Church of the Open Porch

Today is my 52nd birthday, and I began it by doing two of my favorite things--drinking coffee and sitting on my front porch. In a matter of minutes I witnessed a crow trying to balance on the evergreen branch and a scene of two regular squirrels and one black squirrel fighting for position on a tree. Seems like things work the same way in their world--the black squirrel was aced out and pushed into the street.

These days I prefer to spend Sunday mornings on the porch rather than in the church pew. This is all part of my spiritual journey. Life began in the Lutheran church where I spent thirty years of my trek. I then began to question some of their practices and went on to a non-denominational church where I spent about ten years before once again my curious and questioning nature took over. All of these experiences were necessary in my journey, and I'm grateful for all the memories and lessons learned. However, at this point I don't miss the standard church experience and am very satisfied with seeing God in nature. I don't feel close to what I currently perceive as God in a building, but when I am in nature and still is when I feel enveloped by some thing larger than myself.

Having the freedom of religion that this country has should include the ability to choose to find spiritual fulfillment on your own front porch. We cannot know what is in another's heart; we only need to work on finding peace in our own.

Thought for the day: I am so absorbed in the wonder of earth and the life upon it that I cannot think of heaven and angels. Pearl S. Buck

It's A Miracle!

Today I sat on my front porch, drank coffee and watched the birds. These are the simple things I waited for in the depths of winter. Today the windows were open, the birds were singing, the grass is green, daffodils and tulips are blooming. All things that a short while ago seemed like an impossibility. So I guess Mother Nature is still on schedule and doing just fine.

Thought for the day: The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. Anais Nin

Losing Hope

No, I haven't actually lost hope. What we did lose was our sweet gentle spirited cat, Hope. She left us yesterday morning after having been a part of our lives for 18 years.

We got her as a kitten from Minnie Osterholt who lived on a farm near Nelson, MN where I grew up. My girls and I went to pick out a kitten, and the one we wanted kept running away. So we picked a black and white one that stayed put. We brought her home in one of Minnie's egg baskets. One of the first things Hope did was get her head stuck in a small hole on the back of our stove. I figured out how to get her out by taking one ear out at a time.

She was a very quiet cat; she never meowed. The only time she made alot of noise is when she went "sock hunting" and then she let out a loud primal sound. If she was outside and wanted to get in, she wouldn't make a sound; just look in the window until you noticed.

She loved to be touched and always purred. In fact, she purred up until her last moments. When she was taken to the vet this past winter, the staff tried to get her to stop purring so they could listen to her lungs.

We noticed over the past couple months that she wasn't acting quite herself, and these past two weeks she rapidly went downhill. She lost weight, ate less, changed her station from the chair to the couch. Her breathing was very labored this past week, and we checked on her frequently. Yesterday I looked at her and then went outside to do some chores and upon coming back in a few minutes later, she was gone. I held her for awhile, and then we placed her in the basement until our daughter, Olivia, could get home. She sewed a beautiful burial bag for Hope, and we placed her in the ground with some photos and our thoughts of her (along with a can of tuna provided by Olivia).

The loss didn't quite hit me until early this morning when I awoke to feel the vacuum in the house which was the emptiness of no longer having this gentle quiet spirit in our midst. She didn't say much, but she was always there simply watching our lives.

There is no plan to replace her; it wouldn't be possible to do so. We will just live with our sweet memories of a black and white furball that loved to purr.

Thought for the day: The only beautiful thing in the world whose beauty lasts forever is a pure, fair soul. Bram Stoker

One Step Ahead

As we near the middle of March, and the winds are gusting to 45 mph, I continue to stay one step ahead of depression. I say one step ahead because so far I haven't totally stopped functioning or taken permanently to my bed. There is the feeling, however, that if I took one misstep, I'd be over the edge of the cliff trying to crawl out of the pit.

Last night I went to bed at 7:30 and slept 12 hours. That is where I feel the most safe when my life comes to this point. There is no place like my bed snuggled under three blankets with the knowledge that all is well here. Today I have managed to get a few things done around the house; some moments I sit and stare ahead unable to get up and do the other chores that beckon me. There is also the feeling that I could begin weeping at any moment, but it never comes.

So maybe I'll just head for that safe place again and charge my inner strength so I am able to once again face what life has in store for me today.

Thought for the day: Keep breathing.......Sophie Tucker

The Sting of Winter

Snow is again falling on this bleak March morning. My soul is crying out and asking, will it ever end? I feel like a black hole opened up in December, and I have been trying to crawl out ever since. I find myself longing for the day when I can again sit on my front porch, feel the fresh breezes and hear the birds chirping. I'm wondering if the perennials will ever again burst forth from the now frozen ground. My hands want to grab clumps of dirt, and my feet are missing their connection to the earth.

Even though my rational mind tells me that in just a few short weeks, all this will come to pass, my soul doesn't believe it. It's like being in the throes of depression where rationality goes out the window.

The days are getting longer, and a couple of weeks from now we will again turn our clocks ahead, and we will begin to see glimmers of the hope of springtime. The question remains: will my rational mind impel me to savor every spring moment? Or will the routine of life again take over and cause me to miss what I am so longing for today? Time will tell.

Thought for the day: If we are not truly ourselves, truly in the present moment, we miss everything. Thich Naht Hahn

With New Eyes

An old photo album from my mother's side of the family occupied a spot on the shelf of my parents' home for as long as I can remember. It now has a home on my bookshelf. I have looked at that album numerous times throughout the years, but this week when I looked at the photos, it was as if I had new eyes.

The people seemed to come to life again, and I saw details that have always been there but previously escaped my attention. For the first time I noticed what they were wearing, saw the backgrounds, looked intently at faces and into their eyes. The looks on their faces seemed to indicate they felt those moments would last forever, but now almost 100 years have passed since those photos were taken. This made me realize that the photos we take today most likely hold the same look and just as these people are now long gone, so we will be someday. Yet we often live our days as if we believe our time will not come to an end. It's an odd human trait.

It also occurred to me that even though most of these photos were most likely taken between 1920 to 1950, they were very clear. Another amazing revelation was that these were poor rural folks and yet had access to a camera and the means to develop photographs. I also lamented the fact that I hadn't asked my mother more about the names and circumstances, and now it's too late.

My intention is to make scrapbooks of all these old photos so they can be enjoyed for years to come, and these people will not be forgotten.

Thought for the day: We do not remember days, we remember moments.....Cesare Pavese

Spa Day

My yoga teacher, Wanda, has been taking some massage classes. She mentioned that she needed to "practice" so a few of us willingly signed up. Then we decided it would be even more fun to have other events going on while people cycled through their massages. So this morning at my house we had an informal spa day.

My friends Sue and Pam did facials and mini pedicures while I did foot massages. We started at 9:00 a.m. and ended about 1:00 p.m. Of course, we had rolls, muffins, fruit, wassail, tea, coffee, etc. It made us all feel truly alive and refreshed; what a wonderful way to spend a winter day.

Thought for the day: May you live all the days of your life..Jonathan Swift