How Can I Keep from Singing?

Good morning! What a fabulously, awesomely beautiful day. You think I'm kidding? Yes, it's -5. But the air is still, the sun shows, and only a few minutes ago I could still see the full moon out this window. Icicles coat the sides of my house and the one next door. Not good, I know. But, beautiful. So much in life is this paradox of incredible beauty, great danger, potential for good or evil or something in between.

Perhaps because I am feeling nourished, loved, grateful, I'm particularly conscious of the gift of being alive today. My little dog is shaking the h--- out of her toy lamb, the cats are fed and asleep, the house is warm and my Social Security check arrived yet again. I am graced with about as diverse a group of loved ones as you can imagine, have friendships old and young with persons old and young and in between. How can I keep from singing?

Thanks for stopping by. Breathe, but not too deeply out in the cold. :)

Look in the Mirror

How many times a day do you see your reflection? No matter how often you look, though, you never see yourself as fully as others see you. How shocked we often are when we first see ourselves on video or hear our taped voices! Can that really be me? Who is that wonderful or wretched creature, anyway?

Yet we do look in the mirror. And we see: eyes (do my brows need trimming?); nose (is it clean and "hair free"?); skin (look at those dark shadows under my eyes!); hair (oh, why won't it do anything today?); mouth (no toothpaste spillage; no spinach on my teeth); ears (are they clean?)and on and on we check off "parts".

I invite you each day when you've finished all that primping to take a moment and smile into the eyes of that person in the mirror. Maybe say something nice, like "I like you" or "Have a good day". It's almost embarrassing the first time you look deep into your own eyes. But it can be very healing, tender, loving, hopeful, too. No what ifs, no comparisons, no anguish about aging; just love for your self in all its complexity and beauty. And some days you may want to give your self a little poke or jolt or lecture. That's love, too.

Here's a wonderful Derek Wolcott poem which my friend, Trudy, reminded me of on her blog the other day.

LOVE AFTER LOVE

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another; who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.


May you love, laugh, listen, look, truly see, breathe and stay warm!

Noah's Pudding

Tomorrow morning at our church some Turkish friends will come to the worship and then share Noah's Pudding with us afterward. Here is how my friend, Nimet, describes this tradition:

The first month of the Islamic calendar, though it changes every year, starts at the end of December this year and ends at the end of January. During this month, we make a special pudding from different beans, spices and fruits, as we believe Prophet Noah and his believers made it to survive when they were rescued from the big flood. They made and ate this pudding as a symbol of God's blessing on them. This tradition has been carried on for centuries in Turkey. People make the pudding in very large pots and they distribute it in their neighborhoods to show their love, care and friendship for their neighbors. As the Turkish community here, we have been trying to keep the same tradition here every year. We make the pudding and distribute it among our neighbors and neighborhood churches as a way to start new friendships, conversations to understand one another and to share this wonderful tradition with the people here in Lansing....We will bring the pudding in individual serving bowls, covered, and labeled with the ingredients so people will know what is in it..

Are you surprised that Muslims know about Noah and the Ark? Are you aware that Muslims believe that Abraham is the "father" of Islam, as well as Judaism and, by extension, Christianity? Since my readers are pretty astute folks, I think, maybe you do know this. But it's surprising to me to find how few people know much about this major religion in the world and how many seem to think Islam is only a religion of hatred and violence. Of course there are those who are and who use the name of Mohammed to justify their acts. But there are many variables in Islam, just as there are in Christianity or any religion. I am proud that tomorrow, especially given what is happening in Gaza, a few well-meaning Muslim Turks are going to share their "pudding" with a few well-meaning American Episcopalians. May it be a small, but not insignificant, step toward peace and understanding.

What a difference a day makes

Do you remember that old love song? Yesterday I could only see and feel "gray". Today the colors are all there, intense and gratifying. An especially dear friend and I were ruminating about how suddenly everything in our lives can change: one phone call, one incident, one conversation. And now, nothing will ever be the same again.

When I was a chaplain, the hardest thing of all was being present when someone received news that would forever wound them--I'm sorry, but your baby didn't make it; I'm sorry, but there is nothing more we can do; I'm sorry, but you need to let her go; I'm sorry, but something totally unforeseen happened during surgery. In some instances I was that messenger, hating, to the point of a gut ache, to say those words that could never be taken back.

Twice this morning I read pieces by excellent writers about how hard winter is and how we're already exhausted. One is a close friend. The other, Timothy Egan, writes for the NYTimes. (He was writing from Port Angeles, WA, a beautiful little town on the Olympic Peninsula, just across the water from Victoria, BC. I long to return to that incredibly beautiful area.) Anyway, getting back to my point, I agreed wholeheartedly with each writer. And yet--when Tessa and I walked this morning in the sunshine, trekking through another layer of fresh snow, dazzling in its sparkling beauty, I was enchanted. What a difference a day makes!

We all struggle with the fear in the air, the hope in our hearts, the possibilities that confront us. It's all real; some of it is scary; it's mostly beyond our ability to control-- just like death.
And so we live on, some of us trusting, as best we can, in One who loves us; some of us finding our peace and courage from less "mystical" sources.

Emily Dickinson said, "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."

So live! And please come visit again.