spirituality – The Hermits' Rest

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.

Making Up for Scary Days

The two most frightening days of my adult life are remembered by dates. One is 911. I still have dreams of being lost at O’Hare airport and can hear in my mind the sound of my plane’s captain telling us his colleagues and many others had just perished. I had the same feeling of living a nightmare on January 6, 2021. I can’t remember why I was watching a news channel then, but I was. I was terrified that the mob would kill lawmakers or burn down the US Capitol. I guess I expected terrorists to act that way, but not our citizens.

Today I did not forget. I saw it with my own eyes. It was real.

What’s also real is that there are millions of good, kind, ethical and law-abiding people in this country. I will not forget that, either. I had conversations all day that reminded me of it. I was reminded of how much we have in common, even if we grew up in different places. I was reminded of how even folks with values unlike mine mostly try to be good people, even if they don’t quite hit the mark (thinking of Mom).

I also discovered that I don’t have to think every person is a “good guy” for them to matter. People do awful things. They do. I can be disgusted by things people say and do but still see their humanity. Sounds simple but it’s hard for me to get my head around. Like my coworker’s grandmother said, “everybody’s a little crazy.” All of us.

I felt good today wearing my “You matter” shirt and painting good intentions into poorly lettered Reminder Rocks. it helped me send out positive thoughts, energy, intentions, or vibes even on this scary day. I kept channeling acceptance until I felt okay.

If we stick together in spite of our differences maybe we can turn this country into a less scary place, one kindness at a time. And even if we don’t, we can’t say we didn’t try.

Good Things Balanced by a Passing

I fell asleep last night before I could blog anything. That’s fine, because yesterday I mostly recuperated from the camping trip. The highlight of that day was discovering that the trim on my birding station was completed! I was so relieved to see all the naked wood painted red AND the pile of leftover wood gone! I think they are going to paint the hardie plank too, but it looks fine as it is.

That’s a cute little hut, and I use it every day!

I also got a gift from Connie. I guess Darryl got her into reproductive mode. It’s weird to me that all the lady birds decided to resume laying around the solstice. They are supposed to start around the equinox. Perhaps the extra warm weather has fooled them. (ETA: I said this yesterday, too. I guess it excited me.)

This morning, before I took my walk, I helped Lee replenish the horses’ hay. The horses didn’t make it any easier. Drew was running around trying to bite everyone until Dusty finally kicked him with both rear hooves. Way to go, old man! And Spice politely stayed out of the way right until she really needed to move, so Lee ended up bonking her with the hay ring. She lived.

We’re all keyed up after Drew was biting everyone

So that’s life around here. I did want to note the passing of a woman who had a huge influence on my development as a human, a feminist, and a fiber artist: Barbara G. Walker. During my most confused period of life, my twenties, I discovered her collections of knitting stitches and poured myself into designing garments as an escape. She was an incredibly meticulous researcher (she also wrote about crystals and other topics).

Then one day I went to the bookstore in the University of Illinois campus to get another volume of her knitting. While there, I wandered over to the spirituality section, because I’d been wondering what a feminist religion would look like. I found The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, the result of her research into goddesses and other female-centered concepts. However, I didn’t realize she was the author until I got back to the student break room in the linguistics department and looked at the covers. I ran to find Georgia, my advisor and fellow knitting feminist to show her. I was so happy.

I read that entire book (probably when I should have been reading about pragmatics) every night before falling asleep, slowly but surely healing some of the wounds I felt from patriarchal religion. Walker sent me on my way to discovering Starhawk and other authors and helping me learn I wasn’t alone.

I’ll always be grateful to Barbara G. Walker. I still treasure her books, especially The Skeptical Feminist, which is out of print. Read more about it in this blog from a few years ago.

I’ve been reading tributes to her. I wasn’t the only one who had an epiphany when they realized she wrote both feminism and knitting. She lives on in our memories.

Holidays Handled

When I had a nuclear family and when I had my children, I was one of those women who bought into the cultural norm of making my family happy for Christmas, just like my mom had done for me. She worked so hard with little money but much creativity.

Pretend there are cigarette ashes on the floor and this will be mom-like.

I fretted over decorations, presents, food, and such. I spent a lot of money on things I hoped would make people happy. Shoot, the year after my divorce, I gave my ex presents to set up a household (which he never used, but that’s another story). The point is I felt that I was showing my love through material things. And rather too much of it. I think it’s because I felt loved at Christmas as a child when I got my gifts. Not everyone else is me, though.

This aspect of my personality has been hard to mollify. Even when I saw gifts I’d worked hard to select never used, even when my children didn’t give me anything for birthdays, Valentines, or Christmas. But I finally worked through my “love language problem,” and ended the excess. Much backsliding has occurred in recent years, but since my sister and older son cut ties with us, my motivation to create good holidays has plummeted.

Now I can enjoy the parts of midwinter, the solstice, and the dark nights how I want to, with introspection and gratitude for what I do have, which is much.

It’s made this time of year much less stressful to no longer decorate the heck out of the house, spend hours looking for gifts, etc. I now enjoy spending time around the holidays with people who care about me and am fine without a big gathering. I enjoy going camping or staying in a cabin and receiving the gift of time with Lee, my son, and his partner.

For Yule, I’ve made gifts for the family that come from my heart. They can keep them, toss them, or whatever. I got joy from making the gifts and putting good intentions into them. That feels great. I’ve reached a good place of genuine good spirits and caring. No more grumpy Suna in a frenzy of materialistic capitalism.

This is idealized me as a happy angel with a grumpy angel trying to tempt me. I’m not sure how well I like the work of the “image playground.”

My hope is that each of you get the opportunity to do something that pleases YOU during the winter holidays. If you enjoy decorating, decorate! Or make cookies! Or buy great gifts! Or ponder your nativity scene and its meaning in your tradition. Just don’t fall too far into my trap of trying to make others happy.

Handling the holidays works best when everyone has some traditions to enjoy and time to share them with those who love and appreciate them.