Author: Mary

I am a recently retired college professor. Up until June 2012 I taught human behavior and the social environment, social justice and human rights at Monmouth University, in the school of social work. My great joys are reading and telling stories! Reading and thinking about the meaning and implications of what is written. Good literature has the potential of alchemy! of social change toward a world where social and economic justice is respected and where human rights are celebrated.

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.

Mary Oliver and Wild Geese

On By MaryIn alchemy, existential angst, growth into humanity, love, spiritual growth2 Comments

 It is that time of year again. It is always some time of  year, it is always again. This time, in this moment, we are approaching Thanksgiving, the Solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah; we are approaching the season of giving thanks, and of clinging to the hope that light will come again into our lives, our world.  At moments like this, I often take solace in the poetry of Mary Oliver. Wild Geese is one of my most favoritest poems by her. It is already all over the web, so I hope to high heaven I am not breaking too many copyright protections in reposting it here for you all to enjoy!  Maybe you can take it as an invocation to go and check out one of her books from the library? Or maybe even head over to your independent bookstore and buy one for yourself?

 “Wild Geese,” by Mary Oliver from New & Selected Poems (Harcourt Brace).

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
       love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

And, here is a UTube Link to Mary Oliver herself reading Wild Geese and a couple of other poems: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnaP7ig69go

Thanksgiving, Mohawk Greetings to the Natural World

On By MaryIn stories for social change, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

The third Thursday in November many immigrant families (and let me be clear about this, we are nearly all immigrant families if we but look honestly at our family origins) so, many immigrant families in the United States of America celebrate Thanksgiving as a day to be with family members and gorge on Turkey, various iterations of pumpkin, squash and other root vegetables, and more deserts than any human being should ever eat at one sitting.

Sometimes conversations will include thoughts about what each person is particularly grateful for from the past months or year. Sometimes families will remember that the earliest immigrants relied very heavily on the Native American Peoples for sustenance and survival (relied heavily is code for stole a good bit of the food stores of the Native Peoples).

There is indeed much complexity to this holiday. But, maybe not quite enough historical remembering and deep gratitude. Below I’ve shared some excerpts from the Mohawk “Greetings to the Natural World,” thanksgiving address.  During this season of giving thanks, it is good to remember …

Thanksgiving Address

GREETINGS TO THE NATURAL WORLD!

The People

Today we have gathered and we see that the cycles of life continue. We have been given the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things. So now, we bring our minds together as one as we give greetings and thanks to each other as People.

Now our minds are one.

The Earth Mother

We are all thankful to our Mother, the Earth, for she gives us all that we need for life. She supports our feet as we walk about upon her. It gives us joy that she continues to care for us as she has from the beginning of time. To our Mother, we send greetings and thanks.

Now our minds are one.

The Waters

We give thanks to all the Waters of the world for quenching our thirst and providing us with strength. Water is life. We know its power in many forms – waterfalls and rain, mists and streams, rivers and oceans. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to the spirit of water.

Now our minds are one.

The Fish

We turn our minds to all the Fish life in the water. They were instructed to cleanse and purify the water. They also give themselves to us as food. We are grateful that we can still find pure water. So, we turn now to the Fish and send our greetings and thanks.

Now our minds are one.

The Plants

Now we turn toward the vast fields of Plant life. As far as the eye can see, the Plants grow, working many wonders. They sustain many life forms. With our minds gathered together, we give thanks and look forward to seeing Plant life for many generations to come.

Now our minds are one.

The Food Plants

With one mind, we turn to honor and thank all the Food Plants we harvest from the garden. Since the beginning of time, the grains, vegetables, beans and berries have helped the people survive. Many other living things draw strength from them too. We gather all the Plant Foods together as one and send them a greeting and thanks.

Now our minds are one.

The Medicine Herbs

Now we turn to all the Medicine herbs of the world. From the beginning, they were instructed to take away sickness. They are always waiting and ready to heal us. We are happy there are still among us those special few who remember how to use these plants for healing. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to the Medicines and to the keepers of the Medicines.

Now our minds are one.

The Animals

We gather our minds together to send greetings and thanks to all the Animal life in the world. They have many things to teach us as people. We see them near our homes and in the deep forests. We are glad they are still here and we hope that it will always be so.

Now our minds are one.

The Trees

We now turn our thoughts to the Trees. The Earth has many families of Trees who have their own instructions and uses. Some provide us with shelter and shade, others with fruit, beauty and other useful things. Many Peoples of the world use a Tree as a symbol of peace and strength. With one mind, we greet and thank the Tree life.

Now our minds are one.

The Birds

We put our minds together as one and thank all the Birds who move and fly about over our heads. The Creator gave them beautiful songs. Each day they remind us to enjoy and appreciate life. The Eagle was chosen to be their leader. To all the Birds – from the smallest to the largest – we send our joyful greetings and thanks.

Now our minds are one.

The Four Winds

We are all thankful to the powers we know as the Four Winds. We hear their voices in the moving air as they refresh us and purify the air we breathe. They help to bring the change of seasons. From the four directions they come, bringing us messages and giving us strength. With one mind, we send our greetings and thanks to the Four Winds.

Now our minds are one.

The Thunderers

Now we turn to the west where our Grandfathers, the Thunder Beings, live. With lightning and thundering voices, they bring with them the water that renews life. We bring our minds together as one to send greetings and thanks to our Grandfathers, the Thunderers.

Now our minds are one.

The Sun

We now send greetings and thanks to our eldest Brother, the Sun. Each day without fail he travels the sky from east to west, bringing the light of a new day. He is the source of all the fires of life. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to our Brother, the Sun.

Now our minds are one.

Grandmother Moon

We put our minds together and give thanks to our oldest grandmother, the Moon, who lights the night-time sky. She is the leader of women all over the world, and she governs the movement of the ocean tides. By her changing face we measure time, and it is the Moon who watches over the arrival of children here on Earth. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to our Grandmother, the Moon.

Now our minds are one.

The Stars

We give thanks to the Stars who are spread across the sky like jewelry. We see them in the night, helping the Moon to light the darkness and bringing dew to the gardens and growing things. When we travel at night, they guide us home. With our minds gathered together as one, we send greetings and thanks to all the Stars.

Now our minds are one.

The Enlightened Teachers

We gather our minds to greet and thank the enlightened Teachers who have come to help throughout the ages. When we forget how to live in harmony, they remind us of the way we were instructed to live as people. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to these caring Teachers.

Now our minds are one.

The Creator

Now we turn our thoughts to the Creator, or Great Spirit, and send greetings and thanks for the gifts of Creation. Everything we need to live a good life is here on this Mother Earth. For all the love that is still around us, we gather our minds together as one and send our choicest words of greetings and thanks to the Creator.

Now our minds are one.

Closing Words

We have now arrived at the place where we end our words. Of all the things we have named, it was not our intention to leave anything out. If something was forgotten, we leave it to each individual to send such greetings and thanks in their own way.

Now our minds are one.

Ultimately, at our roots, we are one. All of us together, we are one, in our differences, in our diversity, really, we are one. Let us remember, let us re-member, and let us find the depth and peace of heart, mind, and hand to fully celebrate all of that, let us celebrate and be thankful for all of who we are.

Sister Ludwika Hurricane Sandy and faith versus action

On By MaryIn Cloister of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene, growth into humanity, laughter1 Comment

Back at the cloister of the good Sisters of Mary Magdalene in Flemington, word went around that Hurricane Sandy was coming and the sisters should prepare to evacuate since the South Branch of the Raritan was expected to reach catastrophic flood levels. The sisters had never received such a challenge before, and some of them interpreted the warning as a test of their faith. As you might expect, there was a small group (a very small group, maybe two or three) of sisters who proclaimed their unwavering faith, and said they would weather the storm in the cloister, trusting in God and their faith to keep them well. The other sisters methodically brought inside anything that could be moved, pack up a bag each and relocated to higher and drier ground.

And the winds began, and the rain came.

As the wind and rain were beginning, a state police officer came by in a patrol car, and offered to drive them to safety. Our friend Sister Septimus, the pragmatist, thought for a moment, and got in the vehicle urging the others to join her. The two remaining sisters looked askance at her and the state trooper, and proclaimed their faith and trust in God, saying, “God will protect us. We will stay here. Firm in our faith we will be fine.”

And the wind and the rain increase in intensity and strength. The night wore on and just after midnight, driving through two feet of flood water, a volunteer fire fighter drove up in a humvee and offered to take the two sisters to safety at the shelter that had been opened near the public library. The sisters looked at each other, and Sister Bryda told Sister Ludwika that she was going to go to the shelter. Sister Ludwika laughed at Bryda, and told her that her trust in the Lord could not be shaken by a little water and some wind. Sister Ludwika said she would remain strong in her faith. She was staying even if she would stay alone.

And the wind and the rain howled through the night. Just after midnight Mother Magdalene herself, the sister superior of the cloister returned in a borrowed SUV and entreated Sister Ludwika to come with her to a safer location. Ludwika refused, again inveighing against the failure of faith of the other sisters, and proclaiming that her faith would shine like a beacon to them all. And so, Mother Magdalene left Ludwika to her own private vigil.

As the night wore on, Sister Ludwika became ever more resolute in her vigil, her faith growing ever stronger even as the winds howled, and the rain waters engorged the normally quiescent South Branch of the Raritan River. As the winds raged, the cottage that Sister Ludwika had chosen for her shelter was lifted off its foundation by the winds and tossed like so much flotsam into the raging waters of the Raritan. The cottage and its contents – including Sister Ludwika – were tossed by the raging waters and batter along the river banks. Early that morning before sunrise, Sister Ludwika met her maker.

Upon arriving at the Pearly Gates (which Ludwika thought to herself were not quite as pearlescent as she had expected), Sister Ludwika saw a ragged looking fellow wearing a contractors’ tool belt. Since no one else was around to greet her, she approached him, introduced herself, and asked who he was. He smiled, and said that he had been was waiting for her. “I am Jesus” he said simply.

“Oh, my God!” Ludwika said, and blushed.

He smiled and said, “Yes.”

Then Ludwika’s anger got the best of her, and she burst out, “but why did you fail me? Why did you not save me after all my years of prayers and my unwavering faith in you! How could you let me down when I needed you the most?”

Jesus looked at her with a mixture of compassion and frustration. “Ludwika, dear, I did reach out to protect and save you. I sent the state police, the fire department and Mother Magdalene. I sent you a car, a Humvee, and an SUV! What did you want a Chariot of Fire? Your prayers may propose, but up here we are the ones to dispose! Indeed, praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition. Not that I am advocating fighting (since you can be kind of literal, Ludwika) but it really is about developing your god given skills and abilities and building communities of love and interdependence. It is not faith versus action, it is faith and action.”

(the heart of this story is a bit of an old chestnut that often centers on a man of faith caught in a tree as flood waters swirl around him. I hope you enjoy my version.)

Albert Camus, the Myth of Sisyphus and Happiness

On By MaryIn existential angst, happinessLeave a comment

Homer, the ancient Greek poet, is said to have believed that Sisyphus was the wisest and most prudent of all mortals. Other traditions describe him as a bit of a scoundrel. And, really, at the root, at the heart of matters, those who are wise and who are seen as scoundrels may not be all that very different.  Indeed, there are any number of stories about Sisyphus and his relationship and interactions with the gods of his day.  A consistent theme of the stories is that Sisyphus was a man who looked the gods squarely in the eyes and spoke his mind even making fun of what he thought were their foibles and short comings. Sisyphus loved life and living, he hated death, and he taunted the gods.  Well, as you can imagine the gods would only have but so much of that from Sisyphus, and indeed one day the gods have had enough, and they condemned Sisyphus to roll a huge round boulder to the top of a mountain.  At just the moment when Sisyphus and the stone reach the summit of the mountain – yep, you can see it coming, the boulder rolls down again. And, Sisyphus is compelled to return to the base of the mountain to undertake his task again and again and again in perpetuity.

Albert Camus’ description of Sisyphus’ struggle and his analysis of the existential (its Camus of course there is existential angst!) meaning of the struggle provide an interesting twist to the myth. Camus observes:

Myths are made for the imagination to breathe life into them. As for this myth, one sees the whole effort of a body straining to raise the huge stone, to roll it, and push it up a slope a hundred times over; one sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone, the shoulder bracing the clay-covered mass, the foot wedging it, the fresh start with arms outstretched …

Now, I’ve read the myth of Sisyphus dozens of times, of used the myth as an analogy of all kinds of dull repetitive work, but I’ve never felt it like I did as I read Camus’ description! And then he goes on the descript Sisyphus as an absurd hero. An absurd hero whose scorn of the gods, whose hatred of death and Thanatos, whose passion for life won him a penalty in which his whole being is exerted toward accomplishing – exactly nothing. Now – how many of us have felt like we worked our hearts and souls out, like we worked our butts off and accomplished exactly nothing! Ah, Sisyphus our brother – absurd, yes, but hero?

Well, Camus redirects our focus to the moment after the boulder rolls down from the summit, the moment when Sisyphus turns and begins his own descent down the mountain. In that moment, in those moments Sisyphus stands as EveryMan, as EveryHuman, and walks in consciousness, in awareness of who he and the existential being of his condition. Wretched, but lucid, he thinks and therefore he claims liberation. Camus phrases it, “The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory.” The descent of Sisyphus is marked by exhaustion, frustration, sadness, and by joy. Within the angst of the dark night, of unbearable grief, of Gethsemane, within the soul of tragedy the lucid soul can find the foundation of strength and resilience.

Camus has Edipus cry out: “Despite so many ordeals, my advance age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well.”

This story is worth telling, worth thinking about – I think – just to get to that quote — “Despite so many ordeals, my advance age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well.” The phrase, ‘the nobility of my soul’ resonates for me. The conviction that ‘all is well’ even in the midst of ordeals, even in the midst of Sisyphus’ seemingly hopeless, endless, meaningless struggle – even then and there, all is well. Now that is something. That is a place where the discovery, the claiming of human dignity has depth and resonance and meaning.

And, Camus goes on to highlight that happiness and the absurd are siblings. There is no sun without shadow. There is no day without night. The choice to claim our fate, to say yes to the tasks, the actions we undertake – and to do so with conscious awareness and lucidity – there is the home of freedom and happiness. 

Be well my friends. Rest well and deeply knowing that all is well.

Seeing the Cat

On By MaryIn alchemy, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

Some stories are well told just as they are. This one is from Louis F. Post’s book, The Prophet of San Francisco (pp. 12-14). Apparently the phrase “seeing the cat” was a colloquialism that today might be said as “getting it” or understanding a point that is obscure to those who find the idea – well, inconceivable. The expression “seeing the cat” is said to have originated in a speech by Judge James G. Maguire in support of land value taxation in the late 1880s. In his speech, Judge Maguire said:

I was one day walking along Kearney Street in San Francisco when I noticed a crowd in front of the show window of a store. They were looking at something inside. I took a glance myself, but saw only a poor picture of an uninteresting landscape.

As I was turning away my eye caught these words underneath the picture: “Do you see the cat?” I looked again and more closely, but I saw no cat. Then I spoke to the crowd. “Gentlemen,” I said, “I do not see a cat in that picture; is there a cat there?” Some one in the crowd replied: “Naw, there ain’t no cat there. Here’s a crank who says he sees a cat in it, but none of the rest of us can.” Then the crank spoke up. “I tell you,” he said, “there is a cat there. The picture is all cat. What you fellows take for a landscape is nothing more than a cat’s outlines. And you needn’t call a man a crank either because he can see more with his eyes than you can with yours.”

Well, I looked again very closely at the picture, and then I said to the man they were calling a crank, “Really, sir, I cannot make out a cat in that picture. I can see nothing but a poor drawing of a commonplace landscape.” “Why, Judge,” the crank exclaimed, “just you look at that bird in the air. That’s the cat’s ear.” I looked but was obliged to say: “I am sorry to be so stupid but I really cannot make a cat’s ear of that bird. It’s a poor bird, but not a cat’s ear.” “Well, then,” the crank persisted, “look at that twig twirled around in a circle; that’s the cat’s eye.” But I couldn’t make out an eye. “Oh, well,” returned the crank a bit impatiently, “look at those sprouts at the foot of the tree, and the grass; they make the cat’s claws.” After a rather deliberate examination, I reported that they did look a little like claws, but I couldn’t connect them with a cat. Once more the crank came back at me as cranks will. “Don’t you see that limb off there? and that other limb just under it? and that white space between?” he asked. “Well, that white space is the cat’s tail.” I looked again and was just on the point of replying that there was no cat’s tail there that I could see, when suddenly the whole cat stood out before me.

There it was, sure enough, just as the crank had said; and the only reason the rest of us couldn’t see it was that we hadn’t got the right angle of view. but now that I saw the cat, I could see nothing else in the picture. The poor landscape had disappeared and a fine looking cat had taken its place. And do you know, I was never afterwards able, upon looking at that picture, to see anything in it *but* the cat.

 In one view, “the cat” is the possibility of a world without privilege. It can also be the possibility of a world where fairness is the common practice and where respect for human dignity is the norm. Let us all work to build a world where this cat is soon out of the bag!