were activists, known by many or by a few. But all lived their lives authentically, no matter the context in which they lived. They were free, even in shackles or behind bars.

God’s ways are so far above mine that I am breathless. I have to stop in my track to rest. I look. I listen…what is to be my response? I pray for these who act, even if their actions seem to lead nowhere. They inspire me. They deepen my belief in a God Who may not really care about systems, but about loving. Just loving.

I don’t know. I care, I love my neighbor in my little corner of the world. This I can do.

A Poem

There are the all’s well days
And the days when all is not
There are the sky’s the limit days
And the days when I can’t see beyond my own eyelids
There are the take a deep sweet breath days
And the days when my door is shut
There are the open to love days 
And the days when love an illusive dream

Spring Has Come to Minnesota

Spring has finally descended upon Minnesota. I think it just may be here to stay.

For two days now I have been able to walk the driveway without my boots on.

Bernie and I have eaten two suppers in our screened porch.

Twice I did my daily stretching and quiet time took on the deck with my face to the sun.

The snowy spots will likely be gone by the end of the day and the next moisture coming from the sky will be rain.

Thunder, please, Mother. It wakes up the green.

 

Butterflies in my Stomach

I hate those times when I am unable to write.

This is true right now in my blog world
as well as in that other world where I create stories.

I think that right now it is because I feel so much in limbo,
in a space where events swirl around me
and I can’t make heads or tails out of them.

So many unknowns.

Based on the book I just finished reading for my spirituality book club,
I am falling into grace.

This is a pretty good place to be.
To take each moment as it is when I am in it,
without judgment,
without attaching all sorts of stories and explanations.
That is a sign of a really evolved person.

Alas, not much fun, though.

This is a pendulum swing.
I know that from experience.

Butterflies in my stomach.

MIRACLES

Miracles happen in miniscule increments of time and space.

Like a tire rolling across the pavement, we measure by miles

but truth says that

Each 1 degree turn of the wheel is a move forward.

We don’t give this miracle word

We prefer to have miracles served in miles.

We want see a change in the scenery.

Once in a while, a tire hits black ice and skids us forward

Like a sled blades on an icy slope

Those miracles are worth shouting about.

The others, well, they don’t deserve a thought.

The Eyes of The Heart

Jesus told me to not be afraid.
And he told me to live in peace.
How hard this is to hang onto as the world is full of fear,
rightfully so, and violence.
But Jesus also told me that the kingdom he knows is not the kingdom of this world
and asked me to open my eyes and see this other kingdom.
It is here, now, he said, it is not just in the future
but it is now and lasts forever.
Just open your eyes.
Just open your eyes.
Oh, my – it is dark.

See with the eyes of your heart, he says.

Who Knows One?

Yesterday, I shared a poem that actually came to me in prayer as I stood outside with the cornfield on my left, as high as an elephant’s eye, and a tree on my right that has been on this property long before we came here, perhaps since before I was born.

As I indicated, I was inspired by a book about kabbalah, the mystic stream of Judaism. It is an amazing book and I am awed once again by the Oneness of God. I believe that all who search with a sincere heart will find the door to God and when they open it, they will discover the same God that all other sincere searchers seek.

When I picked up this book, I picked up two others, one on Jewish festivals (I was hoping weddings would be included) and one a Passover Haggadah. The Haggadah is the story or script that goes along with the food when a family comes together for the Passover seder (meal). I was delighted when I opened the Haggadah book and realized that the way my family celebrates the seder is pretty accurate. I must have done some pretty good research when I wrote ours 35 years ago. But in this book, there were some really cool children’s songs which, according to the footnotes were sung during the seder to keep the children interested in what is a pretty long, adultish type ritual.

Two that are really fun (I wish I had music to these) are “Who Knows One” and “The One Kid”. The former is a repetition song like the 12 days of Christmas or Old MacDonald. Children love these songs and they are great to help them put to memory ideas you want them to remember. Here is a sampling of the first:

One – who knows one?
One – I know one.
           One is our God, who is in the heaven and on earth.

Two – who knows two?
     Two – I know two.
          Two  are the tablets of the Covenant,
           One is our God, who is in heaven and on earth.

Three – who knows three?
      Three – I know three.
          Three are the Fathers,
          Two are the tablets of the Covenant,
          One is our God, who is in heaven and on earth, etc.

Having worked in Early Childhood for years, it is easy for  me to imagine actions to go along with this song.

The second song reminds me of songs I taught my children – “Hush Little Baby”,  “There’s a hole in the bucket” and “There was an old lady who swallowed a fly”. Here are the words:

The one kid, the one kid, that daddy bought for two zuzim, the one kid.
And the cat came and ate the kid, that daddy bought for two zuzim, the one kid, the one kid.
And the dog came and bit the cat, that the kid, etc.
And the stick came and beat the dog, that bit the cat, etc.
And the fire came and burned the stick, that beat the dog, etc.
And the water came and put out the fire, that burned the stick, etc.
And the ox came and drank up the water that put out the fire. etc.
And the butcher came, and butchered the ox, that drank up the water, etc.
And the Angel of Death came and slaughtered the butcher, who butchered the ox, etc.
And the Holy One, blessed be he, came and slaughtered the Angel of death, who slaughtered the butcher, who butchered the ox, who drank up the water, that put out the fire, that burned the stick, that beat the dog, that bit the cat, that ate the kid, that daddy bought for two zuzim, the kind and one kid. 

Footnote says of the first that it was probably composed in the 15th or 16th century. The second was originally written in poor Aramaic no earlier than the 15th century. One explanation for its meaning: “Israel is the kid which God bought for two zuzuim, which are the two tablets of the Covenant. Subsequently, Israel fell prey to the first of a series of empires, each of which destroyed its predecessor in turn. The cat is Assyria, the dog Babylonia, the stick  Persia, the fire macedonia, the water Rome, the ox the Saracens, the slaughterer the crusaders, and the Angel of death the Turks.” The song is a history lesson.

So who will give the  meaning of our songs…Henry’s bucket, the Little Old Lady’s Spider and the Hushed Little Baby? Someone else’s research.