Faith Story 2

After reading GannetGirl's faith story of losing her mother and baby brother when she was only 10 years old Getting Here (II), I am realizing the connection we forge through our stories. So I will go to the next phase of mine, after my marriage to CB at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Bellingham, WA in 1971 (when we were both too young, which my mother pointed out to me, but I ignored).

After CB and I got married, we moved to Virginia where he worked for Georgia-Pacific and I taught third grade in a little school that had recently been integrated. Every month we had to count the number of black boys and girls, and the number of white boys and girls. In 1974 we moved to Corvallis, Oregon so CB could go to graduate school to get a PhD. in organic chemistry. For four years we lived in married student housing. He rode his bike to campus, and I drove to the middle of the coast range of mountains to teach at a little school in Eddyville, which had a school, a church, and a post office in a trailer. The school had 250 kids in grades K-12. Then in August 1978 we moved to Corpus Christi where CB had gotten a job with a chemical company to be a research chemist. It was a great shock to be in Corpus with its heat, flatness, and lack of trees and so far away from our families and friends! I taught third grade in an extremely poor area of the city and somehow got ALL the resource (special ed) kids in third grade in my class! It was a shock to teach in south Texas, and that was the last year I ever taught in the public school system.

My oldest son DC turned 28 years old a few days ago, and it is a little odd to think the both CB and I were 28 when we bought our very first house and got our first little dog, a blonde cocker spaniel puppy we named "Bagel." (That reminds me of when CB and I moved from VA to OR and visited friends in Idaho--the husband asked CB if we were ever going to have kids, and CB answered that he'd rather have a dog!) And at 28, I had my first baby, DC. I was lucky enough to stay home with him.

Have you noticed that I haven't mentioned God? The thought of the Divine never occurred to us, not even when we celebrated Christmas and Easter, not even realizing we were observing the secular holidays, not the religious ones. CB and I celebrated as both of our families did--no church at all.

Although CB did not tell me until years later, DC’s birth was when CB began to believe in God. He saw new life emerge in his firstborn. In 1980, a year after DC was born, we joined All Saints Episcopal Church, which is the church I returned to three years ago. Way opened, but I chose not to see it then. Chuck got very involved with the men of the church, especially because he was friends with someone who also worked at his company. I held back, feeling shy and overwhelmed with DC and then baby AE, who woke up at night. Since I didn’t like cookies being served in the nursery, I stopped going and stayed home with the baby. That was my excuse. Chuck went to church on Sundays and then played golf on Saturdays, so I began to resent the church (never thinking God was involved at all) for taking him away from me. Chuck kept going until we moved to Dallas in 1985, after BJ was born. Than we stopped going to church again for the next seven years.

I did not see God even when my first three children were baptized at All Saints before we moved to Dallas. I think I posted somewhere else about how God gifted me with a new view of those baptisms when I was in church for a baptism last month--that even though I was unaware of the liturgy, sacraments, the Divine--only being occupied with my small wiggling children--God was still working within us all. The Divine Reality is present whether I am aware or not.

I also see that God drew me into the loving and supportive community of La Leche League before DC's birth and through the births and childhoods of my other three children, which I wrote about here Absence of God I was helped so much in that community and became the mother my mom did not know how to be in the 1950's with the emphasis upon scientific upbringing. All love is of God, and the love I learned about, experienced and learned to live out, was of God.

As Parker Palmer wrote about, the way opened for me in various ways, and sometimes I can look back now and see where I joined in. As time goes on, I may see how more ways opened also. I am grateful at how God has opened my heart to see his presence in my life, even when I was not living in acknowledgement of the Divine.

Prayer as Gratefulness

"We must distinguish prayer from prayers. Saying prayers is one activity among others. But prayer is an attitude of the heart than can transform every activity. We cannot say prayers at all times, but we out to 'pray without ceasing' (1 Thess 5:17). That means we ought to keep our heart open for the meaning of life. Gratefulness is, therefore, prayerfulness. Moments in which we drink deeply from the source of meaning are moments of prayer, whether we call them so or not. There is no human heart that does not pray, at least in deep dreams that nourish life with meaning. What matters is prayer, not prayers. But prayers are the poetry of prayerful living. Just as poetry gives expression to one's aliveness and makes one more alive, so prayers give expression to one's prayerfulness and make one more prayerful."

David Steindl-Rast. Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer. NY: Paulist Press, 1984. 211-212.

Small wedding on 7-7-07

I was invited to attend a small wedding this afternoon at All Saints Episcopal Church. Only 12 people were there, plus the bride, groom, and priest. I felt honored to be included, because I've only known the bride for two years and everyone else for 15 years or longer. This is a joyous second marriage for Jackie, who had never anticipated having a romantic relationship again.

While the lovely service went on, I realized that I had not been to an Episcopal wedding since CB and I were married in 1971! As the beautiful words were read and prayed, I wondered if those had been said at our wedding. In my unawareness, God bound us together and blessed us. What a lovely revelation to experience in the joy of Jackie and Aldo's union.

In fact, when I talked about the wedding at dinner tonight, CB jokingly told MJ that we'd been "handcuffed." I had no idea what he meant, until he talked about our hands being bound with something, and then it came to me that he was remembering the priest wrapping our hands with his stole to bless the union, but until today CB hadn't know what that was about!

Fr. David gave a little homily about gratefulness, because the couple had chosen the Beatitudes for the Gospel reading. He told us that they were only the second couple he'd ever married to request that reading. Be grateful always, even when things are not going well, in suffering, in despair, and in anger. What a good reminder.

Today was a day for rejoicing and remembering.

And this reminds me of a favorite book of mine--"Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer" by David Steindl-Rast. If you have not read this, please get it and read it. Also, Brother David Steindl-Rast's website (Gratefulness) is over in my links. You can even go there and light a cyber-candle for a cause or loved one.

"'Home is where one starts from,' says T. S. Elliot. And this is one way of saying that love is not only the end, but the beginning of all. What we find, when we find our heart (and remember, gratefulness is the key), is God's own life within us. It has been going on from 'before always,' as C. S. Lewis likes to put it. . . .Our heart is rooted in that ultimate belonging. We do not have to earn this, nor do we have to deserve it. It is gratis--pure grace, pure gift. We need only enter into this fullness through gratefulness." (188-189)

Undercutting Democracy

By Trudy Rubin

Inquirer Columnist

A recent trip to the Middle East provides a sobering reminder of the uniqueness of our democracy - and the folly of thinking we can impose our system on far-off lands.

During a June visit to Iraq, well-educated Iraqis told me they yearned for another dictator, though not a psychopath such as Saddam Hussein.

"We want someone really firm who would implement laws," one young Iraqi journalist named Mohammed said, echoing many comments I heard. Who could blame him for preferring an autocrat to a so-called democracy that can't protect its citizens or provide for their welfare?

Mohammed's plaint should make us appreciate the limits on exporting our model, and reexamine our own democracy at home.

On July Fourth, Americans should ponder the historical uniqueness of the Founding Fathers. The Declaration of Independence draws not only on Christian beliefs in the rights endowed by the creator, and on Greek concepts of self-government. Our luckiest break: The Founders were steeped in the British concept of rule of law that had evolved over centuries - the idea that leaders must be subject to the same laws as citizens.

Many of the Founders were lawyers. To them, the idea of rule of law was essential; it served as a rallying cry in the struggle for independence. They also were exceptional leaders and, despite their differences, mostly agreed on the core principles of a new system.

Most Americans take this British heritage for granted and don't fully appreciate its value. Think of South America, where a strict patriarchal tradition undercuts democracy to this day. Or Russia, where leaders adhere to "rule by law," meaning laws are used as clubs by those in power.

In much of the world - including the Middle East - rule of law is a term with little meaning. In Iraq, which lived 40 years under a brutal dictator, a new constitution offers little to people beset by criminal gangs, militias and religious fanatics.

Iraq also is the victim of false analogies about the ease of exporting democracy. President Bush compared Iraq to postwar Japan and Germany - wealthy nations, completely defeated in battle, whose new leaders and publics were ready for a change. The president also compared Iraq, wrongly, to central Europe; this region quickly rebounded from communist dictatorships because it had a history of democracy and links to the West.

The most ludicrous comparison, by former deputy defense secretary Paul Wolfowitz, compared Iraq to post-liberation France. Wolfowitz believed Iraqi exile leader Ahmad Chalabi could establish an Iraqi democracy as Charles de Gaulle did after World War II.

But the abolition of Iraq's main national institutions - its army, the Baath party, its state factories - left the country without a cohesive framework. Ordinary people fell back on the only available social networks: the mosque, new sectarian political parties and religious militias. Elections only solidified the divide, since people voted for sectarian parties. The educated middle class is fleeing abroad.

None of this says Iraqis don't deserve better than Hussein or the current chaos. Nor should it prevent U.S. aid to genuine Arab democrats, an endangered species badly undercut by our mistakes in Iraq.

But the Iraq tragedy should pierce the hubris of those who think the U.S. system can be easily imposed on another country. July Fourth is the right moment to reflect on what makes our own system work.

Just as the Bush team misjudged our ability to export our system, it has been cavalier toward rule of law at home. Guantánamo; Abu Ghraib; domestic spying without court order; White House efforts to expand executive power and install a radical, activist Supreme Court - all chip away at our system's core values. The White House seems bent on undercutting the checks and balances devised by the Founders.

The Islamist terrorist threat - which may continue for years - should not push Americans to abandon the values that set them apart from the non-rule-of-law world. If changes are to be made in our system, they should be made not in secrecy, but as part of an open national debate.

Our failures in Iraq have undercut the appeal of democracy in the Middle East and elsewhere. Our failure to adhere to our founders' values undercuts our own system. It does a disservice to the unique leaders whose legacy we honor today.

http://www.philly.com/inquirer/columnists/trudy_rubin/20070704_Worldview___Exporting_U_S__democracy.html

Friday List

Via Serena, I have the following:
Today's edition of RGBP Friday Five is the following "oldie"

Today what are you:

1. wearing: flax camp shirt and flax crop pants, with comfortable sandals (always in south Texas). I have a very fashionable friend who told me that I'm too "young" to wear comfortable shoes, but that's all I wear anymore!

2. reading: (All of them??) "The Hidden Heart of the Cosmos" by Brian Swimme; "The View from the Center of the Universe" by Joel R. Primach and Nancy Ellen Abrams; "Silence on Fire" by William Shannon and some others lying around. . . .

3. eating: a couple chocolate covered Altoids (which daughter AE says are "gross")

4. doing: on the computer, avoiding cleaning and writing a Sunday School series on "God and the Universe: which starts this Sunday.

5. pondering: evolving ideas about "church" and "God" . . . morality of killing--after a conversation with AE a few days ago, about the SAME wrong being committed by terrorists with innocent people and soldiers in war (especially U. S. soldiers). . . . remember my oldest son's birth 28 years ago today. . . . pondering. . . . ."God and the Universe". . . . .

Church or God?

Maybe this is part of my "faith story," maybe not. Just the comments and my thoughts from My Faith Story 1 have spawned further ramblings.

I remember that my mother in her later years would say, "Sometime I will start going to church." She never did. And in the periods of my religiosity until the 1990's, I thought "going to church" was what one did if one wanted to be "religious." The vision of God being the Master Clockmaker was in our minds, I'm sure, so that "church" was where to go, because God was far away. (God existed, but after creating, left the world to be on its own.)

For too long, I expected "church" to provide the experience of God, and if that didn't materialize, that was what "church" was like. This may be what Mompriest was talking about in her comment about the way the church of the 1950's was--though I have to say that's what I experienced through the 1990's, and it is probably how my three oldest children feel nowadays.

Now I am saddened to see how I had no conception of a relationship with God and only realized the "necessity" of going "to church." Somehow, "church" and "God" meant the same thing, which did not carry much emotional (spiritual?) connection. What is worse is that this attitude was conveyed to our children (as my husband seemed to feel the same way).

This has been nagging at me for awhile, because my daughter AE, who lives in Seattle, talks about "church" and all the things she objects to over time that it has done wrong and equates all this with "God." This "God" she does not believe in. (Me, neither.) More and more, I think she does not believe in "church."

Maybe it's easier to look at "church" because it's concrete. The Holy One continues to love and change me, which is proof for me, but not scientifically provable. Our post-enlightenment minds (Look at What’s the point of Christianity?) want to know "WHY?" when the proper response is "WHO is with me/us?"

New poem for discussion!

Diane posted a new poem to consider, and now I'm copying MomPriest's idea of linking to Diane's poem--so go read To Be of Use

My Faith Story 1--My youth

Parker Palmer, who is a Quaker writer and teacher, related a story I remember often in his book, Let Your Life Speak. Parker was given traditional Quaker advice when he was seeking a new direction in his life, “Have faith, and way will open.”

“I have faith,” he thought to myself. “What I don’t have is time to wait for ‘way’ to open. I’m approaching middle age at warp speed, and I have yet to find a vocational path that feels right. The only way that’s opened so far is the wrong way.” –Haven’t we all felt this way?-- Parker was frustrated and finally sought out an older Quaker woman well known for her thoughtfulness and candor.

Ruth’s reply was a model of Quaker plain-speaking. “I’m a birthright Friend,” she said somberly, “and in sixty-plus years of living, way has never opened in front of me.” She paused, and Parker started sinking into despair. Was this wise woman telling him that the Quaker concept of God’s guidance was a hoax?

Then she spoke again, this time with a grin, “But a lot of way has closed behind me, and that’s had the same guiding effect.” (p. 38)

Now I am looking back and see how way was opened and closed behind me in the past, whether I knew it or not at the time.

So much of my life was spent unaware of God. I did not have a family or church community who told me about God. My dad was in the Marine Corps and we moved to different military bases every few years. I was an only child, and sometimes my parents would drop me off for Sunday School at the base non-denominational church, but not consistently. In such a life, way didn’t seem to open, as we were sent wherever and whenever the Marine Corps ordered my dad to go. There never seemed to be a choice in how we lived—we never saw or thought of looking for a way to open.

Aren’t you aware of people, probably many of you, who grew up in a faithful family where God was acknowledged and worshipped? They have a different sense of life, with a holy knowing within. Others, like me, experience that more and more as time goes on, but it has felt like a striving on my part until fairly recently. There is this faith that whether the way opens or not, God is with us.

I did not grow up with that. In my 40s, I looked back on my life as one where God was not. And only recently have I seen how way was opened to me when I was younger, and how I followed, but usually got distracted. Still, I know now that God was inviting me continually into relationship, but I didn’t know that was possible for a very long time.

Basically, I grew up in an unchurched family. So it is surprising to look back to see how I asked to be baptized in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Bellingham, Wash. when I was in 11^th grade. I’d been going to services there for awhile, by myself and wanted to become an Episcopalian, as my unknown grandfather had been. My parents were indifferent to my interest in the Episcopal Church and did not attend my baptism or my confirmation. Their attitude was so natural that I did not even consider that they should attend! I continued to attend services throughout college until CB and I were married in that same church, even though he claimed to be an atheist. And that’s when we both stopped going to church.

Can’t you see way opened for me? God brought me into the Episcopal Church, with no one inviting me except him. There was a period of five years that I regularly attended services. I was shy and did not meet other people, and now I don’t remember ever being advised on spiritual practices, not even prayer. I just thought I was supposed to go to church! And then I wondered why I didn’t feel anything like the Jesus Freaks around our college campus. I guess I thought I was supposed to have an emotional experience, which never came—that burning bush! Sometimes I would even announce in my bedroom, “I take Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior”—and nothing happened. So I definitely felt that God was off in his heaven, and left us on our own.

Happy Interdependence Day!

Too much rain here for much outside celebration. The last time I posted, on Monday, we got 10 inches of rain in one day!

Grandmère Mimi has a picture of flags that we need to remember and hold in our hearts today and every day.

On a different note, here is an article I enjoyed in my email today, entitled "True In-dependence." I always like quotes and St. Seraphim of Sarov is a favorite. http://explorefaith.org/july4/In_dependence.html

And a retired Methodist minister friend has told me that he and others are calling today "INTERDEPENDENCE DAY." (This comes from Tikkun founder Rabbi Michael Lerner. You can read about his proclamation about this 4th of July becoming Interdependence Day at
http://www.tikkun.org/rabbilernerarticles/julyfourth/view?searchterm=Interdependence%20Day

O, Holy One, help us to remember you and how you connect us to everyone and everything. Help us to celebrate our interdependence. Amen.

Rain

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring.

We've had thunderstorms booming and pouring rain since 4:30 this morning. Baillie, our cocker spaniel, is scared of the thunder, because she learned this from her former older "sister," Licorice, a black lab, who died last year. Cisco, the young shepherd mix the children gave my strong, quiet husband CB at Christmas, is not afraid.

I like rain, since I spent much of my life, before Corpus Christi, TX, in the Pacific Northwest. I am always deluded by the weather here though--as I look out the windows (and the air conditioner is running), I expect that it would be cool outside. Yes, it's somewhat "cooler," but still in the 80s and very humid.

The 13 year old addition that connects the sunroom (where two computers sit on different desks) with the laundry room and a bedroom has a roof that is leaking again. In more spots than ever. Over the past few years, CB has "fixed" various spots around the seeming origin--even so much as re-roofing that part of the roof. I'm glad he is so proficient at repairs. Now we have two buckets collecting water. . . .

I remember when I first moved to Corpus Christi from Oregon in 1978, I read an article in the local newspaper that warned about the coming onslaught of mosquitoes (after thunderstorms, like the current ones). I still recall that this article said that there are over 200 different varieties of mosquitoes, and they ALL live in this area. So in a week or so, those will be swarming. . . .

And I still like the rain.

Name Four Things

Avoiding walking away from the computer, here is a leap into the latest meme:

Four Jobs I've Had
elementary school teacher
pre-school teacher
typist
coffee shop cook/cashier

Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over Again
The American President
Dave
Guarding Tess
Michael

Four Places I've Lived
(since I've been married)
Morristown, NJ
North Kingstown, RI
Richmond, VA
Corvallis, OR

Four Places I've Lived
(before marriage)
Yokosuka, Japan
Camp Pendleton, CA
Quantico, VA
Bellingham, WA

Four Places I've Vacationed
London, England
Berlin, Germany (visiting daughter AE)
Seoul, South Korea (visiting daughter AE)
Ashland, OR

Four of My Favorite Dishes
salmon
chocolate
raspberries (esp. grown in WA)
dungeness crab

Four Sites I Visit Daily
Email
My blog site
Friends and new friends' blogs
Amazon.com (almost daily!)

Four Places I'd Rather Be Right Now
Walking around Boulevard Park in Bellingham, WA as the sun sets
Living in my parents' house in Bellingham, which is rented out right now
Any place cool enough to walk outside (away from hot, muggy Corpus Christi, TX)
Seeing an outdoor play in Ashland, OR

When losing hope, pray.

The angst of the world, especially beyond our borders, makes me weep and moan, losing hope. There is still the Pax Christi bumper sticker on my desk, though not on my car, that says:
GOD BLESS THE WHOLE WORLD--NO EXCEPTIONS!

Seeking some help, I found this prayer by Walter Brueggemann:

You are the God who creates and recreates,

who judges and delivers,

who calls by name and makes new.

This much we gladly confess in praise and thanksgiving.

This much we trust and affirm . . .

Only to ponder the chance that we are too glib,

that we say more than we mean,

that we say more

than we can in fact risk.

We make our gingerly confession in a world filled

with those who cynically acknowledge none but themselves. . .

and we are their fellow travellers

with those who in vulnerability have no chance

but prayer to you . . .

and we stand in solidarity with them.

Thus we ask, beyond our critical reservations,

that you be your powerful, active, sovereign self.

Give us eyes to see your wonders around us;

Give us hearts to live into your risky miracles;

Give us tongues to praise you beyond our doubt.

For it is to you, only you, that we turn on behalf of the world

that waits in its deathliness for your act of life. Amen.

Walter Brueggemann

February 20, 2001

Brueggemann, Walter. Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter

Brueggemann. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003. 124.

Another Poem

No, no, there is no going back.
Less and less you are
that possibility you were.
More and more you have become
those lives and deaths
that have belonged to you.
You have become a sort of grave
containing much that was
and is no more in time, beloved
then, now, and always.
And so you have become a sort of tree
standing over the grave.
Now more than ever you can be
generous toward each day
that comes, young, to disappear
forever, and yet remain
unaging in the mind.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.

~ Wendell Berry ~

This goes along with the wise words in the post below. Thanks to all who commented. And thanks be to God!

Digging in the Dirt, thanks to Diane!

Because of Diane's post at http://faithincommunity.blogspot.com/ I have been digging around in my dirt of self and am finding that seeds were planted by her post and other's thoughts, plus my own! "Start small" and "it's never too late" keep coming to mind.

While talking with a relatively new friend yesterday, I told her how my mother had been a "strong-willed" woman. My friend asked me if I thought I was, and sadly, I didn't. I admire strong-willed women, but think of myself in a weaker way. However, this friend told me she was often surprised at what I said about myself, because she didn't see what I was talking about!

There was something to ponder.

Yesterday afternoon I saw my spiritual director, who also happens to be the priest at my Episcopal Church. Because of the earlier talk with my friend, the topic of character was on my mind. I told him how I didn't think of myself as being strong-willed; that I see my 25 year old daughter AE as strong-willed; that his wife is strong-willed; that I admire women who are strong-willed. I was surprised when he told me that he sees me as being strong-willed, and he gave me some examples. THEN he said, "But sometimes you do not have courage."

That is true. So I'm pondering what these two people I respect said about me. And Diane's post about "Digging in the Dirt" and starting a garden keeps reminding me to "start small" and that "it's never too late."

Being in community fosters growth. I appreciate being in this blogging community. Thanks be to God!

24 days until the last Harry Potter book arrives!

We will learn what happens to Harry Potter in the last book of J. K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deadly Hallows, on July 21, 2007 (unless you are not getting the book then). The books and the world of Hogwarts have enthralled me ever since they first appeared. Everyone in my family has read each one, often more than once--except for CB, my husband, ever the scientist. AE, my 25 year old daughter, even read one in Korean, while she was in South Korea. (She taught English there from 2003 to 2006.)

Following links along from Eighth Day Books http://www.eighthdaybooks.com/, I found this interesting article about the upcoming book and possible results. My liberal snobbishness comes out when I see that the article is from "Christianity Today," but I still liked what the author said.

If you are interested in Harry Potter and/or the new book, go to this site to read the article, "Waiting for Harry" http://www.christianitytoday.com/books/features/rumorsofglory/070625.html

Reading poetry aloud

When I read this poem today (three times!) aloud for the meditation at the beginning of the Wisdom Class reading group, I finally realized how important it is to read poetry out loud. Although I'd found this poem by Joy Harjo to be very meaningful when I read it silently to myself, when I read it aloud, the words came alive in a startling fashion.

So I suggest that you read the following poem aloud as you sit before this computer screen:

Eagle Poem

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can't see, can't hear
Can't know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren't always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circles in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon, within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

Joy Harjo ~

(How We Become Human: New and Selected Poems 1975-2001)

For other thoughts about poetry, go to Mompriest's posting at http://seekingauthenticvoice.blogspot.com/

"Nothing stays the same. Even if the view out your window is a vista known for many years, the view out your soul is constantly changing. Even if you stay put, you don't stay the same. Wherever you say them, today's prayers are different.

"Looking forward is nothing so simple as packing a suitcase. Looking forward means following a restless God to the next need and to the next discovery about life. It means letting God give you a new mind, a new heart, and wings to fly."

~By Tom Ehrich

http://www.onajourney.org/oaj/publications/meditation/20070625.jsp

Highlights from the conference on The New Cosmology

Dr. Brian Swimme spoke at the Oblate School of Theology's Summer Institute in San Antonio, TX on June 18-21:

• We're in the middle of a change of human consciousness. Our last cosmological view is exemplified by the painting in the Sistine Chapel of God reaching out to touch Adam's hand. Human kind thinks that creation occurs through "hands"--as in "take hold of the idea."
• The next galaxy of comparable size from our (Milky Way) galaxy is the Andromeda Galaxy, which is the furthest we can see with the naked eye. It is 2 1/2 million light years away from us. Back then there was homo habilis starting to use stone tools, but now we are beginning to see and understand galactic spaciousness--which also shows us the time dimension of human consciousness.
• We were not "placed" on a planet, but are emerging. Life is a deep expression of what was already here. [This goes along with Ken Wilber's thoughts in his book "Up From Eden."]
• Dr. Swimme talked about extinction and that about 20,000 species are eliminated each year in our current era. ["Based on a total of 10 million species, the current annual loss has been calculated to be 20,000 to 30,000 species."] http://www.grinningplanet.com/2004/07-13-2x/endangered-species-conservation-article.htm
• He said that the present moment is the worst in 65 million years, since the demise of the dinosaurs. Thus, he proposes this as the end of the cenozoic era and we're entering a new one.
• Swimme quoted Thomas Berry in suggesting that we need to learn how to live in a way that is "mutually enhancing"--which is moving from a world view of "hardware orientation" (earth is our "resource bin") to living in community/communion orientation.
• BIRTH OF A NEW ERA OF IMAGINATION: Do we have enough imagination to invent a new religion? [That's something to ponder. . . . .)
• REALIZE that the universe exists to display its beauty. (And we are IN the universe; thus a part of it.)
  
• EACH moment is the ultimate moment of fulfillment of the universe.
• Just to be what he/she is meant to be is fulfillment of the universe!

Also, go to http://www.viewfromthecenter.com/ to download a 6 minute viewing of the universe, which is spectacular. It brought tears to my eyes and realization of God's magnificence.

Our Own True Nature

A fish cannot drown in water,

A bird does not fall in air.

In the fire of its making,

Gold doesn’t vanish:

The fire brightens.

Each creature God made

Must live in its own true nature;

How could I resist my nature,

That lives for oneness with God?

~~Mechtild of Magdeburg

(1207? –1282? or 1297?)

Vote for your favorite first book!

I've always loved books, and when I found this link on the literacysite, I clicked on it to vote for my favorite first book. Evidently, you can vote on different days, because eventually the "state" chosen will receive 50,000 free books for children.

The book I voted for was "The Color Kittens" by Margaret Wise Brown. I love her books, especially "Good Night, Moon" and "The Runaway Bunny." However, I remember reading those last two books to MY children, but remember the first one being read to me.

http://www2.firstbook.org/whatbook/