Peace in the Storms, llvl

Anyone who lives in a River Valley knows you have to take storms seriously. You have to be prepared. Although not all storms have flood potential, you want to be watching. I have a sister- and brother-in-law who have the furniture movers on speed-dial, in case they need them to come and load their downstairs into a truck. They’ve done what they could to make their house fare better in the storms and be easier to clean up. (it’s totally ingenious and lovely.)

When storms happen, people start calling around letting others who have traditionally had water problems (why say flood when a euphemism will do?) and remind them that their second (third, fourth) bedroom is open. Others dash to the store in case they’re going to be cut off for a while.

But we live in open space. There are wide swaths of fields in these valleys and the storms often roll down alleys of least resistance. So we get to watch the beauty and power build before they let loose. And let loose they do. This is a part of the country where thunderclouds build and then explode into light and sound. Nature throws a beautiful tantrum.

And then the storm passes and all is still and clean and Beauty. The creeks are full and then the river. The land is plump and satisfied. The trees drip on unwary passersby as the birds start to sing once again. Peace visits the Valley. If it’s been a really big storm, the neighbors come out and start helping others dig out. But mostly, there’s Peace and Quiet, and it’s a lovely, lovely thing. (in Deb’s lovely photo, the storm is building.)

Peace Together, llvl

Collaboration isn’t always easy, but old tropes to the contrary, it often makes a much better product. (case in point, I interrupted my writing to open Deb Slade’s new pic for the week, wow!)

But I’m working on a workshop. It may become a book. It may become a bigger workshop, but right now, it’s a bunch of ideas. Slowly, with other people’s gentle hands and sometimes firm pushback, it’s emerging and taking shape.

Yesterday I had one of those conversations with my principal collaborator and some pieces got the big yawn and others the explosive wow, what if this or that. One person would move and then the others… pieces then either got knit back in or left in the dust.

It’s going to be a better piece for this. And with hope, we will shed the utopian, wouldn’t it be lovely pieces and move toward some, what if we did this, what kind of outcome might we get… oh, good, right. yes, that. what if. More on the theme… piecing Peace.

We’re poking at ages and stages of women’s development and aging, and looking at how we might work to support one another, and how we might grow and make Peace across the years… It’s still on the drawing room floor, but there are glimmers. And that’s exciting.

And working with friends on projects of Peace? That’s extraordinary. As my friend KJ sings, “you gotta believe.” Peace really needs us to believe that it’s possible!

After a day like yesterday, I believe. More than ever, I believe. We’re dreaming it, so we can do it. Dreaming together. oh, yeah…

Commitments and Peace, llvl

This summer, I’ve been able to remember what a difference ceremony can make in your life. For many years, while living in CA, I made my living celebrating people’s lives. I did baby blessings, coming of age ceremonies, graduation, weddings, first job, career change, divorces, house blessings, retirement, memorials and you name it. I even blessed the fleet.

Through it all, my clients and I looked at their intentions for the next steps of their lives and gathering their communities around them in support. Since I worked with people who were outside or in-between religious traditions, the community was an important component.

I moved back East because my parents were aging, and I spent 10 years focusing on them and on my sister as they all passed away. It was wonderful work. I’m so thankful I could. It was life-changing. It made a better woman of me.

But I missed the challenge of building services to fit. And then, thank goodness, the law changed. I was one of only a couple ministers in this area who could perform same-sex services, not just with my church’s blessing, but with their cheering and egging me on. Three of the couples were ours and the community turned out and was brought closer together for their joy.

And this year there have been other weddings, inside and outside my community, same sex and heterosexual. There have been challenges. But there has been joy and communities have stepped up to do the work to support and encourage commitment.

And that? adds up to one happy wedding priestess. At each wedding, no matter what, people come to terms with lives that are different from theirs and they sign on. And that, in it’s own little persistent way is Peacemaking. And I get to do it. lucky, lucky, lucky me!

Food and Peace, llvl

It takes food to make Peace. Empty bellies make for empty futures and Peace is a future we must labor toward.

Feeding one another is a shared ministry. It doesn’t matter why the children are hungry, it only matters that they are. It matters that we have money to put toward the future of Peace, the Future and Peace.

$1.25 for a child to eat for a weekend in one district. $3.50 and going down in another. Peace. It’s for us to do. if you will, go to Love Flows and donate to the LOVE Project (Let Our Valley Eat.) You can donate on a monthly basis. $10 a month feeds a kid for a year. Or donate to a similar project near you. Gotta feed the kids if you’re serious about giving Peace a chance.

To Harvest Peace or Not, llvl

The picture Deb took this week offers a great snapshot of Central Pennsylvania agriculture with our fields in various states of harvest. The sun is going down. Because we’ve just had the full moon, it’s easy to imagine it rising orange across the river, our Harvest Moon. Life is fertile here, a product of the bounty of the land, the generosity of the climate and the hard work of the farmers. And we give thanks.

Contrast that quiet beauty with the terror of the city that beautiful day in September — the hatred that engendered it; the hatred that it caused, both a by product of so many bad decisions. So many words written, no more needed, just our deep sadness for this incalculable loss. I looked out the window at those towers in that city every day for many years. I had tiny bits of history there. I worked in the investment industry. I left the city to pursue dreams, but the city never leaves your heart… and even without a personal connection, the horror is overwhelming. If you haven’t gone to the memorial, do it. you begin to understand the immensity of what happened; of the deep imperative for Peace.

And then a personal sadness for my sweet nieces whose father ended his life years later.

Peace is needed. Honesty. Understandings that actions have consequences and a willingness to think those things through — as true globally as personally. Healing. Love. When we arise from yesterday’s pain, we must go to work.

Prosaic, Poetic Peace, llvl

Peace is in the little things, the little moments. We had one of those moments last night. A quiet time with friends, gathered around a table feasting on late summer bounty and later gathered around a living room feasting on our companions’ words.

Oh, I was grateful to be included in this group of wordsmiths, grateful that my words claimed their own space, different, but clear. And grateful that I live somewhere where spontaneously people will gather to say what they believe in stately measures while others will listen and gasp and nod. Is there more that we can ask than the sweet magic of every extraordinary day.

Today I spoke to two artists at the coffee shop, women who immerse themselves in textiles, opening up both pattern and sensuality to those of us who find it in words… or somewhere else.

This is everywhere… but it’s so apparent here, because there’s more space between the people. You can see more easily what someone else is up to. It’s not always a beautiful sight, but it so, so, so often is. Peace in words. Peace in silk. Peace in sweet companionship.

Chance Encounter Peace, llvl

When you live in a small town, you know people. You know who your neighbors are. You find yourself on at least nodding acquaintance with a whole bunch of people. Mostly, maybe not always, this is a good thing. Sometimes even a great thing.

This is a college town, so round about September, life cranks up. People are home back from wherever they went. (and all of us are whining about parking!)

Yesterday I had a meeting in a cafe. Lots got accomplished. At the end, my friend/colleague and I sat finishing up business. While we were there we nodded at a couple and jumped up to hug people in in two groups. Later, walking down the street, we met just the person we needed to talk to. And then we had a mini congregational meeting on the street outside CVS. There aren’t that many UUs, so to encounter seven in the same space is a bit random — but fun. And only a couple of us were there to think about feeding kids on a big scale, three of them were there to think about feeding a kid on a small scale. all in all, it was one more great example of the glories of living in a small town (well,when you’re one of those included. For those that aren’t I’m working as fast as I can. And I’m sorrier than I can say.)

But for the moment, this is Peace in a small town. And it gives me strength to stay on course.

Collaborative Peace, llvl

Oh, man, working together. What a joy! What a gift! What a better product.

There is nothing sweeter than pushing around ideas and figuring out where they go on a (sometimes figurative, sometimes literal, sheet of paper.) Wow, this works with this. Gee, I never thought of that. Boy Howdy, this is fun!

I’m working on a presentation for a workshop. I’ve got notes about this dating back almost 10 years, and finally the right time came around. And now, suddenly, there are the right people to work on it with. Yesterday, I thought and took notes with one woman. Today, I have to write that up so I can think and write again. (and sometimes write and think, because as someone wise once said, how can I know what I think until I write it down?)

I really like what I’m working on and I love working on it with someone else(s). And working together is so much easier these days, because if you can’t be in the same room, you just sit down and skype. Technology does make my life better and sweeter.

I know some people are really solitary thinkers. I am not always that. Not on the big things. I like knowing how you think differently than I do so that the stew gets far more interesting. I started to take that analogy farther, but thought it might not further the argument. (I’ve never used further successfully in a sentence before. laughing.) It’s hard work. It demands both self-reflection and getting out of the way of the process.

So here’s to my collaborators, my co-workers and co-creationists. Here’s to a community of thought and progress, to doing good two by two or three by three, rather than one by one. Thanks, it’s swell. it feels like magic. And oh, btw, The work is so much stronger. I’ll take it. and rejoice. I have longed for this my whole life. It seems the little bit of Peace I can imagine gets larger every time we sit down to talk. Thank you, thank you, thank you. and oh, yes. Wahoo!

Sabbath Peace Restant, llvl

I did something very hard yesterday, and I’m proud of myself. And important note to self: I survived. Did I do it as well as it could have been done. Mebbe not. But it was a first step. I took action because what happened was beforehand was ugly and petty. I took action because I could stand for my friend, and not standing for her, meant saying what I believed didn’t matter very much.

Because it was about my friend, it was easier to take a step that scared and intimidated me. And I knew that it would scare and intimidate the people I talked to… I knew I had to find a way to connect to the people. I schemed. I practiced. And in the end, just did it. And partially, I did it because I told you I would. So thanks for that. Thanks for being my community.

It’s not that I need anyone else to think I’m a hero, It’s that I have to remember that this is doable. I can stand up. My faith asks me to do that. My courage sometimes falters. and if so, then shame on me. And friendship asks me to do things. I guess I have to say that friendship is a really big part of what I believe to be important. James Weldon Johnson: “I’m lonely, God said, I’m going to make me a world.”

Sundays aren’t all Sabbath for me, for me it’s a working day. But the end of the day will be a down day… I might need to find a body of water to stuff myself into. Summer time. Peaces. Tomatoes. Corn. And a good book. Peace, it’s an up and down thing. But there’s no up if I don’t stand up, step up and speak up. Guessing it probably needs you to do the same things. And really, I survived.

Nature Peace, llvl

Mother Nature not only offers us good eats, she offers us Beauty. Here’s this squash, portrait by Deb Slade in wild and beautiful color.

We come in wild and beautiful color too, but somehow that’s never as celebrated as the different colors of, say, heirloom tomatoes.

But what are we, each and everyone of us, if not precious heirlooms?

Peace is a many colored thing… Let’s embrace that. Let’s act on it.

Sacred Village

Building a World of Peace, Village by Sacred Village.

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