PEELING BACK THE LAYERS
I like onions. Thanks to my wonderful latino son-in-law I have also discovered the wonders of leeks. Venezuelans love flavorful foods. Hidden in many of their specialty dishes are a variety of pureed veggies which greatly enhance the robust explosion of tastiness. Dicing/slicing vegetables welcomes a 'Zen-like' warm hummmm in my bones - which my dear daughter is quite puzzled about. She has decided to capitalize on this as we have been hangin' out together for weeks. On a regular basis she will say, "Hey Mom, how about making me a yummy salad?". Of course I gladly oblige! A wedge of red onion, a thinly sliced leek, a lengthwise section of tender green onion, red cabbage, orange sweet peper - all beautifully revealing layer upon layer of nutrient-rich goodness. Voila' - salad extraordinare. This past week the layers of our life, the layers of our 'mind-works' have been front and center for most of us. The tragedy at the Sandy Hook School in Connecticut continues to unfold and with it, a great many online posts about mental illness. It is so very tempting to just shove all the news of this atrosity under the rug and forget that it happened. But we must not. Finding the middle ground on needful awareness and unhealthy fixation is a decision individually that we must make. God-talk and prayer are heard from the lips of many. In the midst of questions, God's presence is the salve that nurtures our spirits.
This past Sunday it was my delight to visit yet another new church. This has been a very enriching part of my yearly sojourn across the U.S. I have been to a variety of worship centers - some mega-churches, some micro-churches, some rock-the-rafters-type churches and some quietly cadence-oriented churches. Reading online reviews of churches before attending can always be an insightful moment. Most people (I believe) come to a particular church with expectations for what 'they need' for their worship to be meaningful. "I get that." - it's important to feel your spirit challenged, and to give God heartfelt thanks and praise. Worship, however, I understand to be - 'the work of the people'. In all the churches I have worhipped, I have been able to shut my eyes and reach out to God within my thoughts, prayers, and thankfulness - some places more easily than others.
As one may expect, Sunday was a day where pastors across the world addressed the tragic losses of Newtown. Together we are examining the eternal 'whys' of this monstrously sad event. I have found myself thinking often of the mental health part of questioning. For me, mental challenges are highly personal. I have read a great deal on the subject. My past struggles with panic and anxiety have led me there. I am one of the lucky (or blessed) ones. A new life was born in me 20 years ago, thanks to the gift of a pharmaceutical compound found in a miniscule pink pill that regulates my brain chemistry imbalance. Millions of people are not so fortunate - for as many reasons as one can conjure up. This past week I viewed the movie, "Silver Linings" - a story of the impact mental illness had on two families. It was an extremely insightful movie. When I look back on this week, I have so many feelings - profound gratitude for the help I have received and the life I now have, free of my past mental bondage.. Conversely, I have profound sadness for those who still live within the grip of this bondage - many who do not even realize the cages of their life. The pastor I listened to this past Sunday reminded us of this scripture verse - "Whatsoever is pure, whatsoever is lovely - think on these things." I have been attempting this all week - with 'some' success.
Thinking about 'lovely things' brings to mind the pleasure that was mine this week when I visited the J. Paul Getty Art Museum in north LosAngeles. It was a sunny but brisk day, as California weather goes. I really had no expectations of my adventure as I drove up 'the 405' mid-morning. I listened to the beautiful Christmas carols of the season on the car radio as I crept along in the famous LA traffic I'd often heard about. As art museums go, I would rate 'The Getty' in the - 'Creme-de-la-Creme' category. Not only does it have a great variety of art, but the building architecture and garden architecture are nothing less than stunning, as it sits impressively on a hilltop overlooking LA, with a view of the ocean in the distance. It was built in 1997 and is a contemporary, white stone geometric marvel to behold. The 3 hours I spent there were hardly enough. A highlight of my day were the illuminated 14th and 15th century biblical manuscripts in Latin. Couple this with the special presentation of Renissance Devotional Art that was currently on display, I was greatly enlightened in my spirit. It was a God-moment I will cherish when I look back on my pilgrimage journey in years to come!
When the rush of this weeks' Christmas celebrations, worship experiences and foodie festivities is past, I hope you, my blog readers, find some private moments to peel through the layers of your life and find the life-lessons and life-missions that bring new meaning to you.
As a new year approaches, together, I pray that we all can journey into our unknown futures with hope - still - for peace and healing in our world and for the souls who walk upon it.
Intothewind with Naturegirl
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
FARMHOUSE PORCH TALKS
The late 1950's had it's moments of magic. My world as an grade-schooler living a farm-kid life in Iowa was about the size of a postage stamp when placed alongside my present life as a coast-to-coast traveler. I am not sure if the magic superceded the melancholy or not in those distant days. Life was hard - filled with labor-intensive chores, and few extras to bring on a sky-high moment. Ours was a household of verbal barage - more than I care to remember. Conversations today with 'old-timers' will often elicit a dream-like comment such as, "Those were the good ol' days!" In many ways they were. Media influence was far less prevalent; family dinners around the table a staple of everyday life back then. If, however, abuse and degrading words were the hidden secrets of families, the days of old were far from good. Intermingled with those realities of my youth are also enough funny moments and average evening-togetherness to suffice for a smile now and then when remembering those youthful days.
The 8 ft wide wooden porch steps were splintered and weathered, mostly like the rest of the big square white country house I called home. No fine chairs sat on this porch. There were a few small floor-board holes a kid could peer through to scout out the cat that was hiding there, or a mouse or two. Plenty of make-believe happened on this porch through the years. Occasional props included a wobbly doll buggy, or a tea party setup on a big cardboard box hauled up from the dank musty basement. A few important conversations about the important things of life took place on these steps - like, 'Do you think Suzy hates me?' or... 'Will I get picked first or last when we play "Red Rover, Red Rover, why don't you come over" at school tomorrow?' This porch is where I'd often come to sit when life was boring. This is where my 'wondering' began, and where I first thought about the meaning of my life on earth and what happened after my heart would stop one day. Kids DO think about these things. And - big kids (adults) think about it too. I remember feeling scared quite a lot. The flavor of spirituality I grew up with dished out plenty of fear with a small pill of 'love' stuck in there somewhere. My cousin Don, who lived a stone's throw away on the other side of the road, was often my 'fellow wonderer' about these things. It's funny - the things one remembers from their youth. Even as I contemplate life in my 6th decade, I still remember the day Don and I sat on those front porch steps and asked each other, "Just what is the center of our being here in this world. What is beyond this world?" And, I now have some answers, but still, questions linger.
My God-focus, through christianity, Jesus and the Spirit have been nurtured through the years and my faith still moves - two steps forward, one step back. Books have been escapes for me, as well as stepping stones in my life and faith journey. As a preteen I escaped into the mystery world of Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden, as their stories transfixed me on those front porch steps for hours. This past week, a book at the local bookstore jumped out at me. I bought it - then devoured it. Proof of Heaven is a book written just a few years ago by a neurosurgeon about his near-death experience as the result of bacterial meningitis. I am by nature, an open-minded questioner. This read was a soul-fascinating cluster of chapters. Eben, the highly intelligent, brain scientist (author) finds his life transformed, his mission changed, after his week-long coma. Today's science-oriented doubters will be challenged in their God/Heaven beliefs after reading this book. Happy am I, to have been found by it! Confidence and comfort was mine as I closed the cover of this book.
Porches as a housing feature tend to be found in regional clusters. When I was rolling down the roads of the Carolinas on the East coast last month, I was intrigued by the number of houses that sported a very large veranda/front porch. When I contemplate the lifestyle and culture of these southerns, it is no surprise to me. Passing time on the front porch with the neighbors or family with big glass of lemonade seems to be a staple of everyday living down south. Now, as I travel the streets of Orange County, California, seldom do I see a front porch. Go figure - no surprise here. I confess that I have never watched the TV program, "Housewives of Orange County", but I'm told their lifestyle has little to do with passing time on a front porch! I personally would advocate for more porches in this world!
Speaking of rolling down the road - i was delighted to answer my 'cell' this past week when a South Carolina # showed on my ID. My insurance adjuster had good news for me. My RV is going to be repaired! Resurrection time! I've got a smile plastered on my face! Come January I should be reunited with 'Pedro' and on the road again in this pilgrimage journey of mine. How appropriate that this is the season of Advent - a time of waiting. I have been waiting to hear the good news for 5 weeks now. My 'Pedro' is being (re)born! Hallelujah!
I suspect that my Minnesota friends will not be sitting on their front porches for a chit-chat in the next few months. News of a midwest snowstorm has blinked on my computer screen. My hope is that a rocking chair or two will be drawn up by a big cracklin' fireplace in the coming weeks of family Christmas celebrations. I bid you - share your deep thoughts - share your joy - share your hopes for a spirit of peace in this world of ours.
From my rocking chair to yours -comfort and peace to you!
Intothewind,
Naturegirl
The late 1950's had it's moments of magic. My world as an grade-schooler living a farm-kid life in Iowa was about the size of a postage stamp when placed alongside my present life as a coast-to-coast traveler. I am not sure if the magic superceded the melancholy or not in those distant days. Life was hard - filled with labor-intensive chores, and few extras to bring on a sky-high moment. Ours was a household of verbal barage - more than I care to remember. Conversations today with 'old-timers' will often elicit a dream-like comment such as, "Those were the good ol' days!" In many ways they were. Media influence was far less prevalent; family dinners around the table a staple of everyday life back then. If, however, abuse and degrading words were the hidden secrets of families, the days of old were far from good. Intermingled with those realities of my youth are also enough funny moments and average evening-togetherness to suffice for a smile now and then when remembering those youthful days.
The 8 ft wide wooden porch steps were splintered and weathered, mostly like the rest of the big square white country house I called home. No fine chairs sat on this porch. There were a few small floor-board holes a kid could peer through to scout out the cat that was hiding there, or a mouse or two. Plenty of make-believe happened on this porch through the years. Occasional props included a wobbly doll buggy, or a tea party setup on a big cardboard box hauled up from the dank musty basement. A few important conversations about the important things of life took place on these steps - like, 'Do you think Suzy hates me?' or... 'Will I get picked first or last when we play "Red Rover, Red Rover, why don't you come over" at school tomorrow?' This porch is where I'd often come to sit when life was boring. This is where my 'wondering' began, and where I first thought about the meaning of my life on earth and what happened after my heart would stop one day. Kids DO think about these things. And - big kids (adults) think about it too. I remember feeling scared quite a lot. The flavor of spirituality I grew up with dished out plenty of fear with a small pill of 'love' stuck in there somewhere. My cousin Don, who lived a stone's throw away on the other side of the road, was often my 'fellow wonderer' about these things. It's funny - the things one remembers from their youth. Even as I contemplate life in my 6th decade, I still remember the day Don and I sat on those front porch steps and asked each other, "Just what is the center of our being here in this world. What is beyond this world?" And, I now have some answers, but still, questions linger.
My God-focus, through christianity, Jesus and the Spirit have been nurtured through the years and my faith still moves - two steps forward, one step back. Books have been escapes for me, as well as stepping stones in my life and faith journey. As a preteen I escaped into the mystery world of Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden, as their stories transfixed me on those front porch steps for hours. This past week, a book at the local bookstore jumped out at me. I bought it - then devoured it. Proof of Heaven is a book written just a few years ago by a neurosurgeon about his near-death experience as the result of bacterial meningitis. I am by nature, an open-minded questioner. This read was a soul-fascinating cluster of chapters. Eben, the highly intelligent, brain scientist (author) finds his life transformed, his mission changed, after his week-long coma. Today's science-oriented doubters will be challenged in their God/Heaven beliefs after reading this book. Happy am I, to have been found by it! Confidence and comfort was mine as I closed the cover of this book.
Porches as a housing feature tend to be found in regional clusters. When I was rolling down the roads of the Carolinas on the East coast last month, I was intrigued by the number of houses that sported a very large veranda/front porch. When I contemplate the lifestyle and culture of these southerns, it is no surprise to me. Passing time on the front porch with the neighbors or family with big glass of lemonade seems to be a staple of everyday living down south. Now, as I travel the streets of Orange County, California, seldom do I see a front porch. Go figure - no surprise here. I confess that I have never watched the TV program, "Housewives of Orange County", but I'm told their lifestyle has little to do with passing time on a front porch! I personally would advocate for more porches in this world!
Speaking of rolling down the road - i was delighted to answer my 'cell' this past week when a South Carolina # showed on my ID. My insurance adjuster had good news for me. My RV is going to be repaired! Resurrection time! I've got a smile plastered on my face! Come January I should be reunited with 'Pedro' and on the road again in this pilgrimage journey of mine. How appropriate that this is the season of Advent - a time of waiting. I have been waiting to hear the good news for 5 weeks now. My 'Pedro' is being (re)born! Hallelujah!
I suspect that my Minnesota friends will not be sitting on their front porches for a chit-chat in the next few months. News of a midwest snowstorm has blinked on my computer screen. My hope is that a rocking chair or two will be drawn up by a big cracklin' fireplace in the coming weeks of family Christmas celebrations. I bid you - share your deep thoughts - share your joy - share your hopes for a spirit of peace in this world of ours.
From my rocking chair to yours -comfort and peace to you!
Intothewind,
Naturegirl
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