not native fruit

Our anniversary is tomorrow, 39 years.  We had a Quaker certficate, a legal document in the commonwealth where we lived that didn't require a minister of any kind.  The idea was that the couple marry each other in the presence of 'God.'  So we were married at my parents' house, in the living room.  A 'humble abode' but much loved.  Nice to remember.

Here's what I've been reading lately:

“Yet ‘ordinary sympathy’ and compassion do exist.  When they are present, they seem like the most natural things in the world.  It may also explain why simple, kind-hearted people often display a goodness that outshines the pretensions of would-be saints.  At the same time, we seem to need more than ordinary goodness and kindness.  There is something in the human enterprise that is concerned with increasing consciousness.”  (p.22 Conscious Love, by Richard Smoley)

jack d. forbes, red blood

I'm finally getting around to reading jack d. forbes, university of california, davis, professor of native american studies.  I'm starting with one of his scholarly books, "The American Discovery of Europe" and also his only novel, "Red Blood."  I am really impressed by the novel.  It is written in the peripatetic motif popularized in the English tradition by Smolett, but found also in that sperm-seed of western literature, Don Quixote. So, nothing much happens, there is no suspensful 'plot,' but the protagonist, Jesse, travels around and meets different people of various native american backgrounds, reflects on what he sees, and gains insight into what it means to be native american, or part-native american, at this particular juncture in time. 

It seems to me he covers every possible permutation.

It's a great loss that Jack Forbes has recently died, in February 2011, because he was clearly a man of great insight with a basically gentle attitude toward differences, a lot of love, compassion and intelligence.  A jewel.  He was of Powhatan-Renape and Lenape background, which may mean he looked more brown or more white than the popular conception of what 'Native American' looks like.  He writes a LOT about all the various shades of color and subtleties of feature found in our population.  Young white readers, in particular, (from what I've seen in the comments on blogs that deal with these issues) often find this kind of writing 'racist,' but really, it's just revealing the racism that is already there in our society, but goes unacknowledged.  There's been a fairly large acknowledgement of the racism heir to the plantation-slavery of Africans prior to the Civil War, but there is less awareness of the widespread slavery prior to the rise of the South's cotton industry.  Slavery or indentured servitude were very common throughout the thirteen colonies and early states and involved white, black and red persons, who often united in bands of community and through marriage.  Their descendents, along with the descendants of many later immigrants, form the 'unentitled' masses of America today.  The lower classes and working classes. 

For people who fall into that latter category, 'Red Blood' is a helpful book.  For people like myself, with perhaps only a smidgen of native blood but a fairly wide streak of influence from the native forbears, it is comforting to see just where these influences come from, and that we have a sort of 'right' to our beliefs and our lifestyle.  We are not simply somehow defective white people or 'anti-social' or whatever label might have been applied to us in our difference.  We are not simply 'black' Americans, either, but that is someone else's story to tell, not mine. 

For myself, to look at me, I understand why no one would credit that I am part-native american, or part African, even though my dna tests show that, and my family (barely) acknowledged it, regarding it as something too precious to share abroad, only eliciting criticism, ridicule or negativity.  Rather, our truth was like a precious pearl kept secret in a special container deep inside our home.  Anyway, I'm not going to try to convince anybody - about myself, I mean.  It will be a fairly private thing for me, and an online post doesn't really change that.

I look forward to reading more Jack Forbes and I encourage you to read him too.

suze rotolo: memory lane

I read online a few weeks ago that Suze Rotolo had died about a month ago, age 67.  Of course, I recognized her famous photo on the 'The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan' album, and learned that she has written a memoir called 'A Freewheelin' Time.'  I picked it up at the library, and soon bought my own copy. 

What a trip down Memory Lane!  Not just the folk-music scene stuff - yes, that was somewhat meaningful to me, since I was an afficianado of the genre at the time, in the early sixties, before it had become 'popular' among my peers.  No!  What I found fascinating was just the story of her life - THAT was what I could really relate to.  Her socialist-oriented parents (a polite way of saying 'communist'), her humble working-class origins (in Queens), the fact that she initially took the subway to Greenwich Village to 'connect,' her problems at school (just like mine!), her life in the old 'bohemian' style, her work creating sets in off (and off-off)-Bwy theatre productions, her natural artistry which manifested in her clothing innovations and jewelry - I could relate to all of that, I suppose because I did all of that! - a few years after Suze, and in another city.  Maybe it was the times, but it wasn't what was happening in our community - I kind of had to go out and find it.  And yet, in another way, I guess I could say I was tuned in to my times.  Anyway, her story sure brought back memories for me!

Also, I shared her experience of being emotionally and sexually connected with a very unusual artist who initially seemed very much on his own, in need of a friend shall we say, but soon became 'attractive' to 'everyone' and who was intimately tied up with notoriety and 'fame' - ye gods, spare us that albatross - and who desired a very different lifestyle from what suited me.  We both had the courage to walk away from what wasn't working for us, to find our own lives, so I could relate to much of what she wrote about that too.

I've taken a look at some of her more recent book-art at Medialia Gallery - I think Suze Rotolo is my new patron saint!

busy, busy, busy

Life has been very busy lately with lots of work and also personal visits going on.  Not much time for blogging these days.  Hoping you are well, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

new year of the rabbit

Year of the Metal Rabbit, to be 'exact' (a 'nice' 'metallic' 'quality' - in fact, all of 'these words' are 'metal' words).  I picture the Metal Rabbit on a mountainside beneath the full moon.  The Rabbit in the Moon, the presence of minerals and metals in the mountain, the stars - a cold white light in the heavens - all of these are associations for Metal and for Rabbit.  Metal can be harsh, precise, exacting, but the Metal Rabbit is subtler and less heavy-handed than  Metal Tiger, more decorous, polite, and diplomatic.  I like my Rabbits to have a sense of humor about them, a certain warmth and personable quality, hence the slightly comic grin.  In the case of people born in the Year of the Rabbit, this friendliness is more an appearance than a reality.  They do care about others, at least theoretically, but they are intensely private and like a lot of alone-time.  They will be solicitous and do things for others but usually with a certain quality of reserve.  They'll create a nurturing pleasant atmosphere, which they offer to near and dear ones, yet need to enjoy on their own as well. 

So, how does my New Year begin?  Well, without my special friend, Risa, who passed away on January 22nd.  It was indeed very much expected.  One might even say she did very well in terms of lasting as long as she could.  She passed on with her values intact, and that is saying a helluva lot.  She was a magical person, and I would expect she will be missed.  But it must also be said that she left a legacy of positivity all around her, and I'm sure that will help her soul-survivors to continue in her foot-steps.  She taught the dance-steps, and now it's up to us to continue the dance, perhaps to improvise and embellish her steps.  I'm thinking especially of her fifteen year old son.

What else?  Working a lot, but enjoying it, so that's okay.  Gotta bring in those clams, but it can be fun at least some of the time. 

happy little christmas

...aka Ephiphany, Orthodox Christmas, and probably some other titles, including January 6th.

I managed finally to get out to see my dear friend Elizabeth on Tuesday and found her in very good spirits.  Her internal organs are all sound and so it is only the bone cancer that needs to be addressed.  There are amazing new treatments for the condition that rebuild bone, remove pain and restore mobility, so we have high hopes!

She looks like such a nice lady in the photo below, but in reality, up until just a few years ago, she climbed trees on her property to prune them, got up on the roof to clean it routinely, and gave the most amazing body-work treatments you ever had!  One very strong lady.

Independent too.  It's a privilege to know her.  I met her when Amma first came to Berkeley, and becoming her friend was one of the major stepping-stones in my feeling at home here.

 
Me, with our friend Leo, waiting for the shuttle bus and trying to keep warm on our way to one of Amma's programs in San Ramon in November.  One of the things I like about Amma's programs is that there's always a certain element of 'roughing it' - it's never an experience of pure comfort and luxury!  The November visit this year was exceptionally cold, so if it were to be put to a vote, I would vote to hold the November retreat and Devi Bhava in a hotel - thus eliminating the 'roughing it' element perhaps, but we would still have that during her summer visits.

In this photo, I can most definitely see how I'm aging.  It's okay, it's a natural part of life.  I don't take any hormone replacement because I am sensitive to estrogen - so it would not be a good idea.  I'm feeling healthy and that's the main thing, right?  Isn't our friend Leo a positive soul?  He is visiting from Mexico, and was great fun to host in our home.

vedanta

I haven't been on the website for the past month because we've been really busy. We had a wonderful friend staying with us from two weeks from San Miguel d'Allende in Mexico.  He lived up here in the Bay Area for about twenty years but decided to go home a few years ago.  Home happens to be a very beautiful, magical place, and we're glad for him, and also glad that he can come here to visit from time to time.  He plays guitar beautifully and gave me a lovely recording on CD that someone spontaneously did during a cafe gig in San Miguel, so while the recording is not perfect, it is indeed very spontaneous like everything else about Leo.

We also had a visit from our spiritual Beacon, Amma, which was enchanting and intense at the same time.  After her visit, I recalled that a number of years ago Amma told me that if I wanted to study something I should study Vedanta.  At the time I felt a lot of resistance to that suggestion and persuaded myself that I didn't really want to study anything.  (My original question to her had had to do with going for a Ph.D., mostly because I didn't know what else to do with myself, frankly.)  Well, long story short, I've managed to enroll myself in a Vedanta class, and getting back to the study - yes, I've 'studied' before, but in a desultory sort of way - so I'm making the real effort now.  The only trouble with the study of Vedanta is that it makes me feel so peaceful and content that I have little motivation to contribute to the blog.

In other news, a number of close friends of mine are seriously ill.  One elderly friend was diagnosed two weeks before Thanksgiving with end-stage metastasized bone cancer.  They're still trying to find the source, which will determine treatment and prognosis. She is just as 'live' and chipper as ever - this woman is a phenomenon!  And much loved by many, a sort of 'spiritual teacher' in her own right.  So, I've been involved in trying to make her life more comfortable, procuring a wheelchair and walker, (although these have since been replaced by her health-plan), and making arrangements to get help for her with shopping, meal prep, driving, etcetera. 

I think I mentioned that my friend in Idaho is on hospice, although she seems to be in what they call 'a plateau,' which means nothing seems to be progressing at the present time.  She enjoyed the Thanksgiving holiday, which makes me feel happy, and I'm hoping she'll have a good Christmas too. 

Then on Monday night of this week, another friend phoned to tell me the doctors think she has breast cancer, and so she is going to be undergoing further tests.  At the very least she has been also diagnosed with a degenerative bone disease, so one way or another she is not well.  You'd never know it to look at her, she's a little beauty and has a delightful personality.  Another one everyone loves. 

Another friend and co-worker of mine has been going through the end-stage with her father who died on Thanksgiving.  He had a brain injury and the treatment did not work to restore him, so they had a very intense month which ended with his death.  I substituted with her client for that month, so I was very busy with so much extra work. 

Then there are my various clients, two of whom are also in straits at the moment.  So, all in all, it's been a very busy time with many needs to be met.

pear-tree collage

 
 
Loren left a comment about images that reflect who we are, and I thought I would post this collage, which is based on a dream-image I later worked with using 'active imagination' during contemplative prayer.  I tried to draw the scene, but was not satisfied with the result, so I resorted to clip art to create this collage. The original dream image featured myself sitting on a bench beneath a heavily-laden pear tree, outside the gated, walled-garden of my home.  Sometimes I would sit alone on that bench, and at other times passers-by would sit down with me.  Sometimes we would talk, sometimes I would listen and at other times we might both just sit together in silence.

I think this may perhaps be a rather odd vocation, but it seems to be mine.  I've managed to translate my vocation into work (in different forms at different stages in my life: pastoral visitor, acupuncturist, elder companion), and using this image in active imagination I was even able to view a future event that was quite meaningful in my life.  Later, after I became initiated into the Sufi Order of the West in 1988, you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that my 'sufi name' is often written calligraphically in the form of a pear!

It seems to me that in our culture we are bombarded with images of certain kinds of people: businesspeople, sports people, music-culture people, celebrity stars, and to some extent political icons.  We fancy that we 'know about' such people thanks to their prominence in the media, but do we really?  It seems as if these are really the only choices of how to be.  But actually, there are all sorts of other kinds of people who rarely make an appearance in film, sit-coms, the news, or even in documentaries.  People who have vocations such as mine do not make a lot of money, as a general rule, and so we are probably not considered to be attractive subjects for the media.  There are a few exceptions, 'Babette's Feast,' the Danish film from the '80's, some of our films that feature western types living in solitude on remote ranches (can't think of any titles, just images from a few films), and I'm sure you could also name several more.

spiritual art appreciation

What child enjoys solitude?  Probably not many, and I can't say that I exactly enjoyed it, but the hours of solitude I experienced as a child led me to a vivid appreciation for 'reality' - a sort of heightened sense of wonder, a fascination with form, color, line, dimension and texture - all the elements necessary to mastery of the visual arts.  My mother felt conflicted about art.  She sent me for free art classes sponsored by the Philadelphia School system on Saturdays, but she literally drew the line at that.  When I went to high school, things like 'art school' (sic) had to stop, (even when my work was being featured by my teachers). The nuns would not allow an 'academic track' student to take art, etc, blah, blah, blah.  Anyway, I continued to dabble in the subject, taking an art history class in my freshman year (and only year) of college, and learning a few things about how to 'see' as an artist: perspective, etcetera.  I suppose, if I'd been a 'real artist' I would have felt compelled to create art anyway, and not just in the desultory way I went about it, everyone once in a while having a burst of expression, creating drawings for a calendar one year, 'illustrating' a 'novel' I'd written another year.  (All of these things were thrown away by my mother, because my work included sexual themes among the other more intellectual themes - I was interested in history and archaeology at the time.) 

But none of this is the point.  What I would like to say is that the real impetus behind my drive towards art, whether visual art or literary art, was a kind of Love.  I loved the forms, the colors, the lines, the textures, the surreal sense of the unreality of dimension.  I wanted to express this love by re-creating what I saw.  However, although I did indeed show early promise for being able to do that, I lacked the amount of practice necessary to achieve any kind of technical competence.

Instead, I find, when I look back over my life, that I have 'collected' examples of truth and beauty that satisfied my sense of artistic wonder.  Many of those examples collected over the years have disappeared.  At certain times, there was almost a glut of examples, so that I became lulled into thinking they'd always be there.  Now it is nearly impossible to find some of those images, at least not without paying substantially.  Interesting.  However, I do still have some pictures, passages I've copied from books, books of photography, etcetera.  I find it odd that I chose to collect rather than create, without really intending it consciously.

I understand some of the obstacles to my creativity.  For a long time, I felt that I just didn't have the right.  I didn't have the kind of background or education that others seemed to have, who seemed able to create at a level I could only aspire to.  Then, it always seemed as if I were just going to be playing catch-up.  Then, also, I channeled so much of my artistic, visionary impulse into prayer, spiritual reading, participation in the kind of imaginative spiritual groups that were popular in the 1970's.  Soon, things got really serious, and the representative of the diocese suggested I attend theology school to have a career as a 'lay-minister' in the catholic church, and I began to think more seriously about a career in spirituality and 'healing.'  I began to develop a different skill set. 

So, yes, I can see the evolution of my life and how I diverged from the path of artistry to which I had been originally attracted.  I'm wondering what my options are now, at this stage in my life (being sixty now).