Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Advent*ure

...from the St. Labre Indian School newsletter...
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My favorite gift as a child was a songbook. I received one a year: Stephen Foster, Burl Ives, Chad Mitchell, 51 Songs You Like to Sing, opera arias, and Thomas Moore are among those I remember. In
one of these was The Indian Christmas Carol. Having a part-Apache paternal grandmother and an Irish maternal grandmother, it was natural that had a bent for blending Native American imagery with Christian. I wrote my first Christmas poem when I was 16 to go in a card and never stopped. Often there was a thought that brought to mind that blend. I think the reason St. Labre Indian School captures my imagination is the little children not discarding the Crow/Northern Cheyenne way while learning the Jesus way. In the Christian calendar, Advent, the season of the Coming has begun. The first candle of four has been lit all over the world. Coincidentally, I found a poem written in 1983. A sign! So here in The Treehouse, I begin my Advent journey. Walk with me!

...from The Indian Christmas Carol...

" Twas in the moon of wintertime When all the birds had fled,

That mighty GitchiManitou

Sent angel choirs instead;

Before their light the stars grew dim,


O children of the forest free, O sons O sons of Manitou,

The Holy Child of earth and heav'n

Is born today for you. Come kneel before the radiant boy,

Who brings you beauty, peace and joy."


Entreaty (1983)

"With our hearts quiet before God, amidst the world's anger, " he prays.

Head bowed, I think of the earliest hours of human history

and try to recapture the awe , the spaciousness, the hope.

"We are called to belong to Him.

Go out this week, and compile

a catalogue of good news;

turn away from the rocky ground

on which no seed will sprout."

How easily it seems I can forget this long view.

How easily I am ensnared in the

trivialization of beauty and goodness.

How often I have used the word "wonderful"

without remembering its companions:

Councillor, Prince of Peace.


Renewed by this prayer,

I attempt once again to bring myself

with a quiet heart before God.

Stay with me, small moment of meditation.

I am in need of thee.

...may the Great Spirit guide your advent and bring you peace...

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

"There Be Monsters"



Abraham Ortelius 1570
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"Armand Gamache was the explorer. He went ahead of the rest, into territory unknown and uncharted. He was drawn to the edge of things. To the places old mariners knew, and warned, 'Beyond here be Monsters.'"
--Louise Penny
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There was an interview on npr about the Grand Canyon and the artists who have painted it. I was particularly impressed with one who has lived with his wife and three children at the bottom of the canyon tending to the park's water supply for nigh on thirty years. What I really appreciated were the remarks about how modern art critics reject beauty. "They don't take a beautiful painting seriously." How sad that beauty is not serious. How differently the "Walk in beauty" Navajo prayer speaks to that!

With beauty before me I walk

With beauty behind me I walk

With beauty above me I walk

With beauty around me I walk

It has become beauty again

Today I will walk out, today everything negative will leave me

I will be as I was before, I will have a cool breeze over my body.

I will have a light body, I will be happy forever, nothing will hinder me.

I walk with beauty before me. I walk with beauty behind me.

I walk with beauty below me. I walk with beauty above me.

I walk with beauty around me. My words will be beautiful.

In beauty all day long may I walk.

Through the returning seasons, may I walk.

On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.

With dew about my feet, may I walk.

With beauty before me may I walk.

With beauty behind me may I walk.

With beauty below me may I walk.

With beauty above me may I walk.

With beauty all around me may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk.

My words will be beautiful.

It strikes me that the Grand Canyon artists are a courageous bunch, very like the explorers of old facing a cruel tide. But is it courage that makes an explorer? Is it curiosity? Perhaps it is transcending love. I am not a risk taker. You won't find me on ski slopes or high in the skies in a hot air balloon. However, I have definitely been an explorer. Places call me and I go, no questions asked. For me, setting out on an adventure, stepping onto unknown land, has no element of fear; it is all joy of living. Experience has taught me that danger is everywhere so whether or not I venture timidly or boldly, something can always happen. Consequently, my choice is Boo! to fear. The Grand Canyon artist is right. Choose Beauty. Choose Example. Phooey to the betrayers, the stab in the backers. Piffle to those who let cynicism reign, depravity rule, who claim a sophisticated superiority. Bah! to realists who unbalance the real world by forgetting the very deep seriousness of goodness. An explorer is one who lets his or her passion overwhelm fear. My mantra: Watch out, Monsters, here I come!

...may the blessings of true spirits be yours...

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

A Lucky Pearlies Day

I passed by a pumpkin in an entryway which, instead of the usual variations on a Jack o' Lantern face, had a perfectly rendered kanji. I wondered what the translation would be and if Halloween is celebrated in Japan in some fashion not having anything to do with All Souls. I was on the walking route to my new dentist. My childhood experiences with dentists have been thrown into the Pit of Non-Recollection. The first memory I have isn't until high school when braces were part of what was known as a coming of age. This involved several extractions. I prefer teeth pulled to teeth drilled and agree with a friend who compared drilling to the sound of jets landing on the Hong Kong runway. My best times were at the UNC Dental School in the '90s where I gave would-be dentists and technicians a lot of practice. Last week I went for an initial cleaning to a dentist in New York. I feared the worst because I hadn't been checked since 2003. "Seven years? I have patients who average every fifteen years." He seemed overjoyed at the condition of my teeth and enquired about where I had various procedures done. He praised no end the excellent UNC Dental School work and asked so many questions about Chapel Hill I suspected he might want to retire there. For example: "That's university town, isn't it? Beautiful campus? Did you go to basketball games? How about football games? Did you take a bus to get there?" Fortunately all these questions could be answered with a slight nod of the head. It's not considered polite to talk with a mouth full of toothpaste. He told me the history of my teeth such as, "Root canal through a crown, braces as a teen" but missed on one point. He said it didn't look as though I was big on sugar. That brought a laugh. It made me nostalgic thinking of rationing Milky Way bars with Marcia, and Marge Hamilton's deluxe Hershey brownies. As I was leaving, he mentioned almonds. I told him that I love nuts, too. He asked, "Any particular kind?" I said, "Yes. The ice cream topper kind!"

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...may the blessings of good news checkups be yours...

Smiles courtesy of St. Labre Indian School

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

"I Voted"

I liked the year when the small "I voted" stickers came along to be worn throughout the day as a reminder for others to get out to vote. I wasn't always pleased with the choices but I remembered my mother's stories of suffragettes. Having grown up in a family in which unconditional love was the norm, I couldn't fathom that women had been treated so chauvinistically, although I didn't know that word at the time. I am currently reading The Help and since the setting is one I'm familiar with (Jackson, Mississippi 1962) while I was at Louisiana State University (where I had gotten myself branded as an outside agitator), I am really enjoying the perceptive, humorous, heartbreaking, detailed nature of the book. Coincidentally, on the Sojourner's site, I read this very moving passage. I don't ordinarily put such a long segment on my posts but there wasn't anything I wanted to cut out of this one.


Voting in Honor and Solidarity

by Valerie Elverton Dixon 10-28-2010

banner-truth-and-civility

When my children were young, I took them with me to vote. Before we went into the polling place, I said to them, “We vote because somebody died so we could have the right to vote.” Now I think the reason we vote is because somebody lived so we could have the right to vote.

This year I will cast my vote in honor of Fannie Lou Hamer. Fannie Lou Hamerwas a hero of the civil rights movement. She was a sharecropper in Mississippi in 1962 when she attended a meeting on voter registration held at a local African-American church sponsored by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). After hearing the presentation, she knew she wanted to vote. She remembered the occasion: ”Whey they asked for those to raise their hands who’d go down to the courthouse the next day, I raised mine. Had it high up as I could get it. I guess if I’d had any sense I’d a-been a little scared, but what was the point of being scared? The only thing they could do to me was kill me and it seemed like they’d been trying to do that a little bit at a time ever since I could remember.”

Her decision had profound consequences for her and for her family. The plantation owner ordered her out of her house. The family that took her and her family in was targeted with gunshots in the night. She and others were taken to jail where she was beaten so badly that complications from that beating, along with breast cancer, took her life a few years later. Despite all this, she was a founder of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, and in 1964 challenged the credentials of the all white Mississippi delegation. They refused a compromise that would give the MFDP two seats. She said: ”We didn’t come for no two seats when all of us is tired.” Not only did Fannie Lou Hamer work for voting rights, but she wanted to see African-American history taught in schools; she worked with Dorothy Height and the National Council of Negro Women to start day care centers, and she was active in a Freedom Farm Land project. She traveled throughout the United States telling the story of the struggle for freedom, including speaking before Malcolm X’s organization. One of her more famous quotes is: ”I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.” But not only will I cast my vote in honor of Fannie Lou Hamer and her lifelong commitment to the struggle for human dignity, I will cast it in solidarity with men and women across the globe who do not have the privilege of going to the polls to help select the leaders of their countries. I will cast it in solidarity with this year’s Nobel Peace Prize Laureate, Liu Xiaobo, who sits in a Chinese prison. The Nobel committee said: ”Through the severe punishment meted out to him, Liu has become the foremost symbol of this wide-ranging struggle for human rights in China.” I will cast it in solidarity with Aung San Suu Kyi, 1991 Nobel Peace Prize Laureate, who is scheduled to be released from house arrest after Burma’s November 7 election. I will cast it in solidarity with the people of Zimbabwe, still suffering under the leadership of Robert Mugabe.

Our politics is often ugly to behold, but our right to vote is a sacred privilege and duty. Somebody lived and somebody died so we could have the privilege. And, it is our duty.

Dr. Valerie Elverton Dixon is an independent scholar who publishes lectures and essays at JustPeaceTheory.com. She received her Ph.D. in religion and society from Temple University and taught Christian ethics at United Theological Seminary and Andover Newton Theological School.



I vote as much to honor the past as to steer the future. I often hear, "What should we do when the choices seem equally disagreeable?" For example, in today's election, I had to choose between one candidate whose moral values are not mine but whose affiliation is, or another whose party I endlessly decry, or a third whom I like a lot but who can't possibly win. However, if I "made a statement" by voting for him, that's one more nail in the coffin for seeing my opinion count. Another statement would have been to not vote. I'm going to let you guess what I did! One thing for sure: I voted. I didn't want my mother following me around with a whole bunch of poetry.

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...may the blessings of thinking through what needs to be done and then doing it be yours...