Two dear friends had surgery today. These women have given me great support, encouragement, and caring in the many years I’ve known them. They are two of the most thoughtful and loving people I’ve ever met, so naturally they were in my thoughts today.
A flower for Mary and Ruth.
I told my husband how relieved I was when I heard they were both home and starting the next phases of recovery. He probably thinks I’m a bit bonkers for caring about so many of my old colleagues from the nonprofit years, but we went through so much together. I owe them my loyalty as so many have been so good to me.
The way I thought about my friends all day made me muse about how handy it would be if I had some sky dude to pray to. But even when I tried to pray as a child, I always thought God would get more of a feeling than my laundry list of specific entreaties. Nonetheless I find myself doing my pagan Buddhist version of sending out Lovingkindness aimed toward the West Coast of North America, where my friends are. I just feel it in my bones that positive intent has an effect on us.
No doubt humans have an instinctual drive to try to make things better for friends and family. And for all I know the vibes I send out may help. They help me, at least, to feel connected. I’ve heard that people recover better when they know others are cheering them on, but I’m not sure. I can hope!
I cheered these Cattle Egrets.
Perhaps if folks spent more time sending positive energy and good intent out and less time blaming others for sickness, natural disasters, and all that, we’d start to think and behave differently. To make the world better takes more than thoughts and prayers, of course, but if it leads to action, maybe humanity could slow the downward spiral we and our planet are in.
Save the big ole swamp rabbits!
I’m off to beam out healing vibes now. Good night.
Warning: If the circle of life doesn’t go over well with you, skip this one.
I’m sort of sensitive, as you may have figured out, and while I have a realistic view of life and death, I’m still vulnerable to caring about the life around me.
So much life around here.
So, last Thursday, when I went to get in my car to go to my Master Naturalist meeting, I heard strange noises in the garage. I wondered what the heck my little dachshund mix, Vlassic, could be doing back in the tool area. I called out to him, and heard “grr” in response.
What’s back there?
I carefully approached the work area, where some things had been pushed close together to make it easier for my brother-in-law to get around with his walker. Lo and behold, something was wedged in the space between the work bench and the shed. It was not Vlassic.
In there?
It was big and gray. Was it a hog? A cattle dog? A coyote? Yes, it was a coyote. A very sad and scared coyote. I obviously could not help it. It was in pain and could hurt me. So, I ran in and told Lee. He said to go to my meeting and he’d help it get out.
He did that, and saw that it was badly injured, but no one could catch it (a wild animal) to take it anywhere for rehab. We were pretty sad about the poor thing. I admit that I cried.
The guys saw it go into the pond a couple of times, then run off after Alfred OPENED THE GATE and confronted it. Yes, Alfred can open the gate, he just chooses not to. What a great guard dog.
So, all weekend we’ve been wondering about the coyote. This morning I saw about twenty turkey vultures gathered in the pasture by the road next to the house. Was it the coyote?
Buzzard Central.
No, it was a young possum that had gotten hit by a car. I probably over-reacted, but I was sad, because I am pretty sure I saw it combing home Thursday night, snacking away on the side of the road. I’m fond of possums.
Sent good thoughts to this guy, too. One of the weird things I do it say a little “prayer” or affirmation every time I see an animal that was hit by a car. They deserve good thoughts.
Then, this afternoon, I got one of those weird feelings like I should go out behind the house and check for things. I found a beautiful milkweed plant. I kept walking, because I saw a weird “root” in the pond. I’d never seen it before, and I pretty much know what trees are in there, even after the winter storms.
A home for monarchs! Antelope horns!
Sigh, it was the coyote. What drove it into the pond? I don’t know. But it turns out it must have been run over by a car. The poor dear must have been trying to end its pain.
The pond brings peace in many ways, even to animals in pain.
Lee and I are both relieved that our coyote neighbor is out of its pain, because we sure felt bad that were were unable to help it or put it out of its pain. Circle of Life. Ugh.
Life’s a mystery, full of joy and sadness.
Living our in the country exposes you to to the beauty and the struggles in nature. All you can do is observe and do your best. I gave our coyote neighbor a flower and said what passes for a prayer for it.
I threw it a flower.
I’m glad I found it, because it could have messed up the pond by decaying in there. Now it is out (I didn’t do it) and it can feed other beings and the circle life will continue.
You never know what’s next.
It’s actually been an okay weekend, other than pondering life and death. I just had to write this out, because I need to stop processing and get some closure. Sharing the story helps the coyote live on in my memory and the memory of others. That makes it immortal!
Today I’ve been feeling sick. I’m not a gun lover in the first place, and now I feel like we are all just waiting for our turns to be someone’s target. The cynic in me feels that the people who run the US care only about themselves, their families, babies (up to the moment of birth, at which point they are worthless), and guns.
[Some of you may want to stop reading now and go enjoy some Fox News.]
What has sucked the wind out of my sails the most is how I’ve seen regular folks reacting to the endless shootings of people who just happened to be living their lives in the wrong places.
I burned candles in their honor, but won’t stop there.
It’s not just the sincerely uttered “thoughts and prayers,” because I know that’s what people in a certain social group say when they just don’t have anything else to say. No, it’s people who say the ONLY thing you can do to help dead children, teachers, grocery shoppers, and such is to pray.
“My tradition teaches that prayer without action is just noise.”
Rabbi Jack Moline
As my friend Lynn pointed out to me, you don’t hear many ministers saying that. You hear them calling for change. At least the ministers I’ve heard. Rabbi Moline is one of them. Another quote from him:
There is no tradition that, at its core, would justify the massacre of children at school, grandparents at the grocery store, or congregants in a house of worship. And there should be no faith leader that sits idly by while the people we have dedicated our lives to ministering to are slaughtered. Prayer works only when it softens the hardened heart and opens it to the message of healing and justice that flows through every tradition’s scripture. Prayer works only if it leads to confession, contrition and repentance. Prayer works only if it is not an excuse for inaction.
NOTHING PREVENTS THE FREE EXERCISE OF RELIGION MORE EFFECTIVELY THAN A BULLET
Worse than this, I’ve seen people post that it’s not so bad all these people are dying, because that way they get to go meet Jesus and hang out with their deceased relatives sooner rather than later. I’m sorry, but WTF. It’s hard for me to imagine their pacifist god-figure wanting people do die early in a massacre just to hang out with him. Um, I hope they draw comfort from that.
Not a fan
I got so upset that I ran to my trusted sources for words of comfort, words to help me remember who I am, and words to steer ME via my beliefs. My Christian spiritual leader, Jim Rigby reminded me of these words by Martin Luther King, Jr.:
“Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction.”
MLK
And then Jim talked about having the courage to be gentle and find hope as I respond to the hurt I am feeling right now. He is right, of course:
Greek culture had a word for “gentleness” (praus) that actually could meant “power under control.” It was sometimes used for a powerful animal that had been tamed. Today “gentleness” might refer to finding the courage not to use violence to solve all of our problems. Before we can tackle the problem of gun violence we must first ask ourselves an important question: Does our nation have the courage to be gentle?
Guns are no replacement for the civic virtue of courage. This nation cannot be saved by military grade weapons in the hands of cowardly spirits. Human decency requires the bravery to steer by our hopes not our fears.
Jim Rigby, Facebook
While all that helped me spiritually, I still am faced with even more blatant 1984-style language and proclamations by civic leaders that my head literally hurts. Why are guns more important than children, I keep wondering? Why is “freedom” more important than protecting the mentally ill and dangerous from themselves and others? I’m not alone. From Richard Stone of Taylor, Texas:
I got in a row on one of the local community pages about arming teachers. Saw this over on Twitter a few minutes ago and now I can’t wrap my head around the cognitive dissonance.
Richard Stone, Facebook
He then quoted someone else who finally put into words what has been causing my hurt:
“I heard this point yesterday and can’t get it out of my mind – TX politicians don’t trust teachers to choose books, but they think arming teachers is a good idea.”
Bethany Albertson
I have a child who is a teacher. He just celebrated five years at Austin ISD and I am proud of him. He was raised in a gun-free household, as was I, and as I have been until things changed around here. I do not want to see him having to protect his students from killers. I want him to teach history and even hide some facts in among the state-mandated stuff. I want him free to care about his students, but also feel free to criticize or discipline appropriately, when necessary, without worrying that kid will come back and shoot him the moment they turn 18. Holy crap that is just plain dystopian. I’m nauseated.
And don’t tell me to move. I’m from here, too.
Anyway, I’m not a crazed snowflake who wants to snatch people’s possessions out of their hands. I’m a mother, a spouse, an aunt, a nature lover, and just a regular human who wants to feel free to have opinions, live in safety, and feel free to spread love, kindness, and even lovingkindness, around the land.
Breathe, Suna
But to also speak up. So many folks I know have been afraid to say we need to do something about the gun worship culture here. Why? Because of gun worshippers. Not hunters, not safety officers. People who literally LOVE the things and don’t give a shit how many people have to die because of it.
Some bunny loves us all. Me.
As so many people I know have been asking, how did we get here? Can we make things better. I want to help.
I used to be a member of a Unitarian Universalist church. This is a religious denomination known for being extra-open to spiritual paths of all sorts. I still like a lot of the things UUs do, and one of them is the idea of “UU Lent,” which is a chance to do some intentional thought about a word per day leading up to the time when many faiths celebrate Easter. And you’re supposed to do a photo each day to show what represents that word to you, as described below (check out the honorifics on the designers; UUs are extra woke).
Here are all the words. They HAD to start with the hard one. Thanks to Robin Slaw for inspiring me.
I’ll post mine on Instagram/Facebook, but also here at the end of each blog post, so you can read ’em or skip ’em, as you see fit. Let’s get reflecting, shall we?
(Note for y’all who don’t know me well: I encourage you to practice your religion however you wish! I respect all of you who take the time out to think about something bigger than you. Yes, even those of you who think I’m on the short path to Hell. We’ll see.)
UU Lent for February 26: Prayer
This has never been my favorite concept, because I just never liked how so many people I was around did it. They tell some Daddy in the Sky to get to blessing them and the people they like right now. I have never been comfortable telling a deity what to do or asking for special favors. And when I eventually realized that my “deity” was good ole Ma Earth, I just felt like I should let Earth deal with things.
I have this collection of objects in my living room that remind me of who I am and who my spiritual role models are. Both the St. Bridget/Goddess Brighid and the white invoking goddess a friend look like they are praying, so that’s my image for “prayer.” All the nature things, even the candle wax that looks like a triple moon, help me focus on taking care of all of our planet.
On the other hand, I’ve never had a problem putting out intentions into the world, but I guess it felt more like I was making an effort to make change happen, not passively waiting on some other entity to do it. And I do occasionally meditate on a topic, which is prayer-ish.
On the third hand, you know, the invisible one, I’ve seen many people perform “prayers” that I found quite moving and comfortable to me. I’m glad I got old enough to really understand that everyone’s ideas about God(dess) and their spiritual paths are their own and not my problem (well, until I get punished for not participating in the dominant paradigm, which can happen…).
The Hermits' Rest 