Sukkot

Meditation for Sukkah

I can totally get behind a ritual to celebrate joy! In our war weary world, with so much suffering and pain within the human family, it's easy to put our attention to "being with" the difficult things and sidelining joy until something good happens. We're probably all guilty of this, to some extent. Sukkot suggests that good is there all the time; joy is there for the taking. If only we rely on G-d.

In the Jewish faith, Sukkot is the holiday of rejoicing. There is a link above for a sukkah meditation that sheds light on the meaningful process of sukkah sitting.

It was my pleasure last week to sit with my friend Debbie in her sukkah on the first day of Sukkot. This experience wasn't completely new to me. Although this time, I was focused on the spiritual lift: being in Love with joy. The experience was refreshing.

Debbie gave me reading material ahead of time at my request. I didn't want to enter this holy space without clear intention. So I enjoyed some basic research. I will say, though, that for a person of faith, although not Jewish, I felt the power of the discipline. Joy was magnified through the observance.

The sukkah represents G-d's protection of the ancestors as they traveled through the desert after the Exodus from Egypt. It is said that a miraculous cloud-covering shielded the people on their journey. The sukkah, a temporary dwelling made of wood, covered with branches, simulates a safe haven, reminding the faithful of G-d's kindness, a reaffirmation of G-d's trust. This holy hut is kept up for 7 days and nights. All meals are consumed in the space. It is regarded as home for this period. Debbie's sukkah was decked out with hanging fruits of all kinds, special familial objects and significant images upon which one could meditate.

Within a sukkah, there is the observance of the Four Kinds: citron, palm frond, myrtle twigs and willow twigs. Each day of Sukkot, a blessing is recited (Hallel) as the Four Kinds are waved in the six directions: up, down, forward, backward, right and left. The Four Kinds represent the various types and personalities that comprise the community of Israel, and in action the intrinsic unity of the people and the time of their joy!

As my friend did her recitation, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth, heel to toe, the speed of the Hebrew words seemed to transcend the moment. The ritual was both simple and rich: the personal action taken was the prayer, the words (some of them sung) were an other worldly music, somewhat like the hovering clouds of God's provision so long ago, bringing that incredible Love, the Great Protection, into real time. (I will say that my friend has a lovely voice, lending to the ethereal nature of the experience.)

This was not a performance, but a devotion. I was not just observing, but experiencing. The unity of friends through prayer is powerful, indeed.

As I mentioned, part of the sukkah decorations were photo images, laminated to withstand the weather. I took a photo of a photo of the Wailing Wall that hung near my seat. The result, a happy accident of sun glare on the plastic casing, letters and numbers bleeding through from the other side, is shown below. Eerie in a good way, I think. The prayers of so many, from pilgrimage after pilgrimage, seem a present energy. Almost an animation of spirit through the power of the sukkah Light.

My friend fixed a gorgeous lunch! We laughed and nibbled, talked about faith and friendship and G-d.
It was a perfectly delightful day, a meaningful day.

I had to stop back, after my evening obligations, to photograph the sukkah Light in the dark (grin). I just couldn't get enough of it. The space was glowing. Debbie had more friends there, sharing another meal, the unity of all visitors that day and from the ages, resonating in this temporary dwelling, the permanence of G-d's Love.

Anew!

London Coe, Owner & Buyer, Peace on Fifth, Dayton, OH

There is a peripheral pleasure in being inside my head.  I am an introvert and no one knows it, well, actually know you all do.  I like being in my own space seeking my own comfort.  Rarely do I pay attention to the workings and making of others unless or until those actions bring me direct discomfort. When those actions remove from me something that I have fought for, have earned, have inherited. Otherwise, I am quite at peace to move without language and just be.  Can you be like that, too?  Needing to be still and quiet?  

In an effort, strenuous as it can be, I wanted to start paying more attention to the world.  To move out of my head space and show off my muscles, my I-see-you-and-you-matter muscles.  So the top of the month I started to make notes about people and them with me and me with them.  The first week of September I noted some fantastic things happening to me. Since we share, really you are sharing nothing, it is I, wide open and vulnerable (do you see how grumpy I get with the sharing?  Still working on that.) This is what happened to me week 1 September 2013....

23 people not related to me told me "I love you"
12 people told me "I am proud of you"
13 people told me "Thank you" 
14 people said "I trust you"
1 person sent a letter saying "I believe in you and what you do"
3 people said "I need you"
10 people told me "You are powerful"
8 people told me "I can't wait to see you"
2 people gave me copies of my article in last Sunday's paper
8 people told me "I just wanted to say hello and shake your hand"
Called legendary (by an international mini-celebrity), a force of nature, lovely, sparkling, true inspiration, fascinating, community activist, philanthropist, wrong, difficult, unrelenting, aggressive, unfriendly, inflexible, exhausting to deal with and too much.

While there was less fun stuff, the good was so heavy that it wiped out, wiped away chunks of glutenous-ly sordid feedback. As my tally sheet started growing and diversifying of what was coming my way, I was tempted to be my typical self and dismiss, debase, reduce the value of what was being offered. Saying "Oh thanks, but no, no, YOU are great." or "Well it's really nothing" or whatever else I have been fond of saying. Instead, I said "Thank you", "That makes me feel good", "You have earned chocolate this that compliment." This week as I started to become more loving and welcoming, not just open to this ... honoring of my self/work/place in the world I just allowed me to except it. To breathe into it, to open my eyes and watch it, to smell it, to eat it, to embrace it.

As I work, actively to walk closer to the light part of my journey is the receiving of the sacrament of compassion. A holy and reciprocal sacrament. Dishing it out is great, but you/i/we/them/us will get as good as we give. The receiving is part of the dishing out! After this week, I sat still and accepted what came my way, I became more aware of the need to return the favor. To return " I love you"/ "I trust you"/ "I need you"/ "I believe in you"/ "You are powerful" etc.

So let's toast to reciprocity. Right now.

I return the favor in a nutshell:

I love you.
I need you.
I pray for you.
I trust you.
I believe you.
I will light a path when you want to come home.
I will sing your name when you are sad.
I am proud of you.
I am happy for you.
I am happy with you.
I need you to survive.
I forgive you.
I thank you.

One Thing

You know how some things just stick in your memory and you don't know why? Seemingly insignificant bits that pop into current time every now and again, oddly important in the new moment? This is God work in my vernacular ~ prayer fodder, footage for thought. (grin)

The clip below is one of those pop culture theology scenes of my earlier years. It resonates still.
Jack Palance has always been a favorite of mine. Have a look.



"One thing. You stick to that and everything else don't mean shit." The cowboy prophet.
I love, love, love that moment!

The character of Curly (Jack Palance) is a man of vision, someone who appears to have followed his calling dutifully. A shepherd of sorts who has strong opinions, but is well acquainted with choice. A man with a sense of humor and a stalwart faith. A man who dies doing what he loves and living what he knows to be true. For the mid-life-crisis fellows he models for: a saint.

One thing. Name it what you wish.

My opinion: we are all that One thing. Aspects of the Whole. Our separateness is our choice.
Our Oneness is a given.

Peace in Action

We stood out in the heat of the day, waiting for the performance. Dieudonne and his drummers were preparing to perform as part of the Dayton African American Cultural Festival.  I was there to watch, to gage audience reaction, to get a sense of numbers, to pay attention. My tasks were just beginning as outreach coordinator for the group. As I watched these men, roughly 4 years old to 55, families coming together to share the riches of a culture, I felt a sense of awe. The joy and camaraderie, the commitment, the mystical sense of awe they exude as they play: the power was there and shared!

At the break, I asked Donne about peace. The dances are celebratory, you know, like the honoring of a community birth or a ritual for young men coming of age. Yet so often, we had spoken of peace. I wondered what he meant. Perhaps the dances marked the end of war? I asked him.

He smiled knowingly. "Well, let me tell you, Jean."
I listened carefully.The answer was humbling. It took a minute to register the full impact. Simple and at some level, heart wrenching at another.

They call themselves the Royal Court Drummers, an extension of the traditional artists of Burundi. The performance of the Royal Drummers has been the same for centuries, techniques and traditions passed down from father to son. The rhythmic chants were said to extol the virtues of the Kingship, regarded as semi-divine. The King had been known to interpret the beating of the central drum into rules for the kingdom.

The drums were (and are) considered sacred. Each one is a hollowed out tree trunk covered with an animal skin. They were kept in sanctuaries, honored for their essential power and connection to the Divine. The Dayton drummers went through copious amounts of red tape to have drums sent to them from Burundi. They provide repairs and upkeep here.

The drums hold a particular order in performance. The central drum establishes a rhythm. Other drums play continuously, offering variations on the central theme. Yet other drums emulate the rhythm of the central drum, adding to the power of the sound. Members of the ensemble take turns playing the central drum: dancing, resting, playing other drums, all without interruption. Each piece, about 25 minutes in duration. There are 8 to 10 players. The dancers work intensely for the entire piece, even the very youngest ones. Inspiring.

The drums were often known as "dispensers of peace." The sacred anthems of the drums were established before the fall of the monarchy, before the massacre of Hutus, before politics, before genocide. The origins were joyful! The playing of these sacred objects was about fertility and regeneration, about celebrating the divine spark within all connected to the King and to each other.
This was the essence of peace within each person, within the community. If played at a funeral, the drums honored the dead - the peace that passes all understanding. Sacred always.

"That is why we play today," Dieudonne said. It's about reestablishing peace. "When we go back to Burundi," he continued, "we want to take the Light of Peace." And Light, they are.

Hearing stories about their war-torn homeland is devastatingly sad. Dieudonne was generous in sharing personal stories, horrific events that no person should have to endure. As I listened to him, i felt myself fall for a moment, into a sense of despair. Where is hope? How can any of us go on? Why such suffering? The answer came clear as I looked into Donne's eyes, as I watched the impassioned performance, as I remembered the words of these men in casual conversation, speaking about bringing their sons up in this tradition. The Divine came rushing in through their intentions, through their actions, like a balm for the soul. The symbol that these men share in this art form is restorative. Not religious, but central to the human soul, however one believes. It's Love. How does Love manifest? Peace, above all things. Peace.

John F. Kennedy said, "peace does not rest in charters and covenants alone. It lies in the hearts and minds of the people." The truth of this is revealed so beautifully for me in the Burundian culture. It shows the Charter for Compassion as the lively document it is meant to be. We all have an entry point. At first, the words were enough. Now the words lead me to see, to acknowledge and to. . .act.

Actions matter. Small to large and everything in between, including the ritual of art making (drumming or whatever suits you) to awaken your call to manifest Love, to make Peace.

Drum traditions in other cultures reflect this peace. The Native American culture is another prime example. Drum circles around the world signify a level of peace through a common "heartbeat" - through the action of music-making in community. It is all so real when we take it in as more than just another activity for the family to schedule, but a genuine effort to restore Love to the center of our hearts and communities. We can all build the capacity for peace, first in ourselves, then in others.

Thank you to my friends: Dieudonne, Everiste, Elvis, Hubert and their families.
Drums as dispensers of peace? Yep. That works.

Renewable Energy!

The world is big. At some level, unfathomable. Billions of people, billions of stars. Thousands of miles of land and sea. Beauty and destruction. Injury and healing. I could go on, as the world does.

Yet what fills me in this morning minute, a moment never to be lived again, though suitable for replication (grin): I feel like I can wrap my arms around the world through the beautiful people I have the good fortune of knowing. Some are relations, some close friends, some through the written word, others newly introduced. With all of them, the world is manageable. Change is palpable. Love is moving us closer together.

The human family ~ connected global energy sources: we are not impoverished. Our collective soul strength is rich and powerful! People are the most profitable energy source, if used wisely. From thoughts, notes, prayers, dreams, visions all the way to deeds, actions, missions and movements:  a broken world can be RE-membered ~ REnewed!! Imagine an Endless Power Source.

The land depends on us. The creatures of the land depend on us. And we depend on each other.
And Love!

Wrap your arms around the world through your people! Because, really, we belong to each other.

The Paradox of Race

The first day of the Healing History conference brought to light a very interesting and intriguing paradox. Many of the scholars who presented concluded that biologically there is no such thing as race. They noted that when we look at DNA, there is no qualifier or marker that identifies race. So here then is the paradox, while there is no such thing as race, racism does exist. 

Human beings have in fact constructed a concept of race which has led to a categorization and a hierarchical system that values some categories over others. These categories, in turn, have resulted in structures and systems that have favored some categories while dismissing others, giving rise to racism on a personal and institutional level.

One of the questions being posed at this conference is: how do we overcome, or as one scholar put it, “eliminate”, racism? Some of the participants suggest that we begin with our minds, in particular our unconscious bias, which is the lens through which we view the world and process information unconsciously. Unconscious bias is not about race but rather how we choose to process and categorize information that creates in-groups and out-groups. This process of assigning negative attributes to certain categories creates a sense of otherness which dehumanizes groups of people. Socially this “othering” creates systems and structures that support and sustain this social construction. The first step to combat this is to be aware that we all have unconscious bias. Next is to challenge stereotypes because each time we prove them to be false, we puncture little holes in them. It is hard to sustain stereotypes when we are in regular contact with those that we have “othered”.

The process of “othering” creates structures and systems to uphold and validate it. For this reason some participants suggested that to eliminate racism, we must pivot away from centering our discussions on race and in turn look to transform the dominant power structures that have been constructed based on the concept of race. They say this because to have a “post-racial” society does not automatically imply that racism does not exist. It is only when we address the underlying structures that were built based on the notion of racial hierarchy that we can truly eliminate racism.

As I am in this amazing conference and beginning to process everything, I think a problem as complex as this is beyond a simple “either/or” situation. If we are to truly realize our common humanity, it will be through holistically applying all means and all methods at our disposal. On an individual level, we have to closely examine how we view and relate to others. We must also take a critical look at the various forms of media we entertain to be sure they are not reinforcing, on an unconscious level, what we are striving to eradicate on a conscious level. However, while these measures can improve how we relate towards one another, we must also look at the structures that create health disparity, income gaps, and a 10 year difference in allostatic load (wear and tear on the body) based upon race. To learn more about current research on race and healthcare in the US, see the presentation given by David Williams of Harvard University’s School of Public Health

As we have the courage to apply the tools at our disposal at each crucial level, we can continue to chip away at the artificial barriers that keep us from equality and a just society.

Amaha Sellassie (CSP 2013) is a mediator in conflict transformation, trained by the US Institute of Peace, and is a facilitator for IofC’s longtime Dayton, OH, partner, the Dayton Dialogs on Race Relations.

Alchemy

Life is about gold-making, the creation of that which we treasure and spend with reckless abandon. Transformation at its finest.

I'm not referring to earnings or profit margins, or material things at all. No lottery winnings or rich, great-uncles passing; no windfalls or unearthed treasure chests.

My reference for gold would be light, contentment, shimmering auras and glistening psyches; to glow is to know a deeper harmony than jingling coins ~ a treasured memory, a reconciliation with a former foe, completion of a noble process.

Gold is bliss. Gold is love. Gold is peace. The things that take us out of our heavy, leaden lives, transforming us into twinkling, polished valuables. Gold is patience, trust, confidence, compassion. Gold is the protective casing for our ample souls, for our fragile faith, a cure for the plague of fear. So how do we access this most-valuable-of-elements? It's a paradox. That which we need can only be found in ourselves. It's already there. In fact, it comes standard with the human model.

It can be lonely in the mines, searching for personal wealth. It's small and dark, treacherous and dank. Some formations are easily revealed; others lay covered and quiet, barely distinguishable without precision tools. Don't expect to get anything accomplished on your regular time schedule. All bets are off when you're deep within. The process of alchemy transforms time as we know it. With our short attention spans, our need for immediate gratification,  it's a wonder we survive.

Not everyone finds their personal bounty. It's likely that many don't know it's there or where to search. Humans don't come with instruction manuals, after all; although body, mind and spirit, combined, provide a mighty navigation system ~ a golden key. The awareness of this human trifecta is all we need to begin the alchemical journey. I propose that our awareness is our bond with the Divine, the Source, the Creator, the One - by whatever name you call this Force, let it be the Guide, inside and outside yourself. This Investment will transform any old you into Gold!

Bee Power

To my fellow lovers of life and victors of the free world. I am a new Beekeeper, i am terrified about what has and is happening to our Bee populations. We will not survive without these sweet little innocent lovers. The chemicals being used on our lawns, and flowers and vegetables, are poison. Where there is a bloom with pollen, bees feed. If chemicals have been used, the bees return that poison back to the hive. They survive, not thrive, just survive thru summer and fall. Winter is a death sentence. Their immune systems collapse. They die. They die because we think clover and dandelions  are weeds. They are beautiful lovely flowers filled with amazing pollen. All a gift of God, that we really must not continue to take such advantage of.
~Peace and Love and Bee Power, Colleen
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Whatever you call the natural order of things: God/Goddess, Mother Nature, evolution and so forth, it can likely be agreed that it is a natural process. None of us came up with it! (grin). The nature of it, the source, the core, the central wisdom: it is a given in our cosmic mathematics. The life cycle of bees is just one proof for the human family to review.

I wonder so often: who are we to think that we have the better answers for the daily life of the natural world? This earth and its organic procedures were here way before humans.Truly, we are stewards of what we found upon arrival. The human ego, however, seems mighty determined to dominate, even when the evidence is clear: things were cool before we started tinkering. This is not to say that we don't have a contribution to make to our lives with nature. Innovative solutions abound, when a general respect for the earth and her inhabitants is honored. Compassionate understanding and intention can lead the way to miraculous results.

 Metaphorically speaking, how have we humans poisoned our brothers and sisters, cultivating toxic energies that are unknowingly consumed and taken back to family homes (hives) corrupting a natural process of human evolution? I'm just sayin'. (smile)
Caring for each other is primary stewardship: human ecology.Talk about a productive use of natural resources! Go exploring in yourself. Find the naturally-occuring, free source within yourself!! It is OUR natural process. I've named it Center Love. You choose your own name. But may I suggest living it as your main natural resource? Bee a good steward! (pun intended)

Center Love Evolution starts with each one of us!

Shalom, Jean
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Closing good news: Facebook post from my cousin Fearn last week:

Our empty hive received a swarm of honey bees today! This is the second year in a row this has happened. Welcome honey girls. may you be healthy and happy here. We love you!

~Fearn Lickfield

Apple Compassion

.

There is a baby apple on my baby tree! (Actually, there are two, one on each tree!)

[Baby apples forming on 1yr sapling]

 

This to me is a symbol of growing compassion. Why?

Well, I’m a little bit of an introvert, and although some days I receive energy from interacting with people, other days I absorb more energy from the quiet rustling of trees and
the tranquility of being alone in the grass.

I never tire of interacting with nature—even in the skin-drenching, cold, awakening rains of spring or the thick, burning heat of midsummer—because to me it is the manifestation of God and His creation.  I can be my comfortable self in nature and God will shine his sunny and windy and rainy love upon me in equal measure.  I still love people; sometimes I just need to love them from a distance.

 

[Gods Glory!]

So when I am striving to cultivate plants or simply exist respectfully in the midst of them, my purpose is twofold: 1. With every photograph of gorgeous plant I take  (oh so many!), I am expressing my appreciation and awe at the complexity of God’s design; And 2. I am exercising my muscles of compassion for my fellow humans. (Some days the workout seems harder than others!).

The way I see it, we are all connected. Not just people to people, but people to earth, and even generations to generations connect across time. By planting in, and investing in the landscapes around me, I am investing in not only present beatification and fresh summer veggies, but also future generations who will inherit whatever we leave behind.  We connect with the past and the future through nature, by experiencing the hard work that our ancestors have wrought, and by improving upon the conditions for our children. Isn’t that cool? Nature is such a universal element that all peoples can profit from it, and find a sense of the spiritual therein. So I say, enhancing nature enhances the spirit! 

And so, with these two humble sticks that are in fact Apple trees, I am growing my spirit and my compassion for the world at large.  Just as others may seek to change people’s lives when they serve others in teaching, nursing, I seek to change the outcome of humanity’s future by changing the landscape of the land!

I grafted these apple trees just last spring, so this is the first time I’m seeing them develop. This is only the beginning! I am not planting the apple trees for immediate joy--though I still receive weekly satisfaction watching more leaves, branches, and now tiny new apples emerge—but for the long-term satisfaction of my mother’s grandkids to enjoy. And maybe their kids!

But wait, you say you don’t have your own apple trees? No yard to put them in? (not even your mothers? Harness what you do have. Go ahead, pick the low-hanging fruits! You have the power of the sun, and the wind and the rain! Dry your clothes outside on a nice day.  Or if you’re feeling ambitious you make a solar oven! And after all that hard work, enjoy some tea, brewed in the sun! J We are fortunate in the Western World to have an abundance of water; yet it is still a precious resource to be guarded.  Collect rain water for your gardens, and consider using drip hoses around your plants—it uses less water AND delivers it more directly to where the plants need it most, in the roots.

And of course, whenever and wherever possible, plant things! Let them grow! Encourage green leaves to help the earth and heal people’s souls. (You can ask for help if your thumbs look a little blackish, there are plenty of growing resources out there, and garden friends to be made!)

And I bet, by the time my apple trees really get crankin’, I will be filled with the spirit of compassionate giving, and ready to turn all the energy from nature into energy with people!  Then I can share the fruits of my labor and nature’s compassion with my neighbor! I can’t wait!

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Chelsea Powell grew up in Dayton and enjoyed the experience of The Miami Valley School. She proceeded to study architecture and horticulture at U.C., helping to start a garden in downtown Cincinnati. She now continues her search for good design with various plants, people, and projects in Southern Ohio.

Love the neighbor!

Out of the blue of a beautiful evening, after a just ok day at work, toting an achy body from a weekend "trip"- into this poor-poor-me moment in time, comes my neighbor Eric.

He had noticed that my pile of yard debris - I should say PILES of yard debris - were adding up, growing taller, taking up more and more of my pretty yard. He had walked his dog by fairly often, so to note the life span of said pile. (smile) So on this cool June evening, with a truck borrowed from another neighbor to haul is own yard debris, Eric came over to rid me of mine. I had the front door open, screen door closed, so I could hear the truck pull in and sounds of an organized effort.

I went to the door to find this kind soul hugging bundle after bundle of tree branches, taking them from pile to pickup in short order. I walked out in bare feet to greet this action, deeply humbled by this random act of kindness. We chatted away as he continued. I was sort of stunned with appreciation. Finally, I thought to go inside, put on shoes and help, for heaven's sake. Soon enough, the job was done and off he went to the yard debris center in our community.

Action! It's about action.

Later, after running a few errands, I came home to find Eric walking toward my house, laughing that the yard center wouldn't take a couple of ply pieces. We laughed and talked some more. The bumper stickers on my car set several topics in motion: drums, drink, children, music and church. We even had some friends in common. The follow-through: idea to action, by this cool neighbor, changed the landscape of our neighborhood (not to mention the landscape of my landscape. )

The universal common ground in the human family is really so simple. Love each other. Treat each other the way you hope they'll treat you. Simple. And no question about it: actions speak louder than words!I'm grateful for Eric tonight and for the magnificent movement of the Spirit!

Mountain moment

Have you ever felt like the path you're following was cut out of rock for you? Like a magnificent  rock was sculpted, chiseled into open space, allowing you to slide through, like a ray of sunshine?
If not, wrap your imagination around this idea, as it pertains to you in the present moment. What if?

Because, really: what are we but a mirror image of stardust, billions and billions of us moving at a glacial pace in comparison, yet skipping in and around rocks, being shaped while we shape other glowing particles? Imagination is power. Your power. And you can move mountains.

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Survive or Thrive

Good Day, Compassionary Blog Readers. It feels like a long time since I have written. Just when I think "what in the world will I blog about" - Shazam! The universe provides an opportunity! 

Well, today a new family member (I have been married almost 2 years) was not so nice to me. You would of thought my skin was going to fall off! I cried, and ranted, and yes raved a bit. So, I got on my bike, I usually have to do something physical to try and make the crazy~brain go somewhere else ! I rode and rode. 

When I stopped, God said to my Heart, "You survive when its easy to be compassionate to folks that are agreeable. But - to thrive, try being compassionate to the folks who are NOT so nice. Love them. 

A sweet sense of peace washed over me. Thanks God. When I can be quiet and listen, I move a little closer to getting it! 

On another note, If I may brag, my awesome little sister did a TEDx Talk. If you have never been in Ted-Talk-Land, you are in for a real treat!  I am honored to introduce you to a sweet part of my Heart: Lil Sis, Kelly Callahan. I know you will love her! Peace. ~Colleen


Kelly Callahan, TEDxTalks, Atlanta

Folks & Orgs: Making it real!

Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant with the weak and wrong. Sometime in your life, you will have been all of these.

~Gautama Buddha


***

Hello, my compassionate friends. I had to flat out stop yesterday! I could achieve none of my ridiculous list of stuff on stuff. God has this awesome way of doing for me what I cannot do for myself. In that, I had to wave the white flag. I surrender! And give in. Soften, relax, give in: like its a bad-person-thing to take care of yourself. Wow. This can't just be a me thing. Let's be compassionate to ourselves. To love ourselves enough to give in. God has a lot in store for us, if we slow it WAY down in order to hear him. Busy hears busy. 

~Compassionate Colleen 

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I'll be 36 on Friday. All I want for my birthday is the courage to stand up for what is right, the skill to address issues that tear down our communities in a way that brings people together for a common cause, the common sense to listen and the faith to step outside of my comfort zone to start doing different and exciting things for ME whether I have someone to accompany me or not. 

~Katy Crosby, Facebook status 

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I write to combat feelings of helplessness, senselessness, soullessness.  Days of fear and 

insecurity. I sit down and feel the power grow through my fingers, up my arm, into my 

heart and head. It is even possible to be brave, to show courage, to express the unthinkable 

from time to time. If there is a path to freedom, to an active, meaningful life, I think it 

begins with one hour of prayer and one hour of writing every day. How could one go down 

to self-defeat with such a daily practice?

~Cynthia Gehrie,  Published, April 25, 1993, Voices of Cabrini

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In order to grow the Dayton region's economic and social capital, the Collaboratory is providing the Collaborative Infrastructure—the physical space, engagement tools and support system—for people from across the region to come together to imagine and act upon new possibilities for themselves, each other and the community. These new possibilities will involve citizen, government, business, institutional, organizational and philanthropic participants and will impact how we live, work, play and learn.

~Model organizational mission: The Collaboratory, Dayton OH, Peter Benkendorf

***

In early May 2013 we recorded/filmed the other artists at various locations around Dayton. We're now reviewing the recorded tracks, and I can't begin to tell you how excited we are about this project!  We filmed & recorded 10 very different artists in 3 days, who each added their artistic voices to "Where There is Love."  We had merely sent them the basic track and encouraged them to interpret it, and with the exception of a sketch of Rick Good's banjo treatment, we did not hear anybody's version before recording. As we heard each one for the first time, played along to Puzzle's basic track, layers of depth and meaning and the intention of this simple song were revealed. In the coming weeks, we'll be editing together performances from musicians who play salsa, reggae, blues, old time/country, jazz, spoken word, singer/songwriter music, a Native American drummer and drummers from Burundi. We've got additional singers and even some dancers.

Playing for Change Dayton has been recorded with great love and care, and the end product is going to clearly demonstrate the breadth and diversity of art and music in our great little town.

Sandy & Michael Bashaw
May 13, 2013

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Check out this link:

Louisville, KY - Compassionate City

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To build a community in which all animals are valued and family life is enhanced, through     relationships with pets.

Our Vision ~Humane Society of Greater Dayton

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Welcome to the House of Bread, a non-profit community kitchen which serves a hot, nutritious, lunchtime meal to anyone in need 7 days a week.

Everyone is welcome at the House of Bread. We believe in treating everyone who comes to us as our guest. Everyone is treated with respect and dignity, and no one is ever turned away. We are open all holidays, as we know everyone deserves to spend all holidays in a place where they feel welcomed.

From our founding over 26 years ago, we have stayed true to the core mission of preventing hunger. The lunchtime meal is prepared fresh daily by staff and volunteers working together. Lunch typically consists of meat, vegetables, bread, fresh fruit, salads and dessert. All meals are served in our dining room at 9 Orth Avenue.

The House of Bread offers many services to our guests, in addition to the lunchtime meal. We offer personal hygiene and warm wear items, and serve as a referral source for many social service agencies in the area. Help and hope are always on the menu at the House of Bread!

~House of Bread, Dayton, OH  Welcome Message

It's time!

Good Evening!

Truth is revealing. Sometimes those revelations are joyful ~ awe-inspiring. Other times, what is revealed, although not necessarily new information, comes to you in such a way that it shocks your system. That shock sends waves through the whole-of -you, right down to the core of you ~ where the truth is ~ and all is forever changed. As startling as this event might sound, it's particularly effective because it happens in the simplest of situations, in boring real time (smile). No special effects. No sensationalized "breaking news coverage."  But simple real human truth. I've just had one of these.

I am blessed by a friendship with Guy Jones, We met in 1992 here in Dayton, OH. I had just moved into town, taking a job with a local theatre company, running youth programming. One of the first projects chosen was a dramatic adaptation of the epic poem Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. My goal was theatre as education: honoring a rich tradition. My research took me to the Miami Valley Council for Native Americans. The president: Guy Jones. The partnership was remarkable! MVCNA members came out in support. What we all built together stays alive in memory ~ what we learned and how we shared it. For me, it was a mountaintop moment!

Jump ahead 21 years to a new project in Dayton. Guy and I have reconnected after numerous years. We just finished one project and are dreaming up new ones. In our lunch conversation this week, my wise friend started to talk about the building of experiences, one upon another, with the new generation. He said, " Things are changing. I can't put my finger on it. I just know it's time." Time for what, I thought. He continued. I paraphrase now. He spoke of how youth in high schools he had visited lately were very accepting of each other: race, sexual orientation and spirituality to name a few. They asked great questions and they listened to the answers. The way he spoke, I could tell he was referring to more than just obedience or a well-managed classroom.

Guy sat quietly, staring off into the distance, deep in thought. We went off on a tangent or two, laughed and ate our salads. Then he looked up and once again said, "It's time. "Say more about that," I asked.
He sat up straight in the chair, turned out crossed his leg and said, "well, you know, it's like, we might actually get to be part of the ball game."

Another silence.

All of a sudden, it hit me. What Guy was talking about was not an exciting upcoming project to get involved with, or a community group with interesting programs. He was not speaking of sports or "we" in terms of us or even his immediate family. What Guy was framing in that moment was society, race, class; respect, understanding, inclusion, quality of life. What he processed in his bones in that moment was the largest possible picture of movement forward: acceptance!

I will say, this moment felt so big and so emotional for me, only because I knew this man to be a mover of mind sets, living his life as an example, being a willing participant in living history. This man, in his simple statement, was admitting a vulnerability, a truth that so infects our world: bigotry, racism, classism and all the rest are gutting the sense of belonging in the human family. Honestly, in that moment, I felt the pain of the multitudes.

It is my Spirit-generated opinion (and by that I mean, from the core of me) that those of us with a vision for peace that starts with individuals, those of us with a hunger for justice, those of us with a commitment to education, for our common passions and our willingness to risk "for the ball game" ~ our heads/ hearts/ bodies must take action!!!

Get out there! Share your truth, live your compassion, model the ways of love, support those who have been in there fighting the good fight. Truly, there is no real human family unless all of us are counted as members. Otherwise, we are a scattered bunch, struggling to make our way in a world of disengagement or misengagement: a set of exclusive position holders that choose ego satisfaction over everything else. Our individual agendas over the common good. Compassion is not generated in this world.

Compassion is palpable in those moments with friends where the hurt is revealed, where the wound is part of the solution. Guy was heading into a high school the next day, where he had taught as part of a comparative religion course The seniors requested his presence for the day, so they could learn more about native traditions and spirituality, so they could feel part of a ball game that we might just call Love!

Thank you, Guy! You are my Brother. We reside in a universal family. May we continue to work, to love, to celebrate, to build, to instigate, to honor and to play ball! It's time!

Compassionate Colleen

Reflection

This past week, I took the opportunity to slow down and spend some long overdue time with my Mother . I actually enjoyed her company. We shared, we laughed, we praised the beauty in the day. I was not defensive or combative. I usually am with my Mom. You know, all of those useless, ridiculous resentments? 

Thank You God, for Grace in prayer. That allowed this daughter to be truly grateful, acting with a compassionate heart for my Mom. 

Happy Mothers Day Mom. 

Peace, Colleen

Mother: Holiest of Jobs!

Mother: Holiest of Jobs!

There are jobs and there are jobs. (smile) Some for pay, some for passion. Some with art, some with religion, some with education. . . fusing those together: Yes, please!!! (smile)

But without question, the most essential, the most moving, satisfying, exhausting, pride-inducing, Love-Fest, mission-of-a-job is being Mother. For me, nothing will ever be as significant! Nothing. The good news is, it's the job (gift) that keeps on giving. My children are at my spiritual core and always will  be. For me, being mother is to know love in the most primal sense. To hold another person inside me, delivering them into this earthly life - what an honor. To remember that MY Mom did the same thing, and her Mother before her...wow.

My Mom is the perfect fit to me and I to her (thanks be to God.) Oh sure, we clashed a time or two (hahaha). We have some remarkable differences. The differences, however, are far outweighed by the similarity of soul that comes from Divine connection to Mother to Daughter, to Daughter/Son and on and on. That same measure takes a family up: Mother, to Grandmother to Great Grandmother and upwards. Each of us, with a blessed line, a holy family story. [This goes for fathers, too. Today is my chance to wax on about the feminine.]

I remember each of my two childbirth experiences so clearly. Profound moments. Utterly vulnerable moments. Humbling. Love made visible. From those miraculous minutes in time to this very moment as I write: my Love for my children continues, as it always will, to rock my world.

Birth experiences shape us daily. Motherhood has a myriad of meanings to the process of giving life.  Being a mother does not require womb-carrying. In fact, many birth stories I know started differently than mine, but certainly no less Divine! Choosing motherhood, regardless of how it evolves, is accepting a change of life, a redirection of ego, a commitment to care. Perhaps motherhood actually chooses us. Perhaps it's a calling in the DNA of our Spirits, to be Mothers for others, to know birth in our own unique, holy ways. Here's a hearty "Well Done" to the collective MOM!

Art from Souls

"Spirit" - Carol McCarthy
 
What makes us happy?  Probably being seen for who we are. Who are you?  Your body? Your job?  Your clothes, your house, your car?  Spirit?  Everyone is spirit.  You don't have one, you ARE one.  Aspects of God:  Beauty, generosity, patience, intelligence, warmth, humor, speaking the truth in Love.

The other side of the coin represents separation from God.
Jealousy, ignorance, violence, impatience, judgement.  The engine that drives us is Love - that aspect of God in each one of us, coming through us to each other.

Say hello.  Quietly to yourself.  Quietly to God.  Do you hear that small voice responding? 
Take time to notice, to listen.  He is showing us his compassion and understanding. For when we're asleep/unconscious to Love, God wakes us up to his Presence.  ~Carol

 "Clarity" - Colleen Penquite

My most compassionate self, with all of my not-so-compassionate judgements, chooses today to keep all of my opinions to my self, to keep my mouth shut. I ask God to help me, just for today. I have struggled all week. What do I want,  what is making ME crazy! In a moment of clarity (by Gods Grace), I see.
I make me crazy. When I sit in me, that's all I see. When I can look to You, and ask You what I can do, how can I help YOU, then and only then do I move from all of my self- ish - ness! Whew! A tip. A blog to write, really helps. Peace!

 "One Today"- Richard Blanco
 
One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores, peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies. One light, waking up rooftops, under each one, a story told by our silent gestures moving behind windows.
My face, your face, millions of faces in morning's mirrors, each one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day: pencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights, fruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
begging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper—
bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
on our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives—
to teach geometry, or ring-up groceries as my mother did
for twenty years, so I could write this poem.
All of us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
the "I have a dream" we keep dreaming,
or the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won't explain
the empty desks of twenty children marked absent
today, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
breathing color into stained glass windows,
life into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
onto the steps of our museums and park benches
as mothers watch children slide into the day.

One ground. Our ground, rooting us to every stalk
of corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
and hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
in deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
digging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
as worn as my father's cutting sugarcane
so my brother and I could have books and shoes.
The dust of farms and deserts, cities and plains
mingled by one wind—our breath. Breathe. Hear it
through the day's gorgeous din of honking cabs,
buses launching down avenues, the symphony
of footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
the unexpected song bird on your clothes line.
Hear: squeaky playground swings, trains whistling,
or whispers across café tables, Hear: the doors we open
for each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
buon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días
in the language my mother taught me—in every language
spoken into one wind carrying our lives
without prejudice, as these words break from my lips.
One sky: since the Appalachians and Sierras claimed
their majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
their way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
weaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
for the boss on time, stitching another wound
or uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
or the last floor on the Freedom Tower
jutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.
One sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes
tired from work: some days guessing at the weather
of our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
that loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
who knew how to give, or forgiving a father
who couldn't give what you wanted.
We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always—home,
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country—all of us—
facing the stars
hope—a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it—together.

  [Note: This poem by Richard Blanco touched me so deeply, as spoken at the Presidential Inauguration. It brings the largest version of community together! What a gift, this poem.]