Faith and Nature

Archive for the ‘faith’ Category

I’m on the train to Bakersfield. Grey skies, and light rain when I boarded at Martinez. From Bakersfield I’ll rent a car and spend a couple of days looking for wildflowers. Word is that the Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve is looking the best it has in a few years.

Normally I’d say that the scenery from the train is not all that interesting, but today I find everything interesting, like a little kid seeing the world for the first time. We’ve just left Modesto; non-descript housing tracts, levees and farms, abandoned vehicles in yards, grain elevators. I see photos everywhere. Perhaps just the act of traveling without the distraction of driving leaves me open to see more possibilities. And most of the architecture is mundane, agrarian or industrial; not subjects I would normally look at for artistic possibilities, but they all make a statement. Life is artful, Art life-full. It’s not about what’s happening outside, it’s about what’s happening inside. It’s about having an open heart and an open mind to see the world with a new possibilities. I think that in itself is artful living. Or perhaps I’ve just had too much coffee. What do you think?

(Written on April 24,  posted on May 2)

One thing I haven’t done much lately is sit still, which is probably why this image I intended to post for Saint Patricks Day is just now getting posted.  This image by the way was captured in Killarney National Forest in Ireland.

And as for sitting still, today though, I’m laying on the couch with a bag of ice on my right knee and doctors orders to be a “couch potato.” It almost a blessing in a way.  But then, here I am with my laptop, preparing work for clients, and catching up on some of my marketing tasks.  It seems my right knee has been giving me some discomfort, so let’s hope the arthroscopic proceedure will get me back on my feet in short time. Meantime, I’m going to permit myself to be waited on, I’m going to slow down and count it a blessing to have quiet time.  And just for good measure, here’s  link to some photos of a recent snow camping trip with a panorama of Lake Tahoe .

So here it is for those of you that missed the cake cutting on Saturday. I asked a friend of mine, Kuczynska Kuczynska of What the Cake, to create a cake that would represent a mountain scene with a stream, trees and a campsite. I think her creation was quite amazing. I’m calling the mountain Mount Fondant. What do you think? I cut the first piece with trepidation. It seemed a travesty to destroy a piece of art, but once we got to munching on the moist fluffy cake it was hard to stop. And for those of you who were here, I want to thank you for joining me in rolling the “odometer” over to a new year. Can I stop counting now? I’m still in denial that I’ve reached the 60 mark. This past year has been challenging on many fronts, and I feel like I’ve been thrust into the crucible, where one is forced to examine what is of value and what is not. And what shows up is that when I stop and give up my own selfish desires and ambitions and pay attention the world around me life works. For most of my life it has been about me. My photography, my goals, my ambitions, my desires to travel and see the world. Now it’s time to stop and listen. To listen to friends, to listen to family members, to listen to the trees, to listen to the mountains, to listen to the weeds growing in the yard. Like Brother Lawrence who was content to practice the presence of God.

I walk before God simply, in faith, with humility and with love; and I apply myself diligently to do nothing and think nothing which may displease Him.

Join Jan Steffe and me for a six week course titled Finding Joy and Generosity in Creation.  The class will look to the natural world and our experiences within it to better understand living with joy and generosity while surrounded by pain and scarcity. In response, we hope to rejoice in our responsibility and commit to generously caring for the resources with which God as entrusted us. The course will be offered at First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley, 2407 Dana Street, Berkeley, CA,  starting Sunday January 10,  2010 at 11:30.  You can download the Winter Institute Program here, or register for the class here.

There’s a blustery fall wind blowing today, and wispy clouds, with a sense of foreboding. Change is in the air. Sycamore leaves reel down the street doing cartwheels driven by the wind, and the Chinese Pistache trees are turning color. Here’s an image taken while walking I was out walking the dog a couple or days ago.  There are two trees that catch the later afternoon sun and look ablaze.

As I walk up a neighboring street I see pumpkins on front porches. The apples on my apple tree are just about all picked. They’ve been sliced and dried or cooked and frozen to enjoy as savory hot apple sauce on a cold winter’s day. Fall is about change, and the coming adversity of winter. I found this quote from Arthur Golden

Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are.

Where does  one find sacred spaces? Do you have to travel to some awe inspring location, or are there sacred places closer to your heart?  Does the grandeur of Yosemite Valley inspire a sense of sacred?  How about the lofty vastness of a cathedral or a mosque?  What about more mundane places?

I met recently with a friend of mine, a dancer with whom I am  collaborating on a dance and photography project, you can see some examples of the kind of work we’ll be creating here. We come from different cultures and religious traditions but we seem to share a common ground when it comes to understanding faith.

We stumbled onto a discussion of spirituality and sacredness. I found myself asking the question “what if everything around us is sacred, the coffee cups from which we were drinking, the table, and even our words?” What if even the profane words we speak are sacred?

What about socks hanging on the close line? I’m reminded about a the Carmelite Monk, brother Lawrence who is celebrated for his thoughts in a book Practicing the Presence of God.

I walk before God simply, in faith, with humility and with love; and I apply myself diligently to do nothing and think nothing which may displease Him.”

He was known for his profound peace and many came to seek spiritual guidance from him.

So what would happen if we treated everything as sacred? Would we be more mindful of the words that come out of our mouths? Would we treat our fellow human beings with more respect and dignity? Would we have more respect for the resources we extract from the planet? What do you think?

So once again I find myself on the water, contemplating the peace and solitude of Tomales Bay on a beautiful weekend. We loaded the boat with camping gear and paddled from Nicks Cove to our favorite camping spot at Pelican North Beach, set up camp, and with paddled up the Peninsula, out the entrance to the bay and out to Tomales Point, where the calm of the bay gave way to the ocean swells which were rolling under us.  I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes about boating, from Kenneth Grahame and his book The Wind in the Willows

Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing- absolutely nothing- half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.

When we turned around to paddle back into the Bay we discovered that some of the swells were starting to feel bottom on rising rather steeply. We had a rather thrilling ride down one wave, which was starting to break on both sides of the boat.  I had a strong and fearsome sense that I was not in control, that all I could do was guide the boat and let the forces of nature carry me along.  Sometime I think I could live with a stronger sense of grace if I could apply that to other areas of my life. Admit that I am powerless, that there is a power greater than me to which I must submit.  And to let that power carry me along, rather than try to assert my own agenda.

Click here to view more paddling photos.

I slide my paddle into the calm water, rotate my torso and the boat moves forward, gliding silently.  Not a sound. The fog is starting to clear. Or is it? There are four of us in three boats. We’ll paddle down the Estero to Drake’s beach where’s well have lunch and watch the wildlife. You can view more photos on Photoshelter or Flickr.

I equate kayaking with hiking. It’s like taking a hike on the water, except your legs don’t move much. In a sense, you wear a kayak, it becomes an extension of your body, or at least that’s the case in a single kayak, the two companions in the double have a different experience, but in either case we cover the distance to the beach with ease.  We keep looking for the beach to appear through the fog. The fog lifts a bit and I think I see the beach, or is it just the next bluff? And there, those birds must be on the beach, but no that’s just a sandbar.  Like much in life, we have to be diligent about maintaining our sense of direction, and proceed with patience and diligence. And I ran across this quote recently that I thought was appropriate.

And so in time the rowboat and I became one and the same–like the archer and his bow or the artist and his paint. What I learned wasn’t mastery over the elements; it was mastery over myself; which is what conquest is ultimately all about.

by Richard Bode

There is something about moving water in a stream that fascinates me.  The fluid motion, the reflections, the colors.  And to enjoy it as it exists without alteration or interpretation. I think there is much to learn from simply meditating on such small wonders. They teach us more about God’s creation than we might want to admit. In more worldly affairs it often seems we want to re-make, re-create, reform in our own image.  We’re never content with what is and we filter everything through our interpretation of how we would wish it to be. With this in mind  I was struck recently by a few words in the August CIVA e-News.  The editor Linda Stratford, in following up about a recent conference quotes the plenary speaker, Miroslav Volf  saying that:

we must resist the temptation to reshape society in the image of the heavenly Jerusalem. Instead, according to the model of 1 Peter, we are to live out Christian difference within our given environments.

The temptation to “hijack Jesus” in the process (to borrow a phrase from Volf) is real; so is the temptation to disconnect from the environment.

What are your thoughts?

Balinese figure of a lion

As some of you may know my life is in transition. Some of the things I’ve held onto in the past no longer serve me and with the help of some powerful coaching, I am reawakening to some things I seem to have lost. Part of my journey at the moment is connecting with people, be it old friends, new friends, aquaintances, mentors, or understudies.  At an event I attended a week or so ago directed to job seekers I heard the following quote which seemed to meet me right where I am on my journey:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.  We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?  Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of GOD.  Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won’t feel insecure around you.  We are all meant to shine, as children do.  We were born to make manifest the glory of GOD that is within us.  It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.  And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

by Marianne Williamson from her book:  A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles