Light/Breezes

Light/Breezes
SUNRISE AT DEATH VALLEY-Photo by Tom Cochrun
Showing posts with label Lana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lana. Show all posts

Thursday, June 9, 2022

"...we thought we'd bring peace to the world..."

off-shore Cambria, CA


        It was buried in an Associated Press report from Colleville-Sur-Mer, France, an account of several dozen veterans in their 90's observing D-Day. About 4 paragraphs down it jumped off the page, one of those universal truths we recognize with a flash.

    The speaker is a 98 year old Penobscot Native American from Indian Island Maine who was participating in a sage-burning ceremony near the beach. Charles Shay was a 19 year old US Army Medic at Omaha Beach.

    "In 1944 I landed on these beaches and we thought we'd bring peace to the world. But it's not possible."

    It is not possible! Peace?

    Sage burning is a native ritual of cleansing and release and on this day in honor of fallen comrades. 

    "I have never forgotten them and know their spirits are here."

    The AP reports "He said he is especially sad to see war in Europe again. 

    'Ukraine is sad. I feel sorry for the people there and I don't know why this war had to come, but I think human beings like to, I think they like to fight, I don't know...'"

    98, a survivor of an historically bloody invasion tending to the fallen as a healer, a spiritual man who has seen the ways of the world for almost a century, and he cannot understand human beings. 

    It is no wonder then that I cannot. 

    Peace, the diadem of human faith, the elusive goal of religions and diplomacy, the thing that humankind values above all, even trying to find it in places, things, and states of mind. Peace, a state of no conflict, of no hostility, of no more war. It is not possible.


    Not possible. You can't get peace out violence. 

    Quickly I attempted to deconstruct the truth that Charles Shay spoke 78 years after he was part of massive effort to "bring peace." My mind ran to my father and his generation who fought in that war, to "win the peace." And then to my friends who "did their patriotic duty" in Viet Nam and then to all of the other conflicts, all over the globe. Why is it that we ask so much for a peace that is impossible. 

    It was ever such.
    The only good thing to be said of a war is when it ends. Though, does it ever? It only changes shape and decades. Peace, an idealistic aspiration is shredded by a read of history. 

    We stumble through life grazing for something that will resonate deeply as significant, a clarifying knowledge, an insight. We search, even as we're never sure what it is we're after. Until it smacks us. 

    Peace is impossible, because?
    As Mr. Shay said, "human beings like to, I think they like to fight."

    Despite the wisdom of this special man, and even in these later years of my life, I'm not giving up on peace, either as a diplomatic and geo political quest, and certainly not as a spiritual reality. 
    As a global status it may not be possible, no indeed, but the absence of trying for it is even more disturbing. 

    Some humans choose to live in peace, engaging our better likes. 
    Lana creates beauty. Here is evidence, a corner of our deck, benefiting from her affirmation of life by means of a green thumb.




    Even through the millennia of human history, from clubs and stones to assault weapons, killer drones and nuclear missiles, the force of life resurrects itself, nature shows us the path. For as long as we have told our histories particular humans have lifted our vision to what can be. Like Mr. Shay humans have knelt over the injured and dying and have comforted parents, friends and the grieving. Humans have told us there is a better way. It need not be our destiny "... to like to fight. 
    I think it is that which enables our survival.

    Peace.

    See you down the trail.
    


    

 

Sunday, April 4, 2021

When Mother Nature Paints

 

Spring revival in Lana's garden


Color and texture is abundant in our annual look
























Mother nature's assistant at work

Wishing you all the best of spring's rebirth!

See you down the trail.



Saturday, May 2, 2020

A Viral Sa Bat


deeply embedded
     Some things we cannot escape. Deep brain stuff.

Pacific coast bluff, north of Cambria 

 nature's memes
     Ancient cultures made their own accords with nature. Before maps, native people made the outcropping above a special place. They worked mortar holes into the rock on this bluff vista. They ground food and gathered here and returned seasonally, year after year.

Iconic rock and sanctuary for sea birds
Cambria, Ca

       Nature has its go to places. It provides rhythm, reason and living things then respond. From the beginning, humans have observed, remembered, and acted. We seek places for retreat and sanctuary.


as though we always knew


     Against what passes for our modern "will," and not by our design, humankind has found itself observing ancient advice, maybe code, running in the DNA or neural chemistry. 
      Fight or flight is said to be instinct. Instinctively we took to shelter, to avoid the invisible terrorist. It is the same dance  animals have taken to avoid a predator, since life dawned.
      Instinct, code, neural learning, survival, evolution. 
spring bloom, California central coast 

cease and stop
     Work through this with me, please. In the last two months, as the world gave up commerce and the frenetic pace of modern life, wonderful things have occurred on the planet. Scientists say Earth is healing, at least getting a break. Air is cleaner. We've stopped pumping as much poison and plastic into nature. 
      As people we have struggled. The economy plummets, financial futures seem in ruin, children at home, conscripted family and domestic arrangements, and we are forced into new ways of doing almost everything. 
      Life as we knew it stopped!
     
an enforced Shabbat
     Biblical Hebrew Shabbat means to stop, to cease. But it goes deeper and more broadly.
     Sumerian language gives us Sa bat, meaning "mid rest." It is the language of one of the oldest civilizations in this epoch of human history, the language of Sumer, from the early Bronze age. Old. Very old. Deep, deep history. 

     Akkadian is an extinct Semitic language that was used in Mesopotamia from 3 Millenia BCE. Their word was "um nuh libi," meaning "day of mid repose."
     Scholarship suggests the concept was also part of the Ugarit language around 6000 BCE. Ugarit is related to Hebrew, Aramaic and Phoenician, a bridge between cultures.
     Hit fast forward to about 800 BC and we begin to see how this concept of rest and stop gathers cultural power. We find "Shmita," part of 7 year cycle in Hebrew culture, where land is to be left fallow for a year and all debts are to be forgiven. Every 7 years.
      Since 500 BCE Buddhists seek an inner calm and peace by observing "Uposatha day," a time for cleansing the mind.
      The height of Muslim practice is Jumu'ah, the Friday afternoon prayer when one is to remember Allah and leave business and the affairs of life.
      Seminary Professor Randy Woodley, a Keetoowah Cherokee descendent says American indigenous people did not live by seven day calendars. Their life was organized to provide what they needed, "There was no drive toward over production, no fostering of greed for more than was needed." 
      The wealthiest helped others. Generosity was a core value as was respect for nature. 
     "Even today, a Cherokee teaching instructs when gathering herbs and medicines, one should pick only every fourth plant, leaving the rest for the earth and other people."
      Indigenous people observed festivals and ceremonies that provided a sense of nature, balance and connection.


a concept missing in action
     Perhaps you remember when Sunday/Sabbath was not only a matter of faith practice, but a cultural artifact. Stores were not open, liquor could not be purchased, youth sports never occurred on Sunday morning, people rested, or went to church or temple, took Sunday drives to visit relatives, had picnics and a host of activity that was, if not a stopping, at least a slowing down.
      The 20th Century took us far from that life. And now in the 21st we find ourselves forced into a virus mandated Sa Bat.

how are we doing?
      What have we learned, of ourselves, of how we live, work, and spend our days?
       We're at an historic pass. We don't know what is ahead as we begin to "reopen for business" and try to find our way to "normal." Will there be a new outbreak, new spikes, new emergencies? Will our government find a way to extend financial lifelines to millions upon millions of working people?  
       How will business, travel, and hospitality find footing?
       We are at a base line and zero moment in medical and scientific research. There is much to learn and we are pushing boundaries of knowledge. It is a cutting edge.
        The same is so for how we live. What do we take from this Sa bat? Did this junction of disease and life and the mandated repose tell us something about how to deal with another looming crisis, climate change?
       Did we learn what we have become as people, who eschew ideas of rest, ceasing, or stopping?
       Did we learn something of 21Century humanity as a  materialistic, consuming and technology driven animal that chooses not to contemplate matters of soul, spirit, or the principles and morality that arise from times of ritual rest,  observance, celebration or prayer?
       Is the desire for such rest hard wired in our brain? Is it a tool of our well being?
       Did the ancient practice ground us to something vital to our survival? 

 in praise of gardening

    And praise for the gardener, Lana, who has painted this hill with color and devotion.






you scratch my back, i'll scratch yours


     Take care of each other. Stay well.

     See you down the trail.

Tuesday, December 3, 2019

There is a moment...




     The magic begins to work on the heart, with the first step in the climb up the hill, crowning Cambria's East Village. It quickly reaches the mind as one recalls the wrap of sound, image and memory that are so delicately woven in this special place on this special night.
    Lana is quick to tell that this night, the Candlelight Concert is the highlight of her year, let alone this festive season.
      For almost 150 years the Chapel has been aglow above our village tucked between the Pacific and the Monterey Pine and Oak forests of the Santa Lucia Mountains. Readers of LightBreezes have received impressions since 2011. 
         There is a moment in this traditional evening when time melts and when emotions and feelings and your sensory memories glide into a kind of current and all that you've ever known of Christmas and family are there in your head and heart as the sweet music and narrative write even more code.
      Judith Laramore's annual Reflections open those portals with her exquisite narrative. This year recalling a cold and drafty winter on Hoot Owl Lane outside Bluffton Indiana, my mother's hometown, was a literary Norman Rockwell for the soul. Colorful and vivid scenes, family gatherings, visits to  aunt Norma and uncle Charles on Chicago's Lake Shore drive and the special place in her heart for Aunt Lois created a homily to the nurturing love of family at the holidays. They are universal memories.
       And of course there is the music and the magnificent players arranged by the renown Brynn Albanese who makes the violin an instrument of love.

      We were treated to a world premier of sorts. John Neufeld, a Cambrian arranged and Orchestrated almost all of John Williams movie compositions for decades. He did an innovation on Ave Maria for this special night on the hill in our little village. 
    Before the Farewell, blend of instrument and voice, Bruce Black again told tales of family humor and treated us all to the annual Twas The Night Before Christmas.

      And so, Christmas has come again, and the magic of the season has been lit by the candles glowing in an historic chapel, flowing from a hill top mixed with sweet music and memory, a place where life and dream weave.

      See you down the trail, in Ireland.