spirituality – The Hermits' Rest

Feeling sentimental about childhood heroes

What’s one thing you own that holds deep sentimental value?

I think the appropriate answer to this question, today of all day, is to share my attachment to my favorite action figure, Jean-Luc Picard. Today he’s sitting on a hastily constructed altar to honor Sir Patrick Stewart, the actor who played him.

The pansy is attacking his head, and I can’t find a lighter, but I’m trying to honor someone I admire.

I’ve had this Jean-Luc for many years. He’s kind of been like my elf on the shelf in that he’s always getting into shenanigans. He’s climbed many Christmas trees, hidden in Thanksgiving centerpieces, and most famously, served as the “God” on our monthly tarot group altars way back when we lived in our first Texas house (a decade or more ago). The Goddess figures were usually more serious figurines or such, and he always brought a note of levity.

Sometimes he went to work with me and served to intimidate certain colleagues (in my mind, anyway). Until today, he was guarding a big hunk of crystal on the mantel, awaiting his next mission.

I’m sure he’s hiding somewhere in this photo.

Picard is my favorite Star Trek character, and I enjoyed all his appearances in the franchise, including the Picard mini-series. He and Supergirl are my only action figures. (Not true, I searched for action figures in my phone photos and was reminded of Elizabeth Warren.) I’ve never been much of a doll person, though.

More importantly, though, I’ve admired Patrick Stewart, the wonderful man who advocated for animal welfare, human rights, and the rights of humans to love whoever they want to. He always came across as an intelligent, humorous, and kind person. I’d hoped we’d have another decade to admire his work in additional roles, but dementia hits so many of us.

Thinking of Stewart, his family, and friends

Yikes. I just want George Takei, William Shatner, and Brent Spiner to hold on for a while. This is a hard enough time.

Learning to let go of those you love or admire is one of the hardest parts of aging. That and letting go of hopes and dreams.

Speaking of hopes, we’d hoped to get the rainwater collection system set up enough today to get some water in, and the guys did it! I was there, as sprinkles were falling and the valve opened. Water weren’t right in! Now, we got .05” of rain, so it probably has just enough to cover the bottom of the tank. But it’s a start! It helped me feel less sad.

Book Report: Carry Your Heart

This book gave me so much to think about that it’s taken me a while to share about it. Louis Busch is so transparent and open in his writing that you can’t help but admire him. Carry Your Heart: Indigenous Helping Wisdom and the Science of Psychological Flexibility is a challenging read in more than one way, but I’m very glad I stuck with it.

The first challenge for me was that I was unfamiliar with both the indigenous ways of thinking and the Western psychological framework that form the background for the teachings that Busch shares. I learned a great deal about both and came out of the book with some great perspectives on coping with life’s challenges.

Another challenge for me was that the book rambled a bit and changed focus suddenly from Busch and the people he interviews helping the reader to all of us hoping Busch can get the help he needs when his brother dies partway through the book. I was so concerned for Busch that I forgot all about trying to learn for myself. Of course, that probably taught me a lot about letting people deal with their own traumatic experiences in their own way (which I have needed to practice a lot lately, so it’s a very useful skill).

Nonetheless, I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to learn about resilience from the elders Busch talks to, mostly from western Canada, but also from all over Turtle Island, as I’m getting accustomed to calling our part of the world. I had to think a lot about how these Native Americans view pain, suffering, and sadness. The idea of carrying your heart, not hiding it but treating it gently, opened my eyes to a different way of coping.

I learned the important lesson that pain and sorrow can be your teachers that don’t necessarily leave you. They help you move on and gain wisdom that you can share with others you encounter. This really made me look at how I’ve lived my life differently. I’ve spent so much effort to bury my pain, not show my hurt, and “feel good,” that I’ve missed out on some potential lessons and the chance to act more authentically.

Honestly, some of my ideas about mental health and resilience have been shifted so much that I need to continue to dwell on what I’ve found in this book. I may need to re-read parts. I’m not going to usurp any Native American practices, though I found many of them fascinating. That feels like appropriating other people’s cultures. I think I can find equivalents of being in ceremony, offering tobacco, or doing a sweat lodge within my own spiritual heritage. That feels appropriate to me.

I may not have made much sense here, and this is the best I can do after a few days of introspection. If you are interested in different perspectives on life’s struggles and willing to put in the effort to take in new ideas that aren’t spoon fed (you have to work!), this book can help you learn to carry your heart toward wisdom and compassion.

Take it from this canine elder, spiritual peace takes work.

Real estate can be exhausting

Today it was darned chilly here in the Sacramento Mountains of New Mexico. Thus, I only took one brisk walk.

As long as I got to see a mule deer, I was okay.

Most of the afternoon was taken up with riding around with Alison the real estate gal, fresh back from her honeymoon in Costa Rica. The cold weather surprised her, too! But she put together some houses to look at, and off we went (with Anita). Let’s go look at houses! You may or may not find it more interesting than plants and birds.

I did see another White-breasted Nuthatch at a property.

The first house we looked at was mainly because it was right nearby. We called in the red house, because it was sorta red. It wasn’t really what we wanted in location or use of space.

Then we went on to the green house, which I had high hopes for. This house has decks galore and borders on the National Forest.

This deck wraps around to the front. Note the two-car garage!

The house is listed as having 5 bedrooms and two baths, but the whole upstairs space is just a warren of little rooms that only sort of count as bedrooms. However, one of those rooms has a door leading to a deck all its own, looking into the woods. My office, for sure.

Random hallway space with daybed. They could sleep many grandchildren

The rest of the green house is very nice, though the kitchen is small and has extra-blue cabinets. The living/dining area and decks were great. It is on a secluded street, too, but close to town. This is a house we could do lots with.

The next house we called the old man house. It had my favorite interior, with such homey rooms and a cool enclosed porch with really good blinds. There were only two bedrooms, but a nice Jack-and-Jill bath.

What was wrong with it? Well, the laundry room was hilarious. I could not reach the washer to empty it. And while the yard was nicely landscaped, it was very sloped. Finally, there were so many stairs! Once inside, it was fine. But outside would get harder and harder as we aged.

After this one, we set out to see a house that only had 9 photos online. That’s always suspicious. This house was on a downslope, but not hard to get in. The neighborhood was pleasant. Its main feature was a wall of windows overlooking beautiful trees. If you could ignore the rest of the house and the fact than it overlooks a highway, the view could sell the place. However, the tree house had mirrored walls, a sad kitchen and some bizarre downstairs plumbing. Not quite right.

We had enough of Ruidoso and set our sights on Alto, the neighboring area with no infrastructure other than a post office and a fire station. It’s where the house I liked so much last time is located. We did visit that one again, just to remind ourselves of it. it’s still nice, but Lee is hesitant to buy a manufactured home.

We went to another house in Alto, in a different neighborhood. This has fairly nice houses and good-sized lots. The house we looked at is not fancy at all, but is really cool. Though it’s rough-hewn, Lee and I both liked it. I liked the space around it, with lots of wildflowers.

Inside, the rustic house is very rustic. It has fun light fixtures, lots of quirky shelving units, a beautiful main room and a weird but fun kitchen/dining. There’s also a huge deck. The bathrooms were “recently remodeled” and are quirky, to say the least. The main toilet faces a window. but the floors have radiant heat!

I didn’t get any photos of the cute sunroom in the front of the house. It’s very tempting to just sit there!

Picture from outside showing the view of the main toilet. Curtains are a must.

We may try to get this last house. I like how unpretentious and rustic it is. Lee and I both feel comfortable there. If we can’t get this one, we may try for the green one as our summer escape house. We will have to see.

We had a nice meal this evening in a good Mexican restaurant. My chiles rellenos were wonderful and everyone else’s looked great. It was just a bit chilly inside.

Blessings abound

What’s something you do completely differently from how you were raised?

Since I’ve been near the area where I spent my childhood, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about how my nuclear family of origin worked. I’ve also been thinking what a blessing it was to spend time with my long-time friend, Vicki. Thus, the answer to the blog prompt jumped right out of my subconscious.

I do not say a blessing before every meal. However, our semi-non religious family felt the need to say these words.

God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. By his hands we are fed. Thank him for our daily bread. Father, Son, Holy Ghost, Amen (including hand gestures).

This gave young Suna much to think about. I did attend Presbyterian Sunday School, so I knew who God was. But why did they try to rhyme “good” with “food?” and hey, we did not eat bread every day, just on weekends. And why the crossing of ourselves after the Protestant blessing? The answer was that Dad came from a Methodist family and Mom from a Catholic one, so we did both things from some loyalty or something. I didn’t get a good answer as to why we did the meal ritual if we weren’t religious. Nonetheless, this was done until Mom died, even though I was a tree-hugging atheist at that point. Even when Dad later became a Quaker we were exempt.

Anyway, no, I don’t do Christian rituals by rote anymore. I do send out good energy in thanks for animals and plants who nourish me, and I say a blessing when I see dead animals on the side of the road or whenever I experience awe. I do still count my blessings, though I think they come from Spirit, whatever that is.

The spirit in the sky! Where I’m gonna go when I die, or some kind of song lyric.

Well, I’m done with that topic now. Although I must warn you that tomorrow I will have more encounters with unholy ghosts of my mother’s past.

I need protective feathers! (This is from a Wild Turkey)

Today, though, was a vast improvement over yesterday. Lee kindly drove me back over the three state park loop again, so I could photograph the scenery. There was no negativity, complaining, or grumpiness. (He may have used it all up yesterday, which was a bad day for him).

I even made him look at the Fairchild Oak and the seeping creek.

We also enjoyed getting to watch the pool at the condos get repaired. It’s so much fun to watch guys pumping and smoothing the coating. Then they started filling it up! I guess if I’d waited a week, I could have gone swimming here.

Work was much more interesting today, too, and I enjoyed helping folks until we had a final dinner with Vicki, back at Angelina’s, across from the condo. I’m glad I made the trip.

Take me back to Antelope Canyon

If you could relive one day from your past, which day would it be and why?

If I could, I think I’d endlessly relive the day Lee and I visited Antelope Canyon in Arizona. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. Plus you have to give money to Navajo people to see it.

The drive to Page from Sedona takes you through the Navajo Nation, so I got to see some hogans. It was a great day, even though the visit to Cameron Trading Post was a different day (fry bread and someone weaving a large rug).

But mostly I enjoyed the beauty of the slot canyon, especially when I could get away from other people and the (sweet) tour guide. It’s a magical place, exuding copious good vibes (for a tourist site), and getting there and back was also interesting. I could do it again.

I’m sure you want more photos. Ok!

BYW, this visit was on June 15, 2024. A greeeat day for me.

Dream on

What’s your biggest dream?

Funny the prompt should ask. My tarot group met tonight, and the reading we did was about manifesting the future with guidance from the collective consciousness and universal spirit (something like that). And the cards I drew reflected my concerns about the state of the USA right now and my growing resolve to put in the work to do something about it.

I got the message that I need to first rest and recuperate (all that tooth stuff) and to turn away from paths that don’t serve me. That’s what the Michael Pollan book on consciousness was making me think, too.

But most important, I saw that while things are going to get bad for a while, probably very bad, there is a good chance we can all rebuild a nation with goodwill and harmony. And that’s my biggest dream, that I’ll live to see us figure out a system not run by corporations, super-elites, and their insane puppet leaders. I want to live where people can live differently, have different paths, and all that, but care for each other.

We have to be strong, have resolve, and believe we can create the world we envision. And if we fail, we will know we tried.

Inspired by brave Christians

Who are you most inspired by?

Lately I’ve been noticing more and more Texas Christians coming out of hiding and talking openly about how they feel betrayed and bullied by churches that instill fear more than faith, pit people against each other, and conveniently ignore teachings of Jesus.

No illustrations for this, but Penney looking at a Devil costume headband adds a note of humor to my religious post.

I’ve known many of these ethical people who lead lives I admire during my life, but they’ve been drowned out by louder voices. That’s why it’s refreshing to see Christians whose moral compasses align more with mine speaking out.

The woman I reviewed the book of last week, Keith Brown, admitted she’d been duped by a cult and emerged ready to live openly as someone who listens to her true spiritual leader.

I’m also impressed with the bravery and commitment of James Talarico, for whom I plan to vote in the Texas senatorial race in November. He’s such a good guy that his corrupt opponent can’t find anything real to pick on him about. I’m sure he is imperfect, since he’s human, but listening to this ministry student speak kindly about all people of Texas, as Jesus would, and speak intelligently about issues we all care about makes me proud to have someone to vote FOR, not against.

And in a surprising twist, I discovered that Clint Harp, a Waco craftsman I used to enjoy when he worked with Chip and Joanna Gaines, was not a secret Homestead Heritage shill, just because those people were featured prominently in his Restoration Road series (which I love anyway). He and Kelly, his wife, have started a podcast called On Couch with Clint and Kelly Harp. The first episode was a candid and open discussion of how important supporting LGBTQIA+ people is to them. They talk about how their Southern Baptist upbringing instilled fear in them of even acknowledging gays. They portray a kind of Christianity where all people deserve a good life and the blessings of their faith. (Also Clint was at a Talarico rally!)

These inspirational folks represent the kind of world I was hoping I’d get to live in, where Christians model love and acceptance, other spiritual paths are celebrated, and those of us who are more on the earth-based path aren’t treated as pariahs. I have a little more hope.

By the way, this is the most positive thing I’ve ever written about Christianity, so I’m grateful to these folks (and of course other dear friends and family whose spiritual practices I admire).

Book Report: Counterfeit Culture

My friend Kathy in Waco lent me this book, Counterfeit Culture, by Keith Brown (3025). when I told her we’d checked out the Homestead Heritage place near there. Her church book club had read it, and it’s definitely a book with a Christian perspective and loaded with Bible quotes.

Keith Brown and her husband, Curtis, are the reason that facility is in Waco, because they provided the money to buy the land where all the Homestead Heritage stores and workshops are located. They were members of the “community” for thirty years before finally leaving.

If you’re interested in how sincere, intelligent people can get sucked into a cult with the best of intentions, you’ll find Brown’s book enlightening. Her personality and early life resemble mine, so I’m glad the only “cult” I nearly got sucked into was La Leche League in its worst years.

It’s pretty impressive that Brown has been able to forgive herself for her mistakes, apologize to her 9 (yikes!) children, and keep her marriage. The fact that she was able to keep her religious convictions also impresses me. She was able to see the loving God and forgiving Jesus that could give her strength. She points out that most people who leave Homestead Heritage reject religion. I can understand that.

Life in the group is exactly how you’d think a cult life would be. There are many good aspects, but there’s always a powerful leader and minions that use fear and intimidation to keep members in line. The rules kept changing, so you could do something that was right last week but elicit a reprimand this week. Worse, it sounded to me like how Communist China used to be, where people tattled on each other constantly, even family members.

Poor Keith Brown had to completely erase her outgoing personality and ways of thinking. I’ve only had to do that a little bit and for not too long and it gave me anxiety attacks. I am impressed she made it through to escape.

And by the way, the group buys most of the food it sells from standard sources, even the wheat. Sniff. I liked the gristmill. Almost all the members live in mobile homes bought by the group, too.

The book confirmed my fears that no utopian community stays that way long. And it opened my eyes to their finances, which involved a lot of borrowing during the years the Browns were there. I don’t know if it’s different now.

And still, if people are happy with the good aspects of Homestead Heritage and enjoy living there, I’m glad for them. They probably think I’ve been indoctrinated by crazy liberal ideas. I just wish power hungry despots didn’t end up requiring loyalty oaths and total obedience, there or here on the outside.

You can find the book on bookshop.org.

Feeling Lighter

I said yesterday that the light was coming, and I really felt it today, and not just because we’re halfway between the winter solstice and spring equinox! Not that I’m complaining that the sun is setting later, because I enjoyed the sunset and full moon tonight.

I just feel lighter and a little more positive after a few small pieces of good news, and I enjoyed good conversations with friends again. I need to keep this friendliness streak going! It’s hard when most of your friends trend towards the hermit lifestyle just like we do.

Our friends Martha and Mike, who often invite themselves to Sunday dinner, struggle like Lee and I do to make the effort, but we all praise Martha for making the rest of us spend time together. At least we admit our struggles to each other. You feel lots less alone when you figure out we all have challenges to push through.

Red hat. It fits. It’s warm. I’m trendy.

All in all I enjoyed my day of finishing my red solidarity hat, donning my Imbolc t-shirt, and gazing at the candles on my Brigid altar.

I was even able to spend a little time birding once it warmed up a little, since it was sunny and calm. A Belted Kingfisher flew right over my head! Now it has to warm up enough for me to sit out and see the Bald Eagle that’s hanging out here.

I can’t miss the turkeys though. Darryl Junior really wants to fly, and his legs pound the dirt like a herd of elephants as he runs and flaps his wings. Good exercise, I guess! Both the birds and horses seem glad for the slight warming trend. Tomorrow should be practically balmy, at least in the 60s.

And here’s January 2026 in its cooler glory.

Enough rambling for one day. I’m all rested and ready to tackle another work week.

Here’s my funky candle collection on the hearth. At least I decorated for a holiday!

Obstacles

One of the rocks I painted paraphrases Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic philosopher. It’s an idea that I lean on when challenges arise: the obstacle is the way.

My spouse bases much of his ethical foundation on Stoicism, and I also find that way of thinking helpful. Life is a series of challenges that you face as best as you can, while acknowledging that you can’t solve every problem. That works.

But I also stop to relish the beauty on that path.

I got a little solar lamp as my white elephant gift at the Master Naturalist holiday event. I hung it up near the birding station. It’s a dim beacon, but it will show me the way when I want to sit outside at night (but it won’t confuse birds). It reiterates in my mind what I keep hearing from many sources, which is not to give up when there’s still a dim ray of hope, even if in the end, you fail. Now that made me think of Anne Frank and get all weepy.

Keep being the light of hope, kindness, and caring for those around you.