Month: June 2012

The Vanishing Lake and Chasing Wild Geese

On By MaryIn laughterLeave a comment

Once upon a time in a place far from here and close to my heart, right in the heart of New Jersey, there was a beautiful lake.  It was in the middle of a lush field of wild flowers, just on the edge of a glade of willow trees at the base of a gently sloping mountain.  In the spring that lake was one of the most beautiful sights you could imagine with all of the flowers in bloom. And in the fall when the leaves were turning, it could take your breath away.  We use to love to swim there. And fish! Some of the best eatin’ fish ever were caught right there in that lake.

Well, one November a flock of wild geese came and landed on the lake. It was the biggest flock of geese I’ve ever seen. There were so many of them, that when they landed, you could hardly see the lake for all of the geese.  Just as those geese settled down on the lake and started to fish and swim around the temperature dropped like a marble off a sky scraper. It just plummeted, and the lake froze into a solid block of ice with all the geese still in the water.  Those geese were so scared; they all just started to flap their wings like crazy. And all at once they all took off – and took the lake that was frozen around them with them.

A good friend of mine saw the whole think happen. She jumped on her motor cycle and followed those geese for miles and miles and miles.  Eventually they did land, and she tells me  that lake is somewhere in the Poconos in Pennsylvania.   Personally, I think the whole thing is just a wild goose chase! But, sometimes you just got to chase a wild goose or two, becasue you never know what you might discover. At least there will be a smile or two, some belly laughs if you are lucky and maybe even a good story!

Can you imagine working for change without laughter? Some days I think laughter is the philosophers stone that activates the alchemy of change. Some days I think laughter is the holy grail of work for social justice. Laughter IS the best medicine.

The heart and spirit of this story are borrowed from the book Fried Green Tomatoes by Fannie Flagg. If you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, given either one a try. You will laugh a lot and maybe cry a bit – but you’ll laugh a lot more.

my cup runneth over

On By MaryIn growth into humanity1 Comment

What you see is not always what you see. What you seek is not always what you find. A few years ago I was part of an editorial board for a feminist journal. Twice a year we would seek out a place to meet to do work on the journal, and to talk and plan. For the most part we would hold our meetings at the home university of one of the members, and that person would find a reasonable hotel near the school where we all could stay. So, it came time for Esther to volunteer her school which was in a major east coast city, a kind of pricy east coast city. But, Esther was undaunted! She knew of a bed and breakfast right across the street from the building where we could meet at her school. It would be perfect!

Of course we were immediately all on board with this, and the idea became a plan. Time when by, and it was coming on to be time for the meeting, so we all made our reservations at the bed and breakfast. And indeed the price for two nights and two breakfasts was remarkably inexpensive – it was downright cheap! All the better for low budget feminist academics. The weekend of the meeting arrived, and I arrived at the address of the accommodations. As I went through the door of the bed and breakfast I was taken with the rather prominent displays of Christian iconography – particularly since the bed and breakfast had been identified by Esther who is a very observant orthodox Jewish woman. But, then, I’m a feminist who celebrates diversity, so I was not going to quibble about this. Then at the registration desk – which was more like a telephone table in a small hallway, I was greeted by a young woman in a nun’s habit.  She warmly greeted me “God bless you, welcome to our retreat home.”  My jaw must have dropped several stories, because the good sister continued, “yes, we are the  Poor Clare sisters of St. Francis of Assisi. We’ve been running this retreat house as an extension of our cloister for a few years now. It gives women an opportunity to retreat and reflect in silence.”

At that point I found my voice – barely, and managed to utter, “Retreat house? Silence? Cloister?  Is this … and I sputtered out the address?” 

The good sister was the paragon of graciousness, and confirmed that I was at the right place, and affirmed that indeed the bed and breakfast that I was – that we were – expecting was in fact a retreat house where silence was the rule, and prayerful reflection was the practice.

At that point I found myself fervently, silently repeating the mantra, “I’m a feminist who celebrates diversity; I’m a feminist who celebrates diversity.” As I took up my silent chant, I tried to explain who I was and what I was expecting, and that there were a dozen or so other women with similar expectations who would be arriving shortly. Then the good sister’s eyes lit up and she said, “Oh, you must be part of Esther’s group.”  Ah, Esther’s group – that clarified it, and all was right with the world again. I was shown to my room, reminded of the rule of silence, and told that breakfast and prayers would begin at 7 AM. So, off to my room I went to settle in, to wait for the others and to see how the evening would unfold.

I unpacked, settled in, and then started to get restless. So, I ventured out to see if anyone else had arrived, and I found myself in a common room with another of the Poor Clare Sisters. This Sister noticed me, smiled and gestured for me to follow her. We moved into a kitchen area, and she introduced herself as the Mother in charge of the house, and welcomed me. She allowed as how hosting a non-retreat group was a new venture for the sisters, but there was only a small retreat scheduled for that weekend, so they could easily accommodate us, and they could use the additional revenue that our group would add. She asked if I was comfortable, if I needed anything or if I had any questions.

Well, indeed, I had some questions. I was raised Catholic. I knew about the Catholic Church. And there was a thing or two that I wanted to say to the Church. And, since she was standing there and she was clearly bearing the robes of the Church, well, I could just as well say them to her. So, within the rule of silence, I began. And, I continued. And, I went on. Abortion, birth control, clerical celibacy, dogmatism, exempting priests from responsibility for their acts against children, excluding gays and lesbians from marriage, financial wealth in the midst of urban poverty … I went on with questions about how an intelligent, thinking woman could be part of such an institution. (Maybe I might have been carrying some pent up frustration and hostility? Do you think?)  Finally I paused for a breath in my monologue about the failures in catholicity of the Catholic Church and the need for protest and reform. And the Mother Sister smiled graciously, and asked if I would like a cup of tea.

Actually I did. Tea sounded very good about then. And so I dug deep and found my last good manner, and said, “yes, please.” The water was already simmering, so Mother Sister got a couple of cups, poured the water into a teapot, and after the tea had steeped for a few minutes, she began to pour. As she poured the tea into my cup, I quickly notice that the tea was reaching the rim. “Ahhh” I said. And Mother Sister continued to pour. “Wait, stop!” I said, “my cup is full, you can’t put anymore tea in it!” 

Mother Sister just smiled, and said, “Exactly. If your cup is so full, how can anyone put anymore in it.”

And I knew right then and there that she was talking about a lot more than tea in a tea cup. Her few words said so much more than my monologue. Maybe there was something to this silence. And, I continued my silent chant, “I’m a feminist and I celebrate diversity.” And I started to think a bit more about what that meant, about what I meant by it, and about what it could mean.

Well, then others from the group started to arrive. Word about the rule of silence started to spread. And the giggles started to erupt. Women, silent? Feminist women, silent! Really? Well, we managed.  We were silent in the bed and breakfast retreat house – well mostly – and always when we were reminded. The work that weekend did seem to progress a bit more smoothly than usual. It was a weekend that none of us has ever forgotten.

 And, I find myself smiling quietly now every time I pour myself a cup of tea – and I find myself thinking about how full I really am, about how much I actually know. I’ve heard the beginning of wisdom is to know that you don’t know. And, while I do manage to keep the tea in the cup, more often than not, as I remember that weekend and my conversation with Mother Sister, I do feel like my cup runneth over.

The mayonnaise jar, rocks, pebbles, sand and 2 cups of tea

On By MaryIn TimeLeave a comment

Once upon a time, in a far away classroom very near to our hearts, a professor stood before her social work class with some items on her desk in front of her. When the class began, wordlessly, she picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with large rocks. She then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

 The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. She shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the large rocks. She then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. She asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous ‘YES.’

The professor then produced two cups of tea from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

‘Now,’ said the professor, as the laughter subsided, ‘I want you to recognize that the jar represents your life. The large rocks are the important things: your family, your children, your health, your friends, and your deepest passions; things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your education and maybe your car.  The sand is everything else; the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first, she continued, there is no room for the pebbles or the large rocks. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the good things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Pay attention to love. Play with your children. Take your partner out to dinner. Take care of your own health – physical, mental and spiritual. Walk in the woods and along the beach. Go kayaking on a quiet pond.

There will always be time to clean the house and cut the grass. Take care of the large rocks first; the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the tea represented.

The professor smiled. ‘I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of cups of tea with a friend.

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar, the rocks and the 2 cups of tea.

What kind of cheese do you like?

On By MaryIn loveLeave a comment

Most of the stories that I’ve posted here are from here and there, kind of public domain parables.  But this one is pretty close to a true story…. close enough anyway.

A few years ago my partner and I were in Vermont at the Cabot Cheese store, where they have free samples of most of the flavors of cheese that they make. At that point I think we had been together somewhere around 25+ years – long enough to have a shared history and to buy into the delusion that we knew each other fairly well. I knew her favorite color is green, she knew my favorite color is blue. She knew I like rock and roll. I knew she does not.  We knew those kinds of warm intimate details that make relationships sweet and enable then to flow along.

So, we were at the Cabot store sampling cheeses. Well, Cabot makes a LOT of flavors of cheese. So, we spent a good while sampling, and re-sampling cheeses. We both came to the conclusion that we had sampled so much cheese we HAD to buy something. But what?  Of course it would never occur to us that we could by two different kinds of cheese, so next came the negotiation for what kind to buy.  I knew what I liked the best, but I also knew that my partner would not like my favorite kind of cheese. So, as we talked about what to buy, I suggested something more in line with what I thought she liked.  My partner thought about it for a few seconds, and suggested something else. Well back and forth we went trying to second guess each other, trying to make the other person happy and maybe get a little something of personal preference in there at the same time – all the while sampling more cheese of course.

Finally, she asked me what cheese I had sampled the most. I told her it was the extra, extra sharp cheese. I went on to talk about how I liked cheese so sharp you could you could cut something with it. Told her about how my grandmother had a butcher shop, since before I started school and my grandmother would sneak me slices of Vermont Black Wax cheese! (That is just the best, sharpest, finest tasting cheddar cheese in the universe as far as I am concerned – it comes with flavor, texture, nice saltiness and grandmotherly love!) And then my partner started to laugh quietly and ‘fessed up that extra sharp cheese was her favorite too. When we asked each other why that was not our first suggestion to each other, we both confessed that it was because we each thought the other would not like it. How did we mess that up! How did we not know this about each other? And after twenty five years we figured out that we had each been buying milder cheese because we both thought the other would not like the extra sharp!  Talk about an O Henry moment!! 

Of course it is not like we don’t talk about things. It is not like we don’t compare notes on anything and everything!  Two feminists committed to consensus! A social worker and a counselor! We process everything! And yet, somehow we missed this kind of basic detail about food preferences.  It just goes to show, that – well, there are no immaculate perceptions. Jane Austen had it right: “Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken (Emma).”  

So, if we would work for a world where human dignity is respected, where fairness is honored, then even after 25 years, even after 38 years, we still need to keep talking and listening and hearing what is said, always with an open heart and an open mind. And, we need to be able to laugh when we inevitably discover the gaffs in our perceptions and understandings. Laugh, forgive, learn and move on!

(Oh, and we bought the Vermont Vintage Choice Cheddar, aged for 24 months, rich, full bodied, extra sharp!)