Pages, Words and Connection

Sunday afternoon, I plunged into Cornelia Funke's Inkheart. Your first task after reading and reflecting on this post, is to read that book.

I am the fourth person in my household to read the book, my husband and two older children read the book early summer and my 9 year old daughter and I are reading it together. The characters in the book love books, Funke makes you want to curl up with her book and reminds you of every treasured moment ever spent with the written word. As she lured me into her book, I became more aware of the connection between the words, the pages and people.

I am reading a library copy, which means the pages I turned are not the ones turned by my family, yet we are all connected. The words which spark my brain and dance in my mouth are the same words that sparked and danced for my family. We are connected through the knowing and saying of the story. Story belongs to everyone.

As I caress these pages, I can not help but think of all the people who held the book, curled on their sofas, lying on their beds, or sitting up right at a table. All those people young and old who fell into this story. I wonder how they reacted to the story, did the words tickle their tongues? Did they realize their conntection?

Community Justice System

Yesterday, I attended the orientation for volunteers in the Juvenile detention center. During the workshop, the volunteer coordinator described the center as a place to hold youth for the community. This struck a chord with me. I did not have an image of jail, where the people there had done something wrong and needed to repay their debt. (an assumption I held in my younger years) My image changed to a holding place for youth to contemplate and restructure themselves so that they may return to the community. I clearly see my role in the system to support youth in gaining key life-skills to be productive community members. This, of course, means we must examine the communities to which these youth return. How are we creating places to affirm their new skills and allow them to grow. Our society, as a whole, is failing on this level and I am here to make a change in that system.

This is by no means the end of my thoughts, just the beginning of the justice system and its relationship to communitysteading.

Compost

This week we began our permaculture adventure. We emptied one raised garden bed of stones and began to layer shredded paper and compost. Our goal is to build up the soil in that bed for a winter vegetable garden. I also started seedlings and today a tiny lettuce, basil, onion and radish sprout emerged. I was thrilled to see the seeds burst forth with life. Amazed, and I don't know why; really. I knew if I put a seed in proper soil with water and proper sun it will grow into a plant. I knew this in my head, but today the totality of my being experienced the thrill. Now, because my hands did the work, because the accomplishment has a direct impact on my life, because I worked in gentle cooperation with earth, I KNOW about seeds. It made me think of what resources I have to be a life affirming presence with earth.

Often as I think about life affirming, I think of the seeds; the bringing forth of life. As a mother that image serves me well. But today, as my hands communed with compost, I began to think of dying to new life. I often do not travel this road of thought. I only think of bringing more life or sustaining the life that is here. I do not think about what naturally passes in order to provide life sustenance to others. This is my image of God, the pouring out of life force so that all life may flourish. God dwells in the compost.

The compost is the retainer of past life and the possibility of new life, there is richness in compost that does not exist in other forms of soil. The compost has eons of memory. The compost knows what to do. I think of the places in my own life that hold memory, yet need to die in order to provide new life: what outdated modes of being, what anxiety can be let go, what anger held for decades can be released, not forgotten. But release so that their life may allow my new life to flourish.

Sacred Wholeness

I spent time this morning ruminating on the title I created for my work. Sacred Wholeness. Why?

I believe all life years to be whole, when we experience pain, discomfort, or disease it is our bodies telling us we are not moving into wholeness. I believe the wholeness is an innate natural state and we spend our lives remembering and recalling our wholeness, it is not something that is given or created. Wholeness is innate in life. Wholeness takes on a variety of forms, each life knows it's wholeness and may or may not look like another's. This is the genus and beauty of life on earth is it not?

Spiritually and Psychologically, all life is yearning to be in loving, life affirming relationship with other life and ecosystems within which it dwells. Our bodies know when we are not in this relationship. It is time we remember our capacity to be whole and to inspire and equip others to be whole.

Earth is continuously reminding us of the sacred wholeness of life. Earth continuously strives to heal and nurture, If only in our great capacities, Humanity will remember our related nature and our responsibility to use our intelligence wisely. If only humanity would rest so that earth can heal. This to me is a true form of Sabbath. There are so many brilliant people recalling their wisdom and moving to sacred wholeness, nurturing their family, friends and earth in a way to promote wholeness for all. I am humbled by the ways the spirit works in these people.

My prayer is that we continue to remember our wholeness, to grow in our wisdom, and to act from our sacred understanding.

Community Space

Refelecting on yesterday and the wonderful time I had with my family. I am pondering on the difference between community, public space and private space. After the Fair for Susatinable Communities hosted by the Communty Alliance for Global Justice, My family rode the bus to Bobby Morris playfield in Capital Hill. There were tons of people playing, resting, enjoying one another, eating, reading. All the things I do in my backyard behind my fences. I am a prety social person and others seem to know that, it is not unususal for people to come up to me and start talking. I ususually invite that. I did not have any people do that yesterday, but I became keenly aware of a different feeling in my body when resting and playing in the public space as opposed to resting in my yard. I felt connected, even though I did not join the boule game on the hill (honestly, I do not know if they would have allowed me to, I am just assuming I could have at least asked) I was still connected to their joy, and even though I did not sit an compassionatly listen to the man who apperaed to need a friend (he was in deep conversation with another man, which I interpreted as a need) I was connected to his life journey and search for wholeness, just becasue I was in the same space.

Now I am fortunate, my family rents and adorable house in old Bellevue, tiny and just right, with a HUGE back yard, hence the interest in sustanable home gardeneing. I have 5 children and I a committed to not driving our minivan. SO going to public space when I have a big back yard is sometimes a hassle, but as I write about how community is a necessity, I see the venturing to community space differenlty, it is not just something to shake up the home life, make it more fun. It is absolutly necessary to venture into, to maintain, to protect public space, God resides in the public arena, I invite every one to venture into the space of possibility, stretch your safe zone and come to know other. Erik Law would remind us this is the grace margin.