Feeding the Birds
The Subtle Delights of Feeding the Birds
At the beginning of the pandemic, we purchased a bird feeder. We looked around, as many of us have while being home, and embarked on several nesting and home improvement projects. The task which most changed our back yard environment was having drainage put in from the back yard to the street. We had struggled with persistent flooding every time it rained. It turned the back yard into a swampy mess for days until it dissipated. But installing the bird feeder added so much to the feeling of peaceful enjoyment of nature right outside our window.
Taking Notice
Sometimes a mistake is a revelation
I was scrolling through my photos the other day and came upon this picture. I was ready to delete it as a mistake when I looked at it closer. It spoke to me – the world moving so rapidly that things don’t come into focus, movement, running – and the notion of movement brought me to thoughts of Jon. Everything in autumn reminds me of Jon, especially the month of November – he ran a marathon just after being diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes when he was 19, and on November 14, 2011, he completed the Run Across America in relay with Team Type 1. The plaque he received says it all – “In recognition of your dedication to empower and advance the lives of those affected by diabetes by demonstrating all that is possible.” Jon remained so very proud of this accomplishment for the rest of his life.
Spirals
Diving Down
Despair is an undercurrent for me. There are triggers everywhere that cause me to lose possession of my emotional control. A few days ago, I realized that the coronavirus restrictions and natural cautiousness will take away our traditional Thanksgiving gathering this year. I’m not sure why I had not processed this fully before then. The reality of it struck me with a force that felt like a blow to my chest. I became teary with the realization, and all of my tamped-down grief was stirred up like dirt in a windstorm.
The Opposite of Rumination
Quiet Focus
Today I am trying to practice quieting my mind. To me, to be meditative is the very opposite of rumination. Contemplation and daily gratitude keeps my depression and worry at bay, and I take care to start each morning in the practice of these things. If I break the act of noticing down to a micro level, magic tends to appear before me and God’s presence is revealed. The veins of a fallen leaf with the sun shining through it, the lovely surprise of a painted rock placed in the forest for a stranger to find, a poem which perfectly identified a feeling I had, the sweet church bells we hear in our yard, or the pure energetic joy of our golden retriever running in the morning on our daily walks are in my focus this morning.
Autumn Magic
Earliest Fall Leaves
On our walk this morning, the dark, moist forest floor was lit by scattered bright yellow leaves. The air was chilled and damp and the forest felt as though it was exhaling, with serenity and forbearance. The colors in the trees seem to be fading this year, to a muted greenish yellow. We plan on taking a day hike up to the north Georgia mountains again soon to catch some of the early colors on the rolling hills.
Broken and Redeemed by Grace
Broken to Let the Light in
It is interesting that the quote including “broken to let the light in” is variously and erroneously attributed to either Leonard Cohen or to Ernest Hemingway, but was actually derived (knowingly or not) from Rumi. The source is “Let a teacher wave away the flies and put a plaster on the wound. Don’t turn your head. Keep looking at the bandaged place. That’s where the light enters you. And don’t believe for a moment that you’re healing yourself.” That last sentence is key. We are redeemed by the light of grace.
a Different Grief Model
Psychology of Coping with Grief
In 1969, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross published her book On Death and Dying, and we all became familiar with it’s stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. In 1999 an alternate theory of the psychology of grief was published by Stroebe and Schut called the Dual Process Model of Grief. This theory is that grieving actively moves between
Loss Orientation
and
Restoration Orientation.
The Big Yes
Learning to Think
In school, I was taught how to think. Discerning the different sides of an argument was considered to be the apex of thought. I was hungry for learning and expanding my knowledge, and I have read voraciously all my life. Thinking and reading led me to being a bit of a rebel. I wanted to figure things out for myself. Some of my heroines were feisty women, women who sought change and strove towards justice. One of the defining hallmarks in this questing for knowledge is to always question, always think through a problem to find your answer.
Undoubtedly, I had questions about my faith as well. Seeking answers about life philosophies and reading widely about different people and differing cultures, I tried on strange and intriguing ideas. Questioning different aspects of theology that I found confusing and even upsetting was how I thought about my faith for many years, although I always called myself a Christian. Casual, yes, but still a Christian.
Living Purposefully and with Gratitude
Living my True Life Took Time
In my working life, I remember many seminars and classes where the participants were asked to define their purpose, their path or their goals. These were intended to help people clarify these things as they pertained to work, but I would always drift to my true inner goals and dreams. I had always wanted to write. I saw myself most of all as an author or a poet. So, when the time came for me to use my poster board to create the expected professional goals, I would fabricate the desired responses with the required enthusiasm. Inside I rebelled. I was like Mel Gibson at the end of Braveheart, screaming “Freedom!”