Vision Quest

 "Once we realize that the nature of our existence is beyond thought and emotions, that it is incredibly vast and interconnected with all other beings, the separation and fear and hope all fall away. It is a tremendous relief."

Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo

First Sip

    
 

If you are trying to follow the way of Jesus, you and/ or your church may be making plans for Advent. One of those plans probably include lighting a candle of hope on November 30, the first Sunday of Advent. When I read this post this morning, I found  myself asking, "How do we live without hope? Won't that simply leave us even further adrift?"  Then I realized that this comment  is a nudge to let go of our little self-focused hopes that are too often just cravings. We yearn for satisfaction, but such satisfaction usually does not last very long. Our hope needs to be much bigger. We need a vision for humanity.   

I vaguely remembered Jetsunma Palmo's name so I went to the internet for more information. I was reminded that she was the subject of a book, Cave in the Snow, written by Vicki Mackenzie (published in
1998). A friend of mine recommended the book to me a few years ago. I read it and loved it. This morning I am thinking I should read it again. The book is the true story of Jetsunma Palmo choosing to live alone for twelve years in a remote and high cave in the Himalayas, and  her emergence from the cave with a vision to establish a women's convent in India. She then worked to bring that vision to fruition. That is the power of vision.

Yesterday I went downtown, and as I walked, I felt some dismay. I was seeing a lot of poverty, and I thought that what I was seeing was a lack of hope. And I may have been. However, today I think I was seeing more. I believe what I was witnessing was a lack of vision. Regardless of what is happening politically, we cannot surrender our dreams to those in power. They cannot dream for us; their hopes and visions are too limited. We are more.        

I now see Advent as a vision quest. We light candles that wait on our communal and personal altars. In that waiting there is God, who is also waiting - waiting again to be born in the caves of our minds and hearts to bring light into our world. That light is not for a select few. It is for all to see - and live.   

    

"Because of our God's deep compassion; 

the dawn from heaven will break upon us,

to give light to those who are sitting in darkness

and in the shadow of death, 

to guide us on the path of peace."      

Luke 1:76-79  ( Zechariah speaking to his newly born son, John. Perhaps he sang this prophecy; we really do not know.)   

  

        

   

image: San Leandro, March 2025

Food for Thought

 The following excerpt from Nan C. Merrill's rendition of Psalm 137 came to me this morning in an email from Friends of Silence. I am reminded that we all need to give some thought as to where, and with whom, we are dropping anchor.  The image of the anchor is believed to have had deep meaning for early Christians who were suffering persecution, and I found some lovely  images online. The word anchor is actually not mentioned in the Psalms or any part of the Hebrew scriptures, but does appear in the New Testament in Hebrews 6:19 and in the story of Paul's shipwreck in Acts. Nan C. Merrill never claimed that her renditions of the psalms were translations. However, I do at times like today, find inspiration in her work.     

As I was pondering all this, I decided to eat an energy bar. I am about to take a walk, and I do not believe that the few slices of apple that I ate earlier will sustain me for much  longer. While perusing the cupboard, I found a well-aged RX Bar which I ate. I just realized that on the label, there is a depiction of an ancient Christian image of an anchor.

  

Thusly fueled, I go forward, grateful that we are held.      

   

  

Hide not from Love, O friends,
sink not into the sea of despair,
the mire of hatred.
Awaken, O my heart, 

that I drown not in fear!

Too long have I sailed where'ere
the winds have blown!
Drop anchor!

 

~ Nan Merrill, Psalm 137 from PSALMS FOR PRAYING    

  

     

One Key, Many Doors

 In the dream Tyler and I are at a lovely hotel in San Diego. He is scheduled to attend a conference; I am along as the spouse. While the dream does not reveal what kind of conference Tyler is to attend, we know he has a friend George, who is attending a real estate conference in the same hotel. We have learned that George is perturbed. His complaint is that he bought a very expensive suit and tie, and rented a luxurious limousine for this event. Upon arrival, he realized such items are not needed. 

George visits our room and tells me that his wife, Joy, is not happy, and has decided to stay in their room all day and watch tv. I think to myself that surely they have come too far to such a beautiful place just to watch tv. Even though I do not know her, I suggest that she and I go to the hotel gym, which is reported to be very extensive.  He replies that he thought that was a great idea and that he would go talk to her. I decide to visit the restroom in the meantime. Despite our luxurious surroundings, the bathroom is the very small bathroom in the first house where my parents and I lived on the ranch. I find that odd, but not particularly concerning.

When I return to the main living area, I am surprised to see George and Joy standing there. We all hug. Tyler, who apparently had stepped out for a few minutes, joins us. There is much laughter.  I then realize that I actually had not met George and Joy until now, but the laughter and hugs makes me feel like I have known them for a long time.

 I also realized that George was able to access our room without us letting him in. I commented on that, and he casually responded, "All our keys open all doors." 

I woke this morning with a smile and a sense of expansiveness. I hear "In my Father's house are many dwelling places (John 14:2)."  

We have the key to go where we need to be. Regardless of our destination, we will always be in the vastness of God that can be found in our very own hearts.  

    

  

      

      

   

"I will lead you along fresh trails of adventure,

 revealing to you things you did not know."     

Jesus Calling, Sarah Young    

 

image:  an older photograph, mine. 

Wisdom of the Stones

 "When I look inside and see that I am nothing, that is wisdom. When I look outside and see that I am everything, that is love.” 

Sri Nisargadatta  (1897-1981)

 

The photograph was taken at the Hickison Petroglyphs on our journey home via Hwy 50 through Nevada.  A beautiful journey. This morning I am pondering that very small stone in the foreground. Even stones are on a journey, and it was a blessing to be with them for a short while. I have much to think about. 

       

 

    

   

image:  September 2025 

I Should Memorize This

 Just in case you, too, are struggling with the barrage of news articles, opinions, hyperbole, virus threats (computer and otherwise), and blatant untruths, just to name a few.  Remembering I am part of the plural helps. We are still being carried forward. We belong to the Whole. This birth, like so many, is painful. Let us breathe together. We have been giving birth for a long time.

"Freshness Comes from There"  

There is a way of passing away from the personal, 

a dying that makes one plural, no longer single...

When life is this dear, it means the source
is pulling us. Freshness comes from there.

We are given the gift of continuously dying
and being resurrected, ocean within ocean.
 
~ Rumi 

image: San Leandro, August 2025

Held

 I received the following post a few days ago, and I fell in love with the image of Mother Earth carrying " flowers and fruits, birds and butterflies, and many different animals" in her arms. I began to imagine her with a head of gorgeous hair that was filled with all this beautiful life, so full it overflowed all around her.  

Jesus, too, touched the earth, and knew her rhythms so well that he based some of his teachings on them. This is worth remembering. As I read this post I also thought of the attached photograph. I was surprised I could find it since it is from 2015. The gardens in San Leandro began changing during and after the drought, and of course, with good reason. Sometimes, however, I miss the overflowing abundance that began to disappear during that time. Our young landscaper who comes once a month to lend hand and expertise to our small front and back gardens told me this morning that she again senses some change in all the gardens she tends to. She feels the plant's responses are more subdued. She added, "I think the earth feels humanity's stress and concern with all that is going on."  I believe that as well. We are of the earth, and the earth is of us. There is no separation.  

"The earth has been there for a long time. She is mother to all of us. She knows everything. The Buddha asked the earth to be his witness by touching her with his hand when he had some doubt and fear before his awakening. The earth appeared to him as a beautiful mother. In her arms she carried flowers and fruit, birds and butterflies, and many different animals, and offered them to the Buddha. The Buddha’s doubts and fears instantly disappeared.

Whenever you feel unhappy, come to the earth and ask for her help. Touch her deeply, the way the Buddha did. Suddenly, you too will see the earth with all her flowers and fruit, trees and birds, animals and all the living beings that she has produced. All these things she offers to you. You have more opportunities to be happy than you ever thought. The earth shows her love to you and her patience. The earth is very patient. She sees you suffer, she helps you, and she protects you. When we die, she takes us back into her arms."

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

 As quoted in First Sip     

         

image; San Leandro, 2015

Fields

 This morning I woke from a dream where I am standing and watching two tall and lean young men playing what I am tempted to call volleyball. They are playing in a field of knee-high yellow grass. The ball is red. There is not a hint of competition between them. As they gently lob the ball back and forth, their movements are soft, even elegant. There is no rush, no leaps or spikes, no lunging after a missed ball. There are no missed balls. There is no extraneous movement whatsoever, only a gentle back and forth arcing movement. It is calming to watch the rise and fall of the red ball. I do not remember how the two young men are dressed, but the combination of the red of the ball and the yellow of the grass is  beautiful. I hear no conversation or laughter, but the scene feels very real and alive.   

I woke thinking of my yoga class, maybe because my mat is yellow. Before class begins, there is conversation and laughter as each of us position and unroll our mats, and settle in. I find comfort on my mat, and I think most of the class does on theirs. Our various mats remind me of rafts that carry us individually, but also collectively. Silence settles in and class begins. Our journeys are not identical, but for a while we travel together. I believe healing is real.       

     

Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water. 
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken. 
Although its light is wide and great, 
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide. 
The whole moon and the entire sky 
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass. 

~ Excerpt from "Original Face" by Dogen