Sunday, April 29, 2007


So I just caught myself gazing affectionately at my incredibly cute, incredibly friendly, obedient, loyal, gentle, fun, snugly dog. I have had this feeling lately of discovering her for the first time, which is weird because back when I worked part time she followed me from room to room and sat at my feet while I worked at home, and I felt just this same way. So why this feeling of discovering a new friendship? Today I realized that she has been eclipsed by my son when he was a baby, like the moon comes between earth and sun sometimes. When you lap is always full of baby, there is no room for dog... incredibly cute, incredibly friendly, obedient, loyal, gentle, fun, snugly Dog. A blessing and a friend.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007


In an hour I will be performing a memorial service for a dear woman at the church who always was kind and present with me and with my son. I have had this feeling of dread about the service for a few days now that has become quite acute. As any minister will tell you, being asked to perform a memorial is a tremendous honor. It is during such times that you get a glimpse of what is real and important about living and dying. But there is no getting around the fact that when people gather to remember one who has died, the room is filled with powerful emotion. It is hard to prepare myself to be with my own grief and the grief of the community. When I pull on my robe and walk into that room I will have to admit (on some level which my grief has not yet reached) that she is really gone.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Muir Woods

I made a final pilgrimage to Muir Woods, wanting my son to see it before we headed east. I asked if he wanted to go on a hike- to which he responded emphatically NO. So I asked if he wanted to go on a photo-walk to see plants as old as dinos, and that he was interested in.

I wondered if it would feel as magical as it did that first time, even with the rain and cold, and it was truly magical. My friend who studies Traditional Chinese Medicine assured me there is something about trees that can absorb the toxic energy of anger and stress. It sounded reasonable to me; if they can make food out of our old CO2, why not our anger as well?

So lovely it was to be in such verdure, so many shades of green, so lush, so fertile. So lovely to be surrounded by good friends gaping at Mother Nature's artistry, and breathing the clean moist air.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Spring is colder than you think

Seriously. I remember being a little kid and getting some cute puffy sleeved Easter dress and then having to wear a giant coat and boots with it. I always forget that the whole deal with spring being a transitional season is that it is having a winter/summer identity crisis. For every unseasonably warm day there is usually an unseasonably cold day. Maybe next spring I'll remember.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

My Creek

This is the creek I told you about back on February 6. Can you believe it's cement-lined? The little black dot way in the back is one of "our" ducks. We look for our ducks every day when we walk to school or the park. Today the water was so clear we could see the shadows of fish swimming. Friday I saw one of those amazing big white egrets. What a way to start the day.

Neighbor Trees

Today I went for a walk with my 5 year old son and his friend-from-across-the-street. I took pictures of some of my favorite trees I will miss when we move.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Cycles and Systems

"We are part of multiple overlapping systems that we are not aware of" a colleague of my said years ago, and it rings in my mind today. I remember noting to myself a few springs ago that spring is not as easy as it looks- the bright sun and cheery flowers convince the mind that all is well, but the body has a hard job with this major changes of temperature, light, bits of things floating in the air, and the change of seasonal food.

(By the way, the blackberries this year are the best I've ever had. Eat some now before they fade!)

The emotional body follows along, uplifted by the growing light, confused by the body's transitions. So maybe what I'm feeling right now is just spring.

But I've also noticed that each year our congregational system shows considerable anxiety each spring as our Annual Meeting approaches. We have to approve a budget, and no matter how much money we raise, we always raise more great ideas about how to spend it. We have to elect new officers, and the worry that we won't fill all those slots disturbs the sleep of those who have to fill them. Congregational leaders have been working hard all year, and may be tired or burned out. Their term ends in April and we prepare for the transition of elected leaders in May. This year in particular the congregation and I are anticipating our impending separation. So maybe the weirdness I feel is from being part of that congregational system.

And moreover, we finally closed on our house. We went out to celebrate at the NICE sushi place. But within a day or two all 3 of us had weird tummy trouble and a hard time sleeping. (Even our dog seemed to have troubled dreams).

So do I feel the way I do because of the seasonal transition, congregational transition, family transition or personal transition, or are there other cycles and systems effecting me that I am not even aware of?

Really I'd just like to go through all these transitions without feeling any grief or discomfort. Is there something I can take for that?

Monday, April 09, 2007


Now that all the Geraniums have been stripped away from the base of a giant Mulberry tree in our front yard, I am seeing the roots anew each time I enter the house. They have such wonderful curves and bends to them. I fact, a lot of the trees in our neighborhood have cool roots.

Then I started looking at my feet last week in yoga, how the bones and tendons remind me of the exposed roots of an old tree. Feet are cool too.


Dear Baggers of the world,
The reason I bring canvas bags to your store is not so much that they are sturdy, and hold a lot of stuff, or that I get $.05 back. It's really about how I hate waste, and I hate coming home with a fistful of brand new plastic bags that I then immediately have to put out in recycling. The reason I bring my veggies loose to the checkout is the same. My spinach does not need it's own private bag, that twist tie holds it together fine. My shampoo also does not need it's own plastic privacy. If it really creeps you out to have spinach and shampoo touching, feel free to give each her own canvas bag. I brought 10; there are plenty to go around.

The same I implore of the good folks at the drive-through. The Salad you gave me was already hermetically sealed in a plastic shell. I only ordered one item; I'm okay without a bag.

It appears that your training strongly emphasized the value of using the largest number of containers per customer, (I too know what it is like to receive bizarre instructions from a trainer) but I invite you to join me in an underground rebellion against the proliferation of bags. What corporate doesn't know won't hurt them.

Ginger Root

Monday, April 02, 2007

Guide Mama

Recently I got asked to be a God Mama, or more precisely, a "Guide Mama."
It was this totally amazing un-expected thing to be asked.

It was particularly amazing because my son has 2 fabulous God Parents. God Mama lives 3000 miles away and thankfully is the ultimate pen pal (since she was in Elementary School. She was precocious that way.) God Papa is nearby and is so present and engaged whenever he and the boy are together. He has such a wonderful enthusiasm for the whole thing.
And I just kind of took them for granted- of course they would be great godparents.

But now I've been asked to be a God Mama, and got a neurotic rush of performance anxiety. I mean baby (I) has only one God Mama, and I don't want to let her down. And a God Parent is for life, right? That's the whole point. It's very unique to be bound for life by a promise to another person, especially one you have just met.

I can't wait to take her to an Ashram when she turns 14.