Routes Of Presence

The abundance of hardship

2012-03-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

I am writing from the public library in downtown Charlottetown on a very cold but gloriously sunny day. It is always amazing to me how we get where we are (physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc)....I am on a tiny little island in the North Atlantic surrounded by snow and ice and feeling right at home. The reality of this is almost surreal!

Since I arrived on Prince Edward Island my computer has been very undependable, so I have decided that to keep it alive as long as I possibly can I am going to have to leave it at home during the day, using the computers at the library to do my social media work, job applications and writing until I save up enough to buy a new one. This means that I have to be strategic about what I do and when I do it. I found that initially this meant that I did not get much of my own creative writing done, but I am realizing that in the long-term it means that I just have to be better organized and more focused on getting my job applications and paid work done when I am in front of the computer so that I still have time left for my own creative writing and blogging.

This morning I woke before sunrise again. This is the sixth day of the Baha'i Fast, and, by some incredible blessing of the universe I am not only still healthy enough to Fast, I am actually feeling more joyful with each passing day. Hardship has a way of doing that somehow.

I was thinking as I walked downtown this morning to walk Chloe, the dog that I am currently taking care of, how many little blessings keep coming my way to keep me going. Last week it was the offer of this dog-walking job. This morning it was the request for me to babysit this weekend. And the response from one of the companies that I sent my resume to yesterday asking me to meet on Friday. And the response of another company to come by and speak with them next week even though they do not have any current openings. I am learning that even when meetings do not result in a job offer, the simple fact that I am meeting with people is an opportunity to learn, grow, and make new friends. Yesterday for example I attended an information session at a local hotel yesterday about doing an MBA at the university here. I have already done a Master's Degree in Island Studies, but with my interest in marketing and running my own business growing, I am kind of curious what it would be like to do an MBA. I am still not sure what I will not with this idea, but I am glad I went to the session. I not only met some great people, I also got to reflect on the idea of walking in a completely different direction for a while. It was refreshing!

Myself and three of the local youth in my community are in the process of organizing a screening of the documentary Education Under Fire. Education Under Fire is about the denial of access to higher education to Baha'i students and faculty in Iran. The situation there truly is very out of control, and thousands of young people are being deprived of their education and a future profession because of the descriminatory practices of the Iranian government. It is encouraging to see screening events sweeping across North American Campuses, and know that thousands of students will soon be standing alongside the young Baha'is of Iran, supporting them in their fight for access to education. As we were working on pulling the pieces together for our screening in Charlottetown last night, it was very inspiring to reflect on the fact that other groups are doing similar things all over the continent. To learn more about this exciting initiative and find out what action you can take in your community to speak out about access to education for Baha'i Iranian youth, visit the Education Under Fire website.

This afternoon I am taking part in a webinar on the new changes that are happening to Facebook at the end of the month, and how to use the new Facebook as a platform for marketing businesses. I am excited to be learning new skills that will help me to better serve my social media clients. This evening I will break the fast at the home of my dear friends Ann and Stephen. And tonight I will be attending the opening of a conference on the future of agriculture at the local farm centre.

Life is full and overflowing, friends. The universe, as a dear friend said to me in my kitchen back in California last summer, truly is abundant.

Back on track

2012-03-05T18:56:00.000-08:00

It is the first day of a new week, and I am getting back on track with my blog. I usually do a gratitude entry on Mondays. Here is what I am feeling grateful for on this chilly Monday night:

1. I managed to raise my tired body from bed before sunrise for a fourth day in a row to observe the Baha'i fast this morning. Since I was 15 I have never managed to make it through the entire 19 days of the Baha'i fast without getting sick. My body does not handle it well, no matter how much my heart desires it. Every day I am able to rise before dawn and eat something and pray, and make it through the day without the first symptoms of getting sick I feel incredibly grateful. Each day of this fast is SUCH a blessing.

2. I caught the bus on my first try this morning. I got to the bus stop literally one minute before it passed, and it dropped me off about five blocks from where I needed to be. I cannot tell you how blessed I felt to be driven downtown instead of having to walk this morning!

3. I began my first dog-walking job this morning with a sweet 13 year old tiny little dog who is the cutest. I have never walked a dog this tiny. I have to keep turning around to be sure she is still attached to the leash she is so light. For the time-being I will be walking her every morning at 8.30am and twice a week again in the afternoon at 4. Things have been incredibly tough lately, and the tiny income from this dog-walking is SUCH a blessing right now. Walking Chloe is not only going to put food on my table, but it also makes me smile because I have never seen a dog more excited to be going on a walk. She literally goes crazy when I arrive at the door!

4. I lost an earring in the snow this morning. One of my favourite earrings made of coral and turquoise. I backtracked, looking in the snow, and ran into a complete stranger out walking her dog who asked me what I was doing. A few minutes later this same woman came running back down the sidewalk -- she had found my earring. Blessed or what?

5. This evening one of my best friends met me for supper downtown. We had a simple but delicious meal together after not having eaten all day long, and then walked home together beneath a big, crisp black sky, trekking across fields of snow and over sheets of ice, each step our boots sinking deep down, leaving a trail of footprints across the crusty snow. In the distance the lights of Charlottetown looked like Christmas lights. There is something timeless about walking across snowy fields at night here. It makes me feel like I have gone back in time somehow. I stopped at Honeylyn's house for some water before continuing on home over ice-slicked sidewalks crusted with salt and flooded with the futuristic ghostly light of the streetlamps, my breath expanding and diffusing into the air ahead of me, my heart pumping in my chest, cheeks and nose cold. I had a great, joyful evening, and was thinking how thankful I am for strong legs that can carry me such long distances when I do not have access to a car to get around in.

6. My bed. I am truly grateful for a bed to rest in tonight, so that I can rise refreshed tomorrow to embrace my fifth day of the Baha'i fast.

And you, friends? What are you grateful for on this Monday?

Wind, ramblings & a 2nd day of fasting

2012-03-03T20:01:00.000-08:00

It is late Saturday night. I am sitting on the single bed in the apartment that I just moved into a couple of days ago. It is exceptionally quiet. Walking back into my bedroom tonight I feel a sense of relief to be entering a space that will probably remain the same for at least a couple of months. Since arriving on Prince Edward Island two months ago I have been moving back and forth between the homes of various friends -- trying to not overstay my welcome in any one place, just staying long enough to start remembering whether I should leave the toilet seat up or down, which burner on the stove I should not use, or which direction the cutlery should go into the dishwasher before I would move again and have to adjust my patterns to a new household. Don't get me wrong -- living with my friends has been awesome. Truly. Not only have a been staying in homes that are comfortable and cozy, filled with beautiful artwork, but I have gotten to come home at the end of every day and enjoy the company of people I love. But despite all of this, I have to say that it is nice to have my own space for a change -- even if it is almost completely empty.

The room that is currently home is bigger than any bedroom I have ever had before. One of my best friends loaned me a single bed, a table and a chair. I took a plastic box that I found in the cupboard and put it next to my bed as my bedside table, and another friend loaned me a little lamp. One end of the room is an enormous closet -- so big that I can literally get dressed inside of it (yes, I have tried). I arrived two days ago with one suitcase, a backpack, and a bag of food. It took me an hour to unpack my two pairs of jeans, one skirt, two dresses, four pairs of shoes, two sweaters, and ten shirts. Sitting on my bed looking around the room I feel a mixture of emotions: profound gratitude to the friend who asked her aunt if I could live in her spare bedroom for free for a couple of months while I continue to search for full-time work, and to her aunt who actually agreed; amazement that I am still here despite the reality that I have less money than I have ever had my entire life; disoriented in this large room with four white walls and almost no furniture; uncertainty about how I got here when only two months ago I was sitting in an overly-furnished room in my parents' home in northern California; and an equal amount of terror over my current reality and vulnerability, and deep-rooted certainty and faith that things are going exactly as they should be, and that I just need to put my trust in God and keep trying my hardest.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I have stayed at five different houses; trekked through deep snow; been blown along the sidewalk by freezing wind; eaten meals in restaurants, homes, bars, and coffee houses; seen foxes running across a frozen river at dusk; woken to the sound of frozen rain against the glass of my windows; met with at least fifty different people and given them my resume; reverted to my legs as my primary mode of transportation; started helping with a youth group; contacted complete strangers about pet-sitting, babysitting, cleaning, and any other cash-making venture that I could come up with; watched every single one of my recently-arrived-on-the-island friends get interviews and job offers; started doing social media for Timothy's coffee house and Lobster on the Wharf for free; continued doing social media work for two other companies; created my own social media business website; studied books about social media marketing; been given so many people's house keys that I have to wade through fist-fulls of them to find the ones to my current apartment; gotten locked out of my current apartment because my new set of keys would not open my door and my friend's aunt was asleep in bed; developed a crush on a man who slept through what I had thought was going to be our first date; hosted my first musical devotional gathering; cooked supper for friends in many different houses; enjoyed many, many excellent cups of tea at the farmer's market in the company of awesome friends on Saturday morning after Saturday morning; learned to walk my friends' dogs and pick up (and discard) dog shit (an activity I had assured my friends years ago that I would NEVER engage in); made a snow angel; enjoyed many, many meals/coffee dates with people I love; had my bank balance fall below 30 dollars for the first time in my entire life; learned to love almond butter on toast; taken a bus from downtown out to the farm I used to work before dawn, on and spent the day baking gluten-free muffins with my former employer's mother in the farmhouse kitchen; destroyed almost every pair of shoes I brought here with me in the salty slush on the roads; read the book The Help. Read the book The Memory Keeper's Daughter. Lay in bed listening to the wind howling around the building (as I am tonight); wondered how I got back here and whether the universe is going to allow me to stay, or if every effort I make to find work here will end in another dead-end; wondered where I will go if I have to leave here at the end of April...and these are only SOME of the things that have happened in the past few weeks.

Today was the second day of the Baha'i Fast. I woke before dawn, ate almond butter toast and sat in the silence of the half-light before sunrise praying and reading from the Baha'i writings before deciding to go back to bed for a couple more hours. I am trying to remain present and conscious of the preciousness of these days i am immersed in. Spiritually the fast is, according to the Baha'i writings, generating power that will be reverberating through my life for the entire rest of the year. It is hard to remember that every hour has a special significance, but when I do it helps me to slow down and be aware of how precious every moment of these 19 days of fasting is. I have always thought of the Fast as being from sunrise til sunset, but this Fast I am realising that even the hours when I am eating during this period count as part of the Fast. Even sitting here now typing with the wind howling outside I am trying to be aware of the significance of this night, this hour, and that I will be up again in six hours preparing for another day of Fasting.

It is almost midnight, and time to get some rest before the third dawn of the Fast. Outside wind pressing around the building. In here the sound of my fingers moving across the keys, my own breathing, the creak of floor boards as someone walks across the floor above.

Fasting & Interconnectedness

2012-03-02T19:10:00.000-08:00

I woke this morning to the first day of the Baha'i 19-day fast. Woke before sunrise to eat and drink and sit in silence and pray and read from the Baha'i writings before I begin my day. I have now begun my first day of fasting. For the next 19 days I will be abstaining from food and drink from sunrise til sunset, and using this time to reflect on my relationship with God, how I can better serve hu...manity, and how I can grow spiritually. This is such a precious time for me as a Baha'i-- a time of prayer, reflection, and consciousness about what I am doing with my every hour and why. There is a quote by Baha'u'llah, the founder of the Baha'i faith, that I love. It says: "All praise be unto God, Who hath revealed the law of obligatory prayer as a reminder to His servants, and enjoined on them the Fast that those possessed of means may become apprised of the woes and sufferings of the destitute." I find that experiencing hunger and thirst for 19 days is only one of the blessings of this special time....but it is an important one for me because it helps me to better understand and appreciate what so many in the world are experiencing on a daily basis -- many of them for most of their lives. In this sense it is all about interconnectedness, this fast. About recognizing that I am a human being just like any human being, and that hunger and thirst are universal problems in our world today, and ones that those of us who are fortunate to not experience every day cannot and should not just brush aside as inconsequential because we have been blessed with plenty. This time helps me to be more compassionate, more aware of what I do have, more grateful, and more connected to all of my brothers and sisters around the world, and how my choices, voice, and actions influence their lives, and their experiences, courage, faith, patience and ongoing suffering influence mine.

Snow falling on morning

2012-02-18T19:26:00.000-08:00

When I went to bed late last night it had started snowing steadily, the streets quickly being blanketed in a soft layer of wet snow. I woke up this morning quite early, came downstairs to let the dog out, and when I opened the curtains to let in the morning light what I saw was so beautiful it stopped my breath. Every edge, every branch, every step and eave and sill were outlined with light fluffy ice crystals, and snow still fell soft and gentle over the already rounded edges of the world. In the uppermost branches of the snow illuminated trees, a few crows were perched, as if in a painting. The snowploughs had not been through, and everyone was still in bed, so the neighbourhood was intensely quiet. There is something gentle and soothing about this kind of snow...the kind not accompanied by howling winds and freezing temperatures. It feels like the sky is somehow caressing the earth, trees, rooftops, fences and wings of the birds as they dart from perch to perch.

I went back upstairs and got my camera, came back down to the kitchen and took some photos of the view. As I was shooting I noticed a flash of light coming from the neighbour's door across the way. I looked over at his door to see him also capturing the brilliance of the day behind the shutter of his camera. It made me smile at how human both recognizing beauty and wanting to capture it in some way is.

I have to find a way to get my photos off of my camera as I forgot my USB connector in California, but am hoping to find a way to transfer photos soon, and will be sure to share my morning shots with you, friends!

Courage looks like this

2012-02-16T20:42:00.000-08:00

I read a blog entry this evening by Jennifer Pastiloff entitled "What does courage mean to you?" It was a great article, and it made me stop and reflect on the last few weeks of my life, and how many people have told me how courageously I am living.

It is interesting to me that I rarely recognize as courageous behaviour that those around me consider to be so. Isn't it always like that in life though? Our most powerful, inspired, strong, empowered, or courageous moments are ones in which we are so immersed in whatever we are doing that we do not actually stop and take a step back from what is happening and see it for what it is -- truly miraculous!

On December 28th I caught a plane back to Prince Edward Island. I had a two-week ticket, which I was secretly praying I would never have to use the return portion of. Since arriving so many things have happened, and so much is STILL HAPPENING that it is quite clear to me that there has been considerable amounts of divine intervention on my behalf being dispersed into the universe over the last six weeks. Here are some of the incredible things that have happened:

1. My computer stopped working (as in it was completely, utterly dead, friends) and then after ten days of not working miraculously (not) started again one fine day.

2. My incredibly generous, patient and encouraging friends have welcomed me into their homes, given me a bed, fed me (I have done some of the cooking!!) and let me use their washing machines, showers, and internet connections for over six weeks. For free. And despite a few minor miscommunications, we all still love each other. Doesn't scream divine intervention in capital letters? You tell me.

3. Someone is willing to hire me and help me apply for a full-time work visa (fingers crossed....so far so good).

4. Two acquaintances have offered to have me move in with them (and their husbands and kids...I'm telling you....I am surrounded by guardian angels) if I have to find a room and still do not have full time work when this happens.

5. I was at the farmer's market two weeks ago at the end of the day when everyone was packing up and going home and someone gave me a freshly cooked meal for free because they had leftovers, another person gave me two home-baked cookies and two scones for free (again, too many left over), and a third person gave me two bags of organic bean sprouts. Add that to the farm-fresh eggs that Ricky, my former boss's brother gave me ON THE FARM where they were laid, the organic beef that my former boss gave me last week, and the organic pumpkin that my former boss's mother gave me that I used to make pumpkin mushroom risotto for friends a few weeks ago.

6. I may have just scored an absolutely AWESOME social media job for a local coffee shop that sells tea and coffee from local businesses..... I offered to do it for free until I get my work visa, but the manager has offered me free tea from the company I used to write for in exchange for my work. SWEET!

7. I am currently house and dog-sitting for my dear friends Ann and Stephen. They live in a gorgeous home in one of the cutest neighbourhoods in town with a fake fireplace (fire currently burning to my left as I type), and the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in. AND they left me their car too. I cannot tell you how blessed I was feeling driving home from a study circle that I was facilitating tonight, instead of walking in the cold, sitting on a seat that actually heats up at the push of a button. As if having wheels were not enough, the seats heat up. I mean, really friends :-)

8. My dear friend Louise, who has put up with having me as a house guest longer than anyone else since I arrived, bought me a box of dried figs that she gave to me when I left to move over to Ann and Stephen's house today. Figs + fireplace + time to blog in the late quiet hours of the night = heaven, pure and simple.

9. Whenever I start running low on funds, someone steps up and asks me to pet-sit, clean their kitchen, babysit, or take notes at a meeting.

10. I am meeting one of my best friends for breakfast tomorrow morning.

There is more I could list here, but I think you get the picture. The universe is smiling down on me.

But to get back to courage....

Coming back here has required a lot of courage on my part. I rarely stop to recognize it as such, but it is true. A lot of people have questioned this decision. I was after all living in California--the land of opportunity. And I DID leave Prince Edward Island two years ago after much prayer and soul-searching to follow my heart. But it is the very same heart that has led me back here, and I am learning to trust it despite the doubt and confusion being expressed by family and friends. Why am I back in a country where I have no legal right to work and where I cannot actually afford rent until I find full time work and obtain a work visa when my priority is finding stable work? Why am I back in the North Atlantic where the temperature drops below zero and usually remains there for many months before rising above freezing again in the (very) late spring when I could be living in the land of sun and warmth? And why am I returning to a place with so few single men my age when one of my reasons for leaving was to meet someone to share my life with? Good questions, and ones that I do not have very good answers to. But for the first time in a long time I am not questioning where I am or why. I am not wishing I were elsewhere doing something other than what I am doing. Sure it is tough to have to walk everywhere in the cold, and staying with friends non-stop has meant that I have had to learn to be more flexible and adaptable, and trying to live on random jobs here and there is far from ideal, but I am surrounded by people whose company I adore, land that I love and feels like home, and non-stop opportunities to be of service to my community. Things just feel right. Even when they are tough.

I am not sure, of course, that I will be able to stay here. But I will be here until the end of April, and I am incredibly grateful for the extra two months to work on trying to build a life for myself here again. Sometimes you have to leave a place to be able to come back and call it home. And sometimes you have you trust that a foothold will be set in front of you even though you cannot actually see where you are headed.

People tell me all the time that it must be really stressful to be in my situation, but to be honest, it isn't. I have not felt much stress at all since arriving here. I feel some deep-rooted certainty that everything is going to work out somehow. I call that faith, but I guess another word for that would be courage.

Finding joy in uncertainty

2012-02-08T15:35:00.000-08:00

It has been a little while since I last wrote, and I have been missing writing and hearing your responses by email, in the comments section, or on my Facebook page. Thank you for being such faithful readers, and for all the encouragement to keep up my blog despite having limited time to devote to it during this period. I will be getting more regular again within the next month, so you can expect to see more from me soon!

It is Wednesday evening. I have spent the last week and a half visiting every media business I know in Charlottetown looking for marketing work. As those of you who have been reading this blog for a while now know, there are two things I am most passionate about: writing and islands. So the idea of using my writing skills to help island businesses market themselves is my idea of heaven. I have been doing social media work for two companies now since December, so I am heading into my third month of my first official exploration of the social media world for clients, and I am absolutely loving it! Being a poet, I love finding creative ways to say a lot with as few words possible. It is a challenge, and one I thoroughly enjoy. Social media is therefore perfect for me as ideally the shorter the post, the better.

Being an American citizen, I am an immigrant here on Prince Edward Island. I am, as they say, "from away." I am perfectly comfortable with that tag -- I lived with it for the six years that I lived here full time, and am happy to re-embrace the "from away" title if it means I can stay. The only part of being from away that I do not appreciate is the inability to work unless I can find an employer willing to jump through the loops required to get me a work visa. It is hard to know that I have the skills and the drive to be able to make a difference in this community, yet be prevented from offering my services to islanders because I do not have a full-time work visa, and thus far have been unable to find anyone willing to hire me full time and help me get a work visa. It is an issue I have been confronting my whole life, having grown up in Cyprus, and one I am truly tired banging up against. I have decided that if I can find a full time position here I will stay put and get residency, putting this legal "from awayness" to an end.

I have been on Prince Edward Island now since the end of December, and every day has been an adventure. Last night for example I attended a gathering at the Culinary Institute here on the subject of newcomers and farmers. The purpose of the event was to connect farmers with ethnic restaurant owners looking for locally grown vegetables, fruits and meat/fish. The presentations were interesting, and the dialogue between audience and speakers/panelists was engaging. It is encouraging to see this important dialogue starting, and to be able to see the implications of it for the future of the food industry on Prince Edward Island. As more immigrants come to the island, and its population becomes more culturally diverse, its tastes also change and diversify, creating a far more interesting culinary landscape to sample for visitors and islanders alike. The more the island has to offer, the more attractive it becomes, and the more linkages that can be made between those from the island and those "from away," the more successful this (and other) initiatives will become.

It is hard to believe that I have only been back for six weeks, and at the same time amazing that six weeks have already gone by. It feels--to me and my friends alike--like I never left, and at the same time I am finding myself having a very hard time imagining what will happen in the months and weeks ahead if I do not find work and a means of staying. When i first arrived on Prince Edward Island, it was a foreign landscape and culture--one isolated from everything and everyone I knew. But being back here and noticing my body relax and reinhabit this landscape, I am realizing that while I will never be considered an islander, this island has become home. I have roots here, and they are deep--not easily pulled up from the bright red soil.

I am back at my dear friend Louise's home this evening. I decided to stay in for a change and write a blog entry and speak with my parents on the phone. There is a plane flying overhead. I can hear its engines roaring as it climbs up into the sky. I wonder if I will be on one of those soon, or if I will still be here next week and the week after -- sipping hot tea, taking in the brilliance of sun reflected on snow crystals, and enjoying being a part of a community that has become like family to me. Life is a mystery. Why one door opens and many others do not will undoubtedly make sense some day, looking back on this period of my life. Now, in the midst of this period of uncertainty, I am just staying present, enjoying the company of my friends and colleagues, enjoying snowfall and the full moon and thousands of stars in the crisp, clear sky, the smell of wood burning in fireplaces, and the raw call of hundreds of crows that migrate in dark clouds from the treetops to the blueish surface of the frozen harbour at dusk. I am, in short, immersing myself in home and in winter for as long as I am able to remain on the island.

Wherever you are on this winter day, I hope you are enjoying the details of the moment: the sensation of the air against your face, the feeling of winter sunshine on your cheeks, the sound of the wind rattling through bare branches, and hopefully the sound of laughter as you share stories with good friends over steaming hot cups of tea!

Walking in my chosen highway

2012-01-30T19:49:00.000-08:00

Friday morning the morning air was full of ice crystals--a million tiny crystals floating haphazardly in all directions like a frenzy of insects, wings sparks of sunlight in motion. The blue shadows of trees arced their long, willowy blue arms across a bed of freshly fallen snow. Outside the wind's percussion played through the branches of bare trees. Snow slowly melted, dripped, re-froze--a tiny drumbeat of ice to water to ice.

Later in the afternoon as shadows began to pull chunks of heavy hues between buildings, I made my way downtown to my favourite German bakery, Leonhard's for a hot drink and some time to write in my journal. Leonhard's is all fairy lights and birch trees. I settled in a corner seat and watched as the soft flakes that had been wet against my cheeks a moment earlier on the pavement began to fall heavier and more steadily. I was thinking about joy. About how to hold it close in my mind and heart most especially when things are not going how I think I would like them to go.

I came across this story recently that described some advice that Abdu'l-Baha, the son of Baha'u'llah, Founder of the Baha'i Faith, gave to Lua Getsinger, an early North American Baha'i during one of her visits to the Middle East. He told her: "Thou must be firm and unshakable in thy purpose, and never, never let any outward circumstances worry thee. I am sending thee to India to accomplish certain definite results. Thou must enter that country with a never-failing spirituality, a radiant faith, an eternal enthusiasm, an inextinguishable fire, a solid conviction, in order that thou mayest achieve those services for which I am sending thee. Let not thy heart be troubled. If thou goest away with this unchanging condition of invariability of inner state, thou shalt see the doors of confirmation open before thy face, thy life will be a crown of heavenly roses, and thou shalt find thyself in the highest station of triumph.

Strive day and night to attain to this exalted state. Look at me! Thou dost not know a thousandth part of the difficulties and seemingly insurmountable passes that rise daily before my eyes. I do not heed them: I am walking in my chosen highway."

I love this quote because it is quite clear from it that Abdu'l-Baha was very definitely walking his chosen highway both during the tough times and the joyful times. He was walking in his CHOSEN highway during the tough times. It is hard to recognize that we are always walking in our chosen highway whether times are happy or sad, stressful or relaxing, easy or hard. It is easier to believe that when we are walking through tough times we are not on our chosen highway -- that somehow God or fate or some other power is dragging us, kicking and screaming down a highway that we most certainly DID NOT choose--a highway that is NOT our will. What I realize in reading the quote above is that Abdu'l-Baha can honestly say that he is always walking in his chosen highway because he has recognized and fully accepted a truth that I will be working on for the rest of my life: that the only way to know with absolute certainty that one is walking one's chosen highway is to bring one's will completely into line with the will of God so that there is no separation, no distinction between what we want in our lives and what God wants. All that is left for us to do then is to find and share the joy that is always within us with those around us irrespective of the circumstances we are living through. I am not saying that is easy--it is hard as hell. But there is something beautiful about being able to align one's will with a larger will, and step back from what is happening around you and see it for what it is: a passing state that need not influence your inner joy or peace.

I have been working on all of this the past couple of weeks. I arrived on Prince Edward Island in Atlantic Canada on December 28th hoping to find a way to stay. It may happen yet. I am praying it does. But in the meantime I have a departure ticket for February 14th and a great deal of uncertainty about what comes after that date. In the past this reality would have caused me a great deal of anxiety. But in the light of this quote above, which I have been reading multiple times throughout the day over the last week, whenever I notice myself starting to get anxious about all of the uncertainty in my life right now I am able to consciously focus on letting it go....focus instead on the only thing I really do have control over: how I respond. It is an interesting process, but what I am finding is that being more conscious to remain joyful even through the uncertainty is helping me to realize how ridiculous worrying about whether I manage to stay or not is, because no matter how hard I work on finding work here, ultimately the outcome of this adventure I am on is completely and utterly out of my hands, and no amount of worry is going to put my fate in my hands. Fortunately (for me and everyone else!) I am not in control of the fates. That is for a power much larger than me to take care of.

I am sitting here by the fire typing this. My hosts have gone to bed. The house is quiet. The streets in this part of town are also quiet at this time of night. The silence of a cold winter night has settled upon the street. Soon I will head up to bed and lie in the stillness listening to the wind outside. Being here is like being enveloped in a very long, very good dream. For however long it lasts -- a few more weeks or longer--I feel incredibly blessed to be here on this beautiful island surrounded by so many people I love. What a gift this winter journey has been. What a blessing it continues to be with every new day!

Have a superb week, friends!

Snowy Friday

2012-01-21T12:07:00.000-08:00

Last night I attended a junior youth gathering at the home of a good friend of mine. The Baha'i junior youth program is open to youth between the age of 12 and 15, and is intended to give this special age group the space and opportunity to develop their power of expression and articulation in a supportive environment. There is an emphasis on social justice and community service, and the participants often take part in activities that are of service to the community.

The group that I joined last night begin every Friday session by cooking supper and then enjoying a meal together. Last night we made a big pot of apple and vegetable soup and sandwiches. The group is composed of two islanders islanders, a young woman from Yemen, three from Taiwan, one from The Philippines, one from South Korea, one from Kuwait and one from Vietnam. All together in the kitchen, some of us chopping, some of us washing vegetables, some of us stirring at the stove, some of us setting the table, we are a rainbow of cultures and backgrounds--a miracle really that we are all working together with joy and laughter and few disagreements or misunderstandings. Sitting around the table enjoying our steaming bowls of soup, the room filled with jokes and laughter. With so much in the news about disunity and prejudice, watching how seamlessly the youth melted into a single group impressed me.

After supper we divided into two groups, the older youth joining me in one room, and the younger group joining Sara, the youth from Kuwait in another room. The group I was facilitating last night made collages inspired by a quote that likened a mirror to the human soul, explaining that if clean and free from dust, a mirror can easily radiate the brilliant light of the sun, but if allowed to collect dirt and dust, its innate ability to reflect light is diminished. We discussed the ways in which we can keep our "mirrors" clean and able to reflect light, and then attacked the pile of magazines in the middle of the room and started creating a visual representation of how we can nurture the qualities and actions in our lives that keep our lives full of light.

It had started snowing in the afternoon, and by the evening it was snowing steadily, the streets of Charlottetown blanketed in a thick, soft layer of ice crystals. Sitting in our little circle with scissors and magazines chatting away as we worked, I felt deeply content and happy to be with this group of young people--to be learning with them and from them. Before the end of the night we shared our collages, each person explaining the significance of every image they had chosen, and how the image would remind us to keep our mirrors polished and reflecting light brilliantly.

At the end of the night we swept the layer of snow off of the car roof and windows and bundled in. It was my first time to drive in snow in a two years, and I took it slow. There is something otherworldly about driving down white streets at night. Everything seems dreamlike and surreal. After I had dropped everyone off and made it home and into bed I lay awake for a long time reflecting on what a great night it had been, and how much joy it is to spend my Friday nights with such a diverse group of people creating together, sharing conversation about social and spiritual transformation, cooking and enjoying food together and enjoying the white light flooding in the big windows from the snowy night outside.

Happy days

2012-01-16T17:23:00.000-08:00

It has been ages since I last wrote. The main reason is that my computer got rather chilled in the transfer between houses that I have been staying at and appeared to have died a sudden and rather final death about two weeks ago. After two weeks of not starting despite daily efforts to bring it back to life last night it started up again as if it had never had a problem. I was so happy that I did a little dance around my room! :-)

I am not sure how long this second life will last, but for now I am back online and will be updating my blog regularly again unless it kicks the bucket again. Here's hoping for a prolonged second life!

The past few weeks have been insanely busy, but also amazingly joyful. I have been completely immersed in winter life on an island in the north Atlantic. This past Thursday I got a ride out to the farm I used to work on to visit with my boss's mother, Joyce. She and I had tea in the living room by the wood-burning stove. We got caught up about the last year of our lives, talked about the farm and changes on it, and discussed the year ahead and what our hopes and dreams for it are. Joyce is an incredible cook and baker, so we also enjoyed a lovely hot lunch made entirely from ingredients grown on the farm, and gluten-free pumpkin pie that was made using pumpkin grown just outside the farmhouse.

That evening my former boss's daughter Bridget had gotten tickets to go to a professional basketball game in another town, so the three of us drove there and entered the surreal world of professional basketball on Prince Edward Island, Canada. Let me be clear: Prince Edward Island is not known for its basketball team. In fact most people do not even know that there IS a professional basketball team located on the island. Hockey is the main sport here, and so it amused me to no end that the basketball court had been constructed in the middle of an ice-rink. What amused me even more was that the score boards, made for ice-hockey games, only allowed for scores of up to 99, so when the first team scored 100 the score displayed on the board was 00. I had to smile at the fact that in the two years in California I did not attend one basketball game, but that somehow in the two weeks on Prince Edward Island I found myself at a professional basketball game.

When we emerged from the flashing lights and cheering crowds of the arena we found the parking lot we had parked in only a couple of hours earlier completely transformed. Heavy snow was falling outside, turning the parking lot into a landscape of glistening white objects. We set out in search of the car, and Bridget and I sat in the car trying to warm up while Raymond cleaned swept the snow off of the windows and roof of the car.

The drive back to Raymond's house was slow. Snow blew directly at the windshield at top speed the entire way. When illuminated by headlights snow flying directly at a windshield creates a kind of optical illusion that makes you feel that you are stuck in place, not moving forward at all. It is very tiring on the eyes. Couple that with snow drifts that were building up on the road and the zero visibility on either side of the road and I found myself feeling incredibly grateful that Raymond was doing the driving and not me. Eventually Raymond's hawk vision got us back to his house, but he let me know that I was going to have to spend the night out there as the road conditions were just not good enough to drive all the way back into town. We bundled into his kitchen and he lit the wood stove and we enjoyed cups of hot tea around the fire before heading off to bed. My bed was in a tiny add-on that is used by volunteers during the summer months. The room has no heating, which is fine during the summer months, but translates to a room that closely resembles a refrigerator at this time of year. I put on all my clothes, including my wool hat and climbed into bed. Outside the wind howled and howled. The walls shook. Snow pelted the thin panes of glass in the frames above my head. I lay in bed listening to the storm outside, loving every minute of it.

In the morning Raymond equipped me with eggs from the farm and bacon from his pigs, and I fried us up a tasty meal accompanied by piping hot tea with milk and honey. Bellies full, we headed to the farm. Raymond headed out on the tractor to feed the cows and I headed out to the warehouse to help Raymond's son Blake bag potatoes for the Saturday farmer's market the next morning. The warehouse is a wooden structure with a clay floor. It is like a large refrigerator only it has no need for chilling given the freezing temperatures outside. I labeled 3, 5 and 10 pound bags with the various variety names --"russet," "satina," and then Blake and I filled them up and loaded them into trays that would be stacked up in the van later. While we worked we talked about our job search, what we enjoyed most about farming and how his house renovations were going. When we finished I headed inside to wait for Raymond.

On Friday evening, back in town, I headed over to my friend Alanna's house for her junior youth group. A great group of youth gather at her house every Friday for discussion on social justice, community service and the power of expression. Once all the youth had arrived we settled down around the table and shared stories while we ate. The group is very diverse, with participants from Yemen, PEI, Taiwan, mainland China, Kuwait and the US. Our meal was filled with lots of laughter. After supper we divided into two groups, the younger group heading into the living room for their session, and the older youth joining me in the den for Ruhi Book 1. Ruhi Book 1 is one in a series of books created for the purpose of training people to acquire the skills to be able to serve their communities in various capacities. The materials all have a spiritual foundation. This past Friday my group was discussing the ways in which the human soul is like a mirror, which if turned toward the sun and polished diligently will reflect the brilliance of the sun's light, but if allowed to collect dust and turned to face us, or to face a source of darkness, will be dull and uninteresting. My friend Alanna decided to light a fire in the wood stove while we shared, and got to work lighting the kindling and then adding bigger logs to the fire. Content that she had the fire going well enough, she left the room, only to return a little while later to find that the big logs had not caught properly, and the fire was dying. One of the women in my group, seeing this, shared with the group how important it is to make sure that we are constantly diligent about keeping the fire of our hearts burning brightly, and that this requires regular and consistent effort in our daily lives and how we choose to live through every day. It was a lovely evening, and when I got home that night I drifted into a deep and contented sleep.

On Saturday my friends and I headed over the bridge to New Brunswick to attend a meeting with the National Spiritual Assembly (NSA) of the Baha'is of Canada (the national administrative body of the Baha'i community of Canada). It is rare that the entire NSA will come meet with a community. Usually they send one or two representatives to a region at a time. So we were all excited to be able to see all nine of members of the NSA together in one place.

We headed out of town and took the rural highway that runs along the southern shore of PEI. Gently sloping agricultural fields dusted with snow stretched out to our right and the coastline got closer and closer on our left, the water a deep red colour from winter churning and the lack of ice--rare for this time of year. In the distance we caught sight of the Confederation Bridge--a graceful chain of consecutive arches that stretch 13km from the southern shore of PEI to the shore of New Brunswick to the west. As the car slid up over the water we all took a deep inhalation at the beauty of the bridge. I was driving over with two women who were born and raised on PEI, but they both commented on how despite seeing the bridge over and over, year after year, they are still always blown away by the sight of it against the sharp colour of the water and the clear blue sky.

Our meeting went well. It was attended by Baha'is from all over Atlantic Canada, and I got to see many dear friends who I had not seen in a couple of years. It was lovely to see them all and catch up. Seeing the entire NSA was deeply moving. There is something about having the entire group--all nine of them--lined up in front of us giving us their fullest attention and wanting to hear what we have been learning as we serve our communities...what the successes have been and what challenges we are facing as we try to improve life in our larger communities. I felt deeply touched, and left with an even greater degree of respect for the NSA than I had had before.

Yesterday a friend of mine came over for lunch and then we sat by the fire and had tea, said some prayers and chatted. It was a good visit, and the perfect way to spend my Sunday. In the afternoon we headed over to the university to attend the World Religion Day commemoration at the chaplaincy centre at UPEI. Our friend Sara was giving a talk about the Baha'i Faith, and we wanted to support her presentation. It was an afternoon of celebrating the unity of the world's religious traditions -- an afternoon characterized by joy, acceptance and encouragement.

Last night after catching up on work (after my computer came back to life!!) I nestled into my comfy bed and sunk into a deep and restful sleep. I woke this morning feeling well-rested and excited about the day ahead. Down in the kitchen sunlight shone brilliant in through the windows across the floor. A bowl of homemade granola sat out on the counter for me alongside a bowl of blueberries. I settled down in the winter sunlight to enjoy the delicious breakfast that my host, Stephen, had prepared for me, feeling immensely grateful. I love this little island, and the simple beauty of moving through my days here: the light, the hot cups of tea, the time by the fireplace, and even getting bundled up in my down coat, scarf, wool hat and mittens to head out into the sub-zero temperatures! Happy gratitude Monday, friends!

Island girl

2011-12-29T21:11:00.000-08:00

As I sit and write this entry, the wind is howling around the house outside. I arrived on Prince Edward Island last night a little after midnight. You know when you were so excited about something as a child that you could not *wait* to get to whatever it was that you were so revved up about? That would have been me when I climbed down the stairs from the plane out onto the island last night, and made like a mad woman for the doors into the arrival area. My dear friends Paul and Alanna were there waiting for me...they had stayed up to come get me from the airport. We bundled into their car and came back to their home for hot tea and a long chat that kept us up into the early hours of the morning.

Last night I lay in bed and watched the sky through the windows--lit up by the brightness of winter. The wind blew and blew, and I lay awake for a long time thinking to myself how good it was to hear the power of the winter wind again.

Eventually I fell asleep, and woke this morning, got ready, and headed out with my dear friend Alanna to get breakfast at a local greasy spoon that was jam-packed with islanders. It was the perfect way to start the day. Alanna is one of those friends who I can talk to for hours and hours, and we somehow never run out of things to share. We share stories, thoughts, ideas, fears, dreams, and most of all lots and lots of laughter. I have been laughing all day long. Our breakfast lasted three hours. When we finally dragged ourselves out of the booth we had taken up residence in, we decided to head out to the house she recently bought in the country to have tea. It was a migrating conversation if you will! We bundled up and headed outside into the icy wind, hobbling across the icy patches of the parking lot and jumping into the car, all giggles and joy. There is something about truly freezing weather that you just have to laugh about. Today it was -18 windchill, which, if you live in California, is bloody cold, but not nearly as cold as it can get here in the middle of winter.

We headed out to her home in the country. The road had ice and snow all along it, so we drove slowly, giddy with the excitement of the day and with our little escape from the reality of the world for a full day. We finally reached the turning for the house, turned in past the little mailbox, and drove up the dirt driveway to the house. The home she and her husband just bought is a rather old house, and has all the charm of a small, storybook house out in the country. It has a barn and a few tiny cottage-like buildings on the property, wood floors, lots of windows that look out across the fields to the west, and a wood-burning stove. Alanna immediately got to work stoking the stove, and got a fire going while I made tea. We brought two chairs in front of the stove and sat down to our steaming mugs of sweet almond tea. The sky through the windows that stretched along the whole western wall stretched out in bands of rose and violet. The earth was dark with shadow and dampness. Reeds outside the window rustled hollowly against the panes of glass. It was so peaceful. Alanna and I talked and laughed, sipped our tea, and warmed our hands by the heat of the fire. It was such a magical evening. As the last light was fading we decided it was time to head back to town to get some groceries and then go back to her house where I had promised to cook Alanna and Paul a hot, belly-filling supper.

I cooked pasta with mushroom red sauce sprinkled with cheese, and salad. It was a simple but hearty meal-- the kind of meal that is perfect on a cold night in December. The company was excellent. The wind howled outside. After supper I made tea, and we sat around the table getting caught up on work that each of us needed to get done. Now I am sitting here alone. Alanna and Paul have headed to bed. The wind is still howling. I find it calming in a familiar sort of way. The sound of an old friend whispering a poem I have heard many times--one that slows my heartbeat and assures me that everything--everything is exactly as it should be in this moment. Such is the song of the PEI wind.

I never thought I would say that I am happy to be home about this island, but that is how I feel. The muscle-relaxing peacefulness even in frigid temperatures, the laughter that has been playing upon my lips all day, and the sense that some sense of rightness has been restored in my world. I am home, and whether it is for an extended stay or a short visit, it feels really, really good, friends!

Wherever you are, I hope you are having a night rich with dreams, wrapped with the sounds of winter, and that joy is bubbling up plentiful in your chest!

Island-bound

2011-12-27T18:17:00.000-08:00

Some of my peeps from PEI that I will be seeing soon!

It is Tuesday evening. Tomorrow morning I will be rising at around 2.30am to get ready to head off to the airport. It is nice to be leaving a house that is still inhabited by people instead of an home emptied of furniture as is often what I see when I glance back into a space I am leaving. It has been a productive day--I think there is actually some chance of my actually getting to bed early enough to get some shut-eye before I have to be up and on the go again.

The next few days promise to be full of awesome people, joy, snow, and lots of hot tea, and I promise to share as much of my travels with you as I can, keeping in mind that also want to focus my attention on the present moment and enjoying the company of so many close friends.

I had planned on blogging every day this month. That was before I booked this trip. I have been thinking about whether to take my computer with me on this trip, and have decided that I am going to take it, but that I may or may not be blogging every day that I am away. You will notice a definite silence tomorrow. This is because I will be in the air, en-route to Prince Edward Island from six in the morning until midnight (or 4am, if you are in California!). I will try to post at least a few times while I am away to keep you updated on all of my winter adventures!

Thank you all for being such supportive readers over the last few weeks and months! I bid you goodnight from California! More from snowy PEI!

Boxing day gratitude

2011-12-26T21:09:00.000-08:00

It is boxing day, and I have spent the entire day out gathering last minute things for my upcoming trip to Prince Edward Island. I have not been feeling very well, so whereas I might ordinarily have been on a pre-departure high two days before leaving for a big trip, today I was trying to navigate the *please let me not be getting sick before this trip* waters, and drinking masses of vitamin-C enriched water.

But I digress. This is gratitude Monday, and so here is what I am feeling grateful for today:

1. My mother, who spent her entire day running errands with me because she knew I was not feeling well, and wanted to be sure I got everything done before taking off without over-stressing myself.

2. The fact that I have had three delicious meals today with people I love in a cozy, heated home.

3. The fact that I own a functional suitcase, and therefore did not have to add that to my already rather long list of errands to run today.

4. The generosity of the family and friends who have enabled me to make this trip in the first place.

5. The recognition that there is an entire community of people on the other side of the continent in whose company I feel completely at home, and that are happy to welcome me into their homes for my time back on the island.

6. The technology that is going to get me safely from this side of the continent all the way to the other side in a single (albeit very long!) day.

7. An in-house washing machine and dryer so that I do not have to be sitting in a cold laundromat tonight washing my clothes.

8. The presence of a warm bed just a couple of feet to my left that I am going to collapse into as soon as I finish this blog post.

That is my list for today, friends! What are you feeling grateful for on this chilly Monday? I wish you all a good night!

A quiet Christmas day

2011-12-25T17:58:00.000-08:00

"Jesus Christ was an Educator of humanity. His teachings were altruistic; His bestowal, universal. He taught mankind by the power of the Holy Spirit and not through human agency, for the human power is limited, whereas the divine power is illimitable and infinite." -Abdu'l-Baha

It is Christmas day, and I seem to be getting sick. Still, my parents wanted to get out of the house and take a walk, so we bundled up and headed over to Davis to take a walk through the Botanical gardens at the University of California at Davis. It was a slightly overcast day when we set out on our walk. The waterway we walked along was dark and speckled with fallen oak leaves. There was no breeze blowing. It was very still. We walked along reading the placards in front of every plant and the descriptions of what the place we were walking through used to be like. Apparently the land that the university sits on used to belong to Native peoples, and the section of the garden we were in seemed to be devoted to their communities. The descriptions of what the area was like about two hundred years ago were evocative. The air full of smoke from women cooking in a camp, the sound of the water moving along next to their camp, and the complete absence of roads or cement. As we walked along I tried to imagine it. It was hard to imagine, as the strip of vegetation along both sides of the water is now surrounded on both sides by buildings and roads as far as the eye can see. It is amazing to me that only two hundred years ago Native people still lived in this place in relative peace, surrounded by the uninterrupted wide open valley landscape. How much the place has changed in such a short period of time.

After our walk we drove up and down the abandoned streets of Davis looking for somewhere to get a hot drink. We were unsuccessful. Not one place open. So we headed back into Sacramento and repeated the process, only to find that in the entire city of Sacramento only one coffee shop (that we could find) was open. It was packed, but we managed to snag a table, and settled in for a hot drink and a chat. This evening, after dinner, we are planning on checking out War Horse.

Wherever you are, friends, and whatever you are doing this Christmas day, I wish you a joy-filled day, and a warm evening with family and friends!

A day that was not supposed to happen

2011-12-24T22:42:00.000-08:00

"Do not be content with showing friendship in words alone. Let your heart burn with loving kindness for all who may cross your path." Abdu'l-Baha, Paris Talks, pp. 15-16

Today did not go at all how I had envisioned, and I am feeling grateful that it didn't. You know how sometimes things do not happen the way you had hoped, but because the things you had hoped would happen did not, a space opened for what you were intended to do? Well that was my Christmas eve. I was supposed to be spending most of my day with a close friend. We were going to go out for Thai food, and then go sit in a coffee shop with our books and read. It was to be epically lazy, filled with laughter and coziness. At a quarter to eleven, when my friend called, I was all ready to go with my coat on and hat and scarf ready by the front door. She was calling to say she was running late by an hour. I took off my coat, made tea, and sat and had a conversation with my mother in the kitchen while I waited. About an hour later my phone rang again. My friend apologized profusely, but she had just found out that her aunt in India had passed away, and was going to have to call her family instead of coming into town. I have to admit I was a little disappointed. Most of my friends are out of town for the holidays, and I had a feeling that the few friends that are in town were already busy--I called around, but I was right -- everyone who was in town was busy doing their own thing today.

The Universal House of Justice, the international administrative body for the Baha'i community writes letters to the Baha'i world on a regular basis. Some of these are longer than others. The letters bring Baha'is all over the world up to date on what is happening, where we are headed as a global community, and what learning has been taking places around the world. On December 12th the House of Justice released a new letter. A copy of the letter has been sitting on my bedside table for a number of days now. I have skimmed it, but have been wanting to sit down and really read and reflect on its contents. With the unexpected time this afternoon I made myself a cup of tea, settled into my nest with pillows and a blanket, and immersed myself in the letter for a couple of hours, taking notes in the margins and underlining points that seemed especially poignant. When I finished the letter I was feeling really excited about the ways in which the Baha'i community is bringing about positive change all over the world, and excited for what lies ahead, and the ways that I can participate in community development at the local level.

Shortly after I finished reading the letter the phone rang. It was my dear friend Rafael from Arizona who was calling me from her parents' farm in Prescott, where she is spending her Christmas break from he PhD program. Rafael and I had a lovely chat, caught up on the latest in each others' lives, and wished each other safe travels -- she is headed to spend the southern summer with her boyfriend in Chile, and I am headed to PEI, Canada for a short visit.

I hung up the phone from my conversation with Rafael, and immediately received a text message from my friend Mariela. She and her husband David have a tradition of collecting winter clothes -- scarves, hats, gloves, sweaters/sweatshirts and coats, making care packages, and distributing the packages to homeless people around the city. She was calling to say that David was not feeling all that well tonight, and would I be interested in joining her. I texted back immediately that *of course* I was interested, and before I knew it she was ringing my doorbell, her car stocked not only with warm clothing, but with hot chocolate and individually wrapped home-baked cookies (I'm telling you--the woman rocks). We loaded into the car and took off, driving along as slow as we could in search of homeless people throughout the city. When we would spot someone we would pull over, roll down a window, and ask if they would be interested in a care package, some hot chocolate and a cookie. We meandered around the city, leaping out of the car and handing out clothing, hot chocolate and cookies to some very grateful folks. One woman, after receiving her hot chocolate and cookie, looked and me and said: "can I have a hug?" I was rather shocked by her question, and a little uncertain, but I said "sure," and leaned in and embraced her. She latched onto me, started crying and repeating "I've missed you so much" over and over, and wouldn't let go. Standing on the sidewalk hugging this woman whose every earthly possession was in a pile behind her both terrified and moved me deeply. I tried to pull away a couple of times, but she kept holding on, so I finally gave in a just stood there holding her. Finally she released her hold on me enough for me to pull back. She looked up at me and said "thank you so much." I stood there on the sidewalk feeling a little shaken, but more than being shaken, I was deeply saddened by the fact that this woman quite obviously is suffering from mental illness, and that she also has obviously lost someone that she loved very much. I also felt saddened by the fact that she quite clearly is rarely spoken to or touched by anyone, and that she both needs to give love to and receive love from other human beings, and this is not happening--at least not as often as it should be.

Mariela and I made a few last stops as the evening turned into night, and the shadows grew much longer, and people became much harder to see. We looked for lumps on the sidewalk-- lumps that could have been heaps of garbage. It shook me to my core to realize that often we had to literally get out of the car and walk up to a dark pile on the pavement before we knew whether it was a person or garbage. What kind of a community do we live in, in which people are allowed to become so degraded that they become indistinguishable from garbage at a distance? It is obvious that we as individuals and as a community are failing to put the quote at the beginning of this blog post into practice when a man or woman is allowed to lie on the pavement in a heap covered in dirt, cold and hungry, when just behind them Christmas trees glow in windows and families eat delicious meals and share warmth, laughter and love.

I did not grow up in a place that had homeless people. There just weren't any, or if there were I never saw them. When I first encountered homeless people in North America I was shocked and terrified. Fear is what I felt most. It is a fear that I have carried with me ever since. I smile and greet most homeless people that I pass on the street, but I hold a deep hope as I do so that they will not speak to me, or harm me. I find the erratic behaviour of many homeless people--caused by drug or alcohol abuse and/or mental health issues--to be scary. I am not sure why. I have a close friend in Arizona who was always deeply kind to homeless people we would pass on the street. She would always stop to speak with them, and show them some affection. I always wished I could be more like her-- less fearful of what I did not know or could not understand, and more open to allowing love and kindness to fill the space ordinarily filled by fear.

When Mariela invited me to join her today my immediate internal response was "no way! I can't do that!" The reason for this reaction was my own fear. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I realized that this was an opportunity to not only help a friend and bring some joy into the lives of people who lead very hard lives, but also a chance to confront and start overcoming my own prejudices and fears, because how can I ever love someone if I fear them? The answer was clear: I can't. Being afraid of someone is a barrier to love--one that we can rationalize, but a barrier nonetheless.

I came home tonight feeling really thankful for the opportunity to overcome my own fears and just get out there and give to others. Yes we did encounter a couple of men this evening whose aggressive behaviour made me feel fear, but out of the more than 24 people we handed care packages, hot chocolate and cookies to, only two made me uncomfortable. All the rest were kind, gentle, and grateful for our care packages. Some of them told us a little about what it was like to live on the street. Some talked about loneliness. Some told us that the care package was the best thing that has happened to them in a while, and that maybe things were starting to look up.

The day did not go as I had planned, but I learned many important lessons tonight about unity and love. I am hoping that next time I pass someone who is homeless I can look them in the eye, smile, and give them my love without looking away or crossing the street out of discomfort or fear. It is hard to confront my own fears and prejudices head-on, recognize them honestly for what they are, and then keep moving forward anyway. But if I want to live in a community characterized by love and kindness, I do not see any other option. My community is a reflection of who I am, who you are, who all our friends and family are. If we want a community characterized by love we must show love --to everyone, not just those we find it easy to love.

How about you, friends? Have you come up against the limitations of your own fears lately? How did you confront and overcome your limitations?

Two days before Christmas, a.k.a. Friday.

2011-12-23T16:45:00.000-08:00

Three of my favourite people on PEI

It is two days before Christmas, also known as Friday. I am curled up with a duvet, mug of chamomile tea, cinnamon raisin toast with almond butter on it, and lots of pillows. I am having a pampered day that began with an exceptionally long shower, a deep-tissue massage by my friend Rick Schneider with Alpha Concepts Massage and Bodywork (heavenly), and lunch with my mother. After lunch I went to pick up a new novel that was waiting for me at the library, Someone Knows My Name (will let you know how it is), and then came home to curl up and write my blog entry.

All around me the world is in a Christmas preparation tizzy. The traffic is insane. It takes over an hour to get to places that I can usually reach in twenty minutes. Shoppers are out in full-force. It always feels a little odd to not have plans at Christmas time. When my grandparents were alive we used to get a Christmas tree because they were Christian, but now my mom gets a new door wreath every December. In comparison with most of the other houses on our street a door wreath just doesn't cut it, but trying to convince my mother that we should put Christmas lights in our windows would take 'til at least mid-February, so I am learning to content myself with the wreath.

My life this past week has been entirely focused on work and saving up for my last-minute upcoming trip to Prince Edward Island. I am really looking forward to my trip, and to getting to spend some quality time with some of my favourite people in the whole world. I have favourite people all over the world, but the highest concentration of them are on a little island in Atlantic Canada, which just goes to show that cold climates really do nurture warm hearts. The idea of being in Prince Edward Island with some of my closest friends for two weeks makes me so happy I can barely type. The fact that visiting PEI is the highlight of my holiday season throws my celebrations slightly out of sync with pretty nearly everyone around me, but to be honest I'm perfectly fine with that. This Christmas weekend will be a mellow one in our house. I am imagining lots of tea, maybe a meal out, a movie, games, dessert....more tea. You get the picture. There will be no present-exchange in our home. Being Baha'is, exchanging gifts at Christmas is not part of our tradition. But we will say some prayers to commemorate the birth of Christ, and join in what is, to me, the most important part of this holiday--quality time with family.

Wherever you are, and whatever you are up to this holiday season, I hope you are having a brilliant time! Happy two days before Christmas, friends!

Leaves will never look the same again

2011-12-22T21:43:00.000-08:00

Those of you who have been reading my blog for the last three days know that I have spent my week raking leaves at the home of a girlfriend of mine who lives on a piece of property that is has enough trees that by the time I left at the end of the day today, the spot I had raked Monday was completely carpeted in leaves again. As I raked and raked....and raked, a lovely refreshing breeze blew, sending a steady shower of golden leaves circling earthward. It did not take me long to realize that having any part of her property completely leaf-free for more than a minute or two was impossible. I had to content myself with the momentary satisfaction that at least for today my hours of hard work had cleared enough of the leaves off of the lawn between the house and the pond that the grass looked green again instead of brown. Hey--you count your blessings where you can. I opted not to go back and inspect the pool area that I spent two days clearing leaves from. It looked beautiful yesterday, and that's how I want to remember it!! I always wondered why our Mexican gardeners move through our property like a tornado and are gone again before I know it. Now I know. If they stuck around their work would be undone before they had a chance to savour a job well done. Point taken. I want to say next time I take a raking job I will be sure to remember the key to successful raking: rake and run--preferably never to return. But that means there will be a next time, and to be honest for the past couple of days whenever I see leaves (and the city is truly inundated with them right now), I shudder. Don't get me wrong. Work is work, and I would much rather be working outside where I am exercising and getting lots of fresh air. But there is a certain degree of futility about raking that I have not yet made peace with. I mean what is the point, if it is going to look exactly the way it did before I started within a day or two?

Anyway. I took a few shots of my Mount Olympus to share with you, and to reassure myself that all the hard work DID actually accomplish something, just in case I go back to the house for a visit in a week or so and find all the surfaces I cleared completely covered in leaves again. It is more a plateau now, as I couldn't reach the top to keep piling it up, so it grew outwards.

So here is Plateau Olympus. She looks smaller than she is, I assure you ;-)

I think the land prays

2011-12-21T22:54:00.000-08:00

Photo by Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Today was day three of leaf-raking at the home of a friend who has a good-sized property in Granite Bay. I left early to beat the traffic, coming out to find the car completely covered in a thick layer of frost and the entire city immersed in a heavy fog that enveloped everything and made me feel like I was driving through the scene from a detective novel. I got on the highway, joining the rush of traffic headed east, the fog still hovering close around me, making everything except what was immediately in front of me invisible. I drove a good portion of the way to Granite Bay in the fog, but then all of a sudden the road must have reached a higher elevation, because I came around a corner and in front of me the sky was clear and the sun was a crisp round warm pineapple yellow ball in the sky. It was so perfect, so low on the horizon and so easy to look at that my initial response was surprise that the moon was still so low on the horizon. The sun looked like a harvest moon, full and warm like a ripe peach growing riper by the minute. It took my breath away.

I arrived at my destination, pulled on my rubber boots and headed out to the fruit orchard for my rake and tarp. Every blade of grass was encased in ice, and as I headed up over the hill the sun broke across the neighbour's fence and slanted across the orchard, catching the frosted landscape at just the right angle to make everything appear to be radiating a soft, brilliant light. It was breathtakingly beautiful--the kind of view that I just *know* is a little gift from above -- the Big Boss upstairs was smiling down on me this morning (wonder what I did to deserve that?! ;-))

The frost slowly faded as I worked, but the beauty of how I began my day has stayed with me all day long. Fortunately I took my camera with me today, and was smart enough to stop and allow the shutter to clatter closed around the image of light hitting frost, so I wanted to share it with you here.

One of my favourite things is to sit with someone I love and hear/see them pray. It is like I am witnessing them at their most tender, vulnerable, honest and most beautiful because their soul is in conversation with its Creator. I think the land also prays sometimes--reflecting the perfection and beauty of its Creator in moments like I witnessed this morning, when it thinks nobody is watching. What do you think? ;-)

Alive

2011-12-20T22:55:00.000-08:00

It is a little after 10pm in my world, but if I were going to guess the time based on how I feel, I would say it has got be be nearing 2am. I spent the day today raking leaves again--shaking out vines impacted with leaves, sweeping layer upon layer of dry leaves off of benches, raking and sweeping piles of leaves into piles and then hauling them off across the yard, through the damp grass, up a slight incline next to the pool cabana at the home I am doing yard work at, past the woodpile, to be deposited atop the ever-growing mountain of leaves that is to become a compost pile. I call it Mount Olympus :-) because as I watch it grow in both height and width, I feel a tremendous feeling of satisfaction. I imagine it is somewhat like what an ant must feel when it moves an entire ant hill from one spot to another, one grain of earth at a time.

I am doing yard work at the home of one of my best friends. One of the benefits of this arrangement is that when I take a break, we get to hang out--have lunch, drink tea, munch on gluten free gingersnaps. It is a pretty sweet deal really. The sky as my office, and one of my best friends as my lunch break companion. I cannot complain.

As I work moving piles of leaves, the landscape around me is changing. I love work that involves physical, visual results daily, and I have to say that although this three-day leaf-raking gig may be sufficient to ward off any desire for golden days of raking piles of rusty, crunchy leaves for a very long time (as in the rest of my life kind of long time), I am really enjoying the physical demands of yard work for these three days. It kind of reminds me of farming in that I have to pace myself, and be consistent. I try to set a pace that I can maintain for at least three hours at a time without keeling over. Once I have been doing daily physical work for a while I can maintain my pace without feeling pain in my body -- I just feel challenged and engaged. But after many months of spending my days writing, my body is feeling the effects of the last two days profoundly tonight. The idea of going back for a third day of yard work makes me want to groan. Not because I do not want to do it-- I very much do, and I know I will enjoy myself once I get started, but getting my sore body up and working hard again for a third day in a row is not going to be easy, I can already tell.

This evening after supper with my friend I headed out to haul the last load of leaves over to Mount Olympus. Darkness was heavy, and the grass whispered against my rubber boots as I pulled the bulging tarp along the ground. In the fading light I became more aware of the sounds of the night -- a family of coyotes out on the prowl were howling and barking nearby. Two lone geese called out as they sailed past above. Crickets throbbed. I stood in the fruit orchard for a few minutes listening to the arrival of the night before turning to go back inside to warm my hands by the heat of the wood-burning furnace and enjoy a hot cup of tea. Walking back to the house, my arms heavy, hair damp with hard work and legs tired, I smiled. I felt deeply happy and content.

My former employer, an organic farmer, told me once that you have to really love farming to be a farmer because it is a hell of a lot of hard work. I have not done any jobs that I have loved as much as working the land. Never felt so challenged and yet so willing to do whatever it took to accomplish my goals for the day. Never has exhaustion felt so good. Sitting inside my friend's house tonight I reflected on how grateful I am for this three-day gig at my friend's house that is demanding that I work the land -- sure, it is not the same as farming, but I have been working with plants, soil and leaves that will be used on my friend's vegetable garden as compost.

It is interesting that we are always placed in the right place at the right time to experience things that remind us what makes us most alive. For me it is the land--an intimate, physical and daily relationship with the soil and plants and the wildlife that live around me. What about you, friends? What makes you most alive?

Work as worship

2011-12-19T23:38:00.000-08:00

“Wherever you are is always the right place. There is never a need to fix anything, to hitch up the bootstraps of the soul and start at some higher place. Start right where you are.” -Julia Cameron

I spent the day today raking leaves for a friend who needed some yard work done. I am dog-tired tonight, but I am happy. I spent the day outside doing physical work under a clear blue sky and warmed by sunshine. I breathed fresh air. I even got to watch two flocks of migrating geese headed south pass overhead, which always makes me feel supremely blessed. By the end of the day my entire body ached--it has been a long time since I last did hard physical work--but I felt healthy and content for having done an honest day's work. The Baha'i writings say that work is worship, and I felt that distinctly today while I was out at my friend's home raking leaves, piling them onto a tarp and dragging them to the other side of the farm to the compost. Sometimes the simplest activities are exactly what we need. Work is a blessing. It helps to focus the attention, to set goals, and to commit to accomplishing something meaningful every day. Today I am feeling grateful for the work my friend has hired me to do. For something that demands that I get up early and head out before the earth has been completely warmed by the sun. For the physical satisfaction of know I accomplished something worthwhile with my day. And for the glorious sensation of being able to work outside, beneath the sun-lit sky.

How about you, friends? What are you feeling grateful for in the place and moment that you are living in right now?

Education under fire

2011-12-18T21:50:00.000-08:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

I took part in a teleconference today with people all over North America. A number of "speakers" presented on various aspects of the Education Under Fire campaign, and the denial of access to higher education that young Baha'is in Iran continue to be confronted with today. Education Under Fire is a campaign to raise global awareness about the plight of young Baha'i students who graduate from high school only to be denied access to higher education solely because of their religious beliefs, and to encourage individuals, organizations, institutions and governments to speak out against the Iranian government's consistent denial of access to education to Baha'is.

The denial to higher education has been going on so long now that the Baha'i community of Iran, recognizing the importance of finding a way to educate its young people, created the Baha'i Institute for Higher Education (BIHE). The BIHE provides Baha'i youth with a means of obtaining higher education, and as such is seen by the government of Iran as being an illegal institution. The Institute has had its classrooms and labs raided more than once, and its faculty and students are regularly arrested, imprisoned and tortured.

This semester, for example, the BIHE began its semester with two of its faculty in prison. The first day of class the students were given an orientation that included an overview of the laws concerning imprisonment, and guidance for how to behave if anyone should be imprisoned or tortured during the semester. Can you imagine living in a country where you are confronted with the very real possibility of being imprisoned and tortured for pursuing your education? I certainly can't, and do not believe anyone should have to risk their freedom and life to pursue their education.

A global campaign is under way to make sure that no student in Iran -- Baha'i or other faith -- is barred access to higher education because of their religious beliefs. A documentary film has been made in which former BIHE students are interviewed about their experiences before they left Iran. The documentary will be launched in January, showing on university campuses across the United States. The film will be followed by a discussion with a group of panelists, the hope being that the documentary will encourage audiences across the continent to speak out against the denial of this very basic and yet so very important human right to the young people of Iran.

The campaign also includes a letter written by two Nobel Laureate winners speaking out against the current policies of the Iranian government towards Baha'i students in Iran that the public is being encouraged to endorse and share with others who they think might be interested. The producers of the film are trying to get 25,000 people to endorse the letter by May 2012. If you would like to read and endorse the letter, you can do so here.

The topic of the teleconference today was synergy: that two or more people working together generate a power that is much greater than the sum of each of their individual abilities. The point being made is, of course, that denial of access to higher education to the Baha'i youth in Iran has implications for access to higher education globally. This is not just an issue confronting the Baha'i community of Iran. This is an issue of access to education for people everywhere around the world. The more people talking about the plight of the Baha'i youth of Iran--the more people standing up and taking a stand--the more powerful the call for an end to denial of education to anyone based on their faith will be. People can only continue to treat a minority unjustly as long as the majority is content to stand by and allow it. Injustice cannot persist when the majority is demanding justice.

Listening to the conversation today made me reflect on my own education. It is not often that I have thought about higher education as a right, but nobody ever tried to take access to a university degree away from me. I also did not often think of access to higher education as a privilege, but hearing about students whose desire to learn is so great that they are willing to risk their lives to obtain their education makes me realize that it is indeed a privilege to have had such easy access to university when I pursued my Bachelor's and Master's degrees. All I had to do was focus on my studies. My life was never threatened.

I am working with some friends to make sure that when the documentary Education Under Fire is released this January, it is shown on the Sac State campus here in Sacramento, and I would like to encourage you to visit the Education Under Fire website and find out about showing the documentary in your community--at an academic institution or a community centre or private home. There is great power in lending our voices to support human right in Iran. There is tremendous strength in synergy.

Christmas lights and good company

2011-12-17T21:53:00.000-08:00


Photo property of Dionne Randolph. May not be reproduced without permission.

Last night after our Friday night devotional myself and ten friends hit the streets to check out the Christmas lights, bundling up in coats, scarves and hats, and picking up hot chocolates to keep our hands warm along the way. We walked around for about two hours, and although I generally feel that the weather here is pretty mild, last night I was glad I had worn my wool hat. The lights here remind me of something out of a movie. Each tree-lined street strung with white lights that arc over the street, and each individual tree wrapped in lights that climb up the trunk like a candy-cane. Most of the houses have lights on the eaves and around the windows and doors, but many also have reindeer, snowmen and Santa on the front lawn. One house had a Santa playing a real piano. It is magical and at the same time I know that if I were to describe the scene to some of the friends that I grew up with back in the Mediterranean, they would laugh and shake their heads, not knowing what to make of the massive outflow of energy and money that goes into decorating houses for Christmas here.

Photo property of Dionne Randolph. May not be reproduced without permission.

Still, it IS beautiful, isn't it? And wandering up and down the sidewalk with my friends last night I passed many, many others out doing the same thing, some singing carols, some talking and laughing as they walked. A few people had even rented limos to drive them up and down the streets very slowly so they could take in the sights from the warm comfort of the car! Having so many people out wandering the residential streets at night was evoked a kind of community spirit that I so rarely get to experience here. I really enjoyed being out there with friends and strangers alike--all having such a great time!

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

How about you, friends? Do people decorate their homes and streets for the holidays where you live? Have you taken the time to go out and enjoy the magic of the season at night with friends and/or family?

Social media and Christmas lights

2011-12-16T17:22:00.000-08:00

Photo by Shayan. May not be reproduced without permission.

It has been a bright, radiant and crisp Friday. I had a meeting downtown this morning and decided to walk, the crackly, crunchy leaves beneath my feet deeply satisfying, the bright, clear blue sky above shining through the now mostly bare limbs of the giant oaks along our street calming and uplifting. The sun warmed my skin and hair, and there was a lightness to my step. I was meeting a client who I am helping with his social media marketing campaign. I have been doing a lot of reading, and a good deal of playing around with Facebook, Twitter and Linkedin over the last couple of weeks, and am really enjoying not only learning how to more effectively use individual social networking sites to the benefit of a business, but also how to link various sites together to maximize the benefit of already existing connections with clients/customers on all the sites that a business is listed on.

I am amused by how much I enjoy the process of helping others work on their social media marketing campaigns. I have not exactly ever been what I would call a *computer person,* but here I am helping my friends expand their businesses using tools that run on electronic devices. I have to laugh at the situation. The more I learn the more interested I become, and the more interested I become the more I realize how many resources there are out there to understand and become adept at working with. Social networking sites may suck up time if I have no purpose or reason for being there, but with a specific aim in mind, it can be quite satisfying and effective in helping a business grow.

It is Friday evening now, and I have one more meeting before my weekend begins. I cannot wait for the weekend. I am really exhausted and ready for a couple more down days. This evening some friends and I are having a devotional gathering. A devotional gathering is where a group of people get together to share prayers and readings from various spiritual/religious traditions and discuss them. It is a great way to end the week, putting everything back into perspective, and reminding me that I am indeed a spiritual being having a physical experience, and not vice-versa. After our devotional gathering we are going to head over to the fabulous forties, a neighbourbood that I have written about once in the last week that is know for its incredible Christmas decorations. My friends and I are planning on getting bundled up and wandering up and down the streets wide-eyed like children (I am hoping with a hot drink in hand!!)....

What about you, friends? What are you doing to wind down your week/rev up your weekend? I hope you have a terrific Friday night!

Taking the time

2011-12-15T13:30:00.000-08:00

"I believe that we learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing, or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. In each, it is the performance of a dedicated, precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which come shape of achievement, the sense of one’s being, the satisfaction of spirit. One becomes in some area an athlete of God. Practice means to perform over and over again, in the face of all obstacles, some act of vision, of faith, of desire."

- Martha Graham

I woke up this morning to the gentle, calming sound of rain falling outside. The sky was a dull grey that looked endless enough to be promising. I was supposed to be volunteering out on the farm today, but we were going to work out in the garden and the soil would have been too wet so Guy gave me the morning off to enjoy the wintry day.

I received a lovely long letter yesterday from a friend in Ecuador. It has been a long time since I received such a long, informative and engaging letter, and so I had promised to respond this morning if my trip to the farm today was canceled due to weather. After breakfast I made myself a lovely hot cup of India Assam golden-tipped tea with milk and honey. I love this tea. It is malty and full-bodied, and the flavour is luxurious--blossoming warmth and sweetness. Tea made, I settled down at my desk to respond to my friend's letter. Such a great way to start the day. Reading her letter, and responding to it reminded me, yet again, how rarely I take the time to write letters anymore, and what an art form letter-writing really is. It is an art form for the writer and it is a great opportunity to pay attention--to listen--for the reader. Such a gift. I find that I also notice myself saying things in letters to friends that I did not even realize I was thinking or feeling, so it helps me to take a step back and notice how I am moving through my days. Reading and writing letters also reminds me of our shared humanity. That we all have unique stories that are important to share with each other because a glimmering of insight from one person is often wisdom that can help someone else. We are all experiencing joys and losses, challenges and sorrows. We are all trying to grow and develop our capacities as human beings. So why not share our experiences of the process?

Sitting at my desk responding to my friend's letter also made me slow down. How often do we say: "I will write back soon" and then just never do it? You probably do not have this problem, but I most certainly do. And yet how much deeper and more richly textured our relationships become when we take the time to share our inner thoughts, dreams, fears, questions and experiences of life. I have sent and received many notes in the last 24 hours, but none of them have improved the quality of my day as much as this one letter. It gives me pause to reflect. I want to do this more. I want to make the time to write deeper, more engaging letters even if it means I forgo commenting on people's status updates on facebook. If you were to ask me which I would prefer-- one handwritten letter or five comments on my facebook page I would obviously choose the former. Obviously....but in reality it is quite evident from the number of brief notes I send and the fewness of letters that I email or snail-mail that I am choosing immediacy over quality every day.

So I am going to start an experiment. I am going to write a letter a day for the next week and see what the result is. I will let you know how it turns out.

My teacup is empty, and it is time to bundle myself up and head across the city to study the story of Baha'u'llah's (founder of the Baha'i faith) life with another good friend. Time consuming? Most definitely. But I can tell you that my two hour weekly study sessions with my friend are like the peak of my week. I look forward to Thursdays, and the time we have set aside to slow down and engage in uplifting discussions on spiritual topics.

Take some time to slow down and connect with a friend or family member. Sit down with them for a chat over a hot cup of tea. Ask them to sit down and say some prayers for someone you know who is in need of them with you. Tell stories. Enjoy the quality of the interaction. Turn off your cell phone and practice just being present.

Have a great Thursday, friends!

Counter-migration

2011-12-14T21:28:00.000-08:00

Photograph is property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. If you block it, it will never exist through any other medium. It will be lost. The world will not have it.

It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.”

-Martha Graham

This morning I did a writing exercise with my dear friend Ahava Shira, who lives on Saltspring Island in British Columbia. Ahava is a creativity mentor, writer, performer and loving inquirer whose work brings together creative expression, entrepreneurial business skills (which she calls Heartrepreneurs) and personal development to help women find success and fulfillment in work that is joy-filled and life-giving, and in their relationships with friends and family. She leads courses, workshops and retreats, and conducts one-on-one sessions. I highly recommend you visit her website and learn more. She also hosts a radio show on which she reads poetry, plays music and talks about the practice of Loving Inquiry called Love in the Afternoon on Mondays at 1pm PST (it is best enjoyed with a hot cup of tea ;-)).

Ahava and I have been writing together once a week for about a year now. We do so via Skype, which is such a blessing, because it means she can be right in front of me as we write, and I can see her facial expressions as she shares what she has written and vice-versa. The last few weeks she was waiting for a new computer to arrive, so we could not write, but today she was all set up again and rearing to go, so at 10am we were both seated in our respective creative spaces ready to write.

I rarely share my more creative/journal writing on my blog, but Ahava was convinced that what I wrote and shared with her this morning needed to be on my blog, so I thought I would give it a try and see what you think since I did say that I was going to be incorporating more of my creative writing into my blog posts. So here you have my creative journal writing piece from this morning. It does not (yet) have a title. I think it may end up being "Counter-migration," but I am not quite sure yet. Reading it again now I am quite certain that is is a sliver of a larger piece in the making. Perhaps I will write the rest of it in the new year, looking back.

Counter-migration

Morning sunlight on my sheer cream curtains makes me wonder into another day and what it holds. I think my life is shifting, but I have thought that too many times to be sure. The land of snow is pulling my heart north. Soon my body will be island-bound, returning to its natural habitat, bound by water and community. Its wildness reflecting and amplifying my own.

They say when you leave land you love it misses you as much as you it. That there is always a gap there waiting for you to return—slip back into, belong. The way you can sometimes slip back into a relationship with a dear friend with complete ease even after years apart.

If I were a landscape, I would be an island – a small one at that. I don’t really know why that is, in case you are wondering. It just is.

A week ago I watched hundreds of birds migrate overhead, their dark bodies fluid v-shaped streams, one after the other, dark waves against the blue vault above. It reminded me of a fall evening after picking up a load of turnips for market at the end of a long day. Limbs tired, contentment warm in my chest. We heard them before we saw them, pulled over at the side of the road on our way back to the farm, leaned up against the van, our necks craned up, eyes squinting against the last radiance of light stretched out long across the coastline and the inky darkness of the Atlantic. Above, wave after wave of geese determinedly pressed forward on their arduous journey south. Sunlight the colour of honey gave the left over stubble of the hay fields a grainy, dreamlike appearance. A cold wind blew steady. The sensation inside my body was one of contented yearning—for what I am not sure. The seasonal migration perhaps? The biological urge to give in to the pull of the land and sky? There was, back then, a daily conversation between my body and the land. The moon pulled my tides with her full pale face. At the most basic, biological level I was in synch with the universe.

But this is not about the past or discontent. This is my life. I am finding my way home. I am getting on a plane headed north in two weeks--my migration counter-intuitive. Am I fighting the inevitable, or giving in to some inner truth? It is hard to know. I pray daily. Morning, evening, and often in-between. Will something come of this trip north? Will I remain, the return portion of my ticket unused? Will the land, I wonder, still have me? Will it have held my spot open for me to reinhabit?

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Do you keep a journal to record your thoughts? If you do, how long have you been journalling, and what do you enjoy most about having a journal? I invite you to and write an entry entitled "Migration." If you feel like it, post a sentence or two from your entry in the comments section below.

Have a beautiful Wednesday night, and an inspiring day tomorrow, friends!

Good book on a cold evening

2011-12-13T21:50:00.000-08:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

It is a chilly day here today. I had to--gasp--wear a sweater inside my coat when I went outside! I have been walking around all day shivering, and I know it is just because the insulation in our house is so lacking. That is the difference between California and Canada in my opinion when it comes to feeling the cold. It is bloody freezing in Canada, but Canadians know how to dress for it. They also know how to insulate and heat their homes. Here I smile when I see people wandering around in tank tops with light jean or leather jackets thrown over the top shivering and complaining that it is just too cold. Californians are reluctant to dress for any season other than summer I find, and it amuses me to no end. The photo above is of me back on Prince Edward Island in Canada. It seemed perfect for this post about the cold!!!

Still.....I am feeling the cold INSIDE the house today despite my many layers and endless cups of hot tea, and cannot wait to snuggle underneath the warm covers with my book. I am reading The Forgotten Garden, by Kate Morton. I have read about ten books in the last couple of weeks, and this one is by far the most intricately woven tale. The imagery is not poetic, but it is descriptive enough that I can clearly imagine the characters and scenes, and the plot is engaging, involving two continents so far and the stories of multiple generations--I found myself disappointed when my eyes started fluttering closed last night before I had reached half way through the novel. That is another thing I like about it -- it is thick --549 pages. Which means I will have reading material for at least a couple of days! ;-)

Have you read any good historical or other works of fiction that you were particularly impressed by recently? I am always on the lookout for something new. If you have, please share your recommendations in the comments section below.

If you are in the northern hemisphere, I hope you are curled up somewhere warm, cozy, and in possession of a well-written, engrossing book (and if you are sweating your way through a long hot humid afternoon in the southern hemisphere, I hope a fan is on, and that you are swaying in a hammock in the shade!) There is something about winter and books, isn't there? Have a great night, friends!

Just can't go without

2011-12-12T21:31:00.000-08:00

"Never give up on something that you can’t go a day without thinking about." - Unknown

What can you not go a day without thinking about? Have you ever asked yourself this question? I haven't. But I thought it was the perfect question to share with you on gratitude Monday! Share three things you cannot go a day without thinking about in the comments section below. Here's my (slightly longer) list to get you started:

1. Prayer. I say prayers when I wake up in the morning to set the tone of my day, and before I sleep to help let go of everything that has been going on during the day. As a Baha'i, I also say one of the Baha'i obligatory prayers every day. I say healing prayers for friends who are unwell, for friends and family that are going through tough times and for protection before traveling. Prayer is my conversation with God, and that relationship is, from my perspective, my foundation for everything else I do with my life.

2. My parents. I think about my parents every day. Sometimes because I am worried about them. Sometimes because they are driving me crazy. Sometimes because they are traveling or sick or preparing for a presentation or performance. Sometimes I just miss them. The regularity with which I think about them highlights how important it is to work on maintaining a healthy, happy relationship with them.

3. My friends/community. There is not a single day that goes by that I do not think about my friends. They are pure sunshine in my life, and I cannot imagine my life without them. Maintaining my relationships with them is superbly important to me, so I spend a lot of time and energy hanging out with them, drinking tea with them, taking walks, having picnics, writing them emails, calling them, sending hand-written letters and packages, and even hopping on a jet and turning up unannounced every now and then just to keep them on their toes!

4. Writing/reading. I have a tendency to inhale books that borders on being obsessive. I often read between three and five books a week, cover to cover, and often stay up half the night because I am so engrossed in a book that I cannot put it down. I read at the breakfast table, during tea breaks, at coffee shops, on public transportation, in the bath, in the garden, while waiting to see the doctor/dentist, and in bed. I love good historical fiction and poetry best. I also love to write, and there is never a morning that I wake up without wondering what I will write that day (even when I do not actually write anything--though that is rare these days). I write in my journal. I write poetry. I write non-fiction, and I am slowly working on a fiction novel right now -- my first. I love how reading and writing enable me to enter a completely different world to the physical one I am currently living in, and how when I am in that world everything else ceases to exist--and I truly enjoy creating this experience for my own readers. I also love how poems and other forms of literature manage to touch the raw heart of truth in ways that are often not expressed when people speak to each other.

5. Home. I think about the places that are most deeply rooted in my heart every single day. Mainly Prince Edward Island and Cyprus. I love the land, the smells, the colour of the ocean/sea, the music, and the idiosyncrasies of the people and culture. I love these two places with a depth that I normally associate only with the people I am closest to. When my plane lands on either of these islands and I step out of the plane and inhale the air I literally feel my entire being relax. I experience more deeply and am somehow willing to be vulnerable in on these islands that I love so. I also think about my desire to build myself a home in a place that I love with my own hands every day. A place that will be my anchor and to which I can return from traveling around the world to find everything where I left it. I have moved so much that I have never really had the luxury of such a place, and I dream of the day when I might be able to establish such a place that I can call my own.

6. Farming. I think about farming every day. I am at my absolute best when I am in rubber boots out in the middle of a field harvesting fresh fruit and vegetables. This ties in with the prayers. I pray about having my own land some day that I can farm.

7. Love. It's true. Along with thoughts of home and building a farm/house come thoughts of partnership--sometime to build and share this life with. Someone with whom to create a family. I wonder who this person will be, where we will meet, and when!

8. Service. I don't know how this ended up at the bottom of my list. It should have been up there with prayer and God and my parents! I think about serving my community a lot. I try to do something every day that is of service to those around me. Some days these things are bigger than other days, but most days I manage something. Being of service every day is something that will always be a goal in my life both because I like to know that I am contributing to the betterment of society, but also because I know that serving others helps me to grow and become a better version of myself. Increasing my capacity, you know?

I think I'll stop there. Give you a chance to share your three (or more, if you want!) things that you cannot go a day without thinking about!

Happy gratitude Monday, friends!

Sunday evening Eckhart

2011-12-11T21:19:00.000-08:00

I read a sliver of a poem by Lorri Neilsen Glenn a couple of days ago that keeps rippling through me. A friend who must have a copy of her collection of poetry Lost Gospels shared it with me...just a few lines, but I keep hearing them again and again pulsing through my head. So I googled Lorri and was surprised to find out that she lives in Halifax--a city I visited often while living in Atlantic Canada, and yet I have never read any of her poetry. I tried entering her information into the library database here in California, hoping I could order a few of her collections through inter-library loan, but there was no listing for any of her work. So far the only poem I have been able to find in its entirety on line is the one I share below, which I absolutely love. I want to use this blog as a place not only to share my own writing and experiences, but also a place to share writing that inspires and moves me in the hope that you will also discover writers that you might otherwise not have, or be called back to re-read a book, passage or poem that you read long ago but is no longer fresh in your mind. For tonight, let me introduce you to Lorri Neilsen Glenn. Let me know what you think in the comments section below.

You think of Meister Eckhart, by Lorri Neilsen Glenn

as the wind rises in the eucalyptus, follows tunnels of light
the queltehue have shaped in the air, tunnels that disappear inside

their own creation. Breath is to story as running is to horses, all wild eyes
and urgency, dust and dream flank, rush of imagination. And you wonder:

how does she find her way with those invisible hands? But when she whispers
at night as you try to steer stars, you wake with only the taste of the answer

in your mouth. And you think of Jesus, of the Buddha, of St. Teresa,
of the poet who drank wine from blue goblets, wrote

green lines on driftwood, slept with women he kept mistaking for the sea.
Can you learn to be as empty as a clay pot, to be that simple.

that lavish?
-and you walk on seashells among angels and devils,

from lanzas and pirates whose treasures won’t last, and you tap
your small crystal heart with the lightstick of the world, and listen:

you know music cannot be as sharply drawn as the eyes of a captive hawk, nor
pinned down to staves with clefs and a rest. It is bird shriek at dawn, chug-

churning engines hot with promise, murmuring cows that trail swollen udders,
generous whispers of the fig tree summer-heavy with fruit you break open

in your palm and lay on your tongue. It is what you have already known
and tasted, mystery that grows in tears and bone, in death and rock and ocean,

the space on the stairs between this step and the next, in the red muscle
of mercy. It longs and it is longing and it wants you as virgin, wants you

as wife, lover, child, over cloud, under water, wants your throb
and blood-thirst, buried tears, and more. It shows you that soft is stronger

than hard, that you – rapt listener, ripening soul – always knew how to dance
this river, this winter, to compose out of the distant cry of stars.

(From Lost Gospels, Brick Books, 2010).

Single quote Saturday

2011-12-10T22:12:00.000-08:00

Some local children helping to lay water pipe to bring clean drinking water to their village in the Dominican Republic.

"Everybody can be great. Because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve.... You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love." ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Few words, much music

2011-12-09T22:20:00.000-08:00

Today was my father's final recital. He has been doing his Master's degree in music composition after many many years of teaching, performing and composing. He has been doing his degree in the evenings while continuing to teach elementary school music all day, and composing in every minute in-between, which means he has been rather over-extended for the last couple of years. But tonight seven of his original compositions were performed in a small concert that was the culmination of two years' worth of work. It was a gorgeous concert, and made me feel like after two years of barely speaking with my father (he is not a big talker), tonight I was flooded with two years worth of everything he might have said had he spoken more, and what he had to say was incredibly beautiful, friends. I will try to post some of the video recording made of the performance once he receives it.

After the concert one of his professors, a handful of the musicians that performed his compositions, and a few friends came back to the house for steaming hot bowls of soup, salad, thick slices of hot bread and gingerbread and vanilla ice-cream with strong, piping hot coffee for dessert. I love having musicians in the house. My grandfather was a professional musician, my father's older brother is a professional musician, and when I was growing up we just always seemed to have musicians in our house rehearsing with my dad. Because musicians have been such a big part of my life, I find their presence comforting. They sit around talking about tempo and half notes, discussing the difference in sound between say Baroque violin and regular violin, or making music jokes that involve puns that I never really get. When my dad talks to myself or my mother he is rather quiet, but when he is in the company of musicians he suddenly has a whole repertoire of music-related jokes that I have never heard before and is sparring music trivia with his companions. There is something about listening to a whole group of musicians excitedly discussing their passion even when I do not actually get a good portion of what is going on that makes me happy. Tonight we had a lot of music lingo flying around our warm little living room, and I enjoyed just sitting back and listening. I think what makes it so enjoyable to listen to is that musicians really love what they do. It is not a profession that people go into for the money, so those who make a life out of it generally really enjoy making music, and this is evident when they get talking.

At the end of the evening, after our guests had finally drifted out one by one, I washed dishes and helped my dad clean up, feeling content and happy that all of his hard work created so much beautiful music. It is such a gift having a musician for a father--always having live music in the house, and getting to hear and understand how a piece is slowly stitched together, each instrument being perfectly integrated to complement all the others until a unified sound emerges that is so completely unlike what any single one of the instruments could possibly have produced alone.

I am feeling grateful for my father's gift of music, and for all the hard work and dedication that generates the music that has always filled my life. It has been a truly gorgeous day. The perfect start to the weekend! Have a lovely, relaxing day tomorrow friends!

Gratitude on a Thursday

2011-12-08T22:16:00.000-08:00

"You must appreciate...and engage your time in mentioning and thanking the True One. You must live in the utmost happiness. If any trouble or vicissitude comes into your lives, if your heart is depressed on account of health, livelihood or vocation, let not these things affect you. They should not cause unhappiness, for Baha'u'llah has brought you divine happiness. He has prepared heavenly food for you; He has destined eternal bounty for you; He has bestowed everlasting glory upon you. Therefore, these glad tidings should cause you to soar in the atmosphere of joy forever and ever. Render continual thanks unto God so that the confirmations of God may encircle you all." ~'Abdu'l-Baha ~

I am feeling grateful for a good number of things today. So much so that even though it is not gratitude Monday, I just have to share!

When I woke up this morning my dear friend and personal trainer extraordinaire Pascale had just posted this awesome blog post about gratitude AND tea. Two of my all time favourite things in one blog post. What could be better? Starting my day reading her blog just got me started on the right foot, and I just *knew* it was going to be a good day.

I spent my morning volunteering on Soil Born Farm, which today meant raking enormous quantities of leaves into piles, raking the piles onto tarps, pulling the tarps across the farm to our leaf mountain, and piling them all up in a central location to be turned into mulch. The sky was blue. The sun was shining. The leaves were crunchy beneath our feet, and there were birds out in the trees and flitting here and there from treetop to treetop. After so long of no physical activity, it felt really, really good to do some good physical work outside in the winter sunshine. After we were done raking we pulled the remaining beets, kohlrabi, turnips and chard out of one of the beds in the youth garden. It felt SO good to get my hands back into the soil. There is something about harvesting food that is pure magic. I feel it in my body and my heart. Guy and I ate lunch outside in the sunshine. It is slightly chilly now, but once the sunshine started warming us up I realized what a blessing it is to still be able to eat a home-cooked vegetarian meal outside on an organic farm in the middle of winter.

This afternoon my father had the first of his music compositions performed at a concert at Sac State. It was a five-part piece for a woodwind quintet, and it was lovely. He has worked so hard this year teaching all day and going to school at night, and then spending every free moment when we was not at school or work composing music that I rarely see him. But tomorrow afternoon he has his final concert, and then he is done! He will have his Master's degree in music composition! I am really proud of him. He has composed some tremendously beautiful pieces of music this year, and I am looking forward to hearing them be performed tomorrow.

Have you looked up recently? Why don't you take a moment now and go outside and check out the moon. She is b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l right now friends. Crisp, wide-faced, heading towards being full, but not quite. She is begging to be admired, so get thyself outside and admire!

I am also feeling grateful for the quote at the top of this email, and for the message it contains. I have been reading it every morning lately. Today I began my day by reading it, and thought I could do with reading it again before I head to bed tonight because I received another "thank you for applying for this position" letter today, and have been trying to re-orient my perspective and see it as another door closing so that I get one step closer to the one that is going to open if I keep looking and applying and staying positive. Yes. I am definitely grateful for the reminder that I should not allow external circumstances over which I have no control get me down.

On the way home from dinner out with my parents tonight we drove through a neighbourhood called the fabulous 40s. It is one of the wealthiest areas of the city, and it is famous for its gorgeous Christmas light decorations, so during the month of December people drive up and down through the streets to enjoy the magical light displays. Most of the trees on the streets are wrapped in lights. Strands of coloured and white lights arc over the road, creating a tunnel of fairy lights to drive through. Christmas trees glow inside people's living rooms, and every window and eave is draped with lights. My favourites are the strands of white icicle lights hanging from the eaves of some homes. They give off a soft, pretty glow, but are not too over the top. Driving up and down the streets of the fabulous 40s at this time of year is like entering another world. One that makes me feel ever so slightly like I have driven into a Disney movie, and any moment a prince is going to suddenly appear, take my hand, and lead me off down the street of lights as fireworks go off in the clear sky above. It is surreal, but it is also fun, and tonight I found myself feeling grateful for the light displays that make this season so lighthearted and dreamlike.

How about you, friends? What are you feeling grateful for on this clear, crisp winter's night?

Self-fix

2011-12-07T23:18:00.000-08:00

‎"Be not the slave of your moods, but their master. But if you are so angry, so depressed and so sore that your spirit cannot find deliverance and peace even in prayer, then quickly go and give some pleasure to someone lowly or sorrowful, or to a guilty or innocent sufferer! Sacrifice yourself, your talent, your time, your rest to another, to one who has to bear a heavier load than you -- and your unhappy mood will dissolve into a blessed, contented submission to God." (Attributed to Abdu'l-Baha)

The above quote was shared with me by a friend who who in turn was given it by another friend. I am trying to find out where it actually comes from, and have thus far been unsuccessful, but I promise to update this posting once I do so that you will know.

Irrespective of the source, I love the sentiment it is expressing, and my coming across this quote, in combination with a number of things that have happened in the last 24 hours, has made me reflect on something that I just had to share with you!

I know I said I would not be talking much about the past anymore, but indulge me here for a minute if you will! While I was studying on Prince Edward Island in Canada I would occasionally reach the end of my tether. Too much stress. Not enough sleep. Or "I have no idea where my life is headed and WHY did I move to this godforsaken place where the temperature drops to 35 degrees below zero in the winter again????" Yeah. You get the picture. Anyway...when I would reach this place, my dear friend Alanna would say you me: "You know what you need? You need to go visit Linda. She will fix you." The first time she said this I wasn't so sure. I mean Linda lived in Shediac, New Brunswick -- I tiny little town on the eastern coast of Canada that was so small that it made PEI look urban, and it wasn't like it was any warmer over there than it was on the island. But Alanna is one of the most convincing people I know. She could convince anyone to do just about anything. So I packed my bag and before I knew it Alanna was driving me (this was before I owned my own car) to the Confederation Bridge where I caught I shuttle bus to the New Brunswick side of the frozen landscape, where Linda loaded me into her little car and drove me back to her warm home for the weekend. During the weekend Linda and I cooked healthy meals that we enjoyed with her husband Jacques, made and drank lots of tea, shared many morning and evening prayers, and sat and talked for hours on end. She was wild and crazy, loved to laugh, had incredible stories from living in the South Pacific and Africa, and yet at the same time was deeply wise. She also was (and still is) an excellent listener.

At the end of the weekend Linda bundled me, happy as a clam, back into her car in my long underwear, down coat, wool hat, gloves, scarf, two pairs of socks and boots, and drove me back to the bridge, where I took the shuttle back across to the island where Alanna met me, saying (triumphantly) "see? I told you Linda would fix you." And she was right. Linda had fixed me. I never knew quite what Linda did, but over the next six years Alanna shipped me off to be fixed at Linda's home many, many times, and after I graduated and bought myself a car, I would drive myself to Linda and Jacques' place for the weekend. I'd like to think that I also went to visit because over time Linda and Jacques had become very dear to me, but I think that even when I was there on a social call, Linda was working her magic -- re-fueling my soul well, making sure I was laughing at life and myself, taking the time to pray, and staying true to my heart.

Last night I was feeling very blue indeed. It was just one of those nights, and I found myself lying in bed wide awake long after I would have liked to be asleep wishing that there were somewhere I could go....a place I could get away to for a few days to clear my head, gain a different perspective, laugh a little, and take a break from the never-ending job search. Lying there in the darkness I realized that what I really wanted was to visit Linda. "To be fixed," as Alanna would say. I do not know anyone here that I have that kind of relationship with. When I am feeling unsteady I am just feeling unsteady, and I just have to deal with it myself. I am on my own.

Knowing that I could not take off for the weekend to see Linda because she is on the opposite side of the continent, I decided that perhaps I could write to her. So I pulled my computer onto my bed and wrote her a nice long letter. I still haven't heard back from her, but in the meantime I came across the above-mentioned quote, and I realized that there is a reason that Linda is so far away right now and it isn't just because I got in a car and drove to the opposite side of the continent. I recently read Man's Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankl, in which he speaks about the fact that no matter what our circumstances, we always have a choice how we respond to any given situation we find ourselves in. In circumstances that are unpleasant or challenging, we can choose to remain fully present and use the circumstances as an opportunity to learn something new and grow beyond our former limitations, or we can ignore the chance we are being given to ask ourselves the question "what can I learn from this?" and instead vegetate passively. It is wonderful to have a supportive community of friends that I know I can turn to when and if I need advice or support or someone to go for a walk with or sit down for a long chat and a good laugh--a community where every time I am struggling with something someone is always there to help me get through. But it is also important to know both that I can fix myself, and how to go about doing so.

This morning I did Ruhi book 2 with a good friend of mine. We studied the life of Baha'u'llah, the founder of the Baha'i faith. We also said some prayers together, and prayed for a friend who has cancer. Focusing on our learning process and on sending out healing energy to my friend was the best "fix" I could ask for. After Ruhi I met another friend who needs some help with the social media marketing campaign for his business, and I spent my afternoon working on ways to help him achieve his goal. This evening I helped my mother prepare the house and then host a group of women who come here twice a month for a women's devotional gathering. Tonight the woman who was leading had chosen as the topic "tests and difficulties." The readings that she had chosen were perfect, and the discussion that followed was lively and full of laughter, tears and wonderful rich stories. By the time the women left I felt completely "fixed" and I realized that I had turned my state of mind completely around simply by being present and focusing on serving those around me.

It is a gift indeed to have people in my life who support me when I need a little support, but I am thinking that all of my relationships with the incredible people that I am blessed to have in my life might just be even more fulfilling once I master "fixing" myself, so that my time with my friends can be spent more fully savouring the joy of each other's company.

I came across a blog entry today that spoke to this very topic. The title is rather crude, but the content is spot on. It was called "When shit happens, turn it into fertilizer." You can read it (and I highly recommend you do) here.

It is interesting to me that when I am paying attention and being conscious (and willing) to ask the question "what can I learn from this situation?" there is always something that I could be learning that would improve my life and the lives of everyone around me. What about you friends? When you are in a situation that is challenging or painful what do you do to turn yourself around? Do you have a particular question that you ask yourself? A quote that reminds you where you are headed? A meditation or yoga practice that re-centres you? If you do, I would love to hear your approach to "fixing" yourself in the comments section below.

Have a great Thursday, friends!

Invested: A small contribution that will make an enormous difference in our children's lives

2011-12-06T19:23:00.000-08:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

I thought I would share this image today because it makes me happy. It makes me happy because I planted those gorgeous heads of lettuce in my hands with a group of kids from a local school, and they turned out beautifully (and for the record, they were crisp and flavourful as well!)...they looked like flowers in full bloom, and when I saw how well they had turned out it made me supremely proud of the kids. I only wish they were coming back to the farm to see the fruit of their labour. There are few things as empowering and inspiring as harvesting food that you planted and being able to take it home to share with your family.

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Soil Born Farms provides the opportunity for local children and youth to visit a working farm, to interact with the chickens and pigs and cows and sheep, and to learn about growing healthy food. In the past the opportunity to visit the farm was free, but with all of the budget cuts and loss of funding, Soil Born has had to start charging for the privilege of visiting the farm. What this means is that many low income school children do not get to visit the farm at all anymore, and those that used to come multiple times throughout the year can only afford to come once or twice, if they are lucky. The only children that still have the opportunity to visit throughout the year are those attending more affluent schools.

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Recently someone made a donation of one thousand dollars to Soil Born Farms to enable a low income school class to come spend time on the farm. I was there when the kids came for the first time. I have been volunteering on the farm for almost ten months now, and have seen a lot of kids, but this class was the toughest group I have experienced. There was a lot of pushing and shoving, bad language, inability to pay attention, inability to listen and follow instructions. The class was only on the farm for a few hours, but when they left I was totally exhausted. Myself and the head of the education program spent so much of our time trying asking the kids to listen, stop arguing or pushing each other, to stick together and to use their quiet voices (so as not to scare off the local wildlife) that it was hard to see how the kids could possibly be benefiting from the experience at all. Getting their attention and keeping it was so hard that it was really tough to tell how much they actually learned.

The experience of having this class on the farm, although unpleasant in many ways, made me realize one thing: these kids, more than any of the other kids that visit the farm, really need to be there. They need time outdoors. They need the opportunity to interact with the natural world. To be silent. To listen to the sounds of nature. To watch birds circling in the sky. They need to get their hands in the soil and learn how to plant a seed and help it grow. They need to be given the chance to develop a relationship with the land because it nurtures hope, patience, persistence, determination, responsibility and respect in them. They need to develop relationships with adults who listen to them and respect them and challenge them to slow down and pay attention to the world around them. They need all of this because many of them are just not getting very much if any of this from any other source.

It may not seem like this group of kids really benefited from their morning on the farm, but I know that they did. I know it because of the little things that could easily go unnoticed. Like the girl who told me that she had been to the farm before--in second grade (3 years ago). For her to remember a single visit that she made to the farm as a second-grader three years ago tells me that even a single morning interacting with the land has an impact on a child, even if she/he does not seem to be paying attention.

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

It is December--a time for giving--and I know that many people are getting ready to buy gifts to give their loved ones for Christmas. There are many places to invest this season, but I wanted to invite those of you who are looking for a way to give something this season that will have a larger impact on the children in our community to consider making a donation to Soil Born Farms here. If you would like to learn more about Soil Born Farms, and the many positive ways that they are contributing to the larger Sacramento community, you can visit their main web page here. If you have friends or family who might be interested in contributing to Soil Born Farms, please feel free to share this entry with them.

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

These children are the future, and every little thing we do to invest in their health and spiritual, moral and intellectual education during their formative years is an investment in the long-term health and well-being of our global community.

I wish you a terrific Wednesday, Friends!

Outside in

2011-12-05T19:45:00.000-08:00

Drawing property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

"When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves." -Victor Frankl

Today has been a day of few words. I began my day by going through all my paints, spreading them out all over the kitchen table, and painting for a few hours, and I spent the afternoon drawing. I am feeling deeply grateful for my many creative outlets. Usually when I hit a wall I write, but when writing isn't getting me where I want to be, I notice that I turn to visual art. I am a very visual person--one reason that I love farming so much is that you can actually SEE what you have accomplished at the end of the day. I find that creating something visual that was not there before, or transforming something that was there into something else is deeply satisfying. I also find that when I have been trying to change a situation and nothing I am doing seems to be working that creating or transforming the space outside of myself somehow feels like it might eventually lead to an internal breakthrough as well.

If you have a moment in your day where you feel like you are stuck, or just need a shift in perspective, grab a piece of paper and draw something....it can be anything. Try not to start with a clear idea of what you are going to draw. The doodle above started off as a little tiny pattern, but then it just kept growing and growing. When I take a step forward in life I have no idea how things are going to turn out, and when I put my pen down on paper or my paintbrush to canvas, I don't really know where I am headed or what I am going to end up with. I just follow my intuition and let the process lead me to a natural conclusion. The creative process has so much to teach us that can be transferred to our lives in general if we trust the process off the page or canvas as much as we do on it. Does your creative process help you to influence internal shifts as well? How?

Happy gratitude Monday, friends!

Caminos flamenco

2011-12-04T21:44:00.000-08:00

"We should always recognize that the beauty of Spain is not serene, is not soft, not restful--it is ardent, burning, excessive, sometimes unpredictable; a beauty which, blinded by its own splendor 'knocks its head against the wall'. -Federico Garcia Lorca

Last night my parents and I went to a spectacular flamenco performance in San Francisco put on by Caminos Flamenco with some additional visiting musicians and dancers from Spain. The show was at the Marine Memorial Theatre, which is a relatively small theatre located in a building that is also a hotel in San Francisco's theatre district. We wanted to arrive with plenty of time for tea and dinner before the show, so we drove down into the city mid-afternoon, arriving as the sun was just starting to sink behind the buildings.

We had decided to stop at my favourite tea house, Samovar, for a hot cup of tea and dessert before we headed over to the area where the theatre was located. We parked and made our way out into the city, passing the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art with its many visitors streaming in and out of the doors, across the street and past the sculpture fountains, and along to Yerba Buena park, the last visitors still lingering on the grass, children running in and out of the Martin Luther King cave-like memorial that lies at the base of a multi-tiered fountain that gurgles and runs down step by step until it reaches the pool at the bottom. We slowly climbed the ramp that zigzags back and forth up to the square that lies above the fountain, the sound of water falling over stone all around us, pigeons taking an evening dip in the wide open pool at the top of the multi-layered fountain, a few tourists sitting on the benches that look out over the fountain and the park. The lights of the city were all coming on, the sky deepening from a light, watery to an inky deep blue. The church across from the park had its front door open. The office buildings climbing and falling in leggo like shapes became beautiful as the grey of their exterior walls was replaced by the tiny white lights streaming out through windows.

Samovar was filled with Saturday night cheer. Lots of folks just starting their night out in the city, or wrapping up a day of shopping before they got ready for a night out. It's glass walls radiated warm light, and Parisian tunes filled the room. We slid into a table and relaxed back into the cushions, taking in all the characters around us, the French music which transported us to Paris in another era, and inhaling the aromas of steaming tea coming from the tables around us. My mother and I ordered hot chai, my favourite drink at Samovar. It is creamy and spicy, and just sweet enough without being too sweet. I ordered my favourite dessert--Greek yoghurt springled with fresh mint, moist pieces of date, toasted walnuts and fine slices of apple drizzled with coconut syrup. It was divine. Samovar has a warm, welcoming atmosphere--from the comfy seating arrangement to the warm-hued light, it is a space for connecting, and would be an ideal place for a first date because time just sort of vanishes when you enter the front door and conversation comes easily, like warm honey.

We were reluctant to leave, but we wanted to pick up our tickets before supper and locate somewhere near the theatre for some food. The theatre was on the second floor of an old hotel that was plush and opulent. The kind of place with richly coloured carpet and a narrow winding staircase. I am not sure whether the carpet was deep red, but it *felt* deep red. We collected our tickets and then headed up the hill to a little sushi restaurant that was tucked into a tiny little space, but had an amazingly open feel to it, and somehow managed to pack a good crowd into the tiny space and still maintain a calm, warm, and relatively quiet atmosphere. We were taken to a table in front of the window--the last table in the restaurant. It turned out we had arrived just in time. The entire rest of the night a line of people waited in every available space inside the restaurant, and snaked along the pavement outside.

We enjoyed our meal and hot green tea, and left with full bellies and glowing cheeks. Back at the theatre we climbed the stairs and gave our tickets to the ushers. The theatre was smaller than I had expected--cosy and intimate. The flamenco group had a great lineup of musicians, and a terrific group of dancers. The male lead dancer, Juan Ogalla, from Cadiz, was an incredible performer. Every tap, every rise of the arms, every shake of the head was absolutely perfect. The female dancers were colourful and expressive, powerful and sensual, passionate and full of energy, joy and sorrow. My favourites were Clara Rodriguez, Fanny Ara and Mizuho Sato--from the US, France's Basque country, and Japan. The guitarist Jason McGuire blew me away. The man is a flamenco-playing machine! The night was full of rhythm and twists and turns and spins and shouts from the stage and audience, hands beating and clapping and tapping and snapping, feet clipping and clapping and tapping and stomping, strong legs leaping and stepping and opening and closing, waists twisting and hips thrusting and swaying, and arms rising up suddenly, wrists undulating and inviting, hands and fingers budding and opening into flower again and again. Even the voices of the singers-deep and throaty and rough and mournful were spot on. Sitting in the theatre, I was spellbound. Nothing existed in the world but that all-engrossing music that drew me in and danced with me for two hours, and then suddenly released me back into an awareness that I was sitting in a chair in a theatre in San Francisco, in awe, at the end of the night. It was truly an astonishingly beautiful performance by dancers, musicians and singers who have honed their craft and have such precise command over every muscle and gesture of their own bodies that there is not one detail that is overlooked.

We drove back to Sacramento with the colourful costumes and the rhythmic beat of the music still pumping through our bodies. It was one of those evenings that I will tell my grandchildren about some day, and they will close their eyes and see the dancers spinning on the stage, their bodies telling stories of love and rage, loss and triumph and birth and death, and the music circling and rising and falling--the beat of feet against the floor, hands clapping and hearts thumping hard against rib cages.

Potential of love

2011-12-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

"Love is the only way to grasp another human being in the innermost core of his personality. No one can become fully aware of the very essence of another human being unless he loves him. By his love he is enabled to see the essential traits and features in the beloved person; and even more, he sees that which is potential in him, which is not yet actualized but yet ought to be actualized. Furthermore, by his love, the loving person enables the beloved person to actualize these potentialities. By making him more aware of what he can be and of what he should become, he makes these potentialities come true." -Victor Frankl

I read Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning this past week and came across a number of quotes that really struck me deeply, this being one of them. I will share a few more with you in the coming days. I have been working on trying to implement this more in my life with people who I do not get. People whose world perspective I find challenging. People whose political stance I might normally find offensive, and people who come across as rude or unkind. It is shedding new light on my world and how I relate to those around me, and I kinda love the result.

Wherever you are and whatever you are up to this weekend, I send you love from the windy, crunchy leaf-strewn land of northern California! Have a great Saturday, friends!

Blue sky & bare branches

2011-12-02T17:20:00.000-08:00

Photo is property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

I woke up this morning to the sun shining in through my curtains. After getting breakfast and taking care of a few things I pushed the screen door open and wandered out onto the back porch, taking a seat on the cool cement stairs. The sun was just wrapping itself over the house, falling in a warm strip across my legs and bare feet. Looking up, I noticed that the Japanese maple that had been so covered in deep plum red leaves yesterday were mostly gone, shaken free by the wind that blew and blew through the city yesterday leaving a thick deep red carpet upon the damp grass. A few lone leaves still clung to the bare braches, the sun shining through them, lighting them up--a ruby constellation quivering among the topmost branches. Sitting there with my feel being warmed by the sun, I looked up at the bright blue sky -- so blue it made me squint my eyes, and listened the the chirp and chatter of birds and squirrels, the lazy buzzing of a fly fortunate to live in a climate where flies are still alive at this time of year, and the sandpapery caws of a group of crows above. I sat and wrote in my journal and felt the seasonal shift in my body and some internal movement that I cannot quite lay my finger on but felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff about to take flight (up, not down!!) There is something healing and comforting and somehow magical about winter sunlight, you know?

It is evening now. The afternoon was golden--the crystal prism that I have hanging in the window above my desk sent fragments of rainbows dancing across my desk, over my bed and up the wall. It was a long, quite afternoon. I finished reading Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning, and did some writing, and now the light has that watery lavender-bluish wash to it that comes right before darkness evening releases its hold on the light and the stars slowly become visible against the blackness of the night.

Tomorrow afternoon my mother and I are planning a trip to San Francisco for tea at Samovar followed by an evening performance of flamenco in a local theatre. I am still a bit under the weather from being sick the last week, so am hoping I am feeling better when I wake up tomorrow morning as I have really been looking forward to this trip.

And you friends? What do you have planned for this first weekend in December?

Counting down

2011-12-01T16:19:00.000-08:00

It is the first day of the last month of the year, a.k.a. December 1. Outside all I can hear is wind blowing through the trees. It is a clear blue sunny day. The wind is shaking the Autumn leaves from the trees, sending them scuttling along the pavement. Tree limbs are breaking and falling all over the city and every now and then I hear sirens heading off to help someone remove the heavy limbs from a shattered roof or a crushed car. I am learning to love all the trees in this city. The Japanese maple out back that is still clinging to the delicate, deep red crumpled palms that adorn its branches. The huge oaks out front that, if I close my eyes, sound like the froth subsiding along the shore after a wave has broken. It is a new language, the language of trees, and I am accustoming my body to living beneath the vast canopy as much as I am accustoming my ears to the never ending sound of wind that is one of the few weather features that distinguishes winter in this part of the world from the rest of the year.

The other feature that distinguishes northern California is the fog that seeps in soft like a barefoot thief in the night, enveloping the trees and lamp posts so that when I look out the living room window with my cup of hot tea, there seems to be something mysterious about the street we live on. I feel as though I am looking out onto a scene from a mystery novel, and as though any minute a carriage is going to come clapping down the street and a shady character with a top hat and an upturned collar is going to emerge from it. I kind of love it the way the fog blurring everything gives our otherwise picturesque neighbourhood an air of mystery.

I have been thinking a good deal about the fact that this is December, and about the fact that exactly one year ago I was beginning Reverb10, a month-long commitment to write a blog entry using specific prompts that were emailed to me every day for the month of December. Gwen, the woman who hosted Reverb10 just sent an email out yesterday informing the thousands of people that took part last year that she is not going to host it this year, and that we should do our own thing. Last year she was in Colorado. This year she is in Mexico, and I guess the beach just doesn't scream "write your prompts!!" like the snow of Colorado did. I can totally understand that, but I have to admit that I had kind of been expecting to receive a prompt today to start me off on the journey through December to the new year, so when I woke up this morning I found myself wondering how I could come up with my own way of bringing 2011 to a close and preparing for a new year.

I have been feeling ready for a new direction for this blog. Last December was all about reflecting back on the previous year. I think reflecting back has its purpose, but over the last few weeks I have made a number of changes in my life, and I am really feeling ready to be here, right now--not reflecting back over the last year and not reaching forward into the future. As I type this I am realizing that this was one of the reasons that I created this blog: to create a space in which I could write about presence. It has been interesting that since I began, I have written a good deal more about the past than the present. So the fact that I am finally ready to be writing about the present a year and a half after I started this blog is rather amusing to me.

So as we move into December you may notice a shift in my writing. I am going to start including a good deal more creative writing into my blog. I may throw in some poetry or quotes that I come across here and there. I am going to be using this space as a place to explore where I want to take my blog this month. I am hoping that my process generates some questions or ideas that stimulate your own creative energies as well. As we move through the month, I would love to receive your feeback on which entries you love and would like to see more of. If anything I write or share stimulates your own creative process I would also really love it if you would share images, thoughts, ideas or links to your own blog entry in the comments section below. If you are having trouble making comments, select "anonymous" in the comments pull down menu and then just sign your name after your comment. I do not want to miss out on hearing from you because you are having trouble leaving a comment.

I am really excited to be heading into December with you, friends! I am looking forward to the month ahead and to the possibility for more creative sharing and dialogue. I wish you all a wonderful month, and look forward to seeing you right here tomorrow!

Always an immigrant

2011-11-25T14:35:00.000-08:00

"Immigration is such a shocking experience in the history of a family that even the grandchildren are still grandchildren of immigrants." -Amos Oz, Israeli writer

My father and his three brothers with my grandparents and great-grandfather.

I was listening to a PRI interview with Amos Oz this morning, and found his comments about immigrants interesting. This past week my mother glanced at my CV, which has a short bio-like paragraph at the top of it. In it I say that I come from a family of Italian immigrants. I have considered myself the great-granddaughter of immigrants since I was a child. It has played an enormous role in my life and in my identity--to the point where I actually moved to Italy when I was 19 to study Italian and then traveled down to Sicily to research family records and re-establish connections with relatives who had remained in Italy. So it came as quite a surprise when my mother took exception with my saying that I come from a family of Italian immigrants. In her eyes, this statement is simply not true. It is a misrepresentation of who I am.

Amos Oz's thoughts about immigrant families resonated deeply with me. It is true that I was not born in Italy, and that neither my grandparents nor my parents spoke any Italian while I was growing up. But there was always this weight of collective amnesia hanging in the air whenever we spent time with family. My great grandparents did not really insist that my grandparents learn Italian, and they in turn did not insist that my father learn Italian, and I have spent a good portion of my life trying to uncover where we came from....who we were and what our family stories were. I think because my great-grandparents never really learned enough English to communicate clearly with my father and his brothers, so much was lost between generations due to lack of language skills. While in Sicily I wandered along the main beach, wondering if my great-grandfather had stood in the same spot I was standing, and what he must have been thinking as a young man only a few years older than I was at the time when he boarded a ship away from the poverty of Sicily toward the hope and promise of a new life in New York. I spent many hours researching in an old records office. The staff let me come back behind the desks and into the long narrow hallways lined with shelves. I climbed ladder after ladder, pulling enormous, hand-written ledgers from the shelves and meticulously leaving through page after page of beautifully written Italian records of birth, marriage and death records. Eventually I found enough information to connect with family in Italy, and ended up connecting with some distant relatives that, at the time, still owned a family bar/gelateria on the town's main street.

Reconstructing the past and forming a personal relationship with it has been very important to me, so yes, I very much still feel like being the descendant of immigrants is an integral and essential part of who I am. When I was almost six, my family moved to the island of Cyprus in the Mediterranean. We did officially move there to serve the local Baha'i community, however from my perspective as a six year old, the process was indistinguishable from that of an immigrant. We sold all of our belongings and moved half way across the world with three large suitcases. We had to learn a new language. We were a different faith from most of those around us. My parents struggled financially to make ends meet. And I grew up wanting more than anything in the world to fit in with those around me.

My family remained in Cyprus from almost 16 years, and I completed my elementary and high school education there. When I arrived back in North America for college I felt as if I was entering a foreign land. Apart from visiting family every few years, my family had not maintained strong ties with the US. I lost contact with any childhood friends I had known, and when I returned I had a British accent and no idea how anything worked in the US. I distinctly recall going to try to buy something and having someone tell me that I still needed to pay a nickle, not knowing what that meant, and being embarrassed to ask, because the person behind the cash register seemed to think I should know; spending hours looking for books on the first floor of the library before finally asking a librarian for help, and not understanding why she stared at me when I told her that my book was on the first floor, but that I couldn't find it (not knowing, of course, that in the US the first floor was the ground floor of a building, and I was on the second floor); and getting papers back from professors with words circled throughout the text, and a note at the top of the first page in red ink that read "This is America, not England," in response to my use of British spelling. These were just a very few of the cultural differences and misunderstandings that I overcame that first year back in the US.

By the time I decided to do my Master's degree on Prince Edward Island, in Canada, I had become familiar enough with North American life that a good deal of what I experienced was relatively easy to adjust to, but there were still new ways that people related to each other, new uses of English, and cultural practices that I had to adjust and adapt to.

Back in California this year I have realised just how much I had adapted to my Canadian home I had become. How the softening of my demeanour that was a way of making sure that I did not offend anyone living on the small island of PEI in Canada meant that I was bulldozed by those around me in California who have no qualms about speaking their mind, and expect those around them to deal with whatever they have to say. It has been an interesting journey of adaptation and re-adaptation. One that I am sure will continue to develop and evolve as I experience cultures that I have not yet experienced.

Listening to Amos Oz this morning just made me realise that as human beings, we are an eclectic collection of the cultures and stories that have influenced our lives. I will always be the great-granddaughter of Italian immigrants, the product of a British education system in Cyprus, my time trying to understand my past in Italy, my adventures in Canada and my mix-matched adaptation to life in the United States. I will perpetually doubt myself when the program I am using underlines how I spell a word because I am using the British spelling, and will probably always have some words that I sometimes spell the American way, and other times the British way.

How about you, friends? Have the stories of your ancestors or your own migration patterns influenced who you are or who your children are? In what ways? If you would like to share, please do so in the comments section below. I would love to hear your thoughts. Have a great weekend!!

Turkey day

2011-11-23T16:45:00.000-08:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Tomorrow is Turkey day here in the US, a.k.a. thanksgiving day, which makes me reflect on the simple things I am feeling thankful for today. Like the forecast for rain tomorrow (I know more Californians would much rather have a clear blue sunny thanksgiving, but the idea of rain falling outside while we fill our bellies with delicious food and sip hot apple cider inside is my idea of heaven!). I somehow managed to pick up a sinus infection/swollen throat/fever yesterday morning, and although I managed to get through the day yesterday with it, by last night I collapsed into bed. I am still here, where I have been curled up all day sweating this thing out and reading novels. I am not a fan of being sick, but I am making the most of feeling rotten by catching up with my reading and sipping endless mugs of hot lemon and honey. It is so rare that my body makes me slow down, so when it does, I appreciate the extra time and sleep immensely.

As I type this my mother is out picking up gluten free pumpkin and apple pies. I rarely get to thoroughly enjoy ALL of a piece of pie because I cannot eat crusts made out of wheat, but this year I will not be having to scoop my pie out of its crust. I shall enjoy every last crumb!

My good friend Deepali just called to see how I was doing. Hearing her cheerful voice telling me that my sick voice makes me sound sultry made me laugh out loud because I am SO not feeling sultry lying here with my box of tissues, a red nose that puts Rudolph to shame, and wearing the same outfit I went to bed in last night.

Usually my family joins in with larger festivities for thanksgiving, but tomorrow we are going to have a small, just the three of us affair here at home. I had been wishing that we were going to something bigger, but now I am feeling grateful that we did not make an elaborate plan with friends that I would have had to pull out of.

Wherever you are, and whatever you are doing this thanksgiving day, I hope you are surrounded by those you love and feeling thankful for the blessings in your life. Happy thanksgiving friends!

When the boat, the ship and the helicopter fail

2011-11-21T22:29:00.000-08:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This morning one of my best friends, Deepali, came into the city to meet me for breakfast. Deepali works a crazy schedule, so I rarely get to see her. Even this morning she joined me after working the night shift at the University of California labs where she was analyzing the cells in blood. Yes. She is quite brilliant. Why she is asked to be brilliant all night is beyond me, but it did mean that she was here and wanting to grab breakfast this morning at our favourite breakfast joint, Orphan.

We drove across the city, the sky blue, the trees, sidewalks and lawns decorated in golds and reds as if a painter had gone to work all over the city, setting it aflame. At the breakfast place, we slid into a corner table and spent the next hour filling our bellies with delicious food and laughing and laughing. Deepali and I usually spend a good portion of our time together laughing. It is something I love about our friendship.

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

When we left I felt SO full of gratitude for my friend. For her honesty (or sometimes downright frankness) and her encouragement. For her wholehearted support of whatever I happen to be working towards at any given time. And for her ability to make me laugh at myself and at the same time help me to see how blind or stubborn I can sometimes be.

Today Deepali asked me if I had heard that story about the fellow who was stranded on the rooftop, the streets all around him flooded. He was praying to God to help him. A fellow in a boat rows by and offers him a ride to safety, but he waves him on, saying "I am waiting for God to help me." A little while later a huge ship goes by and offers to rescue him, but again he tells the crew that he is waiting for God to help him. Finally a helicopter appears, hovering above him and offering to lift him to safety, but again he tells the crew that he is waiting for God to save him.

I had heard that story before, but I like to indulge Deepali because I know that she always has a point, and that her point is usually precisely what I need to hear at any given time in my life. When she finished her story, she just looked at me, smiled, and raised her eyebrows. Point taken. Sometimes I pray and pray for something, and am blind to the answer or solution when it is placed squarely in front of me just because it is not what I expected. It falls outside of the realm of what I think I am capable of. Of what I am comfortable with. In short, the solution requires that I step outside of the limitations of my own comprehension of who I am and what I should be doing with my life and entertain the possibility that perhaps God's idea--wild and scary as it might seem--may just be exactly what I need to be doing at this moment in my life.

It is not a revolutionary idea. It is rather simple, really. Pray, and then receive your answer courageously when it arrives instead of declaring it impossible to accomplish and running as fast as you possibly can in the other direction. You know what I am talking about here, friends? Yeah. I thought so!

I am feeling grateful for Deepali. For the story that she repeated to me today. And for the delivery of it from one of my best friends to my face....evidently I needed to hear it again and since the boat, the ship and the helicopter had not succeeded, God sent my dear friend Deepali to deliver it instead. And you, friends? Do you have peeps who remind you to step back and reconsider a situation from a different perspective? who remind you that conversations with God are just like conversations with anyone--the response may not be what we expected? Have you told them lately how much you appreciate their presence in your life? Why not give it a try?

The genius of quirky

2011-11-18T15:46:00.000-08:00

A view across the morning fields at Soil Born Farms, California.

"Conversation is good; conversation can be good work; conversation is an absolutely necessity; meetings must meet, but all of our verbal conversations depend on a continuous conversation with the real patterns forming in an unspoken way at the centre of our work. We need this intensely personal, private conversation with what we do, or none of the other outer conversations make sense." -David Whyte, Crossing the Unknown Sea, p.197.

This past Wednesday I drove down to Sebastopol to meet with Jeff Barnum, an artist and entrepreneur who is bringing creativity together with individual, organizational and societal re-conceptualization to create innovative approaches to helping individuals, companies and organizations transform how they think, form relationships, and work together. Our meeting started with Jeff showing me a video. I will post the link of it for you below.

This is just a short clip taken from a film of Picasso painting. The reason Jeff showed it to me was to illustrate the idea that when you are trying to create a work of great beauty, you start with a central idea and build everything on this. In this instance, the bull's head. The rest of the painting is build around the head. But as Picasso reaches the end of his painting, he realizes that the head, at least as it has been since the beginning of the painting, has become an impediment to the painting becoming what it wants to be, so he paints over it. It is still there, of course -- just far more abstractly. The idea that Jeff was communicating was that often in order to succeed in accomplishing transformation, you have to be willing to sacrifice what you began with.

Jeff and I discussed many other things, and I have been reflecting on our conversation ever since returning to Sacramento. I am not sure where it will lead me, but I am really happy not only that he took the time out of his busy schedule to meet with me, but that I made the drive down there. Creating space and time for conversations like this is important. Creative collaboration and breakthroughs require that we create the space for the conversations and brainstorming to happen. Driving five hours for a 1.5 hour conversation may seem like an odd use of time, but I firmly believe that a lot can be born from a single conversation.

Conversations between people are important, but as David Whyte says, these only make sense when we are having the essential conversations with ourselves. To me this means that I am in tune with my soul--that I am having regular conversations with God.

David Whyte writes about genius in his book, Crossing the Unknown Sea. He says that "genius means to be unutterably oneself. The word genius in its Latin originality, means 'the spirit of a place'...the genius of an individual lies in the inhabitation of their peculiar and particular spirit in conversation with the world. Genius is something that is itself and no other thing."

When I look around me at those who inspire me, what I find is that it is the complete dedication to who they are that attracts me. Our material world is often so much about conformity. Media encourages us to buy clothing that is worn by hundreds, if not thousands of other people all over the world. We are sent through a school system that is built on the idea that one system fits all kinds of people (which, based on the number of brilliant human beings who were not well-served by the traditional education system, is clearly not true). We are funneled into careers that bear the same title no matter who we are. An accountant is an accountant. A lawyer is a lawyer. Of course each of us is an individual with distinct strengths and gifts, but these distinct qualities are rarely celebrated within the workplace.

Living in a world where we are constantly giving lip service to diversity but then simultaneously pursuing uniformity, often to the point of being apologetic for our unique talents and abilities, it is incredible to me that there are people out there who manage to recognize that the most valuable contributions that they have to give to the world are those elements of who they are that are unique. Quirky. Sometimes downright strange. Managing to nurture and fully commit to ones own unique talents while continuing to live and function within a system that is so weighted down by conformity is a tremendous accomplishment.

The last year I have been asking myself many questions about my life. About what my quirks are, and how to engage them in deep, meaningful and honest conversation, and then embrace and believe in them so completely that they become manifest in the world in positive and transformational ways.

My conversation with Jeff planted many seeds that are now germinating in me, but more importantly it made me confront the important question what am I here for? What is my main purpose in life--the purpose around which everything else is built? Has anyone asked you that before? It is worth considering. You might be a dancer, or a doctor, or a teacher, or accountant. You might be a mother, or sister or daughter, a son or brother or father or husband. But what do you think your unique purpose in life is? What is at the core of everything you do?

When I woke up this morning the sun was shining. It was brilliantly golden. The trees are intense colours. Yellow, orange, rust, red, green. A mosaic of colour. The wind was blowing, leaves flying past me, a shower of colourful confetti. A snow storm of magnificent hues. Every lawn is covered in colour, the are piles of leaves along the streets, and more scuttle across the asphalt. Everything is in motion. I went out for a walk through the neighbourhood to crunch through the fallen leaves and enjoy the brilliance of all that colour. When I got home the clouds had rushed in and a light rain had begun to fall. As I sit here now and write with a cup of steaming hot tea, all I can hear outside is wind, trees dancing, and leaves tumbling. It is the sound of change. The sound of letting go. Of detachment and transformation. Of the possibility of renewal.

Watching the trees sacrifice their lush, green selves and release their intensely coloured leaves to the earth reminds me of Picasso painting the bull's head, and sacrificing the initial image to achieve the unified, finished piece. The trees do this over and over, every year letting go of what they have been to embrace the new season. At the farm yesterday the kids that were on the field trip found a dead rabbit, a dead frog, and a line of chrysalises (the pupal stage of butterflies). In the natural world the loss of one thing to create another is constant and unquestioned, and all living things embrace their unique expression of beauty completely.

Do you live as the fullest expression of the reason you were placed on this planet? When someone asks you who you are, and what you are here to do, what is your answer?

Grapelandia

2011-11-16T22:00:00.000-08:00

I drove to Sebastopol today for a job-related meeting, passing through some of the most gorgeous wine country outside of Tuscany. Rolling hills embroidered with row after row of grape vines, their leaves all turning various hues of golden, orange and yellow. I drove down this morning, and back as the afternoon light was turning that warm golden shade that reminds me of ripe apricots. The sky was crisp blue. I was wearing a tank top and had the window rolled down in November. It was one of those days that my friends on Prince Edward Island will be dreaming about pretty soon. I only wish that someone else had been driving, because there were just not enough pull off areas to stop for photos everywhere I wanted to.

Still....

Not too shabby, eh?

Happy Wednesday, friends! I hope that these gorgeous sunny photos bring some warmth into your mid-week world! See you Friday!

Gratitude 7+

2011-11-14T21:43:00.000-08:00

"I have heard thy cries and am conscious of thy tears. Remember that God is faithful and do not doubt this. Be patient, even though great calamities come upon thee. Fear not! Be firm in the path of the Lord, as a mountain unmoved, unchanging in thy steadfastness. God has made afflictions as a morning shower to His green pastures and as a wick for His lamp, whereby earth and heaven are illumined." -Baha'u'llah

I love this quote. I found it years ago and wrote it into the front of my prayer book, and I find myself flipping to it every now and then when I am struggling with something, or just need to remind myself that hard times are a blessing in disguise.

This last week there have been many blessings that were not in disguise:

1. I got to speak to one of my best friends back on Prince Edward Island. It had been a while since I last heard her voice, and catching up with her on the phone made me more than happy. The magnitude of my happiness was evident by the fact that I spent the following hour wandering around the house singing at the top of my lungs. :-)

2. I had a creamy chai tea with one of my girlfriends on Friday afternoon. It was raining outside. We sat at the bar and caught up on each other's news. The place was bustling with people enjoying time with friends or reading the paper or a book instead of the usual tapping away at keyboards that is the norm Monday through Thursday. I love sipping tea on cool fall days in the company of a good friend, and the fact that I had an entire weekend ahead of me made it even better.

3. I attended a devotional gathering Friday night with a few friends. It may sound tame, but there are few things I would rather do on a Friday night than get together with friends and read inspiring quotes from various religious and spiritual traditions, and then discuss them. It's like all the thoughts and concerns of the week fall away, and all that is left is the joy of being alive and connected to other human beings. After the devotional we all bundled up and wandered over to a local Thai restaurant where we sipped Thai iced tea and enjoyed full plates of steaming hot curry, sticky rice, and coconut soup. It was a great night of spiritual and physical nourishment, and excellent company.

4. Saturday was the birth of Baha'u'llah, the Founder of the Baha'i faith. My community celebrated it at the home of a couple who love breakfast, so they invited us all over for a huge buffet breakfast followed by a lovely program of readings, prayers and music. My mom and I went together, which is something that I will not get to do always, so I am trying to enjoy sharing experiences like this with her as much as I can while I am here.

5. Saturday afternoon I went to spend some time with my dear friends Jairo and Leanna, and their gorgeous (almost two year old) son Teo. Teo is one of the most musically inclined children I know, and as soon as I arrived he set me up with a miniature piano, handed his mother a trumpet, and settled down with his drum. The three of us jammed and danced for a long time, and the joy that our session brought to Teo filled the room with laughter.

6. Sunday I spent most of the day at home hanging out, but in the afternoon my good friends Azadeh and Nabil came over and picked me up and we headed to their favourite coffee shop for hot drinks, a long chat about service, and a debate about whether where we live in the world really determines how happy we are (Azadeh said no. Nabil and said that it did. I said that I thought it could in certain circumstances). As the golden light of late afternoon and early evening filtered in the huge windows over us, our table, our white ceramic cups, Nabil's latest electronic device, and Azadeh's current book, I felt deeply content, and grateful for the long, lazy day of laughter, good conversation, and hot tea.

7. Today I had to meet my mother down town to give her a ride to an appointment. I got there early, so I wandered into yet another coffee shop to wait. Sitting there sipping my hot chocolate, writing in my journal and people watching as every fashion statement, height, age and ethnic background walked in and out of the coffee shop, I felt grateful to live in a world that has so much diversity, and excitement for the day ahead -- the job application I am working on. The meeting I have on Wednesday in the Bay area. The women's devotional gathering that we will be having at our house this Wednesday evening. Another day on the farm on Thursday, my Ruhi study on Thursday afternoon and another devotional gathering on Friday.

It is evening now. I made a big salad for dinner to go with my mother's salmon loaf and Persian rice. The lettuce in my salad is from the farm I volunteer on. I planted it with a group of kids who came to the farm on a field trip. It is incredibly beautiful. There is something deeply fulfilling about making a salad with lettuce that I planted with children and watched grow over the last few weeks. Each head looks like a blossoming flower. As I type this I am sipping chamomile lavender tea. I am looking forward to saying some prayers. To a good book. To drifting to sleep with the sound of my father composing a beautiful piece of music in the background.

And you, friends? What are you feeling grateful for today?

11/11/11

2011-11-11T23:59:00.000-08:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

You know the kind of friendship where you can not see the person for years, and then see them again and it is as if you just saw them yesterday? No need to fill in the gaps -- everything is just understood without the need for lots of explanation? Most of us have at least one friend like that in our lives. Helen is one such friend for me. I realized last night that she has miraculously managed to put up for me for twenty years so far. Twenty. That is a long time to know someone and call them friend. We have known each other through many ups and downs. Through the craziness and insecurity of high school; first loves; the enormous physical distance of my years in college in the United States; her becoming a wife and mother; my years of working in Italy; my years of studying and working in Canada, and so much more. Last night I left a dinner party to come home and call her on her birthday -- an annual tradition that I intend to keep up as long as my memory allows. She is ten hours ahead of me, so talking on her birthday meant that it was Thursday in my present and Friday in hers.

Occasionally I wonder how we have managed to maintain a friendship this long. Personally I think it is my ability to remember her birthday that keeps us going (she never remembers mine--a source of great irritation to her, and amusement to me...and yes, I do realize that it is not exactly like hers is difficult to remember, or anything), or the fact that I post photographs of her on my blog that she distinctly dislikes (she then has to call or write to express her displeasure), but in reality I know that our friendship is just one of life's unexplainable, but invaluable little gifts.

There are many things that I love about the friendship I share with Helen. Like the amount of patience (all of it on her part) that permeates our interactions. The fact that we remind each other to not take ourselves so seriously, and to laugh at ourselves. That we are able to recognize each others unique talents and capabilities and remind each other what these are when we need to be reminded. That we respect each others differences. The lack of judgment (and more patience on her part while I learned this essential skill) that exists when we listen to what each other is going through. The fact that we always somehow manage to be there for each other without expectation. A willingness to share what we are learning with each other. The knowledge that she will always remind me what I am capable of -- who I am and what my values are when I make choices that are not true to my highest self. That we are so supportive of each other, and that we both believe that the other is going to succeed with whatever she sets her mind to do with her life. That we are always honest with each other. That we share a love for God. That we both believe in the power of prayer. And that we laugh--a lot, sometimes late into the night.

Last night, talking to Helen on skype filled me with such happiness. Happiness that she and I are friends. That God brought her into my life. That we have managed to maintain our friendship through so many of life's ups and downs. And that she was born on this special day.

Happy, happy birthday, Helen! I hope you had a superb evening!

And you, friends? Do you have a friend whose presence rocks your world?

Imperfect

2011-11-10T00:39:00.000-08:00

I just got home from Riverdance. It was an incredible show. The dancing was out of this world. I fell head-over-heels in love with the fiddler. And I will be lucky if I manage to sleep at all tonight as I can't seem to keep my legs still. There are a lot of things that I thought I would take away from the Riverdance performance that I did. The music. The beat. The incredible rhythm that those dancers have in their feet. The infectious energy...

One thing I did not expect to take away from it was a lesson in following your heart no matter what. At one point in the performance I noticed that one of the male dancers only had one hand. He was a spectacular dancer, and it was so unnoticeable that I am sure nobody else saw it, but having noticed it, I found my eyes drawn back to him again and again throughout the performance, thinking to myself: "wow. That man has what many would consider to be a physical disability yet he is up there dancing with some of the most accomplished dancers in the world. Wait --he IS one of the most accomplished dancers in the world."

There are so many things that keep us from accomplishing our goals in life. Our fears. Our self-criticism or judgment. And yet people do incredible things every day despite their handicaps. For some people, like the dancer tonight, it is a physical limitation that can (if we let it) prevent us from pursuing our dreams. For others, like me, it is a mental limitation that we impose upon ourselves. Ultimately it is all the same thing, though. Letting things get in the way. Allowing life's little challenges to prevent us from accomplishing something really big. Something that might bring us joy.

What's up with that, friends? Why do we think that our own human imperfections are an impediment to happiness or success? Is it because the media is telling us that to be happy or successful, we have to be perfect? Is it messages we are imposing upon ourselves and our own lives? A combination of the two? I do not have the answer here. I'm just saying that the dancer up there on that stage spinning his partner and stomping to the beat IS ON TO SOMETHING. Thinking that we deserve any less happiness or success than anyone else simply because we are not perfect really makes no sense. I mean, what beauty is there is perfection? And if others are succeeding with their imperfections, why are some of us still holding happiness or success at bay until we have acquired enough perfection to achieve our goals? I'm telling you, friends, this is something that bears some looking at, wouldn't you say?

By heart

2011-11-07T17:18:00.000-08:00

"God doesn't give you the people you want. He gives you the people you need. To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you, and to make you the person you were meant to be."

I found the above quote here. Not sure who said it, but today it is resonating, so I thought I would share it with you. I have been thinking a lot lately about the people who have influenced my life in positive ways. Most of these people are still in my life. A few of them are not -- they came through and headed on down a path that did not include me; I headed off in a direction that they did not understand; some have passed away, so they are still a part of my community spiritually, but no longer physically, and some friendships just fade as inexplicably as they arrived.

I have been thinking a lot about a friend of mine who has not been in my life for many years now, but who I still think often enough that when I read the quote at the top of the page, he immediately came to mind. It is his birthday this week, and as often happens with people whose lives touch me deeply, even long after they are no longer around, I find myself slowing down every year on his birthday and giving thanks for the positive ways he has influenced who I am. For the gifts he brought. The laughter. For opening my heart in new ways. Rarely do I thank God for bringing someone into my life to hurt me or leave me, so this quote is giving me pause to reflect on how having this man both leave and hurt me has helped push me further towards being the person I am meant to be.

It is one of life's many hidden blessings that it is rarely the people who are mere acquaintances, the people who do not really matter to us; who pass by without staying long enough to form lasting bonds--that hurt us. Usually those who hurt us most are those we love the most. Those we have allowed ourselves to be vulnerable with. Whose presence in our lives feels essential. It is a blessing because although it hurts, usually there has been enough love shared in these relationships that we do not, or can not simply write them off. Whether we mend the relationship or walk away, the pain and loss that we experience in these relationships make us pause to listen, because we know there are important life lessons in this kind of pain if we tune in to them and use them to grow.

Today I was thinking about this one particular friend, and how much losing his presence in my life has influenced who I am today. I often see this from the perspective of who I would have been if he were still in my life, but I think that many of the things I am most proud of being today -- honest, affectionate, faithful, committed, true to my heart, respectful of myself and others, prayerful, consistent, devoted, strong-hearted and independent, graceful, and loving others for who they are rather than who I want them to be -- are things I have become since my friend let go of our friendship in order to stay true to his dreams and heart. Sometimes losing those we love helps us to become the person we are meant to be.

Life is so rich in comings and goings. In knowing when to take risks, when to fight for something, when to let go gracefully, and when to love with everything in our hearts. Today I am feeling grateful for my friend. For the joys he brought when he was in my life, and the gifts he gave me by leaving.

And you friends? Have you given thanks today for those whose paths have crossed your own and kept going? For the beauty of that point of meeting, and the direction, texture and purpose that your life has developed since you headed off in different directions?

This is a recording of Eva Cassidy singing I Know You By Heart, a favourite song of mine, and one that always reminds me to be grateful for the gifts that everyone who passes through my life -- whether for a short or a long time--bring to my life. I am not a big fan of the video, but the sound quality on the recording is excellent.

It takes a village

2011-11-05T01:17:00.000-07:00


Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission

The expression "it takes a village to raise a child" is an African proverb that was supposedly popularized by Hillary Clinton. It came to mind today because I woke up this morning thinking about my village back on Prince Edward Island. The photo above is not everyone back on Prince Edward Island that was a part of my community, but when I look at this group of people, there is not one person in this picture that I do not love deeply -- whose kindness and friendship has not changed my perception of reality and relationships in profound and lasting ways.

Often in life we do not allow ourselves to love people outside of our immediate circle -- our husbands, boyfriends, wives, girlfriends, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, maybe a small circle of close friends -- with an open heart. There may be good reasons for that. I am not sure. All I know is that the group of people in this photo -- my village of friends on Prince Edward Island -- completely transformed the way I love other human beings, and my capacity to love. When I moved to Prince Edward Island my love capacity was probably the size of a large bucket. When I left it looked more like a large oil tanker. I learned that there is no limit to love. The more you give, the more you are able to give, and the more you receive, the greater your capacity for receiving becomes. It may sound inconsequential, but sometimes the simplest things are the most revolutionary, and learning to love others wholeheartedly and being loved back is probably one of the most revolutionary things I have ever experienced.

The people in this photograph shared stories and laughter with me. They imparted knowledge to me. They listened when I needed to talk, encouraged me, believed in me, and served alongside me. They reminded me to not take life too seriously, challenged me, prayed with me, cheered me on, and reminded me what was important when i occasionally lost my way. They cooked meals for me, went for walks with me, recommended books, and welcomed me into their homes and families. They gave me rides, loaned me their cars, drove me to the airport when I traveled, and were waiting at the arrivals gate every time I came home. And all of this without ever asking for anything in return. There were no conditions placed on the love they showed me. No requirements. No limitations.

I was talking to someone recently about love, and they told me that they had never been in a community that they felt as loved and supported in as I describe having felt on PEI. It saddened me to hear this, and at the same time made me realize how much greater our potential in life as individuals and as a society is when we are given the support and love of our community.

I have been thinking recently that thanks to the people in this photograph, I have so much more love to give to others, and that loving without motive or expectation is an agent of change at the most profound level of human existence. There is so much need for love in the world. What a gift to not only know what it feels like to be loved deeply by your village, but to understand in your heart that, having been showered with so much love, you are in a position to shower others and perpetuate the process of social and spiritual transformation so that it extends far beyond yourself and your own family to encompass all human beings.

Like I said, sometimes the simplest things in life are the most revolutionary. Have a superb weekend, friends!!

What colour is your roar?

2011-11-02T23:50:00.000-07:00

This photo is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

"What better resolution can we make than to listen to our own desires which are messengers from our souls, and to have the courage to obey them?" ~Edward Bach

"Almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure -- these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart." ~Steve Jobs

"According to the laws of aerodynamics the bumblebee should be unable to fly. Because of the size, weight and shape of its body in relationship to the total wing span, flying is scientifically impossible. The bumblebee, being ignorant of scientific theory, goes ahead and flies anyway." ~John Maxwell

I have been thinking about courage. The courage to be who I am, and empower others to be who they are. Let me explain. Over the past few days I have come across a number of people who both lived and are living examples of what it means to essentially, undeniably, gloriously and passionately embrace ones differences. Two of these individuals I came across on Chookooloonks. One is Steve Jobs, who I have written about before. Karen Walrond posted a link to this eulogy about Steve Jobs, given by his sister at his memorial service. Like you, I have read a lot about Steve Jobs in the last few weeks. But this gave me a totally different perspective on the man's life. It made me realize how courageous he was. Yes, he was brilliant and creative and so many other things as well. But none of his brilliance would have been made manifest had he not embraced what made him different from everyone else. And that takes courage.

Karen Walrond also shared a link to a short documentary about Beyonce, and the making of her latest album "4." This documentary is inspiring because Beyonce is a tremendously driven and hard-working woman with a very clear vision and an undeniable amount of talent. The woman exudes rhythm. None of that talent would be manifested in the world without courage though. A tremendous amount of it. She has a vision, and she does not let anything prevent her from realizing it. Even if that means a whole lot of extra work for her and everyone around her. She is being her essential self, and she is not apologetic about it.

The last few days I was reading Say Her Name, by Francisco Goldman. Goldman's wife, Aura Estrada, is no longer alive, but the short time she was here she lived with such passion and presence that I closed the book and lay in bed silently for a long time, in awe. Her devotion to her writing and her academic career was so complete. Her commitment to incorporating everything that made her who she was into her work so absolute. I have been thinking about her ever since I closed the book. She had a courage was so fierce that I pity anyone who tried to stand in her way. The woman blazed courage.

And then today a friend sent a link to an interview that she just did for China Radio International, in Beijing, China. My friend, Shirin Sahba Moore is an exceptionally talented painter. She has lived all over the world, and her artwork incorporates all the cultures and landscapes she has experienced. Her paintings are very different from anything I have seen before, and, probably in part because of this (and because they are stunningly beautiful), they are in high demand. Shirin may not see it this way, but from my perspective, the way she embraces what makes her and her life different, and creates works of art from that place of difference, is courageous. More courage.

Tonight we had a women's devotional gathering in our living room. I chose the readings and music, and the theme I decided on was courage. The three quotes at the top of this page are from tonight's readings. The question on my mind is: What makes us take that step of personal courage that enables each of us to realize our fullest potential? For some the step seems to come, if not easily, then at least naturally. But what about the rest of us, I wonder? How do we move from realizing what our unique, and different gifts are to fully manifesting them in the world in a way that is both personally fulfilling and of service to humanity?

How about you, friends? How do you practice courage in embracing--fully--who you are? What colour is your roar?

Pumpkin pie smells like love

2011-10-31T23:43:00.000-07:00

"Thought is an agent of change." -Aura Estrada, 2003

I am reading the book "Say Her Name," by Fracisco Goldman. It is an interesting read, made more interesting by the fact that I started reading not realizing that it is a true, non-fiction work based on his relationship with the woman who he was blessed to call his wife for a far too brief period of time. Knowing it is not fiction only makes the story more moving. The quote above is by Francisco's wife, Aura. It is so true. What you think as you wake up in the morning sends out ripples of energy into the world that influence EVERYTHING and EVERYONE around you. Worth reflecting on what we think about, wouldn't you say?

Yesterday my mother and I baked pumpkin pies. I have yet to taste them. The joy for me was in making them with my mama, and getting to inhale the warm, sweet aroma of the pies baking in the oven and then cooling on the counter while I sat and had a hot cup of black tea with my mama in the kitchen with the back door open into the garden and that late afternoon/early evening golden sunlight falling into the back hall real slow.

Earlier today I sat with my dad and said prayers for a three hour hospital procedure that he had to go do this afternoon, but that ended up taking much longer than expected. It took so long for the anesthesia to wear off that he came home in the midst of neighbourhood tricker treaters. Mom and I practically carried him up the front steps, trying to not scare the kids streaming up and down the sidewalks in our tricker-treating mecca neighbourhood, and into their bedroom, tucked him into bed, fed him chamomile tea through a straw and warmed his icy cold hands up with our own. I thought: this is my dad, and no matter how rarely we connect at the level I wish we could connect, I love him. It's as simple as that. It doesn't matter how close I am to my father...it is scary to see him look so awful--even when I know this time it is nothing too serious. This time. But I know some day it will be, and some day he won't be here any more physically for me to warm his hands and hold the teacup just so, so that he can sip it using a straw. So I sit on his bed and think: "I love you, dad."

It is late. The tricker treaters are all gone home to bed. I am ready to crawl into my own nest and read until I fall asleep. Outside it is finally cool enough to close the windows at night and not boil inside. Not like we are having snow storms that put thousands out of power like they are experiencing on the east coast, but it is cooling off. I am thinking about a story I am trying to write. About a job application I sent out into the universe today. About an editing job I just got helping a friend of a friend with two book projects he is working on. Wondering where I will be come spring. Wondering where my work and heart will lead me. Wondering what I will create tomorrow. I am also thinking that I am grateful for my parents. For the walk I took with my dad yesterday afternoon. For the baking session with my mom. For the chance to cook dinner for my tired mom so she would have something hot to eat when she got home from the hospital tonight with my dad. For the book I am reading, and for Aura's comment: "Thought is an agent of change."

Uninterrupted sun Scrooge hits the you're-in-the-west-now-slow-down-and-appreciate-(uber) subtle-season-shifts button

2011-10-28T21:42:00.000-07:00

Call me old fashioned, but I like activities that slow me down. Shelling beans, making a meal from scratch, even peeling almonds, crushing them, and pressing almond milk out of them (and separating three of my nails from the nail beds in the process) sounds like heaven to me. I like the physical motion, the smells, the colours, and knowing that when I am done I will have a very physical, visual result (or a bottle of very creamy almond milk in the fridge!!)

I have been on the computer a lot lately. That is how it goes when your life is job hunting, applying for jobs and writing. I try to take myself away from the computer throughout the day, but lately I have been finding myself in front of it more often than not. Through the window, or when I rush off to pick a family member up from work, or on my way to or from a friend's house, i notice that the season is changing in the trees, but since it is still hot enough to wear sandals and tank tops, I find myself becoming a bit indifferent about the weather. More sunshine. I notice myself not noticing the details of the shift in season. I hear my (charming) self answering "no" when family members ask me whether I have noticed a change in the smell of the air outside.

Every now and then I will stop and look at the trees, and think to myself: how is it possible that they are changing colour and losing their leaves when it is still so warm outside? Canada has effectively spoiled my lifelong distaste for any cloud that dares interrupt a perfectly blue sky, it seems. Where are the CLOUDS, I say to the sky when I roll up the blinds and sunlight pours into my bedroom at the end of October. I have to smile. My non-hockey playing friends back in Canada would kill for weather like this.

I may have become a bit of a weather Scrooge. Maybe it is time for me to slow down a bit more like I did two days ago when I trashed the entire kitchen trying to make homemade almond milk (for the record, it is DELICIOUS, and my nails are slowly healing -- but has anyone come across an almond peeling device? ). Maybe in order to tune into the shift of season I need to take more walks. I haven't taken a walk in over two weeks. I know. Awful. Not like me at all. I am glad it is Friday. I have been working on a job application all week that I finally finished this evening. Maybe I will take a walk this weekend. Crunch through some leaves. Notice the (uber) subtle changes that characterize the shift of seasons out west. Make peace with my outer landscape. Tomorrow is Saturday. The newspaper says it promises to be sunny yet again. Maybe I will take a walk under that irrepressible blue sky and watch the squirrels collect nuts. Maybe I will lie on my back under a tree and watch leaves falling. Maybe I will collect a few and bring them home.

How do you tune in to your outer landscape? How do you slow down and bring your own rhythm into sync with the natural world around you? Enjoy your weekend, friends!

Gems of inestimable value

2011-10-26T22:21:00.000-07:00

Photo property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

"People don't rise from nothing. We do owe something to parentage and patronage. The people who stand before kings may look like they did it all by themselves. But in fact they are invariably the beneficiaries of hidden advantages and extraordinary opportunities and cultural legacies that allow them to learn and work hard and make sense of the world in ways others cannot ... Biologists often talk about the 'ecology' of an organism: the tallest oak in the forest is the tallest not just because it grew from the hardiest acorn; it is the tallest also because no other trees blocked its sunlight, the soil around it was deep and rich, no rabbit chewed through its bark as a sapling, and no lumberjack cut it down before it matured. We all know that successful people come from hardy seeds. But do we know enough about the sunlight that warmed them, the soil in which they put down roots, the rabbits and lumberjacks they were lucky enough to avoid?"

~ Malcolm Gladwell, Outliers: The Story of Success

There are a few things I rarely do. One is use a quote that I read on someone else's blog on my own blog. The quote above I read this morning on my favourite blog, Chookooloonks, by Karen Walrond. I am sharing it here because I have been thinking about it all day. It resonates deeply with me.

I have a friend who is living in Ghana with her three kids and her husband. She lives in a part of the world where she is surrounded by people who have had fewer resources and opportunities to build their lives on than she has. Over the last couple of months, a number of the neighbourhood children have started coming to her house and asking her to teach them. My friend at first thought that they just needed help with learning things that they were challenged by at school, but in the last week she has realized that these children, some of whom are eight and nine years old, are almost completely illiterate. She is angered by the fact that people in some areas of the world have so much, and these children living around her are not even being provided with basic literacy skills. As she says, she can help them to the best of her ability, but the need is much greater than just this group of children, and she cannot address the lack of educational or other resources available to the children on a larger scale.

Yesterday we had two children's librarians sitting in our living room sipping tea. One of them told me all about her two sons, both of whom were privately educated through high school, and attended two of the highest ranked universities in the country. They worked very hard, and are doing very well for themselves, and needless to say, she is very proud of them.

Listening to her speak, I wondered why we don't take personal pride in educating ALL our children. I recognize that we have a responsibility to educate our own children, but do we not have an equal responsibility to educate ALL children?

The librarian told me that when she went to enroll her son in a public high school in one of the southern states of the U.S., she was told that at this particular school, out of 120 freshmen, only 40% actually graduate, and out of that 40%, only 20 go on to university. Consulting with her son later, she asked him what he thought about attending this school, and he said "if my friends don't go to college, why would I?" Good point. Why would he? So she enrolled him in a private high school that had a 100% graduation expectation rate, and he is now in college, after which he will undoubtedly contribute something unique and valuable to society. My question is: what about those kids in the public school? Why are we not concerned that the unique gifts that they have to contribute to society may never be manifested?

The Baha'i writings say that we should "regard man as a mine rich in gems of inestimable value. Education can, alone, cause it to reveal its treasures, and enable mankind to benefit therefrom." How much capacity for progress across the globe are we neglecting by not supporting our children, and enabling them to get an education?

It is a question that is heavy in my mind, friends, and one of the reasons that I am a Baha'i. I like the emphasis on the education of children -- ALL children -- and the training of teachers to teach children at the neighbourhood level, as well as within the formal school system. Nevertheless, I would like to read more in the newspaper about positive changes in our education policies. The bottom up needs to work with the top down to be effective on a large scale. I wonder how long it will take our governments to start recognizing that educating our children is the best investment in the economy that they can make? The world, just like the incredible spider web that I photographed on the farm last week, is all interconnected. There is no way that the children who are so in need of educational opportunities that they willingly and happily come to my friend's home in Africa, or the youth that drop out of high school in many areas of the United States due to low expectations are not impacting the global community and the potential for global progress. Each one of them has potential that is not being given a chance to grow and develop, and eventually contribute back to society in a manner that is entirely unique to that individual.

What are your thoughts on opportunity and access to education? I would love to hear your experiences, reflections and ideas about this important topic.

I hope you have a wonderful Thursday, friends! See you here Friday.

Joyful weekend madness

2011-10-24T14:51:00.000-07:00

This past weekend made me very conscious of how much beauty I am surrounded by. On Friday I volunteered at Soil Born Farms. It was a gorgeous Fall day. The sky was (as usual!) clear blue; the air was crisp; the sky was filled with birds feasting on the remains of the harvest, and we had just over thirty fifth-graders on the farm. We started off our tour by learning about winter squash, which had just been harvested.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

The kids were excited to learn about the many varieties that are grown on the farm, and were especially enthusiastic about the pumpkins, and the idea of pumpkin pie!

After a tour of the farm, on which the kids got to pet the cows and the American Guinea Hogs, we divided the group into three groups. My group weeded the broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage and lettuce that we have planted with other groups over the last few weeks. While we harvested, I got to talk to the kids. The conversation went something like this:

Boy in my group: "Miss Ariana, wouldn't it be cool if there were a vacuum cleaner machine that you could put over the top of the bed and suck up all the weeds without pulling out the crop?"

Me: "Yes. But isn't it neat how when you take the time to hand weed, you get to notice little details about the vegetable plants that you wouldn't notice otherwise like how fast they are growing; whether they have insects on them, and which ones; whether they are getting enough water or too much; whether they look healthy or not?"

Boy: "No. I like the vacuum cleaner idea better."

Nevertheless, we did weed the entire bed of crops, and the kids did learn why this is important, and at the end of the day they gave a very well-articulated presentation to the other kids about the process. And despite the seeming lack of interest on the part of a number of the kids while we were working, at the end of the day I learned that for many of them, weeding was their favourite activity of the day.

Lesson of the day: Just because I think the kids' focus is wandering does not mean that they are not enjoying themselves and learning from the experience.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Friday evening I joined friends for a devotional gathering. A devotional can be many things. Our devotional is a group of friends from a variety of backgrounds. We come together every Friday night to read prayers, poems, stories, passages and tablets. Anything that inspires. It is a re-filling of the soul time. A time for regathering of spiritual energies at the end of a long week, and preparation for a great weekend ahead. Often there is a theme. This past Friday the theme was purity. After devotions we usually head out for dinner together to enjoy good company and great food. This Friday the group voted for Indian. We had a long dinner that went on and on. So long in fact that the restaurant started locking up as we left. It was an evening of warmth and stories and lots of laughter.

On Saturday morning I volunteered at a children's education day and craft fair at Soil Born Farms. A friend of mine joined me, so the two of us pulled up on the farm at 8.30am, just as the warm sun was illuminating the dew tipped remains of the recently harvested crops. We spent the day making art with children. Cady made picture frames that the kids decorated with rice and beans. I painted prayer flags with the kids and hung them up to dry on a clothes line. There are few things as beautiful as all those brightly painted squares of fabric blowing on the line in the sunshine. At noon we packed everything up and were invited to join the farm staff for meal prepared using ingredients from the farm. We filled our plates with roasted vegetables, stewed vegetables, and butternut apple soup, and headed outside to a long table set up beneath the wide green canopy of an enormous oak tree. Sitting at that table surrounded by old friends and new, with the blue sky above, and the golden light all around us I felt such an incredible sense of gratitude for the community that I have built around me, and that has welcomed me in this past year.

When I left the farm I headed further out of town to spend some time with one of my best friends, Deepali, who I have not been able to see in a number of months because she started a new job at a local hospital as a lab tech, and has such a crazy schedule of night shifts and day shifts that she is pretty much always too tired to get together. Her husband was out of town for a few days, so she called and asked if I would come out for a visit. Her home is beautiful -- it is a geodesic dome, which means it is round, and has light coming in from all angles, including the roof. The house is surrounded by old oak trees, and bordered by a pond on one side and a swimming pool on the other. Deepali and her husband Chad have planted fruit trees all around their property, Deepali planted a vegetable garden, and a group of us helped to renovate a barn on the property that is now being used by an artist friend of theirs to create works of great beauty.

Deepali and I spent our early evening at a local Vietnamese restaurant nursing bowls of rice noodles and vegetables in broth, and catching up on each other's news. Once we were all caught up we headed back to her place for her weekly fireside. A fireside is a gathering of people interested in learning more about the Baha'i faith. Deepali's fireside this week focused on what the Baha'i writings have to say about the nature of the soul. Often the group that turns up is large. This past Saturday however it was a small group of us. Myself and Deepali, Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar, a couple who recently moved back from fifty years of serving the Baha'i community abroad in Israel and Latin America; Sholeh -- a lovely Persian woman who also served abroad in Israel; David -- a half Indian, half Mexican fellow who is investigating the Baha'i faith; and Dale -- a Mormon man who is exploring a variety of faiths. The seven of us spent most of the night reading quotes about the nature of the soul, and having an animated and deeply engaging discussion. At a little after ten it was discovered that Mr. Dunbar was the artist responsible for the gorgeous artwork covering all the walls, and that he had more artwork out in the barn, so the entire group migrated out to the barn to see more of his paintings. It was a night of many, many stories, connections, hot tea, cheesecake, and lots of laughter. By the end of it I was so tired that I ended up deciding to stay the night at Deepali's home and drive back to the city in the morning.

Sunday morning I flew back into Sacramento on the six lane highway that always makes me feel as if I am in a movie (I never thought I would live somewhere where I regularly drive on roads so large to get around) in time to get picked up by my dear friend Dionne for our morning tea date. She and her son Lucas and I headed off to a local coffee shop where we ordered soy chai lattes sprinkled with cinnamon, and headed outside to sip them in the morning sunlight. It was the perfect second start to the day.

At 2pm yesterday Dionne, her husband Todd, son Lucas and I migrated over to the park where a bunch of my friends were meeting up to play bocce ball and frisbee and horse shoe ringing. It was a great day to be outside, and we spent the next three hours alternately lying on a blanket and chatting, and running around on the grass. As the sun started sinking in the horizon we decided to go fill our bellies with Mexican food and then head back to Dionne's house for board games.

Last night, lying in bed, I was replaying the weekend, and realizing what an incredible life I have, and what a fun-loving group of friends I am surrounded by. It is often hard for me to believe that I have been here in Sacramento for over a year and a half now, but when I look around me at the community I have become a part of it is incredible that I have ONLY been here for a year and a half. I often take stock of my life by what I have accomplished with my work, discounting the human relationships. But I think the biggest accomplishments in my life over the past 18 months have been in the human relationship department. I have met SO many new people, and been welcomed into the lives of so many new friends. I have learned a great deal from all the children and youth that come to learn on the farm I volunteer on. I have learned a lot about farming in a more arid environment. I have learned loads about what it takes to give birth to and raise a happy, healthy child. I have become an active member of the Sacramento Baha'i community. I have struggled with, and am constantly re-negotiating and reinventing my relationship with my parents. And I have even learned how to maintain healthy friendships with folks back in Canada over a vast physical distance. It has been an amazing 18 months. I am looking forward to the start of the cooler weather, and to the winter ahead.

How about you, friends? When you look back over the last year, and take stock of what you have accomplished, are you amazed at how much you have accomplished? At how much love you have given and received? At the incredible community that embraces you, and that you can call home?

Joy like water

2011-10-19T18:26:00.000-07:00

This past spring I spent two weeks in the Dominican Republic helping to build a drinking water system in a rural, organic cocoa-farming community. It was a life-changing experience, but we had some pipes burst when we first turned the water on, and it took so long to fix the pipes that the group I was volunteering with ended up having to leave before the village we were staying in turned on their water taps, so we did not get to see the reaction of our hosts to having running water.

The pipes were fixed this summer, but I did not feel a sense of closure on the project until I received this photo, first thing this morning:

Followed by this photo:

Aren't they pure joy? Seeing these women, who welcomed us into their homes with such contentment on their faces gives me more joy than I felt the entire trip, and that is saying something, because I had a sublime two weeks in the Dominican Republic. When we left, the main satisfaction I felt was my own -- knowing that I had contributed to the process of making sure that the cocoa farmers would have clean drinking water. Knowing I had done my best. And of course the sheer enjoyment of the process of all that hard physical work we did, the incredible landscapes, and getting to know the local communities and my fellow volunteers. It was satisfying, but the satisfaction was all on a personal level.

Seeing these photographs is satisfying on a whole different level. This was the reason we went. To contribute to improving the quality of life for the people who produce the delicious cocoa that we all love so. People who welcomed us into their homes, and made us feel so much a part of the community while we were in La Laguna. Seeing their joy completes the circle. Contributing to the happiness of others really is the best, isn't it?

Wishing you a lovely Thursday, friends!

Monday roots

2011-10-17T17:07:00.000-07:00

Things I am feeling grateful for on this gloriously sunny Monday:

1. My volunteer work on the farm, and the opportunity to learn from and with children and youth outside while growing and harvesting organic food.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

2. My partner at crime on the farm, Guy. He is the director of education at Soil Born, and I not only enjoy working with him, I have learned an amazing amount about teaching kids and youth from him over the past seven and a half months.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

3. Writing dates with my dear friend and fellow writer, Ahava, who is a creativity and loving inquiry mentor in British Columbia, Canada. You can check her work out here.

4. Artwork. Our house usually has beautiful artwork on all the walls. Since we moved into this new place last summer we had not taken the time to hang all our artwork, and so the house just did not really feel like a home. This past weekend my mother and I fixed this by getting out a hammer and some nails and hanging colour all over our walls. The painting over the fireplace and the one by itself between the two chairs are both the work of my dear friend Louise Mould, back on Prince Edward Island. Aren't they gorgeous?

5. The Mary Oliver poetry reading I went to on Friday. There were close to 600 people there. She is getting rather frail, but once she made it to the podium she was all humour and stories, and inspired us all with her deep enjoyment of the process of sharing her poetry with her audience. She received a standing ovation from us at the end, and had the threatre raise the lights so that she could see all our faces and blow kisses to us. There is something extremely profound about seeing the impact that a writer like Mary Oliver has had on so many lives at this point in her career. It was deeply moving.

6. The grape vineyards of Napa Valley are all making the transition into Fall, the leaves all just starting to tinge red and orange at the edges. Unfortunately I was driving, and my designated photographer had some technical difficulties, but the rolling hills and patchwork quilt of vineyards in the fall were breathtaking.

This morning I woke up and wrote a short little poem as I began my day. I am grateful for the poem, the day, and looking forward to the evening, and the last golden rays that are leaning in my window at an angle now as I type. I will leave you with my little poem. What are you feeling grateful for today, friends?

There is something daring about morning sunlight--

The way it blazes unselfconsciously

Full of joy

Down through the layers of Fall leaves, setting every vein on fire,

through windows left unshaded,

its whisper calling out in sing-song tones, asking

What will you create today?

Listening to poetry

2011-10-13T19:59:00.000-07:00

I am heading off to hear Mary Oliver read her poetry in Santa Rosa tomorrow, so thought I would end the week by sharing two of her poems. Mary Oliver is an incredible writer who has redefined our relationship to the natural world over and over again through her poetry. If you have not read her poetry before, I encourage you to google her, or go check some of her poetry out at your local library so you can hold its weight on the page between your palms as you read it.

Whatever you do this weekend, I hope it includes moments of poetry, and the crisp beauty of the of Fall! Have a great weekend, friends!

The Journey, by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Sleeping in the Forest, by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,

she took me back so tenderly,

arranging her dark skirts, her pockets

full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,

nothing between me and the white fire of the stars

but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths

among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

breathing around me, the insects,

and the birds who do their work in the darkness.

All night I rose and fell, as if in water,

grappling with a luminous doom. By morning

I had vanished at least a dozen times

into something better.

Mid-week compassion

2011-10-12T22:41:00.000-07:00

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend." -Albert Camus

The past two weeks have been tough ones for me. I almost don't want to use the word "tough" anymore because the past year and a half since I left Canada have been tough, and I think I may have overused the word to the point where it has lost its meaning, but lets just say things have been hard in my universe. I have had an incredible number of amazing experiences, and have been surrounded by superb friends non-stop, which has made the challenges easier to bear, but they have not ceased to exist completely. I injured my neck two weeks ago doing an inversion yoga workshop, and my doctor recommended that I visit a chiropractor who specializes in adjusting the atlas -- the vertebrae right at the top of the spine -- one one that the scull sits on. I have been going to this specialist for two weeks now, and he has not yet managed to get the atlas to sit in the right place, so I have been feeling nauseated and having headaches on and off for two weeks straight. I have also been having stomach problems that my doctor has not been able to diagnose, which means that I have stomach aches on and off pretty much every day.

I have always had a strong body. Everything else could be falling apart, but my body was always right there for me, so coming to terms with the pain and uncertainty the last two weeks has left me feeling overwhelmed and discouraged.

I also decided this past week that I was setting a deadline for finding work for January. By January I want to have steady work again. In order to take steps towards making that a reality, I delivered job applications to the only large (hiring) bookstore in the city, and the local food coop, in the hope that they might offer me at least part time work.

So far neither my job applications nor my doctor appointments have proven successful in accomplishing my goal of become both employed and healthy. Today I got home from a doctors appointment and collapsed onto my couch with a box of tissues. I felt like playing "it's my party and i'll cry if I want to" (for the record, I didn't ;-)).

Fortunately my dad is on vacation right now, and he witnessed my complete meltdown and knew it was time for some compassion. He told me to grab my bag and my dark sunglasses, and meet him in the car. When I finally made it out to the car with my wad of tissues, he announced that we were going out for burgers. I looked at him like he was crazy. "Dad, it's 3.30 in the afternoon," I said. "Nobody will still be serving lunch at this hour." "This is California," he said to me. "We will find somewhere." So we drove to a (practically empty) restaurant that was serving, and ordered burgers and fries. My dad just sat there with me. He didn't try to be funny or attempt to make me feel better. He knew I was at the end of my tether, and just needed a good meal in my belly and the presence of someone who cared. We ate mostly in silence, and by the time we were done I was feeling a good deal better. He drove me home, confident that I would be able to make it through the rest of the day (I did. And managed to get work done before the end of the work day, which given my state earlier, was a tremendous accomplishment).

This evening I had a date to talk with my dear friend Ahava on the phone. But by dinner my head was hurting so much that I didn't even feel like supper, let alone chatting on the phone. I sent an email to Ahava telling her that I was not up to our chat, and asking if we could postpone it til another day. Fortunately she did not get my email, and at the designated time, the phone rang. I started our conversation by telling her that I was not sure I was up for our chat, but within the first two minutes of our conversation, I could tell that I talking with Ahava was exactly what I needed to be doing. We talked for about an hour, sharing our news and accomplishments, our fears and challenges, our hopes and plans and moments of joy and vulnerability and uncertainty. Best of all, we laughed. We always do.

Talking with Ahava, and my dad's kindness today reminds me that sometimes when I am trying my hardest, and nothing seems to be working, the best thing to do is show myself a little compassion. Laugh. Take a bath. Make myself a cup of tea. Call a girlfriend who knows that I am not all disaster and disintegration -- that I can laugh at life and myself, that I am continuing to do my best even when there are few visual indications that I am making progress...I tend to be very self-critical, and remembering to just "be," as Ahava says, is so vital to regaining balance when the equilibrium has been upset.

I am working on editing three poems to send off to a poetry competition on Friday. It is the first time I am submitting poems to anything in a few years, and I have been so nervous about it that I kept putting it off and putting it off. This afternoon, after my hamburger outing with my father, I edited my second poem. On Friday I will send the poems off.

I was speaking with Ahava this evening about baby steps. Sometimes, I am realizing, baby steps are actually giant. This week just getting through the work week is going to be a major accomplishment. Sending off my packet of poems is going to be truly monumental.

In this world where success is measured by constant growth, and rewarded with even more work, it is hard to give ourselves permission to just "be." To admit that our bodies are not always going to function perfectly, and that even if we try our hardest, sometimes things just do not work out the way we had hoped. I have always been someone who, when looking around me at people who had no work, or did not enjoy the work they had, or were not earning enough, etc, etc, always assumed that they were just not trying hard enough. That I should encourage them to just keep trying. I see now that this assumption was simply ignorance. I also see that often the best thing that I can offer others who are going through a hard time is my friendship and compassion.

I almost did not write a blog entry today. I didn't know what to say, and the idea of sharing how I was really feeling today seemed unwise. Who, I thought to myself, would want to read about more challenge in a world full of so much of it already? But you know what? I think we do need to start allowing ourselves to be more human. To be honest about the fact that we have times when we can go it alone, and times when we need the support and encouragement of friends and family. It is part of being human.

How do you show compassion for yourself when you are having a tough day? How do you treat people who cross your path who are obviously struggling? Can you treat yourself and everyone who crosses your path a greater degree of compassion? Give it a try over the next week. See if it changes your experience of life and relationships. I would love to hear your reflections if you care to share. Have a lovely, compassionate-filled Thursday, Friends.

Apples & giving thanks

2011-10-10T16:48:00.000-07:00

It has been a lovely weekend. Warm, sunny, clear blue skies. The perfect weekend to head out of town to Apple Hill to enjoy the apple harvest, and the endless list of apple-related foods and drinks that the creative apple-growers in this region have come up with. I have been very conscious this weekend that if I were in Canada I would have been sitting around a table enjoying a thanks-giving meal with my nearest and dearest friends, and the awareness that so many of my friends north of the border were gathered together celebrating made me more conscious of how grateful I am for all the amazing experiences and people in my life right now.

On Friday evening a group of friends gathered at the home of a couple who are quickly becoming two of my favourite people out here, Dionne and Todd. Their seven month old son Lucas is the most handsome man in my life at the moment, and I am blessed to get to spend social time with their family every week. This past Friday myself and a few other friends gathered at their home to enjoy devotions. The readings were chosen my another new friend who recently moved back to the US from Thailand. After devotions we ordered Thai food, and the men went out to pick up our feast. We filled our bellies with chicken curry noodles, steamed rice, coconut milk and seafood soup, and spicy apple salad, and sipped on sweet, creamy Thai iced tea. We shared stories of recent trips a few people had been on, watched a slide show of wedding photos from Todd and Dionne's gorgeous wedding. We shared exciting news and future plans and funny stories. We laughed. A lot. And we played Super Mario Brothers, which most of us had not seen since we were in elementary school -- blast from the past. When I finally collapsed into bed at close to 2am Saturday morning, I had a smile on my lips and joy filling my chest.

On Saturday afternoon I met up with a few of the same group for tea at a local coffee shop that has an outdoor patio. We sat in the sunshine and chatted and enjoyed the Fall afternoon. The breeze. The warmth of the Fall sun. Mugs of hot, creamy chai tea.

Saturday evening I had a lovely phone conversation with my soul sister Pascale, over in New Zealand. Our conversation was short and sweet, and reminded me yet again how vital it is to have friendships that not only inspire me and make me laugh at myself and at life, but that remind me the depth of connection that is possible between human beings when we connect not only intellectually and emotionally, but also at the level of the soul. That spiritual connection completely redefines relationships -- what they are, and what they can be-- and makes them so much more fulfilling and transformational.

Yesterday I was again surrounded by friends, this time out exploring the foothills and a region called Apple Hill -- an apple-producing region famous for its colourful fall foliage, great apple picking and hot apple cider in October; pumpkin picking and pumpkin pie in November; and Christmas trees in December. We meandered our way between farms, enjoying the sloping hills, the trees heavy with sweet, crunchy apples; the sun bright and warm. Along the way we enjoyed cups of hot apple cider; freshly made, hot apple cider doughnuts sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon; hot apple pie with vanilla ice cream, and apple cider milkshakes. On the way home we stopped at a charcuterie where I got myself an apple sausage, which was divine. It was a day of leisure and laughter. Of more stories. Of getting to know the people around me more deeply....and of very full, very happy bellies!

When I climbed into bed last night I felt tremendously grateful for the incredible community of friends that I am surrounded by. This year has been a hard one, but no matter what has been happening around me, I have always been surrounded by incredible friends -- friends that I have just met since arriving in California; friends that I have known for years and years who stay in touch by email and hand-written letters; and friends from Canada who have remained a joyful and supportive part of my life out here in California despite being so far away physically.

Today it is raining. Pouring, really. It has been raining and raining, all day long, and I am LOVING it! As you head into this new week, try to be conscious of all the incredible people that you share not only a physical/emotional/intellectual relationship with, but also a spiritual relationship. The people who remind you to be silly. The ones who turn up to eat Thai food with you on cold nights. The ones who beat you at video games for hours on end, but whose company you enjoy so much that you forget that you have lost every game you have played all night. The ones who give you the opportunity to take care of, love, and learn from their children. The ones who sit and pray with you. The ones who believe in you no matter what. The ones who invite you over for hot cups of tea. The ones you sat around a thanks giving table and enjoyed a delicious meal with (or will be doing so with some time soon!). The ones you enjoy hot apple pie and steaming cider with....I hope this week is full of good times with people whose company you love, and who love and appreciate you in return. Happy gratitude Monday, friends!

Pink roses & crunchy leaves

2011-10-06T00:42:00.000-07:00

When I woke up this morning, I could tell something was different. I had to be up early to give my mother a ride to the courthouse to do her jury duty, so I was up earlier than usual. When I got home I did not feel like starting work just yet. The rain had stopped, the sun had come out. The air had that nutty, earthy smell that it gets right after it has rained after many months of no rain at all. A cool breeze was blowing. The air was crisp as freshly picked Fall apples. I had a little over an hour before I had to head off to meet some girlfriends for a birthday brunch, so I grabbed my camera and headed out to enjoy the gorgeous Fall day.

Up until today it felt as though Fall was tentatively dipping her toes into the idea of making an entrance. But today she took full stage. There were leaves strewn across lawns, in all the gutters and along fences. As I wandered along the pavement I inhaled deeply. The aroma of sweet wood burning in someone's fireplace filled my lungs. Birds called from the highest branches of a redwood. Blossoms knocked from the branches of bushes lay strewn across the pavement like giant pink and white snowflakes. Even though it is fall, roses still cascaded down over brick walls. I love the contrast of roses in full bloom and leaves turning golden. It seems so unlikely. There are few places in the world where blossoms and dying leaves share visual space.

Up above, the Turkey Vultures were gliding in the blue sky.

I have mentioned this before, but Sacramento is known as the city of trees. It lives up to its name. The entire city is covered in trees. The area I live in is especially blessed with gorgeous, big, old trees.

The large number of old, giant trees means you have to watch where you park during storms (cars getting crushed by tree limbs is a regular occurrence here), but it also makes for incredibly good tree-climbing and beautiful light and foliage in the Fall. Like something out of a painting.

And of course, when you have that many trees, you also have squirrels. This little fella was checking me out. Or maybe he was posing. From beneath, the leaves looked like stained glass or as though they were burning and glowing from the light of the sun filtering down through them.

By the time I started for home, I had a huge grin on my face. I could tell it was going to be a beautiful day, and a gorgeous Fall. I made sure to crunch through some leaves on my way home. I love the sound and feeling of crunchy leaves beneath my feet.

I enjoyed brunch with friends late morning, and this evening I took part in a women's devotional on the theme of happiness. I shared my experience of sheer joy from my morning walk with the others. Fall is officially here. As I write this, I am listening to rain drumming on the roof shingles. I cannot wait to wake up tomorrow, bundle myself up, and head out to study the Baha'i writings with a friend of mine while we sip tea. What do you enjoy most about the Fall where you live?

Didn't even have to dance

2011-10-03T16:20:00.000-07:00

When I woke up this morning the sky was blue, as per usual. More of the same. a.k.a: B.O.R.I.N.G. I am ready to wear scarves again. Ready for hats as fashion statements rather than just avoidance of the intensely hot summer sun. I am ready for the sound of rain.

So you can imagine my immense pleasure this afternoon when the clouds started rolling in, and my absolute joy at the current state of affairs in the heavens -- a solid gray sky. Not ONE sliver of blue. My Canadian friends always told me that even the tiniest patch of blue was a sure sign that the sky would eventually clear, so surely the complete absence of blue from the palette of the sky today is a guarantee that there is no chance of the sun popping out and ruining a perfectly nice gray day. Right? Who knows. Maybe it will even start raining.

This past weekend I did yoga with over 250 fellow yogis at a local park to raise money for a number of great initiatives in eastern Africa. We did 108 sun salutations in a row, which took just about three hours, and managed to raise over $7,000. It feels great to know that a number of yoga and educational projects in Africa will be able to progress and grow as a result of our heading out on Saturday morning to practice yoga together. I also discovered new muscles that I never knew I had, which, in the long-run, once I am able to lift my arms again, and regain full use of my legs, will seem like a truly great experiential education lesson in human biology, I'm sure. :-)

Below is a shot of the crew that joined me out in the park on Saturday. Our mantra was ONENESS. SERVICE and LOVE. That we are all one, and have a mutual responsibility to each other as members of a single human race; that we are here to serve one another through deeds, not just words, and that love is the answer. The spirit of the day was deeply empowering, and there was a distinct feeling that we were all working together, supporting each other to do all 108 sun salutations, rather than each of us being on her or his mat practicing in isolation.

Aren't all the colours gorgeous? Unity in diversity in action!!

The wind has started blowing outside. More signs of the advancing Fall. This evening, after I get home from a meeting of the Local Spiritual Assembly (the local administrative body of the Baha'i community of Sacramento), I am looking forward to immersing myself back into my current novel: The Paris Wife, by Paula McLain. It is about the relationship between Earnest Hemingway and his first wife, and is very well written. The only thing that detracts from the story is my knowledge of the fact that this was, in fact, his first wife, and that it therefore cannot possibly have a happy ending; and that of course Hemingway eventually commits suicide in real life, so the relationship that lies at the heart of this novel, and one of its main characters, are both eventually going to die. Rather sad, really. But McLain has done an excellent job of stepping into the psyches of both main characters and seeing the world through their eyes, which is a great accomplishment -- to be able to bring the reader into dialogue with Hemingway the real human being rather than simply the brilliant author idol that most of us today see him as.

Reading The Paris Wife is helping me to realize how much more energy I need to be putting into my own creative writing if I ever want to succeed. Writing, as Paula McLain says through her characters, is an extremely lonely profession, but trying to make it less so by socializing too much, joining writing groups, or other types of activities that theoretically should reduce a writer's isolation, may accomplish this, but it also often undermines the quality and quantity of the work that the artist is creating. I have been out and about a bit too much lately, and while I am enjoying my social life immensely, I have been noticing that I am not accomplishing as much lately as I would like to be with my writing.

Tomorrow I do not have to go out. I am looking forward to an entire day devoted to writing. Maybe some rain. Maybe some wind. Definitely a hot cup of tea. Maybe a dunking biscuit. I am hoping for the rhythmic lulling of rain as I fall asleep. Happy nestling into Autumn Monday, friends!

Oooooh. Here comes the rain just as I am about to post this! And I didn't even have to do the rain dance!

Little hands & lettuce

2011-09-30T17:41:00.000-07:00

Today I reorganized my creative space a little. I cannot tell you how good it feels to have a space that is clean and more open feeling. Something about change outside (the trees, the breeze that is blowing through my open window as I write, and now the shift in my space, and the elimination of whole bunch of clutter) to invite other kinds of change. It feels really good to be in this space now. Instead of avoiding the room unless I have to go to bed, I find myself walking by the open door and being drawn in.

It is late Friday afternoon as I type this. Outside I can hear lawnmowers, traffic, and the sound of the wind in the trees. It is a blue, sunny day (yes, again), and the combination of cool breeze and sunny day is truly gorgeous. I have had the back door into the garden open all day, inviting the air through the house, and the sounds of the garden filter into the back hall and the kitchen.

In a couple of hours I will be heading out to a devotional gathering with friends. I am really looking forward to sitting and praying with friends -- and just letting go of everything the week has brought rushing in. I am also looking forward to walking over to the park after the devotional to enjoy the Italian film festival under the starry sky with a whole bunch of friends. It is going to be a great night!

Yesterday I was volunteering at Soil Born. We had a whole bunch of second graders come visit the farm on a field trip.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

They started the day by visiting the pig, the newly born calf (it was born Wednesday night at 8pm) and learning about chickens. Chickens create manure, but they are also great lawnmowers. They eat insects and grass, and fertilize the soil. The chicken coop is mobile, and only stays in any given place for couple of days before being moved to its next site. That way the weeds are kept down all over the farm, and the soil keeps getting richer. It is a great system. The only problem with the chickens seems to be keeping them alive. Hawks see the coop as a chicken buffet, and between them swooping down and grabbing the chicks and the coyotes that manage to get others, many have been lost this year to predators.

After some time with the animals the a couple of the kids got to harvest their first head of lettuce.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.


Add captionThis photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

It was a great group of kids, and their enthusiasm at getting to harvest food straight from the earth was infectious. We headed over to the youth garden after seeing the fully grown lettuce and split up into three groups.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

One group mixed soil and planted cover crop (to fix nitrogen in the soil); a second group made lettuce tacos filled with carrots and peppers from the garden (dipped in hummus), and a third group planted lettuce with me. I love planting with kids. Most of them are so excited to be out there and getting their hands in the soil. Our groups switched off, so we planted a lot of lettuce. The kids were mighty pleased with their work.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Before the kids climbed back onto the school bus we took a walk down to the river to cool off. Just like last week, most of the kids had never actually been to the river before. The river that runs right through the middle of the city they are growing up in. Their experience of growing up is so different from my own. I struggle to imagine being seven or eight years old and having so few opportunities to interact with the natural world. Makes me think of the book The Geography of Childhood: Why Children Need Wild Places, by Gary Nabhan and Stephen Trimble. Soil Born is indeed a blessing in these kids' lives. I think they had a good day. I don't know. What do you think?

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Awesome bunch of kids, eh?

When was the last time you were out on farmland experiencing where your food is grown? When was the last time you were out in the natural world period?

I hope you have an incredible weekend (and that you manage to get outside)! It is apple season -- perfect reason to go explore local farms in your area if you live in the northern hemisphere! I will be at Yoga Aid tomorrow -- a fundraiser for yoga projects in Africa. A large number of people will be congregating at one of the local parks to attempt to do 108 sun salutations in a row. I know. Hopefully I will be able to move my fingers for my post on Monday! I am volunteering to help organize the event as well as taking part, so I have to be there at 7.30am. No lazy Saturday morning for me!

I hope you have a superb weekend, friends! See you back here for the start of a new week!

My space

2011-09-28T13:25:00.000-07:00

I started realizing this morning that I have a morning ritual of sorts that helps ease me into my day instead of entering it in a rushed, stressed manner, my head already filled with must dos and how will I evers? I start my day in the kitchen with my prayer book, some of the Baha'i writings to help focus my day on the spiritual, and my journal to do my morning pages, and jot down my "to do" list, making sure that I include at least one thing that I love to do on my list.

This process lasts anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour, depending on what I have going on in my day. It is almost always accompanied by a hot cup of water with lemon juice, to get my body moving.

Once I am done in the kitchen, I usually go open all the blinds to let the light flood into the living room. We live in a place that has a lot of very beautiful light, and it just feels wrong to me to not open the house to it from every angle, even if it does make the house warmer by afternoon.

Once the house is full of light, I head out back into the garden. I am not sure why I do this, really. I think it is because I like to be out in nature first thing in the morning. Feel the sunshine on my skin. Hear the birds. Feel connected. As usual, the sky is blue again today:

The back garden is looking inviting today. Unfortunately I have a doctor's appointment soon, so I will not be here to enjoy it until later this afternoon. Doesn't this just make you want to make yourself a cool drink and settle in with a book?

Once I had stretched up towards that blue sky, I headed back into my room to get to work. My room has the least light of any room in the house. It feels like a bit of a cave in ways. But it is my place to create, and I cherish it.

I am settled in to work now. I am working on writing and editing poems for a collection to send off to a few different publications. Getting even five or six poems together sounds small, but it is amazing how much effort it takes to get myself focused these days. It does, however, feel really good to be working towards something that has a deadline in October. And to be writing and editing my own poetry is sublime also.

I was thinking today about the space that I live and create in, which is why I wandered around snapping shots of my spaces. What do your spaces look like? If you would like to share, please post links to your images below, or jot me an email. If you write a blog entry about your creative spaces, post a link to your blog in the comments section, below.

I hope you all have a beautiful Wednesday! Here is me, in my space, wishing you a superb day of creativity in yours!

Rain showers, tea, and back yard chickens

2011-09-26T20:53:00.000-07:00

The air has started hinting at a season change. I say hint because the forecast for the next few days is more of the 90s. But yesterday we actually had slightly cooler weather. Cool enough that a very light rain shower fell for not more than 15 minutes. I was sitting in a coffee shop downtown with one of my girlfriends sipping our "bowls of soul" (steamed soy milk with chamomile tea and honey) and catching up when she interrupted me to point at unusual amount of moisture falling from the sky outside. We sat and stared. It was more of a sprinkle than a rain shower, but I am learning to take whatever I can get in the way of precipitation out here. It felt like such a gift even though it was over before we made it back outside in our tank tops and sandals to drive home.

But seriously, it does feel like the season is shifting, and I am really looking forward to the Fall. For some rain showers, and days when I can get away with getting bundled up without looking utterly ridiculous. I never thought I would hear myself say that I looked forward to getting bundled up after dressing like Michelin Man in Canada for almost six years, but there you go. I have been finding myself missing snow lately also. Fortunately one of my best friends and her husband just moved to Newfoundland and bought a house there, so in the future, whenever I need a snow fix I can hop on a plane and go get enough of it to last me the rest of my life.

I went on a date this week with a man who has chickens in his back yard. I painted my toe nails specially for the occasion. He told me that I should watch my toes because his chickens would mistaken my crimson nails for berries and peck at them. New note to self: don't paint nails on first dates with men who raise poultry. Just when you think you've experienced it all....(side note: In case you are curious, I still have all of my toes, for which I am incredibly grateful!)

I am having some health issues right now that the doctors have not been able to figure out. They are stumped. The result is that I've had awful stomach aches for the last two weeks. This evening my mom came home and heated up some plain rice for supper. I am investigating with trying to find foods that I can eat without getting a stomach ache until we figure out what is happening. There is something about having one's mother prepare any kind of food for you when you are not feeling well that just makes the world feel SO much better. When I feel fine I would rather do the cooking, but when I am under the weather having my mom close is such a blessing. I made a mental note to include her in my gratitude Monday post. I am deeply grateful for my mother's tenderness when she has had a long and stressful day at the office and is feeling tired herself.

I have been taking Karen Walrond's Chookooloonks Pathfinder course, and am finding it is really helpful. I had fallen a bit behind the last few days so today was my catch up day. I made lists of things I love to do, and wrote out practical steps to take towards achieving my goals. I used colourful markers and drew inspiration maps. It is amazing to me how ideas are emerging out of the void -- some of which I have had before, but some of which I had never considered. Even better is her telling me to write out the small steps to get me where I want to be. Having deadlines is a BIG help! I am really excited to start taking the steps I have outlined over the next few weeks. Some of them I am already working on -- like attending poetry readings by well-known poets (I am going to hear Mary Oliver read in a couple of weeks....SO excited!), and working on a manuscript of poetry that I am going to start sending off to publishers to see if I can get a collection of poetry published. It is all really scary, but exciting at the same time. So much foreign territory -- so much unknown. I feel completely out of my comfort zone, and the fact that I am still moving forward despite this fact is really, really empowering! I am feeling grateful for Karen Walrond, her incredible photography and blog posts, and her courage to leave her high-paying corporate job to follow her heart and become so successful at highlighting all the beauty that exists in the world. This course rocks!

I am also feeling grateful for my girlfriends here in California -- the ones that go out for hot drinks with me to share our fears, hopes, dreams and moments of humour with each other. The ones who are incredible mothers (I am learning SO much from them all!). The ones who are training for half-marathons (Dionne, Julia, and Meredith, I'm talking to you!) and inspiring me to want to strive to be even fitter and stronger over the next year. The ones who go to totally girly movies with me. The ones who invite me out to breakfasts and dinners, who join me for Italian film festivals on the grass under the starry sky, who remind me to laugh at myself and not take life so seriously, and who take the time to sit and listen to all the details of first dates, and reflect my experiences back to me in a new light.

Tonight I should be chairing a meeting. I had the agenda all ready, and had studied all the documents that I was planning on having people read and discuss. I was really looking forward to it, but my stomach was not, so I am home resting instead, and my dear mother is very kindly filling in for me. Gratitude once again that she is close by to help out when I am under the weather.

Tomorrow morning, if I am up to it, I am having tea with another friend before I start the work day. I am looking forward to catching up with her, and to starting my day by sipping tea with a friend. I used to meet one of my closest friends from Canada for mid-morning tea at a tiny German bakery on Prince Edward Island, and it always made the day so much better. I have a good feeling about tomorrow already!

As the weather cools off, and you start enjoying hot cups of tea and coffee, and getting bundled up when you leave the house, what are you feeling grateful for? Try jotting down at least one thing before you fall asleep at night that you feel grateful for. Or at least think it. Thoughts of gratitude have such incredible power to transform the experience of this life I am finding. Have a great Monday night, and a superb Tuesday, friends! See you here Wednesday.

Day on the farm

2011-09-23T15:29:00.000-07:00

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reprinted without consent.

Yesterday I spent the morning on Soil Born Farm assisting with a field trip of 25 second graders. I love that age group. They are so inquisitive and pure-hearted--so full of joy and excitement for life. Before the kids arrived we chopped up carrots and peppers from the garden to use in lettuce wraps that we were going to have the kids dip in humus.

At the appointed time the yellow school bus rumbled down the driveway onto the farm, and the kids tumbled out. They were accompanied by their teacher and four chaperones, and the enthusiastic bus driver ended up joining us as well!

We started the day as we always do -- getting to know the kids and then having them come up with a list of safety agreements that we write up on a whiteboard while the kids sit in a semi-circle around us on hay bales. Once we had our agreements, we headed off for a tour of the farm, stopping to visit the pigs, and watch them roll in the mud to cool down, the chickens that were pecking around their mobile enclosure, the cows and the sheep. Once we had visited all the animals we headed over to the youth garden and divided up into two groups. Guy planted cover crop in small peat cups with half the group, and the other half came to learn about peppers with me, and to make carrot and pepper wraps that they got to eat sitting on tree stumps that we have sitting in a circle at the far end of the garden.

The kids saw a real baby rabbit that was jumping around the garden, and got to harvest some vegetables (some, for the first time ever). They also got to learn about all the different varieties of peppers and tomatoes we grow in the garden. I was incredibly impressed with their ability to remember all the names of the peppers by the time they got back on the school bus. For some of the kids this was also the first time they had eaten lettuce wraps. Watching kids taste fresh vegetables in the garden in which they were grown is something special. For a generation of kids most of whom have no idea where their food comes from, taking a field trip to a farm like Soil Born can be life-changing.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reprinted without consent

At the end of the day we walked the kids down to the river to learn about the importance of river water to successful farming and healthy eating. We had to cross the bike path on the way to the river, which has professional cyclists whooshing past every few minutes at very high speeds, so the kids got a lesson in crossing a bike path! Although most of these kids live with 30 minutes of the American River, many of them had never actually visited it before. Seeing so much water rushing past is a really exciting experience if you have never done it before. The kids wanted to put their hands in the cold water, find frogs hiding along the banks of the river, and chase lizards. Watching them reminded me once again how vital regular exposure to the natural world from a young age is in shaping a person's life and values. I am curious to see how the experience of visiting the farm as children influences these kids' eating habits in the future, and whether they nurture a strong relationship between their own children and the natural world.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reprinted without consent.

At the end of the day we discussed what everyone had enjoyed most about being on the farm. Even after only a little over three hours, the kids were making connections--between the farm animals and the fertile soil; between healthy soil and healthy crops; and between clean water and successful agriculture. I'd say it was a successful day, and though I felt exhausted from being out in the heat under the sun for three hours straight and keeping up with that many kids, I felt really excited to have been a part of their learning experience. And to have learned from them. I am looking forward to being back out on the farm with another great group of second graders next Thursday!

This week has gone by incredibly fast. I am amazed that it is already Friday afternoon. I am really looking forward to the weekend ahead--to yoga in the park tomorrow morning with a mystery guest teacher, to devotions with friends this evening, to catching up with two close friends who just got back from a trip to Italy and Paris, and to plenty of quality time with the pile of books that keeps getting taller next to my bed.

I hope you have a truly wonderful weekend, friends! See you on Monday!