A photo taken by John, at the Beacon Hill Friends’ Meetinghouse.
September 2007
Soon we will be leaving for another anniversary adventure together. It’s a big one (15 years married!) so we set our sights high and are going cross-country. And I can’t wait! Traveling together with John is just SO FUN! He knows how to find the best food, the funkiest bookshops (with kitties!), and the most charming streets. Best of all, we will be encountering all of this together. (Oh, and we will be hanging out with some of you, our loyal friends and readers, along the way–woohoo!)
I came across this Yeats poem today and it touched me–I especially love the lines that read:
“But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.”
I’m so grateful that John continues to love this pilgrim soul of mine, and that I continue to delight and revel in his as well. :)
The acknowledgment of our weakness
is the first step in repairing our loss.
~Thomas Kempis
While I was at the Sunstone Symposium in August, sitting in a session about women and the Mormon church, I had to fight the urge to flee the room.
In sitting there I realized that the rationales, the angst, and the pain of gender inequity–those were the things that I’d been so relieved to leave behind when I stopped attending LDS church. Being confronted with them again was repulsive and pulled me back to that dark place where I’d been a few years ago: a sort of dark cave where I felt stranded. Where I couldn’t see how god could bless an institution that was so biased, so short-sighted. And at the same time afraid of the pain that would come to me and to my extended family should I choose to walk away.
As these thoughts ran through my mind I felt a pendulum of emotion shifting to and fro inside of me and I was on the verge of tears. And then I realized something about myself…I’m just not one of the “strong ones” who can continue on in the LDS church while being fully aware all of its flaws. My soul and my spirit just aren’t up for the task. I am too weak. Too fragile. I need a spiritual home where I am buoyed and supported and affirmed. The dissonance of being Mormon was literally ripping my spirit into pieces. I felt no hope there.
For me, the move to practicing as a Quaker is not just transferring my allegiance to a new religious institution. It’s about adopting a spiritual practice and community based on the yearnings of my heart and not based on my pedigree and my upbringing. It’s a choice for comfort and peace. It’s laying down the struggle of trying to fit into the LDS mold–the continued abrasiveness of being a square peg that can’t adapt to the expectations and orthodoxies of Mormonism. It’s about recognizing my own weakness and accepting it.
The Mormon founder, Joseph Smith, compared his spiritual journey to that of a rough stone rolling down a mountain. He saw each of his experiences as chipping away at himself, smoothing away his raw edges. Me, I’m not up for a similar trajectory, or perhaps my body has just had enough trauma. I’m seeking an angle of repose.
Let me quote from a favorite author who has walked a similar path:
Spirituality is solitary…At times, it is lonely, often informed by pain. On other occasions, it is the body submerged in a phosphorescent tide, every movement sparking a trail of illumination. Afterwards, we sit on the shore in moonlight. No candles are necessary. Spirituality exists when we are present, buoyed up by the waters of attention. We learn the courage of faith. It is peace that is earned. We can take solace in the heat of doubt knowing this is the pulse of poetry.
~Terry Tempest Williams, Leap (2000)
A provocative thought from Rumi, sent to me by a Friend today:
I tried to find Him on the Christian cross, but He was not there;
I went to the temple of the Hindus and to the old pagodas, but I could not find a trace of Him anywhere.
I searched on the mountains and in the valleys, but neither in the heights nor in the depths was I able to find Him.
I went to the Kaaba in Mecca, but He was not there either.
I questioned the scholars and philosophers, but He was beyond their understanding.
I then looked into my heart, and it was there where He dwelled that I saw Him;
He was nowhere else to be found.
-Jalaluddin Rumi, poet and mystic (1207-1273)
CatGirl squealed when she heard that her beloved Shakespeare & Co bookshop kitty has gone missing! Oh No!
I found this sign via a new fav site, Paris Daily Photo.
Other favorite French blogs include Paris Parfait, An American in Provence and Le Divan Fumoir Bohemien. Each gaves a daily ‘taste’ of France along with spectacular photography! Enjoy! :)
Was in air conditioning for most of the day as I ran errands (hooray for AC, thumbs down to errands):
-filled up the gas tank
-dropped by school to pick up some paperwork
-oil change at the car dealer (opted not to get the $700+ suggested repairs. thinking of jettisoning the car altogether…)
-bus passes for kids (geez, they charge each family hundreds of dollars for schoolbus service!)
-art store
The latter was the very funnest errand. Bought some random art supplies for little projects I’ve been dreaming about. Will report back on any success….
;)
Next week I’ll be vacationing in Boston (woohoo!).
Please send tips for must-see places, great cafes, and your favorite bookshops. Drop me a line if you’re in the Boston area and would like to arrange a meet-up, ok?
Also, any advice on using public transportation? And how safe is public transport and/or walking around the city (esp the Beacon Hill/Boston Commons area) after dark?
My Labor Day was chock-full of labor (and HEAT–the hottest day so far this month!).
We are oh-so-close to being fully unpacked now. Today we learned that the track shelving that was going to store so much of our stuff was not meant to be–there were no wall studs anywhere near the only place we could hang it and drywall anchors just pulled right out as soon as shelves were laid on the tracks. Ah well. We’ve found places for nearly everything anyways. :)
When I put clean sheets on the bed today I replaced our typical white matlesse spread with a spread of pale peach silk (made from some remnants given to me by a friend awhile back). I am hoping that sleeping in silk will somehow make this hotter-than-hades night bearable….
Note: this hibiscus photo is from a hike up a hill (the only place to park my car!) in Laguna Beach last weekend. LB has the loveliest cottage gardens!! :)
Yesterday during Meeting there was an earthquake.
It being SoCal, that wasn’t so unusual. But it was my first earthquake with the Friends. We were sitting in our simple circle of chairs, in silence, when the building began to shake. There were a few pops and creaks. Though no one spoke, I could feel a tension in the room, as if each person was fully aware and ready to move if necessary. (note: we meet in an old building in the historic district of downtown Santa Ana. I do not feel very secure about the structural integrity of the building)
My first thoughts were of the children in the adjacent room. My body was poised to spring out of my seat and go to them if and when the quaking became more intense.
But it turned out to be just a small quake, not even enough to jostle our chairs. After the windows ceased rattling the peace returned to the Meetingroom. I realized that my breathing had become much more forced, even panicked. I sat back in my chair and calmed myself and returned to meditation.
At the end of the Meeting, when the silence was broken, a few Friends commented on the quake. One noted, quite simply, that if the shaking had been any worse, we probably should have moved to the side of the room opposite from the windows.