War, and Peace

Today is the anniversary of death and destruction and deceit at Pearl Harbor. It goes on and on. Shouldn’t Shakespeare’s plays about these same issues in the time of Richard III and Henry VIII tell us this is How It Is? Shouldn’t any perusal of history, especially up close, tell us that this is the way mankind is? Still I think we have to say, though it is the same, still things now are better or more humanitarian than in the past. We are not putting heads on pikes outside the White House and not chaining retarded people in dungeons in Chicago, nor burning people in New England for believing differently than we do, anymore (tho of course we come close at times, and metaphorically still do some of the same.) And of course el Presidente is close to calling this a religious war. I wanted to write about Presence tonite; I’ve been thinking about it for days, but once again a bit of news has me incensed (Bill Moyers' article on The Rapture viewpoint.) Maybe we are approaching Armageddon - that is, the clashing of worlds, of world-views. Maybe this is a huge battle, but not the one they think. And maybe the battle IS on a spiritual level. The trouble is, it is always enacted physically, and there the death and destruction. Occasional glimpses of the future I see frighten me. Revolution, “Cleansing” by the Religious Right, After the Fall of Civilization. The "Mad Max" period of a frightening future. I reassure myself that sometimes the lessons Mankind has to learn can only come in this sort of testing, but always I fear for the innocent. It also scares me for the tests that will occur between family members or neighbors with different religious views. I know the horrors that have befallen women and children (and men) in Rwanda and many other countries...horrors beyond anything but a few victims in America have ever encountered. I know people (men AND women) are capable of behaving worse than beasts. It scares me. I work to maintain composure, and Faith.

Well, I will write about Presence. Everyone seems to talk about it these days: living in the " Now," living in the present moment. "The past is a memory, the future is a fantasy." And yet most people live in those two states incessantly. And so do I, for probably 75% of my non-working hours. Even when I'm walking the dogs I have to remember to pull my attention outward, if the wind on my face doesn't do it for me.

One place I find it easiest to remain in the present is when I'm working on jewelry - when this activity draws my attention to color and shape and my emerging skill - or in my garden, with its soil texture and small insect life and shiny red tomatoes and open golden roses. The quality of the objects in my home also can call my attention outward.....the glow of my friendly woodstove fire, the good wooden handles of my chopping knives, my handmade wooden cutting board with its rich walnut grain, and my own actions: chopping baby carrots finely, noticing the glossy green leaves and bright red stems of the chard also under my knife. Recognizing that these foods were raised naturally by someone who cares about the quality of the food (even when not from my own garden;) knowing that they are full of vitamins for my health......these awarenesses nourish me and warm my spirit, and keep my attention on the meal I'm preparing. My dishes - most individually chosen at one time or another, brightly colored - and the warmth of the water and the shiny soap bubbles make this also a meditative activity.

Objects on my windowsills speak back to me of my delight when I found them in stores, the woods, the beach....not that I think back to those moments, but that they mirror that pleasure back to me. I live in rooms in which I've chosen the color for the walls, the paintings on them, the cloth on my couch, the rug - well, now I'm talking more of the pleasure given back to you when you have made the room your own. And of course in my case, I built the house, chose the wood on the walls, remember the trees the wood came from, cut and stacked and planed and bleached it (in the early days,) and have lived with it through some changes for 23 years.

These things warm my heart, make me notice details - thus drawing my attention outward and keeping it there. As do the sounds, the smells of the forest outside my home. I think the times I have stayed present longest was squatting in my chicken yard, watching their little chicken social life.....watching my large many-colored rooster with his majestic tailfeathers as he cracked corn and clucked the baby chicks over to it, watching the "pecking order" carried out between the hens, their competition over a bug, or special bit of feed.....and at night, as I closed the door to the chickenhouse, listening to their sleepy murmuring to each other: "I'm here, are you?" "I'm here....."

But no chickens in the yard any longer; not since the mother bear came and knocked down my fence and ate them one after another. I was incensed, I hammered boards and added more wire, and put stakes in to hold the wire to the ground. I spoke to her in my head, called on the Spirit of Bear and felt I actually connected when the image came of a Kwakiutl woven bear-head. I told her, as I hammered, "I too am persistent and strong, and this is my flock!" challenging her to recognize our common desire to nurture and caretake, but she came back and knocked it all down with one blow and ate the rest of the chickens. So no chickens, and now no many-colored fertile eggs with their bright orange yolks.

I think a life which includes as many natural objects as is possible for the place you live will draw your attention outward, will allow you to notice and appreciate your surroundings, will keep you in the present moment, the "Now." "This is a gift - that's why they call it The Present."