Sweet Little Home Peace

I’m back spending the night in a little house in Oakland that I lived in for quite a few years. It’s a wonderful house, with wonderful friends, and great memories.

When I woke up this morning, I rolled over and stared at the ceiling and remembered. Ah that ceiling. I remember when I moved in. Jenn was out of town on business for another week and Erik was here helping me move.

We sat on my sofa and looked at the room and thought. Wow, what a beautifully proportioned room. I still think that. It’s a pleasing house, with great lines and wonderful tucked in glass cabinets in the dining room… It has an interesting history… and holds interesting history for me!

I’m so lucky to be able to come back and visit my past and feel at home here. The house is cozy and so are my friendships. Nice. Peace…

Fires! Drought! Peace?

Forest fires happen in this region. It’s part of the cycle. You know that when you see the pine cones opened so the seeds can spread. Some cones open only during fires. Some of the first green you see in burnscapes are itty bitty trees.

So knowing that, and building houses in forests, you know you’re taking your chances. I remember watching people helicopter in supplies to build a house and thought… hmmm if the truck can’t get in to bring the lumber, how does it get in to bring the water?

I get living in the forest with all the dark and green. Being a Pennsylvania girl where there are lots of forests, I understand the allure. And there one of the biggest problems is mold in your house. But this is not Pennsylvania. And even there there are dangers.

But now we’re in escalating cycles of drought in California. And the building doesn’t stop. It hasn’t stopped in the forests and it hasn’t stopped in large subdivisions that further tax the water system.

Everyone I know is flushing less frequently and taking fewer and shorter showers, but we all know… the brick in the toilet will not be what saves the land or the people.

California’s a mecca … people are going to come. Somehow, everyone is going to need to do something about global climate change. It’s our challenge. We worry constantly about our relationship to our friends and family, let’s learn to communicate better in our relationship with the Earth, shall we?

Peace will come from our accepting our responsibility.

Mercy, Compassion, Peace

It’s a lovely story — the Bodhisattva paused while entering heaven, heard the cries of the miserable, and returned to Earth so that she could help all beings find their way…

She helps women get pregnant, she has a place for those women who choose not to have a family. She is Artemis, she is Tara, she is Mary, she is the softness toward which we yearn when our hearts need comfort.

This Sangha in San Diego is gorgeous. There are Buddhas all over, but back in the heart of the grounds is a tall and lovely statue of Quan Yin. It’s right around the corner from my friend’s house. He walks there in the morning and the evening. Reports are it was glorious under the full moon, all those alabaster statues gleaming! And the garden was indeed ripe and flowering there!

This part of San Diego is very mixed. Vietnamese, Hmong, Mexican. And it’s residential… I love the fact that Our Lady of Kazan is right down the street… an orthodox church.

But this is a huge Sangha and people come from all over to visit. They own the houses around it and the nuns and priests live there. (The houses are all craftsman cottage neatly adorned with plants and flags. So SoCal!).

And then, apparently, there’s Tet — Vietnamese New Year. Huge throngs of people come in buses… Because Buddha. Because Quan Yin.

May Mercy and Compassion guide us. May they bring us Peace. May we bring Peace.

Peace in a Dry Land

What does Peace look like in a drought? What is it in the midst of climate change?

The issues are far more complicated than i understand.

But when people are carefully saving their warm up water for the shower and you see field after field of fruits to be made into leisure drinking and tourism…

It’s good that we change how we use water in our households and a shower a day is a luxury that’s not necessarily good for our bodies or the land.

But shorter showers don’t offset a vineyard.

Shorter showers don’t mean there’s water to fight fires. There are 22 of them in CA now. They’re just trying to save the houses built in the middle of forests and brush and letting the forests burn. Now, Nature seems to like fires; some trees only spread their seeds through fire… And yet — Lives have been lost fighting the out of control fires.

And more wineries are going in. CA is going to become the medical marijuana center of the world: another high water crop.

And I know it’s easy to come in from the outside and have an opinion… even when it’s reflection upon coming back home…

But what I see is land in need. I’m not seeing how the drought is affecting poor communities, but i have people to see before i come home who are working in them — and some people who have a bigger economic view than i ever have.

I say this not because I’m going to make any difference in the drought in CA but because I want some balance and understanding so I can work effectively for change where I live. Knowledge is power. And balance is not always my strongest suit…

Peace has so many facets. and Mother Earth is both powerful and fragile. Both need our helping hands!

Porches of Peace

I’ve written about screen porches, and I’m just as delighted by deep shady porches where you and your book can linger out of the sunlight — even if you have to keep on the move! (they’re particularly nice in regions where there are no mosquitoes.)

This one is covered in wisteria and the sun just wiggles its way through the leaves to cast beautiful moving patterns on the ground. It’s owned by my friends Julie and Bill and is located out in the wine country. It’s beautiful with deep comfortable chairs and a table to gather around.

It was fun at the same time to be reading a book by a friend… on Holy Identity. Life. It’s rich…

And at the same time it was all lovely breezes for me, I’m in the middle of a sere and worn landscape. Climate change: we must do something. And the whole region is planted in one crop… wine. what will happen when the soil fails. What will happen when we keep failing our Mother the Earth?

Peace. It must be of our making, whether it’s the creation of sweet porches or the hard work to curb human excess… Peace — in our hearts and then our hands.

Traveling Peace

This is the place in the summer where I celebrate how lucky I am — and not only because it’s swimming season!

I’m visiting friends and family all over CA. Friends from Sweden, friends from when I lived here, family from when I got married, friends from living back East. Sweet, satisfying visits (with lots of fresh vegetables and talk npr on the way from one house to the next!)

It’s sort of like heaven. All these people are people I love. Many are people I think with. and some, like EG are just bonuses. what a delight. and what a blessing! Thinking. Reading. Loving. yes! Lucky, lucky me.

But oooh, the traffic. Gotta love rural central PA.

But meanwhile. I’m having fun. How about you?

Love brings a lot of Peace, in so many ways!

I hope it brings you some. Start Loving! Start Peacing! Yahoo!

Lammas Celebrations! Sabbath Peace! Oh, boy!

In-gatherings!

A friend reminded me that the ancient celebrations were more approximate. You didn’t stop to celebrate in the middle of the harvest. You didn’t grind the flour until the wheat was out of the field and threshed.

I love this celebration in the middle of the hot spell. Back home, there’s corn, tomatoes and blueberries. How much sweeter can summer get?

Out here? there are grandchildren, swimming pools and tomatoes. May in fact be sweeter.

And today, another beautiful summer Sabbath, spent with them. Full moons and hot summers. Sacred. Joyous. yeahhhhhhhh.

Hurrah! Peace be with you all.

Blues Chords and Peace over Sacramento

How odd… the woman who’d written to me a couple weeks ago saying, it sure would be nice to see you, then posted: I’m playing in Sacramento. There I was sitting in San Diego at that time, knowing I would be less than a hundred miles away on that day.

So here I am sitting in my hotel room after the concert laughing at how things work out.

I love EG’s music and I adore her. And it was fun to watch a whole new bunch of folk fall in love with the Georgia Songbird under the rising Full Moon. Such a beautiful, beautiful evening.

There she was with a band she’d never heard of just killing her songs! It was great. A few simple blues chords and some fascinating lyrics and the music poured out of those players. That’s the thing about music. It starts with something simple and becomes something magical.

That’s the thing about Peace. It starts with something simple, and, in the hands of the deep-hearted, becomes something magical. Players, giving Peace a chance.

And tomorrow I get to have breakfast with my college buddy. It’s a small world. And I like it like that! And after that? Grandchildren! (and their fabulous parents!) Peace? of a noisy, laughing kind!

Viewshed Peace

Viewshed was a new word for me yesterday. I’d never seen it before. Here you go (Wikipedia)

“A viewshed is the geographical area that is visible from a location. It includes all surrounding points that are in line-of-sight with that location and excludes points that are beyond the horizon or obstructed by terrain and other features (e.g., buildings, trees).”

And there i was on a mountain, that claimed, the last time I was there, to have one of the best in the world, and now ‘fesses up to being simply a great one.

It was easy to see that this vast bowl beneath it had been an ancient sea. And in fact, it’s fairly common to find shell fossils toward the base. It was sacred to the the Native Americans in this area, who were sadly captured and forcibly Christianized. There is speculation that people ran away from the Christian settlement and they were never recovered. The friars agreed they’d absconded to the devil… hence the name Diablo… But there are other thoughts as well…

These days it’s filled with ritzy homes in some places and wind farms in another.

But the view also looks to the Sierra on one side and off to the coastal mountains on the other.

It’s a gorgeous view of a landscape I came to cherish and know a bit when I lived here. It was also a stark reminder of the drought conditions as you look around. Supposedly the ocean is warming which is a signal of an el nino year… which would mean a lot of rain and a little bit of hope for this drought-stricken state. May it be so. As it is, the mountain is filled with stark reminders of wildfires. One the one hand, the pines here only give up their seeds in a fire. On the other people have crowded around and there is not water to fight the fires that rage across the mountain. It’s dangerous.

May the Peace of rain fall on this austere beauty and bring it back to life. At the same time, may the people of this beautiful state understand how very fragile this landscape and their living on it is, and may they live more lightly on the Mother. May we all live more lightly on the Mother.

Turkey Peace

It was such a silly moment. A yard full of turkeys where I hadn’t expected to see them. In all the years I’d lived around here, I’d certainly never seen a live turkey, but then I lived in a city — and who sees turkeys in cities (other than at watering holes and meetings, padumpum)

And then to do the research and find out that they’re in 49 of the 50 states. (Five sub-species in the US.) The same question asked of Google didn’t give a similar stat on eagles, but there are a whole lot fewer eagles.

Sort of an interesting thought to reconsider the Franklin suggestion that the turkey be the national bird. There they were, waddling around in a congress, adults and juveniles. And eagles have huge solitary territories. — This just in: Oh, Man… a myth… Franklin never suggested it. Better google late than never. Here’s an excerpt from his letter to his daughter. (find the article here):

“For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. You may have seen him perched on some dead Tree near the River, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing Hawk; and when that diligent Bird has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the Support of his Mate and young Ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him and takes it from him.

With all this injustice, he is never in good case but like those among men who live by sharping & robbing he is generally poor and often very lousy. Besides he is a rank coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America who have driven all the King birds from our country…

“I am on this account not displeased that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turkey. For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America… He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.”

Caught! well, better sooner than later! Better I should figure it out than you and have to say… hey… Ann…

But turkeys may have stuff to teach us, if only about sticking together.

One way or another, there they were… filled with Peace on a very hot afternoon. And they made me laugh as they waddled slowly, proudly away.

Sacred Village

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