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.

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!)

Mila Repa the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley

On By MaryIn alchemy, love, mysticism, spiritual growthLeave a comment

Mila Repa was a great Tibetan Buddhist yogi.  But, before he became a yogi, Mila Repa was a bit of a scoundrel. I mention that only to highlight that indeed change is possible – if you are committed to it and work at it.  So this story is known as the tale of Mila Repa in the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley. 

 Mila Repa had been studying with his guru Marpa for a number of years, working to overcome the negative karma that he had accumulated during his years as a scoundrel.  Our Mila Repa was not yet the most patient man, and so he was not satisfied with the pace of his progress. Eventually Mila Repa convinced Marpa that he should go off to the caves to pray and meditate in solitude, to get away from the distractions of day to day life. Marpa merely smiled a Mila Repa’s insistence, and finally gave his blessing to his student’s insistence.

 One day, after Mila Repa had been living in the caves for some time he went out to collect firewood from the valley just below his cave. While he was out, a serious strom blew up. The wind was fierce, and as quickly a Mila Repa could pick up wood, the wind blew it out of his arms. The wind whipped his robes around and promised to tear off even that bit of protection.  As his frustration grew, Mila Repa remember the Buddhist injunction to be free of ego and attachments. And he chastised himself, saying something like, “What is the point of my great devotions and solitary practice if I cannot manage to control my own ego! Let the wind take my robes away if it wants to.”  And, just as he became aware of that thought, he fainted from the exertion and the struggle. When he came to, he observed that the storm had blown itself out, and he saw his tattered robe tangled in the branches of a nearby scrub tree.

 Necessity being necessity, Mila Repa gathered up his robes, put them on, got himself back together, and gathered up the firewood that he had set out for. After a bit more work, he got himself and the wood back to his cave.  When  he arrived at the cave, he was surprised to find that his cave had been invaded and taken over by five of the ugliest, most ferocious looking demons that he had ever seen. They were huge, smelly, drooling with large fangs and claws. Mila Repa was shocked to see them in his peaceful dwelling space. But, he had his own history of villainy, so, undaunted he introduced himself to the demons and asked them to leave. The demons took this to be impudent effrontery, and became menacing. They destroyed his food stores, they ripped up his books of prayers and scriptures, and generally wrecked havoc in the cave. Then they surrounded Mila Repa, growling and taunting him maliciously. The demons made it clear that they were serious in their malevolence. Now, Mila Repa was alarmed and afraid. This was no mere halucination. He was in mortal danger.

 Seeing their growing hostility, Mila Repa thought about his options. He thought about his years as a villan, and rejected violence as a possible response. He reaffirmed his committment to his Buddhist vows. He recited prayers of exorcism, with no effect. He preached Buddhism to them, he chanted Buddhist prayers and teachings to them, he told them of great acts of compassion from the history of Buddhism.  All of this to no avail. Indeed, all of this had the opposite effect, only increasing their hostility toward him.

Despairation was descending on Mila Repa. He thought about all he knew. He thought about his years of study of Buddhism, he remembered that our experience and interpretation of reality is but a projection of our own mind. He remembered that all of our experiences are but teachers, intended to open our heart to greater awareness and love. … Mila Repa laughed out loud as he realized how romantic and lofty he always thought those teachings sounded. And now, his life seemed to hang on his ability to put those teachings into practice. Mila Repa remembered all that he had learned about love and now understood it with a new fearlessness. He welcomed the demons into his home and his life. He invited them to talk and eat and play together. He listened to them, even as he challenged them to listen to him. They engaged in a dialogue. He listened and learned — not to their taunts as they presented them, but to the meanings of those taunts within the context of awareness, love and enlightenment. And Mila Repa’s understanding and practice grew deeper and more refined. The demons did not leave – they never leave. But, Mila Repa’s relationship to them was transformed. They became his greatest teachers. Crisis is both danger and opportunity.

Baucis and Philemon from Ovid’s Metamorphoses

On By MaryIn loveLeave a comment

This is not my story — not that any of the other stories here are really original to me, but with the others, I’ve tweaked and played with them a bit here and there.  This story comes to you fairly directly from Ovid the original author. Ovid was a Roman poet at the beginning of the Current Era (CE). In his book, “The Metamorphoses” he tells the story of Baucis and Philemon. It is one of my favorite love stories. I think it speaks very powerfully to the alchemy of love.

The story begins with Jupiter and Mercury disguising themselves as mortals, and wandering the earth to see who would offer them food and rest. They were sent away from a thousand homes until finally they came to a humble dwelling, a small little cottage where they were invited in to shelter.  This was the home of Baucis and Philemon who were both in their later years. The furnishings of the home were very basic and simple and the food was meager, but all that was had was offered to the guests without hesitation. As the meal continued, Baucis and Philemon noticed that the bowls of food and the container of wine kept filling themselves of their own accord. The two surmise that their guests were immortals, and they were filled with awe and fear, concerned with the humble nature of the food they had shared with their guests.  Baucis and Philemon then tried to catch and kill their one goose, but the bird was too young and too fast for them and they could not trap it. The gods quickly told them not to kill the goose.

While all their neighbors had denied the gods hospitality, Baucis and Philemon willingly shared what they had. Because of this, the neighbors would be destroyed, but they would be spared the anger of the gods.  Baucis and Philemon were told to climb to the top of the nearest mountain. They did so, and when they looked back their valley was filled with water, with only their home remaining above the water line.  While they wept for their neighbors, their house changed into a temple to the gods. Then Jupiter spoke to them and offered to grant them whatever they would ask.  The husband and wife stepped back, consulted with each other, and asked to be priests in the temple, and since they had lived their lives together there; and they asked to die together.  And their request was granted.  

When they were of an extreme old age, they were standing in front of the temple, talking of old times, and Baucis saw Philemon sprouting leaves, and Philemon noticed the same of Baucis, and as the bark formed over their faces, they each spoke to the other their last words, “Farewell, my dear one.” And to this day, Bithynian peasants point to two trees standing close, growing from one double trunk. 

This story speaks of care and commitment; of lifelong love and love for strangers. Jacob Needleman (2005) notes that while most myths have their mystery in the middle, this one poses the mystery at the end: what kind of love can we search for and build in our journey of living together? What do we serve in each other with our love?  The story of Baucis and Philemon evokes questions about the meaning, nature and evolution of love.  What is love? What does love mean to you? What does it mean to be in love? What does it mean to love someone (or something)? What kinds of love are there? What does it feel like to be loved? What are the costs of love?  What do you get from love? What do you give in love?

Needleman, J. (2005). The Wisdom of Love: Toward a Shared Inner Life. Standpoint, ID: Morning Light Press.

the rice farmer, the fire and the tsunami

On By MaryIn love1 Comment

This is a story about community and love.

In Japan, Diachi was a rice farmer whose fields extended across an expanse of hill tops.  The neighbors often pitied Diachi and his family because of all of the additional difficulties they had to deal with as they struggled to farm the slopes of the hills. Each day however Diachi would work in their rice fields, and as they worked they would look out and see the ocean beyond the lands and they would pause and bask in the awe of its beauty and power.

 One day as Diachi was working his rice fields he looked out and noticed the ocean seemed to be drawing back, getting ready to leap like a wild animal. He knew the leap would be a tsunami. Diachi also knew that his neighbors who were working in the low lying fields must very quickly get to the high grounds of his hill or they would be swept out to the ocean in the overwhelming surge of waves where they would surely drown.  Without hesitating, Diachi and his wife set fire to their rice racks while the children desperately rang the temple bells. (In their community, everyone would respond to a fire bell because it is all too well known that no one can fight a fire alone – and a fire means starvation for a family.) Hearing the bell and seeing the smoke, Diachi’s neighbors rushed to help him and his family. As the villagers crested the hill and put out the fire, they turned back to see their own rice fields covered in walls of ocean waves. From the safety of the hills, they saw the torrents of the waters over the fields they had just left. The villagers recognized quickly saw that Diachi’s years of toil in difficult circumstances, his awe and reverence for the ocean, his sacrifice of his crops had all come together to save their lives.

The habits that we build in the small actions and tasks of our day to day lives all build together to set the foundation for the options and choices that will be available to each of us in larger moments of crisis. The theme of altruistic love that reaches out to help those in need is a common across cultures, traditions and religions.

Saving fish from drowning

On By MaryIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

There are (at least) two recurrent and worrisome themes that anyone working bring about social change, anyone engaged in the alchemy of justice should keep in the front of our hearts and minds. One is Terry Goodkind’s second rule from the Wizards Rules in his Sword of Truth series. The Wizard’s second rule says that the greatest harm can result from the best intentions.  And the second theme is the assertion by Fritz Perls, the founder of Gestalt Psychology, which reminds us that 90% of what we see is projection. Amy Tan’s story of a man who dedicated his life to Saving Fish from Drowning is a great example of both of these themes.

Amy Tan tells the story of a pious man who daily explained to his followers that it is evil to take lives and noble to save them. And, so each day he pledged to save 100 lives. And each day he would drop his net into the lake – I think it was Lake Erie – and he would scoop out 100 fish. He would then place the fish on the bank where they would flop and twirl

“Don’t be scared” he would tell the fish, “I am saving you from drowning.”  Soon enough the fish would grow calm and lie still. Yet sad to say, he was always too late. The fish always died.

And because it is evil to waste anything, he would take those dead fish to market and sell them for a good price at the market – it might have been the Fulton Fish Market in the Bronx.

With the money he received, he would buy more nets so he could save more fish.

He just wanted to help save lives.

He had the best of intentions. He saw the fish in need of saving. He say himself as their savior. We each need to view the process and practices of work for social change, for the alchemy of justice, through the lens of accurate empathy, compassion and respect for unique and particular vulnerabilities and dignity. The skills of listening and deep empathy are important tools to facilitate this process.

Mary’s Last Lecture: A Retrospective Pastiche of Potholes and Passages

On By MaryIn human rights, social justice, stories for social changeLeave a comment

If you missed the lecture because you had to be somewhere else or because you had a bit of a nap, here it is. 

(You know, click the title): Mary’s Last Lecture: A Pastiche of Potholes And Passages

please feel free to comment, discuss or let me know what you think?

thanks!

Be well … and … may your work, your love, your lives be filled with beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence!

mary

PS.  more blogs are on their way! this is just my last lecture as an academic.

ENJOY

Fear, Generosity and spoons with long handles

On By MaryIn growth into humanity, spiritual growth1 Comment

Once upon a time in a place both very near to my heart and very distant from here and now, there were two villages, Metus and Gratia.

In the village known as Metus, the people lived in fear. They have learned to distrust each other, and the communal belief was that each person had better take care of his or her self, because no one else could be trusted to so. The most common saying among the villagers was that help’s sir name was Godot, and there was no point in waiting for Godot!  

One day the Queen mandated a communal feast. And, all of the villagers were summoned to sit around at a huge table full of food. The Queen’s men saw to it that the bowls on the table were always full and overflowing. The villagers of Metus cursed the Queen and her men, they knew the food on the table was a cruel joke meant to taunt them. As part of the feast day celebrations, each of the villagers had spoons with long handles attached to their arms and they couldn’t reach their own mouths with the spoons, because the handles were too long. When they tried to feed themselves the food fell uselessly to the table. Their bowls were overflowing but they were all starving to death at the feast. They saw the feast as cruel punishment by a cynical and uncaring Queen.

In the village of Gratia, the people grew up living lives that were steeped in gratitude, generosity, and love. Like their distant relative in Africa, they understood relationships in the spirit of Ubuntu, “I am because you are.” The villagers of Gratia shared a sense of deep interconnectedness and a commitment to love, nurture and to see to the well being of each of the members of the community

As with the villagers of Metus, one day the Queen called for a communal feast in the Village of Gratia. All of the villagers were invited to be seated at a huge table full of food. The Queens men saw to it that bowls of food on the table were always full and overflowing. The villagers of Gratia knew the food was a joyous gift of generosity from their beloved Queen and they thoroughly enjoyed the day of celebration. To highlight celebration of Ubuntu that wove throughout the day, everyone had spoons with long handles attached to their arms. While in fact the handles were so long that they could not feed themselves, no one in Gratia noticed. They were all laughing and joyously feeding one another.

When we share with each other there is always more than enough, yet when we are afraid of sharing there is never enough.

When we open our hearts and share with each other there is always more than enough love, power and food. Will we see the spoons as obstacles or connections? Any crisis can be rendered into danger or an opportunity.

Two Nuns, Chastity and the Drowning Young Man

On By MaryIn Cloister of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene, growth into humanity, spiritual growthLeave a comment

Not far from Flemington there is a cloistered convent of the good sisters of Saint Mary Magdalene. Sisters living in a cloister have chosen to set themselves apart from the rest of society, and have dedicated themselves to a simple life of prayer, work and community within the walls of the convent.  Sisters of this Order have pledged themselves to pray always, and as do all religious, to honor the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. 

As it happens, this convent is very near to the Raritan River, and so, on occasion, the sisters will walk along the river, often in pairs, as they chant their devotions. One balmy spring afternoon, just after one of those torrential ‘spring showers’ that we are wont to have in central New Jersey, two of the good sisters were strolling along the banks of the river which was rushing past them with three times its normal volume and twice its speed, struggling to carry off the drainage from the rains. As the sisters walked and prayed in silence, they noticed a young man in the river, obviously in trouble, going under for the third time. Without hesitation, Sister Visentia shed her outer robes, jumped into the river, pulled out the young man – who she soon noticed was quite, well, shall we say, unclothed – and administered mouth to mouth resuscitation to him to help restart his breathing.  Very quickly he was revived. He concurrently noticed his own nakedness and saw that the two women were Sisters from the cloister. Embarrassed, he profusely thanked Sister Visentia, covered what he could with his hands, and ran off down the river away from the convent grounds.  Sister Visentia put her robes back on, and the two Sisters continued their prayerful walk along the river.

Sometime later, after they had walked and prayed for a goodly while, Sister Septimus turned to Sister Visentia, looked at her accusingly and said, “How could you so callously break your vows without any hesitation or remorse? You tore your close off in front of a man, you touched his body in all of its nakedness, and you pressed your lips to his! And now you continue to walk and pray as if nothing aberrant has happened! Have you no shame or remorse? Have you no respect for your vows?!?”

Sister Visentia looked very calmly at Sister Septimus and replied, “Well Sister, I only did what was necessary to save the life of one of our Creator’s blessed souls. What could be greater respect for my vows, for the commitment of our community to honor the Creator’s work in all that we do? How could I let such a fine example of that creation be lost before its time? And, besides, my dear Sister, I put that young man’s body down a long time ago, right there on the bank of the river where I found him. Why are you still carrying his naked body with you all this time later?”

Why indeed. The letter and the spirit of the law, the letter and the spirit of our commitments and goals can at times seem to be in conflict.

I really like this story because it reminds me of the importance of remembering what is really important, the essence of our goals and commitments. It also reminds me of the importance of letting go; of the importance of forgiveness; of the self incrimination and futility of judging others. 

If I were REALLY doing a total rewrite of the story instead of the minor tweaking liberties that I took, I would have Sister Visentia turn to Sister Septimus and sing song: “I am rubber and you are glue, and whatever you think or say about me, bounces off me and sticks on you!”  But I guess that really doesn’t fit with the spirit of the story, so I won’t.  I will indulge in one more moral though: remember Fritz Perls assertion that 80% percent of what we see is a projection of our own stuff.  That should give us pause when we are ready to indict someone for what their words or actions implied.  Was it implied, or are we reading our own fear, guilt or suppressed desires onto the canvas of someone else’s life? Indeed, “I am rubber and you are glue, and whatever you think or say about me, bounces off me and sticks on you!”

Parable of the Cracked Pot

On By MaryIn growth into humanity, love1 Comment

There was a woman who lived out in the country, not far from where I grew up in North East Pennsylvania, she lived so far out in the country, that her home did not have electricity or running water. So, each morning, she would take up her yoke with a large pot hanging on both ends, and down to the spring she would walk to get her water for the day.

 One of the pots was seamless and always carried its full capacity of water back to the home. The other pot had a crack in it, and by the time they arrived home, it was only half full. This journey went on for several years, with the woman arriving home with only one and half post of water to her home each day. Now, of course anthropomorphism was alive and well there and in this story! So, the seamless pot was proud of its accomplishments, and would often taunt the cracked pot about its failure to deliver.

 And of course, the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and was miserable that is was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After years of what is perceived to be bitter failure, with a sad heart, one day, the cracked pot spoke to the woman as they stood on the edge of the stream: “I am so ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. I feel a failure. I let you down each day as you work so hard at your tasks.”

 The woman said to the pot, “Did you not notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That is because I have always known about your structure, and I planted flowers on your side of the path. Every day while we walk back, you’ve watered them. For years, I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house, to make our house a home.”

 One moral of the story: each of us has our own unique structure and possibilities. We’re all cracked pots. But it is the cracks and idiosyncrasies we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. It is those very diversities that add spice and zest to life! we’ve just got to take each person for who they are and look for the good in them. To see the goodness in someone, to will and to act to make that goodness grow – that is love, that is the deepest respect for human dignity. We just need to be awake to the possibilities and the potentials.