I Am

A few days ago, I was revising the part of the blog that tells about me.  I said I was a retired social worker and a spiritual journeyer.  Later I thought, "I can define myself in many other ways:  wife, mother, grandmother and so forth.

This time of year we hear from scriptures, particularly the Prophets, many names for God:

Root of Jesse
King of David
    Rising sun
    King of the nations
    Immanuel

And those terms made so famous by Handel:

Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.
(Isaiah 9:5)

These arw only a few of the ways that God, Yahweh, the Holy One is defined.  Each one provides another facet of Who God is.  I would add several:

Mother, Spirit, Brother, Sister, Friend, Lover, Protector

And all summed up, I think, in I AM.  Remember - “tell them I AM sent you.”

Which description comes closest to how you know and relate to God, to Jesus?  Which one the most often?  Which ones, other times?  I most relate to God as Friend.  At times, God is my challenger; other times, my refuge, my strength, my counselor.

Since we are created in the image of God, I think it must also be a holy exercise to recognize and embrace OUR many names, too; our multiple roles and identities.

I Am: 

Child of God, Woman/Girl/Female, Daughter, Sister, Friend, Student, Wife, Lover, Mother, Grandmother, Creator, Listener, Observer, Learner, Teacher, Counselor,

Worshipper, Elder, Mildred/Millie/Mimi, Grammy             

    And the list could go on…

I think about the names that define me.  I consider this a holy exercise.  How do my names relate to those for God?  What is God calling me to in this season of Advent, in my life, as suggested in my various identities?  Are there some that need to be placed in the background so that others may flourish? Is there one that’s been hiding that I need to call forward and embrace?    I remember:  there is a season for everything, including our various roles.

I also think of how my various roles blend with others.  How we complement each other and work together.  How I respect our differences and our otherness.  How I listen.  How we, together in our corporate I amness create community.  How sometimes I clash with others and must work to respect them, to seek forgiveness and to forgive them - even those I must strongly disagree with or whose I amness seems really wrong to me.  I know that they all are made in the image of God.  We ALL are!

I'd love to have you share some of your own names; your I am...

And always, in all these ponderings, “I am because God is the great I AM!”

Happy Advent.

Pajamas

Good morning!

I love pajamas.  I mean, I really love pajamas.  I love them so much that, if I could, I would wear them all day, everyday.  I love them so much I actually do wear them all day some days and most of the day other days.  I’d love to have a collection of pj’s for every day of the month! Really!  I’d even settle for every day of the week!

In the picture above, I’m wearing my favorite pair. Can you tell that’s what I have on?  Do the roses give it away? They are silky and feel elegant. I’m wearing them with my pearls to celebrate Kamala Harris becoming the Vice President of the United States.  Quite an occasion. One that certainly deserved such elegance.  Right?

I can only wear these particular pajamas in the day time.  They are too warm to wear to bed. So maybe that makes them lounging pajamas.  Anyway, I feel a bit old Hollywood when I wear them.  I’ve worn them to Zoom meetings.

My next favorite pajamas are cotton with fun print capri bottoms and solid contrasting short sleeved tops.  I have two pair.  One has a white background  with pink cocktails; the other pair is turquoise with Eiffel Towers.  Both have pink tops.  They are old and now raggedy around the tie waists.  The tops are a bit stretched out.  They are NOT too hot to wear to bed and work in all seasons.  I add a soft, light hoody jacket (a slightly heavier one with fake fur around the hood in cooler weather) when I get up in the morning, thus they become a total outfit, fit for as long into the day as I choose to wear them. I’ll wear them until they completely fall off my body.  They are that comfortable. I don’t wear them to Zoom meetings.

This love affair with pajamas and wearing them all day began, I’m pretty sure, during the Time of Covid!  How much we learned from that time.  Coloring your hair, putting on makeup, wearing panty hose, getting all dressed up isn’t as as important as you seemed to make it in the past.  And it sure as heck is a lot less trouble and a lot more comfortable to stay in your pajamas all day.  I love the lessons from the Time of Covid.

What does this have to do with the season of Advent?  Shucks!  I’m trying to figure that out.  

Maybe it’s about keeping things simple and focusing on the truly important. Being comfortable with yourself, getting to know yourself in new ways, letting go of facades, learning to be more present to beauty and joy and the peace you find within.  Being more aware of and present to those closest to you.  Taking time to listen to good music, read your favorite kind of book, have a real conversation with that special person, be creative, get back in touch with that thing you use to love to do or always wanted to learn.  

Watching, waiting for the quiet voice that will always come.  

In your pajamas!

Quell Pen

This morning I received a gift during my time of meditation, a vision of a beautiful writing implement being placed in my hand, an exquisite quell pen.  I saw that the feather was a brilliant white, reaching out like the wings of an egret.  The writing tip was silver, ready to dip into the ink pot.   I held it as gently and with as much awe as if I were holding a precious jewel or a new born baby, maybe a baby bird or kitten.

This magical implement held the promise of something though of what I’m not quite sure.  Am I to take it as a call to begin writing again? To use my writing to bring hope and promise to others?  If this might be the message, I am giving it a try and we’ll see where it goes.

Yesterday was the beginning of Advent, the beginning of a new year in my faith tradition.  The calendar is fresh, the story of the unfolding year as yet to be recorded. We wait.  There is promise of coming change, of salvation for the world.  We cry Veni, Jesu!  Come Lord Jesus.  Come quickly. Dare we believe?  We’ve waited so long.  The promised one has not come quickly.  The world is so dark. How can we keep waiting and believing?

Look back to the times the Holy  has come to you in your ordinary past.  In times of pain and times of joy.  In darkness and in light.  In loss and in gift.  Hold these remembrances to your heart.  Veni, Jesu.

Now look forward while holding close these past times of fulfillment.  In the remembering you can embrace the promise of the new year ahead.  You can travel through Advent to Incarnation.  From birth to death.  From death to Resurrection and back to the New Year again.  Veni, Jesu.

So in this first week of Advent sing “Come thou long expected Jesus, light a candle, be a candle, recall the light in the darkness of the past and watch for the light coming to you in particular ways in the days ahead.  Maybe even in a vision of a Quell Pen.  And share with me your experiences. Veni, Jesu.

Late Night

I'm laying awake next to my sleeping  husband.   It is now very late night or maybe very early morning as it's past midnight.    I don't really like to lie awake like this.  But I also hate to let go of the day, perverse creature that I am.

First blog post in a year and a half.   Rereading old posts and they are damn good!  Should have kept going but discouraging when it seems few read it.  I have written in other ways over this time gap but not consistently enough.  I know I need to get back to it with some discipline.  I have a family history to write after all.

I'm writing this from my iPhone to see how it works.  I do so much more work on it than on computer.  PC is just so darned slow.  Need a new one!

Must go to sleep.

Writing from beautiful Gulf Shores, Alabama

Digging a Hole to China

I love to walk on the beach and every time it offers something

different.  One day recently was calm surf and a hole to China!  I

remembered a little girl digging and digging on the shore and

saying, "Daddy, I'm digging a hole all the way to China."  Those

days of my childhood were delightful, magical, safe, full of love

and possibility.

The hole on the beach that morning suggested that a child still tries to dig all the

way through to China.  Our children, every last one, need a calm ocean to be

able to dig a hole to China; a safe and secure place to imagine and dream.  Let's

all work to create that kind of world!

By Still Waters

I was frustrated with God.  I was ready to give God a good talking to.  I was at work on one of the days that my assignments were outside (back when I worked as a camp host in an RV Park) and, as I went about wiping off tables in the patio and sweeping the kitchen floor, my thoughts were a jumble of concerns. I started outlining them.  The psalmists have nothing on me when it comes to complaining to God.  The concerns were interfering with my work, no Brother Lawrence me today. (Brother Lawrence is that monk whose little book, "The Practice of the Presence of God", talks about offering your most menial tasks in service to God.)  Though I tried, it wasn't working.  I decided to go sit down in the swing by the river and really concentrate on telling God what for.  I put away my rag and my broom, collected my coffee mug and phone and headed over to the swing.  Once a sat down, I looked out at the view, preparing to lay out my case.  Instead, the calm streams of water before me seemed to enter my entire being.  I felt peace flow over me; my thoughts seemed to float away in the water ripples.  I could not even bring to mind all the things that had been worrying me a short time before.  I guess the psalmist is right that "He will lead you by still waters".  I did not consciously try to imbibe the peace of the river. I did not seek it.   It fell on me and filled me without my asking, clearly an action beyond me.  It was magical and I can only explain this as completely God's grace overflowing.  The other amazing thing that happened shortly after this moment was an answer to prayer for one of the things I had wanted to complain to God about.  So God seemed to be saying as I was gifted with this blessed peace:  "Quit being anxious about so many things, My grace is sufficient".

I will get angry, anxious and frustrated with God again.  I wish I thought I wouldn't; that I could totally "let go and let God", but I know that won't be the case.  I do know that I can return at those times to that place of still waters, experience the release and peace for a few moments and keep on keeping on learning this total trust thing!  That's good news!

Re-Creation: Hope in the Time of Devastation

Re-Creation

The Story of a Mountain

Long, long ago a high and majestic mountain was created.  She stood tall like a royal princess above the surrounding hills and looked south and north to two brother mountains.  Upon her slopes grew soaring pines, forever green, that sang with the wind. At her feet nestled a sacred lake; from her, streams and rivers flowed to unknown destinations.  Flowers and birds and beasts grew and flourished in her shadow.  Many came to honor the princess mountain.  The earliest people fished in her streams and lakes and hunted in her forests.  They floated down the rivers in their canoes to trade with other peoples.  They named her Fire Mountain because she often smoked and spit fire. They created stories about her formation and energy. 

As the years passed, more people came.  They explored her slopes.  They climbed to her peak and skied across her trails.  They pitched tents at her feet, fished her waters and hunted her hills.  They built camps and lodges and homes around the sacred lake.  Young men and women made annual treks to the mountain to have fun at the camps.  Families returned generation after generation--grandfathers, fathers, sons; grandmothers, mothers, daughters--passing on the stories one to another, the secrets and lore of the hunt, the fishing, the wilderness.  They came to recreate at the foot of the gracious peak; to rejuvenate from the business of their lives in other places; to re-create themselves in the beauty of creation.  They, too, honored her. 

One day, all of this came to a crashing halt.  Fire Mountain blew up.  She exploded in a great conflagration and spewed her smoke and ash high into the sky and all across the landscape.  It seemed the princess had spoken her rage to her brother mountains to the north and to the south in one ultimate eruption.  When she quieted down, she was no longer so tall and majestic.  Her peak was gone.  Her whole side was gone. She was bare. 

The mystical lake disappeared.  The forest was laid bare, the trees horizontal skeletons from the blast.  Ash covered the flowers and bushes and all the land for miles and miles.  Gone the lodges, gone the camps, gone the homes for recreation.  Where were the fish and the frogs that swam her waters?  What happened to the elk and deer that roamed her meadows and grazing land?  What about the birds that sang in her trees and soared on the vernal of her slopes?  Death and destruction all around.  No living thing visible.  Like the aftermath of an atomic bomb, the scene was total devastation.  All was gone.  Silence ruled the land.  The mountain still stood but no longer so tall, a great gulp in her side, still steaming and spitting at times but in a hushed voice.

It seemed there would be no more annual treks to the foot of the great mountain.  No more telling of how it was when grandmother was a girl, grandpa a boy.  No more teaching in this place of how to sight the gun, or cast the perfect fly or follow the trail through the trees.   All of this seemed to have come to an end.

But then, amazingly, ever so slowly, a surprising thing started to happen. A green shoot pushed up next to the skeleton tree.  A flower bloomed. A seed from a pine cone, burst open in the heat, began to sprout.  From under the ash, the lake perkled through.  A raccoon foraged among the fallen logs.  Eagle soared on the vernals.  Birds chirped from the skeletal branches.  Ectoplasms began to generate and create oxygen in the mystical lake and the fish and frogs returned to swim.  Deer and elk appeared in the meadows.  A new lake was formed, bright and sparkling.  The rivers ran clean.  Life was returning and growing.  Slowly the people returned as well, not to build lodges and houses this time but to once again camp and hike and ski along Fire Mountain’s trails; to fish and hunt.  Now, telling the story of the great explosion intermixes with the memories of how it used to be, building new memories, one generation once again telling the next.

The mountain and her environment have regenerated, not exactly as before, but in a new way.  Re-creation is happening, old into new, with renewed energy and life and purpose.  Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, the sacred cycle of life continues.  And, as if she knew that this was the way of things, the princess mountain continues to stand proud and majestic as she has always done, her face changed and renewed, surveying her land and all who come. 

A story of Mt. St. Helens, and for all times of natural devastation, to bring hope that regeneration and recreation will happen in the great cycle of life.

All rights reserved; Mildred P. Ericson; 10/31/12

UNSETTLING

October 19, 2012

I had a set of plans for the day and it did not include working. But one of the other workers called in and now I must change my plans.  This is unsettling to me.  Not so much because I must be in the office this afternoon and early evening, but because of the inconsideration on the part of the staff who called in, and has done so quite regularly.  I'm wondering what this staff would have done if she had been told others had plans that could not be changed and couldn't cover for her?

People's failure to consider others is disturbing to me.  Is it selfishness, immaturity, lack of insight into how their behavior impacts others, or possibly all of these, depending on the person and circumstance?  It is something that I certainly must monitor in myself, for I am sure I have been guilty of actions that prove to be inconsiderate.  Most often it has not been my intention, but I'm certain my focus on my own needs or viewpoint has led to such occasions.  This is unavoidable, I think, if we are part of the human race!  The best I can do is to try and be aware, consider how my actions and decision might impact others and be quick to rectify it, apologize, work it out as best as possible when it occurs.

Today I read something on Facebook entitled "Cowboy Wisdom", posted by the folks at Texas Hill Country.  One of the pieces of wisdom said, "The easiest way to eat crow is while it's still warm.  The colder it gets, the harder it is to swaller".  Guess that's what I'm talking about when I find myself "unsettling" others.

And please let me know if I unsettle you!

Millie

FROM SHORE TO SHORE: bringing you up to date

October 18, 2012

It has been a long time since I wrote anything here, over a year.  Partly this has been due to difficulty with internet connections as we have traveled around the country and from RV park to RV park.  It has been a little over two years since we started out on our marvelous adventure and we love it just as much now as when we started.

 We have been from the shores of the Great Lakes

to the Pacific Coast;


from the mountains of Colorado






to the beaches of the Central Gulf Coast.

We have been in the desert,

         at the shore,

on the lakefronts and among the woodlands 

of this amazing country of ours.

We've spent time in the Heartland of America and watched the promise of Spring

turn into a draught-burned summer.






A glorious transition to Fall greeted us as we returned to the place from       which we started in Central Michigan.





Now we are back at the beach where the breezes are gentle and the sea oats wave hello.

The contrasts and variations are spectacular.  How can I pick a favorite?  Each ecosystem, each environment is wonderful in its own unique right.  I have loved them all.  What a glorious creation it is!

We have met such wonderful people along the way.  It seems we have built a collection of friends as we've traveled instead of a collection of stuff.  Isn't that wonderful?  So much more delightful and lasting!  I complained above about the variables of internet connection, yet this wonderful tool has allowed us to stay in touch with many of the wonderful folks we have met, as well as with family.  I know that I could not have enjoyed this journey as much if these connections had not been available.  Skype, instant messaging, Facebook, Instagram, my Iphone have all been wonderful instruments in making and sustaining relationships.  I applaud them! I am deeply grateful for them.  How amazing is our world of communication!

I have begun to write more, though you wouldn't know it from this blog!  I'm working on a family history, have dabbled in some poetry and started a couple of ideas that might flesh out into a short story or book.  This is a dream that I'm exploring even as I'm following the RVing dream.  I've been reading and doing the exercises of the book "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron. This has been quite a spiritual pilgrimage, one well worth taking. Here is a poem I wrote one morning as I walked around the lake at our park in Central Illinois:

          Sing, birds, your merry tune to glory in the morning.

          Filter, light, to usher muse in flash of sunlight glow.

          Travel the trail, walkers and carts, seeming to disrupt the flow

               But music is heard in a cheery hello, in a wave, as the day's aborning.

          Ripple, lake, your shimmery shine inviting  peace at your shore.

          Rustle, leaves, to welcome the sounds that through the spirit pours.

          Return, wanderer, to find the source that fills the cup o'erflowing

              For the music heard in each part of the whole is more than the earth can store.

                      (All rights reserved, Mildred P. Ericson, 10/18/2012)

I guess the thing I want to say as I reflect on things since the last time I blogged and at this point in the journey:  Don't wait.  Go for your dream.  Have fun.  Play.  Find the time.

Til next time,

Millie

Roads and Pathways



The Road up to Yankee Boy Basin

 I find myself fascinated with roads and paths. I take many pictures of them.  Sometimes the view is of the road or path ahead; sometimes the one already traveled.  I'm wondering today, "What is this fascination?  Is it the adventure of the unknown ahead - sort of like the anticipation of the unopened packages under the Christmas tree?  Is it the accomplishment of arriving at a certain point in a journey and wanting to reflect and remember the way I have come?  Is it just the beauty of the path snaking through the scenery: the artistry of it, the aesthetic mood created, that I want to hold on to?  Or is it the metaphor of life's journey that captures me?" 

This picture looks back down the road up which we had just come, a four-wheel drive road from Ouray, Colorado, to a magical place in the high mountains called Yankee Boy Basin.  We journeyed with friends in their vehicle.  The way was spectacular, winding with many switch backs and precipitous drop offs into the canyon and creek below; very rough and bumpy at points.  When it opened up into the high meadows of the Basin and we saw the amazing views and beautiful wildflowers, we delighted in our choice to take this journey.  We certainly felt a sense of accomplishment and received a wonderful gift for our effort.   Out of travail comes inexplicable joy!

At the moment that I take these pictures, I'm captured by the aesthetic of the place and want to capture it, hold on to it.  When I review the photos, the remembering of journey and place is called forth.  But also, I think of the anticipation of what lies ahead.  In the remembering, I know that both joys and struggles, adventure and sorrow, effort and gift were part of the path and, despite and because of them, I made it here.  Adventure lies ahead along with joy, sorrow, loss, beautiful places and wonderful experiences.  Because I have made it here, I know I can make it along the paths ahead.  In all this, I have learned that nothing can separate me from the love of God and that she has always been, is currently and will be always be with me through the ups and downs, twists and turns of the road.  I've also learned that there is no wrong path - God is along all of them and there is something to learn, someone to meet, an interesting or amazing place to see even when it seems to be a wrong turn.  And just maybe the turn that seemed wrong, was really made at the Spirit's nudge.  Wouldn't that be amazing to keep in mind when I'm totally annoyed with my husband for missing the exit or making the incorrect turn?

So did I answer my question?  I guess I just like the look of the winding road amidst the scenery of the surrounding area.  But there seems, indeed, to be, in my fascination, something deeper which offers invaluable lessons.

Enjoy the beauty of your particular pathways this day.

And let me know how roads and paths resonate with you! 

COMMUNITY, Part II

In my last post, I leaned heavily into the community I have found in the Episcopal Church.  However, I know that a similar sense of belonging is found in other places as well. 

Other denominations must offer some of the same feelings of cohesion across individual churches and geographic boundaries.  I receive bulletins from the United Church of Christ that supports such fellowship among UCCers.  My Quaker friends describe similar experiences. 

 I recently heard an amazing and beautiful story:  A young family – mother, father, and infant daughter (parents Russian-born but living in China, the daughter born in China) knew they needed to flee ahead of the invading Japanese.  While none spoke English (Russian and Chinese their languages), they chose to immigrate to Australia.  Their denominational connection was Baptist (not sure which branch but one that had roots in Russia and a presence in pre World War II China) sent out a world-wide newsletter regularly.  When this young family was to leave, the newsletter told of their journey.  It reached Australia and a group of church folk decided to meet every boat on which the family might be sailing.  The family was delayed because they had decided to stop off in Singapore on the way, and yet, the faithful group continued to meet every boat.  Finally, the family arrived and were overwhelmingly welcomed into their new community.  Can you imagine how that must have felt for this precious, displaced family as they arrived in a strange land!  The woman who told me this story, now a grandmother, was the infant daughter and still had tears in her eyes in the retelling and the rejoicing in God’s wonderful work through community.

While I believe that some of the best communities are those that are created in a spiritual context, deep feelings of connection happen in other settings as well.  I have found those in professional relationships, particularly with the folks I worked with for many years in a family service agency.  Additionally, particular avenues of post graduate work have led to several communities of which I feel a part.  One in particular has melded the professional and the spiritual to create a unique cohesion that is rich and deep.  This is the community built around sand tray work, which is both a clinical tool of healing and insight and also a way of deepening personal and communal spiritual growth, connection and bonding.  I have been richly blessed by this professional community.  It remains a virtual community as I travel.

Social Workers seek to support their clients in building healthy support systems.  Part of the work of a social work clinician is to assess the supports available to a client system, learn where it is broken or dysfunctional, where it is healthy and helpful; then strengthen the natural positive threads and help the client to build bridges of healing where possible or create new avenues leading to a strong and expanding web of support.  The profession even has a tool, called an ecogram, which plots these supports.  This tool, when drawn and completed, indeed looks much like a wonderful spider web with all parts interlinked and threads connecting back and forth and all around; or like a wheel with the spokes complete and strong. 

However we find community, both the church and my profession reflect on how incredibly essential and basic they are for health and contentment, for successful functioning. 

One of the joys of traveling has been the ability to experience a wide variety of ecosystems.  When I first wrote this we were in the Mojave Desert.  From the interstate, it looks dry and barren except for the scattered cactus and other desert plants, some of which look as dried up and dead as the desert floor.  But get off the highway onto a back road; walk a bit into the desert and it comes alive.  We see cactus flowers, lizards, a bevy of desert quail, a small spring-fed stream, coyote tracks.  They are all interconnected, a desert community, precious and spectacular and vulnerable.  A community that must be preserved.    

Let’s all embrace, expand and preserve our own precious networks!

View from the Coach Window: Community

I wrote the following on Monday, February 14:

Today is Valentine's Day and, as such, it seems a good time to speak of community, something I've wanted to address for some time.  I have lived in community with my Valentine for nearly 47 years.  We have reached the point where the outward expressions of Valentine's Day are not necessary to be reassured of each other's love and commitment.  We took a long walk together through a  beautiful natural area near where we are in San Diego.  This was our Valentine to each other.  The day was sunny and warm and we saw new growth and blossom, the San Diego spring appearing.  Community with one another and with the presence of God in creation.  What could be better?

Shortly before we started off on our adventure last summer, a good friend said to me:  "But won't you miss your community here?"  Well, yes, I do, but not in a way that keeps me from embracing the journey and where I am presently.  For, you see, we have discovered community every place we have traveled, which goes to show that if you have experienced community, know how to be in community and seek signs of community,  you will find community. 

The Episcopal Church, our demonimation, is one of the key elements in establishing connections as we travel.  That this is a liturgical, sacramentally focused denomination whose individual churches are all connected to one another through the use of a common liturgy and prayer book in no small measure helps to make this possible.  It is such a joyful thing to know that we can go into any Episcopal congregation and know the flow of the worship, easily settle into the liturgy and know that the scriptures we hear are the same ones heard in every congregation across the U.S., including our home parishes.  That in and of itself creates a sense of community and communion.

The church has provided a welcoming presence.  The promise that  "The Episcopal Church Welcomes You" has been fulfilled in both small and large congregations across ten states.  Several stand out:

• The small group of fifteen faithful folks at Holy Trinity in Wallace, Idaho, the last Episcopal Church in the Silver Valley, where worship was in the undercroft and where, because we had called the day before to find out the time of worship, places had been saved for us around the table and welcoming waves greeted us as we entered even though the service had already begun (we had to drive a number of miles from Montana where we had stayed the night, to reach the church). 
• The small church in Chehalis, Wa., St. Timothy's, whose members embraced us when our coach broke down and we were "stuck" there for two weeks while it was being repaired.  They reached out with love, inviting us into their lives and activities, and sent us on our way with gifts, tangible and intangible, for which we will be ever greatful.
• The great Cathedral in San Francisco where a lovely gentleman spent time with us before the service helping us to feel welcome.
• The old downtown parish in Rapid City, SD, where we discovered shared acquaintances with the retired priest associate; and where the rector's wife gave me yarn to begin knitting a prayer shawl, answering a quiet prayer of mine.  The smaller parish in the same city, where the joy of the worship permeated the welcome we received and visibly intermingled among congregants.
• The shared ministry parish in Willets, California, whose people celebrated and shared their various gifts of art, music and friendship.
• St. Dunstan's, San Diego, and the warmth of renewed friendship with a fellow clergy couple from Michigan now ministering here.

In all of these and others, we have found community and I thank God for each of them. These are all reasons I love the Episcopal Church and I would invite anyone interested in learning about more reasons folks love this denomination to check out the "People Who Are Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church" group site on Facebook or visit the closest Episcopal Church..

But we've also begun to discover community in the RVing world, too.  It seems RVers love to connect around where they have been and where they are going, and are every ready to offer support and direction.  We enjoyed getting to know lovely neighbors in the site next to us here in San Diego and we've shared dog stories across the country.  Our dog, Sandy, has made many friends, too, especially if the other dog is also a "doodle"--golden or lab.

And I can't fail to mention the wonderful online community of family, colleagues, friends from home and friends along the way.  What an amazing thing the internet and social networking is!

So, my friends, community is there.  It is here.  We continue to seek and find it and I hope that you do, too.  It is something that is incredibly wonderful and incredibly necessary.  And I am so eternally greatful for all my communities. 

And that was the view from the coach on Valentine's Day.

The Challenges to Regular Journaling

I have found it very difficult to create the space and time to journal in my blog while traveling.  Not that I haven't had things I wanted to blog about.  There have been many and I will get to them, hopefully in the near future.  I have a whole list of thoughts, ideas and reflections:  re-creation, people along the way, the wisdom of redwoods, sea lions - just to name a few.  But, when one is traveling, putting the computer away every few days, and wanting to go see the sights on the stopped days, blogging doesn't happen, it seems.  It is also rare to be alone and have quiet, something I at least need to write.  This is a circumstance that I didn't forsee when I decided to start blogging.  I had really thought I would be able to write a few words every few days, or at least once a week.  But no, it hasn't worked out that way.  I guess this just goes to show there are always unforeseen outcomes with all plans.  I wish I could see all those possibilities ahead of time but I have always been caught by some of the unexpected ones.  I have learned on this journey, however, that when the unexpected outcomes occur, there is always a way to problem solve them, learn from them, enjoy them or start up again where you left off. 

So I guess that is what I am doing today.  Starting up where I left off.  But, then again, not really because the view from the coach today is very different from what it was when I began.  So, instead of picking up where I left off, I guess I'm picking up from where I am now!

An unexpected occurence!

And that's the view from the coach window for today.

View from the Coach Window

I have been reflecting on the many dynamics of sight, vision, seeing.  As I've been doing so, the fact that scene and seen are pronounced the same with slightly different, though connected, meanings has resonated with me.  Let me elaborate.

I took the picture of the scene above as we drove towards the Black Hills in South Dakota several weeks ago.  We had been observing the cloud ahead for some time and had took some snaps of it.  I took this, not for the cloud, but because I could finally see the Black Hills in the distance.  What struck me when I downloaded the picture were the layers of meaning that  began to emerge into a metaphor for journey, both external and internal.

As I looked at the scene, I was amazed at what I could see with both the physical and the spiritual eye.  I was amazed at the significance of the dark cloud overhead and the bright blue sky and hills ahead.  As I reflected on the view, the dark cloud seemed to offer a number of different interpretations.  On the surface, it expressed the fulfillment of our dream to travel around the country and to see many beautiful places on our life list.  We had had a bit of difficulty leaving Michigan due to a series of mechanical difficulties with our motor home and, for a bit, it seemed as if Michigan did not want to let us go.  Finally, most of those bumps in the road seemed to be behind us (the dark cloud), we were coming out from under them and the real adventure was beginning.  The hills and the sunshine seemed to say, "Smooth sailing from now on". 

Then, as I continued to contemplate the picture, I was reminded of the Exodus story from the Old Testement where Yahweh follows the Hebrew people  in the form of a hovering cloud. .  Aha - so the cloud was not our troubles but a reminder of God's perpetual presence with us - a reminder I needed because its something I sometimes (uh -often) forget temporarily when bumps in the road occur.  And, of course, the bumps were not over, because all our journeys are filled with a variety of ups and downs, sunlight and shadow, fun and challenge.  Indeed, as in the old adage, you can't have one without the other.  But, the spiritual eye was reminding me that God is there is in it all, supporting, guiding and helping call me back from the anxiety that comes when the unexpected occurs. Then I can view the scene with new eyes, find the positive reframe and the best solutions as well as enjoy the journey a whole lot more.

A few days later, my husband and I were wandering around downtown Rapid City and I saw a piece of art in a window:  four or five Lakota riding across the plains on their ponies, above them a magnificent cloud that looked like a giant bird, maybe an Eagle -  the Great Spirit hovering over them.  Pretty amazing, huh!

So let's keep looking and seeing the scenes around us with all aspects of our beings and see what we discover!

Following the Hat

One of the therapeutic methods that I have used, both with those who have come into my office and for my own spiritual healing and growth is Sandtray Worldplay.  This is a wonderful tool for opening up that center within us.  With this approach, one has a small tray filled with sand and a wide selection of miniatures with which one builds a world in the sand.  From the world that emerges story and experience help to enlighten our life and path.

A number of years ago, I created a sandtray that revealed a couple journeying on a boat, following a hat that was blowing gently ahead of them as if to lead them on their journey.  This sandtray world held promise and vision for me and, of course, the hat seemed to be the leading of the Spirit.

When we bought our Motor Home, of course, a hat had to sit in the window.  Now, the vision is being fulfilled and we travel as the hat leads us.  Today, we are in South Dakota, in the amazingly sacred Black Hills.  We have traveled from  central Michigan through blessed country - North Woods, Great Lakes (the picture is from the Apostle Islands, Wisconsin on Lake Superior), rich farm land, the Great Plains.  I have been in awe of the wonder of these different environments and of this great creation.

I think, whether we are staying in one place or physically traveling from place to place as I am the hat must be our guide, opening our eyes, ears and hearts to the wonders around us.  Sometimes, I forget to experience this and get caught up in the frustrations of the moment, but then I look around me or at my pictures and am called back to the blessing.

Journey well this day as you follow your own particular hat.

Millie