Month: December 2012

Pork, Sauerkraut and Why we cut the ham in half

On By MaryIn alchemy, change, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

Holidays and celebrations all seem, sooner or later, to center around and come back to food. At least they certainly did in my Polish Catholic family of origin. One of the MAJOR food traditions (and there were many), was that you MUST always eat pork and sauerkraut on New Year’s day – and you must NEVER eat chicken on New Year’s day.

As I was growing up, I thought this was a tradition unique (read idiosyncratic – which is polite for weird) to my own family. Then I found out that it is a widely shared tradition among Polish peoples, and is also common among many Eastern European peoples as well as a Pennsylvania Dutch tradition.

My mom told me that you should eat pork because pigs root forward, and so if you eat pork you will move forward throughout the year, and you will make good progress. But, if you eat chicken, like chickens you will spend the year scratching out subsistence.

As I did some further research on the immensely interesting and important topic (read that as doing a quick google search), I learned that the green cabbage from which sauerkraut is created and the bountiful fat of pigs are taken to symbolize riches and prosperity for the coming year. The pig of course also represents progress for the coming year as a forward thinking and forward moving animal because it roots forward with its snout and all four of its hooves point forward. Also, many people from Slavic countries believe that eating the long threads of sauerkraut will nurture the threads of a long life – and now, modern science joins that belief with research about the probiotic properties of cabbage and of fermented cabbage.

Ah, food. And, all this writing about food reminds me of the addition practice in my family of buying a very large ham for any and every holiday, and then asking the butcher to cut the ham in half before you brought is home. For my father – and through him for my mother, the purchase of the very largest ham available and the cutting it in half by the butcher were as sacrosanct as eating pork and sauerkraut on New Year’s day. So, I had the story for the New Year’s practice, and even as I smiled, I could get my head around it. But why such a large ham? Smaller animals produced more tender meat – or so I thought. And why must it be cut in half? What special blessing did that act by the butcher impart? I just couldn’t puzzle it out. So, I asked my mother. She shrugged and said, “because that’s the way your father likes it done, and I’m not going to get into an argument with him over this on the holiday. So, I just do it his way.”

But, why? I wanted to know. So, I asked my father. And he said, “because that is the way your grandmother did it. She was a wonderful cook. When you find something that works, don’t rock the boat.”

Now, I knew that “don’t rock the boat” was one of my father’s favorite phrases when he did not have an answer and was not about to be dissuaded from his preferred way of thinking and doing things. So, I took a deep breath, put my coat on, and when over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house, and I asked her. Grandma started to laugh when I asked her. She said, “Sweetheart, I had eleven children and a husband to feed. I always bought the biggest of everything that I could afford. I had to if I wanted to feed them all. But, I had a small oven, and I did not have a very big knife, so I had to have the butcher cut it into a size that would fit in the oven. If I didn’t make a big deal over it, those boys of mine would come home with the ham in one piece and then I would have to send them back to the butcher and I would be here waiting while they took their time coming and going. It is about having enough and having it in a manageable size.”

Well, when I heard the reason behind the rule it all made sense. I then I started to laugh along with my grandmother, because there were only 5 of us in the house of my family of origin. A nice small ham would have been plenty.

And, I guess the moral of the story is that rules make sense when they make sense. And, then when they don’t it is time to let go.

Question everything! Keep asking until you understand. When the rule doesn’t fit, when it doesn’t apply, let it go and forge your own path and tradition. Here’s to a new year of understanding past practices and creating new ones of freedom fairness and joy!!

On loving your neighbor as yourself

On By MaryIn change, growth into humanity, human rights, social justice, spiritual growthLeave a comment

 I find the great invocation, “love your neighbor as yourself” which finds expression in many of our world’s religions, to be problematic, not because I have any trouble with the idea of loving my neighbor, but because as I look around my world I simply do not think that many (if any) of us love ourselves all that well. Love your neighbor as yourself. How well do any of us really love ourselves? Psychiatry, psychology, social work and self help industries would not be flourishing to the degree that they are if authentic self love flourished. Rather self love stands as an anathema, it is more often taken as self indulgence rather than acceptance and cherishing based on awareness, knowledge and insight.  More often those who begin to walk the path of self-acceptance experience a duality within themselves – good and evil, angel and demon, love and hate – and then work to nurture one side while banishing the other. But, a house divided against itself will never stand. Until we each learn to fully cherish our selves for all of who we are, in all of our wonderful, delicious complexity, there will be no loving the other well. Until we each learn to fully cherish our selves for all of who we are, in all of our complexity, and until we learn to love each other well, there will be no justice, no respect for human rights, no peace.

 ‘Love yourself well, and love your neighbor as yourself’ is perhaps a better rendition of the precept. Karen Armstrong has eloquently described a path to loving our neighbor in her book, “twelve steps to a compassionate life.” The first step: learn about compassion progresses to look at your own world; develop compassion for yourself; develop empathy with others; practice mindfulness; take action; be aware of how little we know; consider how we should speak to one another; act with concern for everybody; continuously develop your knowledge; expand your recognition; and love your enemies.

 And as I come back to ‘love yourself well’ and Armstrong’s second step, ‘develop compassion for yourself’ I find myself thinking about how little we seem to appreciate the depth and breadth of human complexity, of how the trajectory of understanding trends toward parsimony and simplicity. But we are neither parsimonious nor simple beings. To bring Occam’s razor to understanding ourselves (and others) may be nothing more than self injury and cutting at best and perhaps slitting our wrists at worst.

 Recently, as I was reading Herman Hesse’s Steppenwolf, on page 75 I came across a particularly apt metaphor for what I am trying to get at here:

A person designs for herself a garden with a hundred kinds of trees, a thousand kinds of flowers, a hundred kinds of fruit and vegetables. Suppose, then, that the gardener of this garden knew no other distinction than between edible and inedible, nine tenths of this garden would be useless to him. He would pull up the most enchanting flowers and hew down the noblest trees and even regard them with a loathing and envious eye. This is what we do with the flowers of our soul. What does not stand classified as either man or wolf, what does not fit neatly into our predefined dichotomies we do not see at all.

 In order to love our selves well, we need to learn to look at ourselves with open hearts and minds, with the eyes of loving kindness and fierce open hearted compassion. Then we can begin to love our neighbors as our selves. Then we can begin to work together to build a world of justice, a world where human dignity (in all of its messy complexity) is respected, a world of peace where differences and diversity is celebrated!

Suffering, King Arthur, Empathy, Learning & Doing

On By MaryIn compassion, existential angst, strong empathy1 Comment

Suffering, dis-ease, frustration, dissatisfaction, pain, misery, torment and grief – the disjointedness of so much of life – caused by desire, greed, and clinging attachments that manifest in possessiveness, ignorance, and aggression – suffering is ubiquitous. Suffering manifests in injustice and distortion of basic human rights. What do we do about this? For me it actions need to be grounded in recognition of and respect for the profound importance of empathy, and of empathy with all living human beings – deep, powerful empathy that evokes passionate and compassionate action. We need to understand each other, in each others’ terms, context, culture, history, and beliefs.  And we need to think about the implications of our culture, history and beliefs for other people – how does all of that effect their lives?  Then we can ask them to consider how all of their stuff affects our lives … and then we are ready to make some changes.

And all of that begins with understanding, understanding based on real knowledge …In his book, The Once and Future King T.H. White (1958, p. 183) presents a conversation between Merlyn and the young Arthur.  Arthur is still a child, and has no idea that he will one day be King of England.  He is anguishing over the loss of his childhood playmate and best friend, Sir Kay who is preparing to become a knight and so has abandoned his relationship with Arthur.  Merlyn counsels Arthur,

“ The best thing for being sad is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails.  You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honor trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then – to learn.  Learn why the world wags and what wags it.  That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the thing for you.”

             Then when you know something, when you understand with your heart and mind, then go out and get your hands dirty (well engaged) and DO something. The Dali Lama once said, “compassion is not enough, you must act.” Truth be told, I think he was a little wrong. It’s not really compassion if you don’t act!

Carlos Castaneda, Don Juan a Yaqui Sorcerer, and the Path with Heart

On By MaryIn alchemy, growth into humanity, vision and perspective9 Comments

All too often when we set our sights to working for lofty goals like social and economic justice and human rights, we get tangled up in the web of ‘should’  …. Woulda, coulda, shoulda … ugh. And then we start to trip over our own feet, and get mired down in guilt, frustration and anger. Well, I do anyway. Sometimes.

 And then, on my better days, I remember this wonderful series of books that I read in my hippy, trippy youth. They were written by Carlos Castaneda. They were anthropology, or they were fiction; they were self help, mysticism, or not. They were a life line for me at moments, that much I am sure of.  Here is an extended excerpt from “Don Juan’s Teaching”

 Don Juan said: Anything is one of a million paths. Therefore you must always keep in mind that a path is only a path; if you feel you should not follow it, you must not stay with it under any conditions. To have such clarity you must lead a disciplined life. Only then will you know that any path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in dropping it if that is that your heart tells you to do. But your decision to keep on the path or to leave it must be free of fear or ambition.

 I warn you. Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself, and yourself alone, one question. This question is one that only a very old person asks. My benefactor told me about it once when I was young, and my blood was too vigorous for me to understand it. Now I do understand it. I will tell you what it is: Does this path have a heart?

 All paths are the same: they lead nowhere. They are paths going through the bush, or into the bush. In my own life I could say I have traversed long, long paths, but I am not anywhere. My benefactor’s question has meaning now. Does this path have a heart?

If it does, the path is good; if it does not, it is of no use. Both paths lead nowhere; but one has a heart the other does not. One makes for a joyful journey; as long as you follow it, you are one with it. The other will make you curse your life. One makes you strong; the other weakens you. The trouble is nobody asks the question; and when a person finally realizes that she has taken a path without a heart, the path is ready to kill her. At that point very few people can stop to deliberate, and leave the path.

 

A path without a heart is never enjoyable. You have to work hard even to take it. On the other hand, a path with heart is easy; it does not make you work at liking it. For me there is only the traveling on paths that have a heart, or on any path that may have heart. There I travel… and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly.

 Don Juan, a Yaqui Sorcerer

 

Good By to Sister Ludwika & The story of the mustard seed

On By MaryIn Cloister of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene, compassion, Death and Grieving1 Comment

Hurricane Sandy has passed, the east coast is recovering, and the Sisters of Mary Magdalene have decided that it is time to return to the cloister. They are concerned for Sister Ludwika’s wellbeing and they are also concerned about the condition of the cloister buildings. So, they convince their neighbors, the Sisters of the Loose Habit to drive them back to the cloister. As they arrived at the cloister grounds they immediately knew that Sister Ludwika was in trouble.  The winds and rains of Sandy had utterly altered the landscape. Trees were tumbled like so many twigs. Buildings were off their foundations and some were tossed and tumbled like doll houses in the aftermath of a child’s temper tantrum. But, where was Ludwika? Surely even she would have had sought safety somewhere – but where in all of this devastation and chaos?

 Then the sisters heard Sister Bryda gasp as she sobbed Sister Ludwika’s name. And the community knew that Ludwika had been found, and that she had left them to meet her maker. “Blessed Mary Magdalene protect her soul” as one, the prayer was on the lips of each of the sisters.

 Mother Magdalene quickly found Sister Bryda cradling the remains of Sister Ludwika’s body. It had been a few days since the storm wrecked its havoc and claimed Ludwika. Time and their feral neighbors had not been kind to Ludwika’s remains. Taking it all in was too much for Bryda. Mother Magdalene quickly understood that Bryda was on the edge of hysteria and shock. Mother Magdalene gathered the young sister into her arms, separating her from Ludwika’s remains. Sister Bryda was inconsolable, “We should have insisted. We should have made her come with us to higher ground.”

 “Ah, Bryda. You more than any of us know Ludwika. No one made her do anything. If we had bound her and dragged her with us, she would have found a way to return her to this place were she found and knew her peace. No one – not even I as Mother Superior of this Cloister – no one told Ludwika what to do if she did not already want to do it. By now, I expect she has met our patron, Mary Magdalene and her great love, the Carpenter. Now we must find our peace with her passing.”

 “But, Mother, her faith was so great, why did her faith not protect her?”

 “Bryda, we will all miss Ludwika. We will all grieve her passing. And, we will celebrate her life and her passage into the eternal. It is for all of us one day to die and to pass into the nextness of our creation. Bryda, in your heart you know these things.”

 “But, Mother, Lazarus was brought back to life after many days in the tomb. Why not Ludwika? We could all pray? Why her? Why now? When her faith was so strong.”

 “Bryda, let me tell you a story I once heard at the feet of  Chogyam Trungpa Rimpoche. It is the story of a young mother, Kisa Gotami  . . .

Kisa was happily married to a wonderful man, and together they had a young son who was just learning to walk. Her life was full, and she was happier than she had ever dreamt might be possible. Then one day her son was out playing and he was bitten by a poisonous insect. The infant died in his mother’s arms. And, as you can imagine her grief was without measure. She was completely and utterly inconsolable. Being a devout woman, she sought out the village wise man and asked who might heal her son. What prayers could be said?

The wise man told her there was only one who might effect a healing, it was the Buddha himself. Undaunted, Kisa sought out the Buddha, and invoked his aid. The Buddha took pity on the young woman and told her that she must bring him a mustard seed in order for his to heal her son. Kisa’s eyes lit up, and hope grew in her heart. A mustard seed! Certainly she could secure a simple mustard seed. Ah, but the Buddha said, this must be a special seed. You must receive the seed as a gift from the house where no one has lost a loved one to death.

Kisa went from house to house in her village. At each home she would ask for a mustard seed, and in each home it was given to her freely and generously with great kindness and compassion. When she asked if anyone they loved had died in that home, each family responded with sadness, saying ‘the living are few, but the dead are many. Our grief is as full as the river Ganges.’ There was no home in her village where someone had not died in it.

And Kisa was overcome with hopelessness and sat down and wept. And she thought about her experiences and the task that the Buddha had set for her. ‘He is man of compassion,’ she thought, ‘there is a lesson here for me.’ And she discovered and experienced the universality of grief and of death. ‘If we love, we will grieve. If we live, we will die,’ the realization came to her – as it must come to each of us. She touched the ground, looked up to the stars and released the isolation of her anguish into the common suffering of all those in her village who had shared their pain with her.”

Mother Magdalene sighed deeply, cradled Sister Bryda in her arms for a few minutes more as she softly said, “Bryda, pain is ubiquitous, but suffering is optional. Rilke once said that our greatest fears are like dragons guarding our most precious treasures. We have lost Ludwika. Now we are confronted with the dragon of our grief at her loss. It is up to us, alone and together to confront and engage that dragon to claim the treasures beyond that grief. Let’s walk that road together, in community.

And, as we walk, let us pray the great prayer from the heart sutra: Gate, Gate, Paragate, Para Sam gate y Bodhi swaha … gone, gone, they are all gone to the other shore.

It is good to remember now our evening meditation: Life and death are indeed grave matters. All things pass quickly away and so each of us must be completely alert: Never neglectful, never indulgent.  We have borrowed this meditation from our Zen brothers and sisters for good reason. May we continue to honor it well, with deep thought and compassionate action even as we remember Sister Ludwika.”

And Sister Bryda shed a more peaceful tear as her she let go of Ludwika’s body and touched her memories of their days together. “Ah, Mother Magdalene,” Bryda said, “she is indeed gone to the other shore.” And they both wept even as they smiled at the aptness of the prayer.

In memory of my mother, Celia (January 1, 1925 – October 25, 2012), and all our mothers, families and friends who have gone before us. May they rest in peace. May we all find the treasure beyond the dragon of our grief.