Category: Gratitude

Where Sanity Resides

People sometimes question my sanity for living remotely. “Aren’t you bored?”, they ask. Boredom. That was something I gave up long ago. The spin that the fear of boredom can send us on is deplorable. I’m beginning to believe boredom is where insanity begins. It’s that slippery slope of insatiable and unfulfilled desire. It’s a call to normalcy that’s anything but normal. When we declare boredom, we relinquish our power of choice. And the dance of effort that is required to end boredom robs us of deeper awareness.

I prefer to live in wonder. I prefer exuberance. I prefer to live in defiance of a world that tells me more about boredom than about ecstasy.

I prefer to live where sanity resides. And yes, that doesn’t mean I must live in the middle of nowhere, but nowhere called me and this is where I chose to make my stand.

And my stand is for peace, within myself and around me. 

So where does sanity reside? Clearly, it’s not found on the social media shuffle. You won’t find it on any newsstand, television commentary or zine. Although John Stewart is back on the Daily Show and his few minutes offers the closest bit of sanity – for those unafraid of his absolute version of sacrilege. But no, that is feigned sanity. And while the laughs help cover the sadness of a world gone mad, they also lend themselves to cynicism. And cynicism is one step removed from boredom and not a place I choose to linger.

Sanity resides in the heart. It’s the groundswell of knowing that all is and will be well. Its kin to clarity and has no words. And in the land of no words lies our peace.  

A Thanksgiving Prayer

As many bow their heads in gratitude for all the good that has been given perhaps we can add a prayer that our thankfulness may generate seeds of kindness. As we count our blessings, let us also ask for the courage and strength to become caretakers of the earth and all of her people.

Let us allow our piety to become compassion and ask that our love give way to empathy.

Let us recognize our interconnectedness and put an end to the transgression of separation.

We do this because we can. We can throw off the cloak of our lessor selves, the part that fears the other because we do not know who we are. The self that harbors seeds of hatred  – sometimes planted before we were even born – can be shed. We do not have to be a slave to lessor ideals and beliefs. We can choose to be free of ignorance.

We can choose to know.

We are beings of love. Underneath the facades and the masks we wear, we share the same longings and the same needs. We all need good food, clean water and air. We need to feel safe as we walk through life in our own unique and diverse ways. We need peace.

And so as we bow our heads, let us pray for the innocents throughout the world who are being slaughtered by hatred that is fueled by power and greed. Let us recognize that we as a country have been complicit in creating war machines, funding governments and escalating violence rather than seeking peaceful resolution. Let us ask forgiveness for our ignorance and if and when possible, let us take a stand to change course. 

Demand a permanent ceasefire now from both sides in Gaza.   

Cycles Come and Go

And just like that everything is green again. Despite the chilly nights Spring has arrived. Birds are back and gracing us with song. Rhubarb and asparagus are abundant, and spruce tips will become a favored drink. Nettles are welcomed here and we cook them with our morning eggs. Later they’ll be dried for tea. The ongoing battle to keep free-ranging chickens out of the garden is only topped by the numerous groundhog holes that are popping up.

So it goes. Life has its cycles. And we have our choices. Putting up fencing or getting some groundhog recipes are high on the list of choices right now. Neither of which we’ll do.

There are practical skills learned by living with the land. At some point you must decide which battles are worthy of your time and which are not.

I think everyone should take at least a one-year stint of living on a farm and attempting to be sustainable. If you’re fortunate you’ll learn about what is precious, and if you’re really paying attention you may even remember what is sacred.

The notion of progress has defined us as “modern people”. The irrational pursuit of wealth has crippled our ability to care for one another. The simplest joys elude us as we join the rat race and leave the human race behind.

It doesn’t have to be that way. In our heart of hearts, we know it doesn’t have to be that way. But we’ve been conditioned to follow the leader to the exclusion of what we know is possible. It’s time for that to change.

Cycles come and cycles go. If we would allow the longing for simplicity and the need for peace to lead once more, this cycle of darkness would end.  

We Are All Blessed

If you are celebrating a day of gratitude with family or friends with eyes wide open to the violent history of the United States and that awareness is bringing you to some form of compassionate activism, this is not for you.

If you are aware the riches of our society come from the history of stolen lands, slavery, poor laborers and extreme extraction of natural resources, this is not for you.

If you have come to understand that we live in a society that continues to propagate and champion violence in the name of peace and are readying your self to transform it, this is not for you.

For you, may Peace, Love, Joy and Clarity stay alive in your heart.

Today is Thanksgiving. Apparently someone thought we needed to mandate a day for gratitude. Expressing gratitude has been a fundamental human trait throughout time. Many Indigenous people offer gratitude as a daily practice and in truth many of us do, too. But somehow our culture has found a need to celebrate Thanksgiving as a day of opulence and telling antiquated lies about pilgrims. And of course it’s followed by a day of hedonistic consumerism, which demonstrates the lessor god we choose to honor.

If you ever wonder why people consider atheism, look no further than our hypocritical version of piety. Recently, someone reflecting on his families’ good fortune told me they are blessed. After bristling at the implied notion that wealth is a blessing and the poor are blessed-less, I responded, “We are all blessed, some of us simply don’t know it.”

There is a lot we don’t know, but we are great pretenders. 

I know this may seem very uncharacteristic of my writing. But what is not uncharacteristic is my need to confront ignorance head on. 

So when this great Christian nation bows their collective heads I hope they ask for forgiveness for all the hate and violence they have allowed and continue to allow. I hope they pray for strength to become accountable for the beliefs that continue to make “others” targets of derision. Because we all know children are not born with hate or division. They are taught, either by word or by example.

The white crowds that gathered for lynching and murdering of Blacks often did so in a celebratory manner.  And when someone at your feast cracks a joke about gays or flat out lies, please remind them of the terror that was brought upon human beings in Colorado Springs. 

We are ALL blessed; some just don’t know it.

Harvest

Harvest is one of the most joyful times of the year. Yes, it’s taken a bit of work to get here but if the garden was well planned and Nature cooperated even a little there are delicacies to be had. Today’s walk through the squash was very exciting. The biggest Blue Hubbard’s I’ve ever seen and bright red curry are starting to reveal themselves through receding greenery.

Our heirloom orchard is having a grand year. From slugs and bees to deer and human, everyone is taking a bite of the sweetness of the season. With each day, as another tree’s apples are ready to be picked, another has all but lost its fruit. That is the sad tale of harvest. The trees are like friends. You get to know the order in which they will ripen, you know the years they will rest and you wait eagerly for their return.

One doesn’t need a large garden or an orchard to appreciate harvest. A single tomato plant will do. There is some undeniable kinship we have with the earth and the sustenance that comes from her. And there is an undeniable fulfillment in co-creating with the soil and dancing with the seasons.

Gratitude and celebration come easily at this time. Even when the onion crop is a bit on the weak side, there are friends and neighbors whose onions did well and we can share, barter or buy. We were made for this simplicity however challenging.

The exuberance is not only in the gathering. If all goes well we’ll delight in the abundance of harvest throughout the winter months and it will ready us for spring. Pickles, kraut, apple butter, cider and jellies galore will dress the table. And this, my friend, is the cycle of thankfulness.

There is Enough

It took a huge effort to get the family of groundhogs eating and sleeping in our garden to leave, but we did it. And then of course we discovered the deer have been eating our corn. It’s always smart to plant enough for everyone I reckon. 

The days will be shortening and the winter’s wood supply is coming in bit by bit. I always feel a touch of relief at the Solstice, knowing that the reduction of light will shorten workdays as well. 

The apple harvest looks to be promising this year and I marvel at how human beings survived this dance on the Earth. I guess our ancestors did, as we must now do, be thoughtful, be creative, be frugal and above all be grateful.

Being thoughtful implies deliberate and careful consideration of the land, what it offers and how best to care for it. Being creative happens with the realization that we’re inextricably bound to the Earth in a realm of endless possibilities. 

If that’s confusing to you, stop by and watch the wizardry of my wife (welcome to Pride Month) as she gathers from the gardens and the wilds to create delicious life sustaining foods. And while some of that comes from being frugal, at its core it is an act of love and gratitude. It’s in recognition that the Earth can and does provide all that we need if we can take the time to remember what some have always known: There is enough. 

Another lovely awakening of this time is Juneteenth. Celebrating the beauty and the strength of those who survived the inhumanity of slavery are steps towards all of our healing. We have much to overcome, but we are one people finding our way on this precious Earth. Let’s get to it!

Make It Count

Today is my birthday and with it the recognition that I’m inching ever closer to the finish line. People want to celebrate birthdays and thoughts of the finality of life are not usually mentioned, but I’ve always been the sort to take life seriously. Not gloomily, but in full recognition of life’s finite nature. These sobering thoughts may lead one to a lifetime filled with choice and I am fond of the saying, “Choice not chance makes destiny.”  

Some people invest in the after life. I’m not one of those people. I love living and I’m quite content with heaven on earth, regardless of the hardships that may come. 

Some people invest in material gain; I’m not one of those either, as I have seen enough burials to know you don’t take it with you.

For me, I thrill at the possibility of filling my days with gratitude and I’ve found that with a bit of practice one can get very good at it. It’s the same with kindness. 

And when we refuse to drink of the cup of fear, it’s amazing what beauty and sweetness awaits.

I have lived long enough to know that I am unique but not special. Unique we all are, individually wrapped by the hand of the Creator. Our specialness is in that and it holds what we all share: the gift of life, and the opportunity to love and to be loved.

In the stillness of our hearts we know that we are loved. And that knowing is the sweetest birthday gift. 

When this magnificent ride comes to its end, I want to be able to say, “Thank you”. 

And if the chance should be offered to come again, I want to say, “Put me in coach.    I’m ready to play.” 

photo: Creative Commons

It is that Simple

As the gardens wane and cooler mornings greet us, the revolution of time presses on. The afternoon light is more vivid and it seems a shame to not sit a while and take it in. This time is made for memories. The hopefulness of spring and the vigor of summer can still be felt, but the coming of autumn holds the reckoning of all that has gone before.

It’s a time of remembrance. Memories of loved ones who have walked on and of those too distant to hold close. It’s a time to reminisce and count the Goodness that has played a part in shaping our becoming. Bringing in the harvest and celebrating abundance is a universally shared experience. And in doing so the spirit of community becomes its own blessing. We are preparing for winter and the longest, darkest nights and this cycle of life and of this season of closure is rich with the preciousness of being alive.

In the course of it, I’m overcome with gratitude and I realize once again that gratitude is the core of who I am, of who we are. And I wonder as I walk over the leaves that are starting to fall, “Is it really that simple?” That to know myself is to be grateful for my life and everything that touches it…and the answer wells up inside of me, “Yes. It is that simple.”

It has been well over three years now that WDRT Community Radio has allowed me to bring you my thoughts on the power of humanity and the choices we face to remain human. For that opportunity I am grateful. Community is alive and well here and it takes all of us to keep it flourishing. Thanks to all who keep it going.

Today is WDRT’s pledge drive. If you feel it, please give.

This piece was inspired in part by the passing of a great friend. May his memory bring peace to all who knew him.

Blessed Existence

Hardship has never escaped the human family. We are pummeled by Nature and by the ignorance that compounds suffering.

My Navajo friend told me how her grandmother fought to keep her baby alive during the forced Long Walk. Mothers who lost their own babies would give what little breast milk they had to the infant. That infant was my friend’s mother. I’ve often reflected on the courage, perseverance and kindness that enabled Annie, my friend, to exist. And how blessed was that existence with all of its hardships. 

I remember witnessing her in morning prayers. Though humble, she was not docile. She stood boldly in her life and welcomed all of the winds that blew her way. 

The story of shared breast milk was not new to me. My mother had been the recipient of wet nurses as they were called. My grandfather had been killed and my grandmother lost her ability to breastfeed. Poverty demands help. And help came in the form of neighbors. I’ve often reflected on the strength and the compassion that surrounded my mother’s existence. And how blessed was that existence with all of its hardships. She, too, had the gift of powerful prayer. 

I am the recipient of the Love of these two matriarchs. With that kind of Love mountains can move.

All of us have been blessed with existence and while our stories vary, hardships and blessings have come our way. Be nourished by them.

These are hard times. These are the times to dig for strength and to uncover our gifts, to seek and offer help. We have the potential to flourish, individually and collectively, despite the hardships.

Have the clarity to be guided by Love. Find the courage to hold onto it.

Regardless of hardship, it is a blessed existence.

The above photo is of Annie.

My Grandmother and me.
My mom and me.

Sweet Bounty

No need to work on being scared this Halloween. There’s no need to watch movies that will make your skin crawl. Just listen to the news. Doesn’t matter which “side” you’re on. There is hatred and violence brewing everywhere. Fear is in the air and it is more present than the elusive corona virus.

There is a belief that this time of year holds the thinning of the veil between life and death. When you live on the land that makes total sense. The emerald green of summer has long faded and the glorious leaves have gone brown. Soon the decomposition will begin and if you are lucky enough to live where the snow flies, a blanket of white will cover the earth. And as if by magic, when the brilliant white disappears, the early risers of spring will once again breath life into being.

This is what we know. We know this time of death is preparation for what is yet to be. We know there is always waxing and waning and this is the time to shelter and gather strength. Now is the moment to take stock of all that is good, all that has held us and all that will continue to throughout the months ahead.

This is not a time for fear and wasted energy. This is not a time to create havoc and spin tails of woe. This moment is for celebration and for effort, to separate the wheat from the chaff, and to preserve all that we will need to make it through.

This is a time of sharing; to gift one another the sweet bounty of our harvest and to offer good tidings and hope. 

This Hallows Eve we don’t need to be frightened. We need to be grateful and ready. 

Photo: sheep having the final gleaning of the garden.