Peace and Reality, llvl

I talk and talk and talk about how beautiful it is where I live. And it is.

But the reality is everything isn’t beautiful and while I’m enjoying the people chatting on Market Street, other people are having to listen to hateful jokes told about people who look like them. Oh, right. Of course it’s lovely for me. I (mostly) “fit in.”

Yesterday made my friend even happier she’s leaving. Can I blame here? No. Do I have work to do? Yes. I will talk to this group. Will it cause them to change? Probably not, at least deep inside, but it may cause them to quiet in public. It’s at least a start. Do we need to be more open and active about rooting out such close-minded hatefulness? yes. Are they horrible people? Ignorant, certainly.

And then someone posts on FB a story, another story, about my hometown where a kid in a KKK hood harassed a young coed. Harassed… it doesn’t really talk about how horribly frightened she must have been does it. Because she at least knows her history. She doesn’t have the luxury of not knowing history, because she’s on the downside of it. Who knows what happened to her people.

At the same time, there are people in my hometown

This is on the people who look like me to confront, so that people can be safe where they are. I’ll probably get a symposium together. I hope you’ll come. I hope you’ll step up. I hope we can make a difference.

Because Peace for only some of us is no kind of Peace at all. I’m really sad today.

Here she is, starting college… and being hassled. Ok, threatened, not hassled. I’m so grateful she went to the cops. And that must have been scary. Especially if she’s new there, because who would know, if the KKK is hassling you that the cops are going to be receptive.

Folks, this one’s on us. What do we do? I wrote to the editor. I will talk to this group. I may talk to the owner. I will probably try and organize a group to teach and talk about this. But each of us need to stop these jokes… in the streets, in our families, in our friends. The racist jokes, the sexist ones, the rape jokes, the… you know them. we have to speak up each and every time. We have to step up.

So, Peace, my dears. It’s on us. And so’s Reality. It’s our community. what do we want it to look like?

Celebrating Community Peace, llvl

My bro- and sis-in-law have the world’s blowout on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. It’s huge. They spend weeks preparing and friends come by and help garden and generally spiff. Did I mention I have the world’s best bro- and sis-in-law? This marriage business has all sorts of benefits you don’t expect. Not just a great husband, but kids and a great family. Sold to the Priestess!

The all-important porta-potty arrives. Tents go up. Lights get strung. The fire gets laid.

Then people arrive in droves, carting in sound boards and mics. The world’s biggest beer ice chest gets filled. Missy Margaret’s fabulous redone antique cooler gets stocked with soda.

And we’re off. hundreds of people show up toting food and beverage, chairs, and instruments. savory food on these tables. dessert on that one. hotdogs outside on the grill. It’s a madhouse where no one gets mad. You rarely have a good long visit with anyone, unless you do.

Last year, i could barely show up because Deb was newly dead. This year, I was thrilled to be there and delighted that the woman who took Deb’s blood was hanging out. Three years ago we fretted that Than wouldn’t make it to the next party. This year… the party was bigger than ever and he was king of the hill… and that makes his world happy and grateful.

Not only was there no hurricane yesterday, the rain held off.

Living la vida local. Outside with good food and neighbors and music that was sometimes great, sometimes not… sometimes Peace is elusive. But sometimes Magic happens and Peace shows up right along the river with loads of laughing people… Peace… and today, i’m off for my last outdoor swim at the town pool… magic enough for me.

Gradual Peace, llvl

Building Community is a slow and gradual effort. It means making the effort to go to picnics in the park. It means showing up at the church yard sale and talking not only to the strangers but also to the people you know. It means hearing what’s right and what’s wrong in their lives. It means sharing the same. It means laughing at whatever nonsense occurs and soberly waiting for the hard news.

All in all, it’s a pretty amazing exercise.

And here’s the great thing, it makes life better. Building community is as much making life la vida local as is appreciating the local landscape.

Today I was thinking about it because I was working at the church yard sale. I ran into lots of my fellow members, no big surprise, but I ran into a whole bunch of people I knew from other places in my life. Nurses who cared for my parents, my 10th grade American History teacher, a woman who eats breakfast at the same diner that I do… someone I see when I go there, but we’ve never chatted. A dear friend that I never run into. It’s a rich and wonderful stew.

I’m an extrovert, so yard sales are overwhelming. Too many people and too much stuff. But hey, this contributes to my salary, so I’m going to be there. And it’s fabulous if tiring. And some people love doing this. Some love setting it up (some just do what they’re supposed to) and some love shopping (and some just hold purses!)

But all in all… it’s building community. And Building community is building Peace. And that? is a very good thing.

Local Peace, llvl

This was a real living la vida local peace. Picnics made easy… set up in the park and get comfortable. Walk to the food truck and get fabulous food (really? Egyptian and Mexican food in downtown L-burg?). Wander back to the vendors for ice cream… local ice cream of course.

Chat with old friends. Wave at acquaintances. Cuddle the kids that haven’t yet grown out of it. Take pleasure in watching the connections grow up. Hear from the local committee about plans for the riverfront reclamation. (hopefully they’ll reclaim it from the poison ivy… oh, yuck!). Tubing was discussed at length.

This isn’t a perfect place. There’s a lot of work to do. But when you spend some time building connections, it’s easier to do the work.

And hey, sometimes you just have to put your feet up and have a little local Peace. And who knows? You might just run into your nephew at the bar when you stop for a drink to hear the band. And life? will be just all right! Peace and la vida local. it’s all right.

Mysterious Peace, llvl

In between writing this musing celebrating the glories of Autumn mornings and my rather late start to my blog post, I attended a Town Council Committee meeting in Bloomsburg (a neighboring town) which is considering enacting a non-discrimination clause. They’re looking at this because a bridal shop refused to do business with two lesbians looking for wedding gowns because their marriage would be unbiblical. (don’t get me started about the Bible and marriage.)

Here’s the one thing I’ll say in their defense. They have been hacked and they have received death threats. Their pastor wondered who would stand for them. Um, the police and the FBI. Those things are illegal.

This is not a religious issue, this is a civil rights issue.

What the mists slowly revealed along with all the bounty and the beauty was ignorance and fear. People don’t understand what freedom of religion is. People don’t understand what discrimination is. And perhaps to my mind the worst is that people don’t understand that they need to stand up for what is right.

The bridal shop has a perfect right to go out of business based on their religious beliefs and become martyrs. But people have a right to be served in the public sphere. The lawyer assured me that the specter of gold stars could not be raised because there were laws protecting people. Um, I don’t think he knew what specter means… and when someone said “I’m not protected,” he said, well, no…

I was bitterly disappointed that there were no mainstream Christian clergy represented today, standing on the side of love and justice. I’m sorry the council allowed people to talk about sharia law and didn’t stop them and explain (why yes I stood up then) that in fact enacting Christian laws IS the equivalent of shaira laws.

This is an important issue, my dears, people’s right to housing and employment is at stake. We like to think that “they” could just take their business elsewhere, but the fact is if you’re open for business, you’re open for business… And the GLBTQ folk deserve to be protected — because they are people. And as long as they’re not protected they’re at risk and we’re complicit in that risk. Let’s go.

Sadly Seeking Peace, llvl

It always seems unthinkable when a child dies. All that promise suddenly disappearing from life. The laughter, the scents, the quirky mind, the strengths and the foibles — all gone in an instant.

A million whys, a thousand: well how did it happens can’t change the sad reality — can’t help us escape which is really what we’re wanting.

I’ve been thinking about child death a lot recently: the news reeks with it. I’m too familiar with this — too many dead children in my life. Too many dead children in the world that has become immured to the sight and forgotten the individual horror in these mass killings…

And then a chance encounter in the back yard with my senior high neighbor whose friend had just died with that agonizing burden of a friend, recently seen, now gone. Asking the hows and the whys but really, just wanting his friend back.

As a minister, I need to call those in my community whose hearts are breaking, the parents, the kids — oh the kids. Making dates to enfold and love. Standing steady for those who have collapsed in grief… Thinking gratefully that I have been so filled up from this summer that I can stand firmly in love for them. This is their tragedy not mine…

But inside, as a sister, oh, I missed my sister as I recall receiving my father’s call about my nephew and making the call about my niece. Sweet and Holy One, can I really have had to tell my sister and her husband their only remaining child was dead? And we were the ones who always called each other when bad news broke.

Please, my dears, say nothing other than oh, I’m so sorry, Oh, your poor hearts, O your blessed child. Release the I don’t know how you bear its because they have no choice… They don’t know how they bear it either. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Call your family together, gather with your neighbors, immerse yourselves in Love, because Life is so damned precious and so damned fleeting. Peace eludes us in these moments. Hope is too far away. Only Love can keep our hearts beating in one common humanity of grief and eventually acceptance and then the far off healing of a grievous scar. Let us tend to one another and let us weep… Each child in each vida local, precious and needed. Each parent’s loving heart…

Your Peace and Mine, llvl

I love Sweden. I fell in love in 1969 and that sweet love has never been dislodged from my heart. I have 45 years of friendships that have become “family” connections. The language has a special place in my soul and on my tongue. The countryside is gorgeous and people here know how to sit and just take that in. Summer is short, but vacations are long and so are the days. Swedes do what they can to enjoy every minute, and this year, summer cooperated with warm, sunny weather. I spent more time sitting and looking at scenery with a cup of tea or a glass of wine in my hand than I have since I left here four years ago.

The things they fret about with their social system are things we would be so happy to have. When I talk about what I’m working on with feeding hungry children, they look at me as if we’re barbaric. Children are fed and housed. There’s public transportation. They’re the world’s standard for low use of antibiotics in animals, both in pets and meat production. They don’t use dyes in food. Even their toilet paper isn’t bleached. There’s so much going for it, and I love how I feel when I’m here. And goodness knows, there are those friends.

There’s a place for me on many a sofa, but in the end, it’s a visitor’s place.

I have often fantasized about living here. Early in my life, I applied for a job as a secretary. (Boy, are they lucky they didn’t choose me, I was a lousy secretary in English.) Yesterday, with my friends off moving their kid to his new house, I checked to see how alive that fantasy was. You know… not very. I’m not only missing my husband, I’m missing his music and the community gathered around it. I miss my friends and the life we lead. I know the rhythms in this household very well, but they’re not mine. And I miss my work. I miss the joy of it, the challenge of it, and the pieces that make a difference.

Retreat and respite are lovely. I’m not looking forward to leaving, to opening my arms and letting these good friends step back. It’s so hard not knowing when I’ll get back. I know how privileged I am to have them at all. But it doesn’t make it easy to go, however excited I will be to have you all back in my life. I’m not really even anticipating coming home. But it has popped up in my mind, finally, that I will be going home and it will be fabulous.

In the meantime, I will keep enjoying Swedish Peace, drinking in every last jot of its beauty. I will also remember that it’s not my Peace — or perhaps that it’s not all my Peace. The full hearts of global citizenship have to be balanced with the knowing and the missing of friends and traditions… and you know me… food. Here’s to celebrating the Peace of each place and finding that Peace which calls our hearts most deeply. Here’s me, giving thanks.

Regular Peace, llvl

It’s nice, after lots of wonderful visits, to have some slow and “normal” days. Normal, at least, in their lives. Normal in the times I have been with them. Nothing sweeter or more intimate than to live beyond guest-hood and be invited into the life where projects are completed, trips to the hardware store are undertaken, where life is at is…

Looking at Deb Slade’s photo made me realize that they live one block from the river and one block from downtown. I live two blocks from the river and one block from downtown. Beauty and convenience at our fingertips… So their normal is somewhat familiar, although their two young men, one who’s arrived home and one who comes home on Friday are not MY normal. But fun and wonderful men, nonetheless… and somehow while I’ve been back and forth and away all these years, are grown ups! All my friends’ children have grown up. Imagine. And here we are, making new memories, making family!

The sweetness of life is in many things. These tiny things, the treasure of having these tiny moments, with dear friends. The connection with you all.

(It’s also in big things. I just found out that I have had a workshop accepted for a conference this fall. I’ll be exploring the Five Fold Goddess of Peace with Kelly Himmsl Arthur of Thinkpeace Workshops for Girls. Oh my!)

Time to inhale and exhale, with lots of tiny, unimportant places to go.

Swedish Sabbath Peace, llvl

This morning there is indeed Sabbath Peace in our hearts. Lorraine’s son called her about 11 last evening. He’d just seen his aunt’s post on Facebook. Her son was missing. He’d fought with his parents and stormed off. He was drinking, they knew that. He can’t drink on the medications he’s on, they knew that. He hadn’t shown up the evening before for an 11 o’clock meet at a concert.

What to do, what to do? They called. They posted on FB. People shared. His sister and her friends shared. The rest of us just hoped and prayed and willed best outcomes. But people came forward to comfort and to reassure. It’s happened to me, I’ve had that fear; yet it was ok.

Most of the time it is ok… but sometimes it isn’t. But there you were, willing to take a moment to think about a young man you’ll never meet and a frantic mom and dad. To hold your friend who holds her friends. Community, with the loosest of connections, but stepping up to be community.

So today, because of where I am and because of who you are, I’m counting blessings and giving thanks. For all the places we miss the mark, there are plenty where the arrow flies true. Thanks for being those well aimed friends. Love, it’s for everyone. Peace lies in our hands, which today were very capable. We must remember how capable we are!

Island Paradise Peace, llvl

I don’t think there’s any way around this. I think the Swedes are better at being still and in the moment than we are. It could be just me, but many of us, even on vacation are good at just sitting, delighting in the moment. The countryside is beautiful, but there’s beauty everywhere. I’d match my Central Susquehanna’s beauty against beauty anywhere.

One of the things I’ve recognized since I’ve been here is that I occasionally grab Paradise when I meet it. I sat and the stream with Emily and watched the world go by. I floated on the river on my Brother- and Sister-in-law’s boat when my friends came.

And maybe it was just because I’m here that people have taken more time to sit and admire the harbor or the forests, but I don’t think so. They’re on vacation. They’re out in Nature enjoying it. Not necessarily doing something, just being there. Passing around the slightly flavored water and sipping it slowly.

One afternoon, while visiting a sister and her beau, whose daughter and granddaughter were visiting as well, we all piled in the boat and boated around the island. Margita and the 6 year old pulled mackerel lines behind, once we got out on the ocean side of the island. Sophie, the daughter cut their heads off. Björn grilled the fish and we ate them for dinner 3 hours later. Paradise. The sight and taste of the sea. Sweet companionship. A quick stop for a dessert cheese which provided late-afternoon ice creams to tide us over to dinner.

And then the next morning, getting up and packing and then making the time to go down and slip into the sea, there just to bob around like so much flotsam, or is it jetsam, I always forget.

Paradise is here. It’s meant to be enjoyed. It’s meant to be shared. Peace, sweet Peace is in the still, sweet moments in between… (and it’s also, if you get the chance, to be found on islands off the coast of wherever you are. Or in the forests, or the mountains, or the deserts. Just sit and look at Mother Earth. Nature is there to be appreciated. Families are there to be made. Blessings are to be counted. Connections are waiting to slip into place!

Sacred Village

Building a World of Peace, Village by Sacred Village.

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