Bent on Kindness by Esther Nelson

Recently, with some fear and trepidation, I underwent spinal surgery.  When the surgeon visited me the day after my operation, he assured me that the procedure was a success, even though it will take several weeks to ascertain whether or not the surgery relieved my symptoms.  Healing from such a procedure takes time.

I have nothing but praise for the dozens of people responsible for my care during my six-day hospitalization.  Nurses, nursing care helpers, my surgeon along with the team in the operating suite, doctors-in-training, physical therapy workers, occupational therapy people, cleaning personnel, and the folks who regularly brought me healthy and delicious meals—all of them were respectful, empathetic, and kind.  And they were not kind just to me.  I overheard several hospital employees reply thoughtfully and considerately to a pugnacious patient in the room next to mine.

Continue reading “Bent on Kindness by Esther Nelson”

Productive Confusion by Sara Frykenberg

My experience of productive confusion, alternatively, shuffles categories. It breaks apart. It is life giving chaos; but god/dess does it FEEL loud (even though it often requires quiet). If I’m not surfing the internet, while watching a show, while having a glass of wine, I might have to hear my own thoughts. I might notice that my internal loudness is also a symptom of the institutionalized trauma, violence and oppression that works to keep me externally quiet.

My head is a little bit too full lately. My classes begin in two weeks and I am determined to create an “Intro to Christian Ethics” class that offers my students at least an idea about hope that resonates with them, if not with me. Trauma is both a daily reality for far too many of us, and the headline or undercurrent of nearly every news report. Images from popular media play against my desires, my training in feminist analysis and ideas about power and empowerment in endless abundance. And I am mothering a joyful three-and-a-half-year-old whose need for liveliness both challenges and taxes me, pushing me and putting me face to face with my own hopes and doubts.

I feel pulled in so many directions, so I get confused about where to start, what to write, or what to do. I am awash in input, goals, and distractions.

Yet, I have also been challenged lately to see my confusion as a retreat from responsibility. Continue reading “Productive Confusion by Sara Frykenberg”

Pain and Pausing, by Molly Remer

“I pin my hopes to quiet processes and small circles, in which vital and transforming events take place.”

—Rufus Jones

Last year in August, I wrote here at FAR about my own pattern of getting sick each July and 67552265_2390846147794260_5776927048312291328_othe steps I have been taking over the last three years to change that pattern for myself. This year in a surprisingly literal twist, I fell and hurt my ankle in June, and now, eight weeks later, am still recovering from that fall, thus inadvertently continuing my pattern of spending July of every year “out of commission.”

There is no dramatic story associated with my fall, I was quite literally just standing still on the front porch, waiting for my kids to open the front door after getting home from a Girl Scout meeting, when my foot slipped off the short front step and I came down hard on my ankle, twisting it beneath me at a 90 degree angle inward, as if I stepped down onto the end of my leg bone instead of my foot. I knew immediately that this was not a “normal” misstep or simple twist of the ankle, my leg hurt in a different and deeper way than I’ve ever experienced before, the swelling instantaneous and visible through my sock before I could even crawl inside. My husband Mark came running to help me and all I could say was, I think I’ve really, really hurt myself. Continue reading “Pain and Pausing, by Molly Remer”

Greenness, Whiteness, Blackness, and the Nature of the World by Marisa Goudy

There’s magic in hiking alone, but as women, we’ve been taught to worry about venturing far on our own. In fact, we’ve been taught to worry about a lot more than that.

Though once I merely shrugged off the warnings and the horror stories, confident that I was wrapped in some sort of “not me” protective veil, I don’t usually take my safety for granted anymore. Maybe it’s because I’ve outgrown the belief that I’m invincible. Maybe it’s because I’m a mother and have a different understanding of the fragility of life and the female body. Maybe it’s because that murderer on the Appalachian Trail went by the nickname “Sovereign,” appropriating the powerful, beautiful word that is so essential to my life’s work.

This particular day, however, my desire to be outside was more compelling than my new bend toward caution. I called my husband to tell him just where I’d be, joking that he needed to know where to look for me if I didn’t pick up the girls from camp on time.

Continue reading “Greenness, Whiteness, Blackness, and the Nature of the World by Marisa Goudy”

The Devil’s Bargain: “If You Can Convince a White Woman” by Carol P. Christ

This week’s news from America. Where to begin? When will it end?

The President of the United States is a racist who incites racist violence. Republicans have been slow to condemn the President and are not likely to pass a complete ban on assault weapons and to make those currently in circulation illegal.

After reading a speech condemning hate speech and gun violence that he obviously didn’t write, the President scheduled a round-up of brown people working in chicken-packing factories in Mississippi to coincide with his unsympathetic visits to the cities of Dayton and El Paso, where two recent mass killings by assault weapons occurred. The next morning, we were greeted by images of little children coming home from school in small towns in Mississippi to find their parents missing. We were told that none of the surviving victims of the El Paso shooting wanted to meet the President.

This is not the America I want. But it is the America that many Americans seem to want. I would like to think that women as a group reject the President and his agenda. Sadly, this is not true. Continue reading “The Devil’s Bargain: “If You Can Convince a White Woman” by Carol P. Christ”

On Va’etchanan: Do Not Murder, Rather Love by Ivy Helman

29662350_10155723099993089_8391051315166448776_oVa’etchanan (Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11) gives us pause for thought in its contradictions.  First, the parshah (Torah portion) contains the aseret hadibrot (Ten Commandments), among which is:  you shouldn’t murder (5:17). Then, pasukim (verses) 6:4-5 contain the shema (Hear O Israel! The L-rd is Our G-d.  The L-rd is One!) followed by the admonishment to: “love the L-rd, your G-d, with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your might,” (Deut. 6:4-5).  Finally, pasuk 7:2 instructs the Isrealites, upon entry into the Promised Land, to kill and “utterly destroy” the various groups of people living there.   

In other words, one is supposed to not murder.  One is reminded to love G-d.  And, then, G-d commands the Israelites to commit mass murder. I can’t help but think about the mass murders in the United States. Continue reading “On Va’etchanan: Do Not Murder, Rather Love by Ivy Helman”

Mid –Summer Musings: Lady in Waiting by Sara Wright

Yesterday at the Mid-Summer Turning I took a woodland walk in warm summer rain and then spent a quiet day at home. I visited with a few tadpoles and green frogs that inhabit my vernal pool, sat on the bridge and listened to the flow of water over stone at a woodland waterfall, a place so dear to my heart. I also spent quiet time reflecting…

For too long I have been a woman in waiting… waiting for diagnoses for myself and my dog, waiting for direction – I need to make a decision about where I am supposed to live – waiting for intuitive nudges, waiting for calls from loved ones that don’t come, waiting for this dark cloud to lift, praying for the power of the spirit and body of the earth to fill this empty vessel that has become who I am. Continue reading “Mid –Summer Musings: Lady in Waiting by Sara Wright”

Dancing at Lughnasa by Mary Sharratt

Summer passes all too swiftly. Just yesterday it was spring and the woods were full of bluebells and the hedges frothy with hawthorn. Then, only a few days ago, I noticed that the heather is already blooming. Rowan berries hang heavy and ripe on the trees. The hedges are abundant with hazelnuts. After the endless golden days of midsummer, the nights are drawing in again. And despite warm summer temperatures, my Welsh mare is already growing her winter coat. Continue reading “Dancing at Lughnasa by Mary Sharratt”

My Mystery School Experience–Facing Life Part II by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

This post builds on Facing Life Part I.

I love the concept of ancient mystery schools. I found a modern one in Maine in 1997. The mystery school experience allowed me to delve into life’s meanings and magic in a very visceral and personal way. In my youth, I had intensely studied and adored Greek myths. Through the activities of the school, I got to live the myths. I became my own hero. I got to do the work on transforming painful aspects of my life into my own personal wisdom teachings.

Fundamentally, mystery schools teach the lessons of Mama Nature in a very intimate and vital manner. Mother Nature, Herself, provides the original and powerful mystery teachings. These include lessons of spirit, creation, life/death/rebirth, oneness, and harmony. They also include fear, longing, love and blessing. Continue reading “My Mystery School Experience–Facing Life Part II by Janet Maika’i Rudolph”

Soulful Art in New York City by Judith Shaw

judith shaw photoThough temperatures outside were sizzling during the July heatwave in New York, I was cool inside the Frick Museum. Nearing the end of my visit I was standing by a rope that blocked entry to a curved stone staircase – I looked to my right, a stunning Renoir; I looked to my left, a resplendent Vermeer. Each expresses the essence, the sublime – one with misty intensity – the other with focused clarity. 

Continue reading “Soulful Art in New York City by Judith Shaw”