Learning to Spin

About 30 years ago I participated in an Earthwatch Expedition on the little Shetland Island of Foula. The team of six volunteers and 3 scientists lived in an old stone hut and worked the long days tromping and climbing all over the island in pursuit of birds. There were Bonxies (Great skuas), Guillemots, Shags (Cormorants), Red-throated Divers (Eider Ducks), Puffins and many more. We observed, captured and released them and picked up after them, collecting the otoliths (ear bones) of fish in the bird vomit pellets. After dinner, our time was our own. I had seen a small handwritten notice in the airport about spinning lessons. I’d always wanted to learn to spin and so I called the number. It was arranged that I would walk the three mile length of the Island from the stone hut to Penny’s house where I took spinning lessons. I particularly remember the walk each evening as magical. The Island was totally safe with no predators, lots of sheep and amazing beauty. I’d set a pace that was brisk but not hurried. I’d stop and greet the startled looking sheep, watch the birds soaring overhead and delight in the yellow iris growing in the ponds where frogs croaked loudly. When I got to Penny’s house, she put me in front of a spinning wheel where in just two weeks, I’d spun enough wool to knit Bob a hat.

As I look back on this time, what I most remember is how totally alive and happy I felt. The exercise, the creative instruction, the natural beauty and the solitude filled me with great joy and peace. Now, I can say, freed from distractions, stress and fear, I was fully aware of the mystery of God’s presence, though I didn’t have those words at the time. I still spin wool almost daily.  I have learned to relax my body completely when I spin. In many ways, it’s like prayer. When I am spinning, if I remember to pay attention, I can still feel God’s presence.

Pancakes

This morning I made buttermilk pancakes for breakfast.  I wanted to use up the buttermilk pancake mix leftover from Christmas breakfasts and the buttermilk leftover from Arne making homemade waffles for Christmas morning.  As I made the pancakes, I was swamped with memories of making pancakes for our family on Saturday mornings long long ago.  I remember lots of activity in the mornings. With three growing boys there was always a buzz of activity:  soccer games or violin, tuba or string bass lessons to take the boys to.  Arne would watch cartoons on television.  They enthusiastically ate the treat of pancakes.  We’d always have special breakfasts on the weekends when there was more time.  All the boys would come into the kitchen and help me, setting the table or mixing the batter or pouring it into the pan and flipping the pancakes.  I even remember pancakes from my own childhood.  I did the same, coming into the kitchen to help mother (or in my memory it was more often my dad making the special breakfasts).  More often than pancakes, he’d make “Special Waffles” using a recipe he’d made up with lots of melted butter and beaten egg whites.  In those days, we had a tin of syrup on the table in the shape of a log cabin.  It was appropriately named Log Cabin Syrup.  Today, we only use maple syrup because that’s what the grandchildren like best.  It used to be a very rare commodity, available only in small bottles brought back from trips to New England.  But the pancakes remain the same.  Fluffy and delicious, they call forth sweet memories from a lifetime of eating pancakes

on Saturday mornings.

Excellence

I love excellence, how ever and where ever I find it.   This weekend, I was fortunate to experience excellence in many ways.  Sunday afternoon, I attended a performance of the Alexander String Quartet at the Crowden School.  They were excellent, playing with gorgeous perfection.  Each piece was a breathtaking example of this in different ways.  The Mozart String Quartet  (kv. 589) was played with amazing precision.  Throughout the whole piece, no instrument ever dominated.  The sound was uniformly even, beautiful, light and fast.  The Shostakovich 4th String Quartet was also excellent.  As the music swelled and swirled, flowed and wove in intricate melodies among the members of the group,  I was entranced, totally swept away with the beautiful music.  I hung, holding my breath, on the amazing long slow diminishing last note the cello played until it was silent and after a pause, the piece was finished.  The Brahms Piano Quintet in F minor called us to attention, over and over.  It was loud, melodic and completely excellent.  At church in the morning, the minister led the service in his usual excellent way.  There was beautiful language, in the welcome, invitations and prayers.  Of special note was his recitation from memory of Emily Dickinson’s poem “This World is not Conclusion.”  The hymn “Precious Lord Take My Hand” was Martin Luther King Jr.’s favorite hymn, an excellent touch on MLK Sunday.  Saturday, I went to the San Francisco Symphony and heard Emmanuel Ax play a Beethoven Piano Concerto.  His playing is more beautiful each time I hear him.  His touch, so light and fluid, makes the fast scales in the Cadenza seem like butter and the Rondo seem like melted chocolate (the smilies we came up with).  While I’ve named these amazingly performances, I wonder if excellence isn’t found in small as well in as large ways in our ordinary lives?  Bob’s new horseshoe creation, a”Celtic Knot” trivet is an excellent piece. It is perfectly made, useful and also beautiful.   Can something as small a truffle or a beautiful flower be excellent?  I wonder if something as big as a life can be called excellent?  What makes an excellent life?  Is excellence, like beauty, something in the eyes of the beholder?  Is a life fully enjoyed an excellent life?  Is a life well balanced between meaningful work and good relationships excellent?  Is a life of service an excellent life?  I wonder if being fully human, being true to oneself, experiencing life’s ups and downs, makes a life excellent?  Most of us aren’t famous artists, yet I think our lives can be excellent and beautiful in their own unique way.  It is good to remember that it is, in fact, an excellent miracle just to be alive.

Hidden Gems

Yesterday was a Docent Luncheon at the Botanical Garden.  Three times a year, the Docents put on a pot-luck lunch just for the volunteers to have a chance to socialize, enjoy delicious food and then enjoy learning something with a seminar speaker afterwards.  It’s fun to see so many people I know and have a chance to catch up with them.  The volunteers are a very interesting group of people, all very well educated, most had very interesting professional careers and all of us love plants and love to learn, the most important bond we all share.  I ended up sitting between two older (than me) docents I didn’t know at all.  As I conversed with the woman on my left probably in her late 80’s, she began to tell me about a tour she loved to give.  As she got into it, she described a California poppy in great detail and her face filled with light.  She glowed with love as she moved her hands to the shape of the flower and then to the shape of the seed pod.  It was truly beautiful.  I thought how wonderful it is to witness someone remembering something they love  Then I began a conversation with the elderly gentleman on my right, we discovered we both loved the UCC (my church denomination).  He attends a book discussion group every Sunday morning at a UCC church in Fremont.  This Sunday he’s leading a discussion on forgiveness.  Another hidden gem discovered in a casual conversation at luncheon.  Looking around the whole room was crackling with energetic conversation.  I wondered how many people were uncovering hidden gems as they conversed with new and old friends.  The Docent community is truly a treasure and I’m so happy to be a part of this community.

Vulnerability

Yesterday Bob and I joined the little church we’ve been attending since the summer.  It’s a lovely little church with great music and a wonderful minister.  We’re getting to know the people and we seem to have a lot in common with them.  So we’re happy.  Joining was painless.   The six of us joining had to go up in front of the congregation and answer together two questions.  The first was one about supporting the congregation and attending worship.  Easy.  The second was a bit more problematic.  It was “ Do you promise according to the grace given you, to grow in Christian faith, to be vulnerable and passionate in your praying as you seek to follow Jesus Christ and know God.”  Bob, ever the careful reader, had noticed the word vulnerable and found it a challenge. Maybe he crossed his fingers or mumbled his response.  I don’t know.  I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday.  Vulnerable is defined as “susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm” or “a person in need of special care, support or protection because of age, disability or risk of abuse or neglect.”  Some synonyms are defensiveness, susceptibility or powerlessness.  Antonyms are immunity, invincibility or protection.  Vulnerability is something to be avoided.  To be vulnerable isn’t a good thing in my book.  When I think of a vulnerable person,  I remember Papa, Bob’s father, when he lay in a nursing home after he had his big terrible stroke.  He couldn’t speak or move one side of his body.  I remember him cringing and looking afraid when a particular helper came in the room and we knew he’d been mistreated by this man.  Papa was vulnerable.  I have spent my life cultivating strength and power so as not to be vulnerable.  One of my greatest fears is that I might become vulnerable some day, like Papa, and become a burden to my loved ones.  Had I just promised in church to be vulnerable like this?  No, I think the promise referred to spiritual vulnerability specifically when praying.  Annie LaMott, the Marin County spiritual writer, famously said there are  really only two prayers:  Help and Thank You.  We see these prayers in every church service with the Time of Gratitude when we name out loud things we are grateful for.  It is really a time of prayer and the official Time of Prayer which really a time of prayer petitions.  Praying to the ineffable mystery that is God, I find it easier to imagine putting myself in a vulnerable position.  I remember, for example, when I was a pastor going into hospitals to be with parishioners in ghastly situations, I’d pray walking in to get myself and my wishes out of the way and just to be open and present to God.  In those situations, I felt vulnerable, certainly not in charge or wise enough or compassionate enough to know what to say or do.  I wanted help.  Maybe that is what we promised yesterday: to be open to God’s mystery when praying.   To do that when praying is a challenge because it goes against my fear of being vulnerable.  I just hope, as Albert Einstein said, God (or the Universe) is truly benevolent.

Overwhelmed

This morning I realized I am feeling overwhelmed with my jobs at my beloved Botanical Garden.  There has been a confluence of my many volunteer activities.  It’s too much.  In January I am scheduled to be at the Garden 16 out of 31 days.  This morning, as one of the propagators in the group said she couldn’t come, I realized my level of stress and tension was out of proportion.  What can I do to help lessen that?  I talked to myself like I was giving advice to another person.  I heard:  don’t go in today;  step back from taking on anything more;  practice saying No;  give yourself some space.  And further I heard:  remember a lesson from your teaching days— life’s activities come in waves.  Hang on during the current rush, it won’t always be like this.  Breathe deeply and do some things that nurture you.  So I’ve made some potato soup.  I have signed up for an Art Class.  I will go to the gym later today and hopefully the physical activity will help dissipate my tension.  I don’t want to burn out because I love the Garden.  Maybe I’ll figure out how to do less and delegate more.  Can I let go of worry too?  Too many tasks dampens my joy and I don’t want anything to do that.  Now, if I can just take my own good advice!

Happy New Year

Walking around the Island one last time with Erika and Bob this morning, it seemed everyone was saying “Happy New Year” to each other.   People are so friendly on the Island.  First, there were three little girls riding scooters, the kind with two wheels in front and one in the back, who greeted me.  As each one scooted by, she said “Happy New Year.”  The littlest one could only have been two or three.  It made me smile.  Good, since my New Year’s resolution is to smile more.  At my age, that it  is 2020 already is shocking.  The years seem to fly by, while the days and weeks seem to go by at a snail’s pace.  It’s a trick of time I don’t yet understand.  The two families with kids left around noon and flew out of John Wayne Airport in the early afternoon.  Erik tracked them with his flight radar App and we watched as their planes flew right overhead.   Our time here at the beach has been a time for everyone to do what they want.  Ryan has a garage full of toys for children and adults:  bicycles, scooters, paddle boards, kayaks and sand toys.  All of them were used.  For me though the best was just sitting in the warm sunshine on the porch and watching the boats go by and the people coming and going.  Each of us has different expectations and different rhythms.  Some special moments with the grandchildren I remember are: Elsa finding a sea creature and bringing it to me to identify (it was a little sponge); Erika holding my hand as we watched “Little Women”; watching Liam and Erik build LEGO cars so fast and seeing Sonja make a little business where she washed eyeglasses for 25 cents (reminding me of Lucy from Peanuts cartoons) so as she said “I’ll make BIG money and buy myself a souvenir.  It has been for me a real blessing to have this beautiful beach house and all of us here to enjoy it.  It makes me smile to share one of my favorite places on earth with my family.  I wonder what this new year will bring?  As it unfolds, we will see, day by day.  I hope to give energy to my better angels

and to smile more this year!  Happy New Year!!!!