I had read about vermiculite
Using it as is
To start your seeds
“What’s to lose,” I thought.
My parsley was not growing
In the organic starting mix from the Coast of Maine.
The peppers seeds
Were still dormant or had they died
Beneath the perfect soil?
No sweet talk seemed capable
Of drawing them out
At least not my sweet talk!
So, I poured the vermiculite
Into an abandoned cashew yogurt container,
Wet it down
Spread 10 seeds over the surface
Then finished off with a ¼ inch layer of more vermiculite
I blessed it with a fine mist,
Clicked the cover in place
And placed it on the heat mat.
A few days later,
On a less cold spring day
I carried them outside,
With other promising containers,
To the greenhouse
To absorb the warmth
Of that fine New Hampshire sun.
On their second outing day,
As the yogurt container soaked up the warmth of the greenhouse,
I peeked inside
There were 9 baby plants!
Tiny green shoots emerged!!!
The first leaves unfurled
They were beautiful
Each sprout had only the cotyledon leaves—
The embryonic leaves
Atop a delicate green stem
Worried they may need more nutrition
Than the vermiculite and embryonic leaves could provide
Or maybe just excited to move forward
I decided to transplant them!
I separated the babies--
One to each red solo cup
Filled with starter soil
Wet down in preparation
A nice deep divot dug
Ready to embrace the fragile roots
Ever so carefully and breathlessly
I grasped the tiny leaves
Of my first neonate
Pulling steadily, firmly, and gently
I liberated the newborn.
The vermiculite effortlessly released the babe
The white root stalk came forth
With tiny white shoots extending from the main root.
My tiny seed had become
A whole, living plant!
I delicately placed it into its new home,
Patted it reassuringly
Sprinkled another blessing onto the soil
And set it upon the greenhouse shelf
To stretch its roots
Raise each leaf face toward the sun
And accept its welcoming embrace
Nine solo cups
An eggplant copse
Separate but together
So far, surviving their first right of passage!
I screeched with delight!!
Recently while eating
in silence with mostly nuns
I became aware that I was rushing
I saw myself merely shoveling the food in
As I have done for years
Always hurrying to the next event.
But during that meal
In silence
I had an awareness of the preciousness
Of each moment.
I became open to the present
Letting go, if ever so briefly
Of leaping forward to take control
Of the next moment
And the next.
Rather than shoveling at the trough
I put my fork down
Between bites.
Releasing my grip
I resided in the bite I had just taken.
I felt gratitude
For the hands which had prepared my meal
For the rain, the sun, and the earth
Which grew and nurtured the food
And for the seeds which germinated, sprouted,
produced, gave harvest
And died.
I felt appreciation for
The texture and taste of each bite
I gazed upon the trees outside the window
from one meal to the next
I noticed the deepening yellow hue
of the early spring willow trees
I witnessed the hopeful changes
The signs of rebirth
The manifestations of life flourishing.
Putting down my fork between bites
I savored my meal
And I thought of those who are hungry
Of those who are suffering in war torn countries
Without family, food, water or safety
I thought of them all
And held them in silent prayer.
As I chewed and as I swallowed
I felt tremendous gratitude for my life.
Putting my fork down between bites
Time slowed
It truly did
I slowed
I paused and appreciated
Life, love, food, drink, safety
And so much more.
Let me begin here by explaining what liminal space means to me. Liminal is the space between two realities. When moving over the threshold from the old to the new, it is the space between the two. In my life, I found myself in liminal space often when sitting at the bedside of a dying person. In those times, I experienced a feeling of being very close to the spiritual realm — what some might call heaven.
I recently attended a 5 day retreat at an ecospiritual farm — Mercy Farm in Benson VT. It was a restful while profound experience learning about Celtic Spirituality. The meaning of liminal space expanded for me during that week when I found myself writing after taking a walk. It is this writing I shall share–as one of my co-retreatants has held me accountable to sharing here!!
Liminal Space
I call to You, my God
In fright
In pain
Aloud I call to You.
The dog racing down the driveway
The owner shouting
I hear panic in his shout
The other dogs retreated
But the blonde kept racing
Toward me
As the owner’s shouts
Grew more desperate.
I hurried
Careful not to run and attract
I saw him halfway down the driveway
The now not so long driveway
His threatening bark increasing in volume
The owner’s cries more insistent.
“Oh, God; Oh, God; Oh God!”
I bleat out.
I spy the thick trunk of a nearby tree
Might hiding help?
Surely not
As he would find my scent
I am certain he is on attack
My hand grasping the slate I had found
I clutch it fiercely
I will use this to fend off
The monster dog.
I don’t hear him anymore
Daring to quickly glance back
I discover
He is not on the road behind me.
My breathing begins to slow
The hammering of my heart
Recedes from my ears.
I breathe in deeply
The danger has past.
I am in the emergency department.
The doctor is delayed in seeing me
I stand in agony
The pain both terrifies and immobilizes me
I cannot sit
I cannot lie
The night has been ages
And still stretching into dawn
I remember only my chant
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
I cried out in desperation.
My friend said I sounded like a feral animal
Was it that plea?
Or was I writhing aloud?
I reach the vista point
On my arduous hike
Seeing the light shining through the trees
I walk onto the outcropping
Awe fills my being
As I gaze out on the beauty of creation
I drink deeply the horizon
I drink deeply from my water bottle
I sigh and proclaim
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
I pause briefly
As I enter the Intensive Care Unit
I center myself
Pushing aside all else
I timidly open the door while sending up a plea
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
I beseech--grant me wisdom,
Compassion and love
As I be with this dying person
This suffering family
Oh, God–hear my call.
I look out over my garden.
Build by loving hands of others
Boxes created by my husband
Soil mixed by friends and family
Greenhouse absorbing warmth
As it gathers sun’s life giving rays
Furthering incarnation.
Fence posts dug on hot summer day
Fashioned from my dream
Plants bearing fruit
Birds flitting in/out feasting
On worms and bugs
I take in this miracle of garden
My Garden of Delight
And I send up a silent call of thanks
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
I drive down the ice covered road
Snow swirling around me
Yellow line barely visible
Thankful for my car, tires and studs
Miles still to travel
Clutching 10 and 2
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
I plea
Bring me home
Holding my newborn granddaughter in my arms
Aware of this miracle of life but still
Startled by the depth of love
Stirring with immediacy
Deep within.
Knowing beyond knowledge
The mystical bond between us.
Eyes filled with tears of
Gratitude for this moment
I swaddle with love this babe and murmur
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
In the arms of my love
A gift of my later life
In passion and release
I cry out
“Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, God!”
In so many ways
For so many reasons
The curtain of separation blows aside
And allows a peak
If ever so briefly
Into the full joy of connection
Granting a momentary glance into
The fullness of the God Spirit within
This is Liminal Space
The curtain is thinned and opened
It is the cervix of our birth and rebirth.
Morning Light
A fresh beginning
Awash with possibilities
A clean canvas
On which to paint
The life of my choosing
A fresh beginning
Yesterday’s missteps released and
Warmed by the rising of today’s sun
I embark upon my day
A fresh beginning
Each step imbued with hope
Going forward into the unknown
I stand on the shore of today
A fresh beginning
Mindful of the suffering,
The darkness of the world
I embrace the sun’s rising and pray
A fresh beginning
The re-birthing of love
Casting aside the demon of “impossible”
I strive to live the folly of hope
That one small life
Attempting to be a loving presence
To our earth and it’s people
Will bring solace and healing
To our world
That the burden of even one heart may be lessened
By the power of love spread
In ways we cannot know
A fresh beginning
Awaken people of love
Have courage
Bring your disbelief, sadness and discouragement
To the sunrise
An offering of trust in this new day
Find within yourself
A fresh beginning
As you birth a tiny sprout of love
Into our troubled world.
What grants you such power?
What gives you authority?
What feeds your growth?
What does it take to prune you?
What will trap you?
How can your roots be contained?
How can you be kept in your own place?
What will prevent you from overtaking
The Garden of Life?
Fear
An invasive species
Not native to our kind
But present and pervasive, nevertheless
Fear
Of past pain and suffering
Returning with a vengeance
Of future loss
Of death of loved ones
Of conflict, violence and war.
Fear
Of sleeplessness
Of laziness
Of failure
Of redundancy and emptiness
Of illness and infirmity
Of financial struggles
of love, success and happiness.
Fear
Of loneliness and cold
Of heat and danger
Of cruelty and evil.
So much to fear
The list grows with the telling
But--does the telling shed light?
Fear
Grows unrestrained
In dark, secret corners of our beings
The roots sink into the rich compost
of human frailty
Insidiously attacking and overtaking
Our roots of happiness, love, peace and meaning
Crowding out the fruits of the Spirit;
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control
Casting dark shadows--obscuring our light.
Fear
From where comes your power?
What feeds you?
How can you be tamed?
Dare to open the doors of your heartOpen wide to the light of goodness, of love
Know, deep in your being, know
That there resides a seed of hope, of truth
Flickering always--ready to ignite to flame
God, by any name, residing within
the ever present Light of Love.Quiet. . . quiet the thoughts
Quiet. . . Quiet the torment
Quiet. . . quiet the steady stream of doubt.
Listen. . . deep within the quiet
Feel. . . the wisp of hope
the wisp of maybe
the wisp of the wings of love.
Stay there and feed your spirit
Nourish the soil of your soul
And the roots of fear
Will wither and retreat
Now, take hold of each branch of that fear
Pull it, roots and all,
Out of the nurturing soil.
Look closely at the dis-empowered fear
See it for the limp, scraggle it is
cut off from its source.
Honor the suffering you have endured
The pain that has disconnected you from nutrientsThe dark that hovered in the pain
And allowed the invader, fear , to take root.
Offer compassion to the self
Who suffered and withdrew
Applaud him/her for persevering
Despite hardship, loss, and pain.With the power of your truth
Gather the weeds of worry,
the Vegetation of victim
Place them with care
In a steel walled, solid floored container
Give them no water, no fertilizer, no soil
Let them wither and shrink
Untended
Watch them lose their power.
Witness the fruits of your Garden of Life
As they prosper, flourish, and multiply
Breathe in deeply the beauty
Give breath to the flickering light
Allow your roots to take a deep and steadfast hold.
Pain and suffering will visit
Winds of change will blow
The freeze of winter will come.
Be at peace knowing
Your roots reach deeply into the well of life
Drink deeply and carry on
For fear can strangle you no more.
War
The unimaginable game of a man
Senseless destruction of lives
Lives of Ukrainians
Defending their homeland,
Their way of life,
Their families and
The world as they know it
Lives of Russians
Powerful brainwashing
What did he say?
What did he threaten
To embolden young men and women
To attack, unprovoked a neighbor country?
Miles of tanks
Driven by Russians
How did he plant the seeds
Of kill, destroy, inflict carnage?
What evil lurks within?
How do we crush this malevolence
Without embodying evil ourselves?
The world is uniting
In rejection of this heinous action
Loving generosity is exploding
In retaliation
Some Russian citizens have resisted
The embrace of evil
Are risking lives and freedom
To renounce this action of their leader
And his minions
Prayer seems so small, so insignificant
In the presence of military might
However, prayer can fuel love
Can bring strength to hearts suffering
across the world
Prayer can fight evil
It is not all we can do
It is the best we can do
It will inspire and direct wisdom
And any chosen action will be the fruit of that wisdom
May the power of love surround and empower good in this world.
God’s presence Is here and now It can be felt; it can be known
I felt it at the dentist Lying back Mouth open – stretching wide So many hands in my mouth So much at stake How long can my back hold out in this position?
Time crawled forward, a half hour, an hour Then Shannon’s body Pressed against my arm as she worked I felt peace, I felt reassurance I felt the Spirit of God In that chair In that trying moment Unrequested I knew the presence of Light, of Love It existed in the communion Between the dentist and I I would have smiled, but my mouth was full So my heart just smiled As by body relaxed.
I made my way out to the greenhouse Not hard to do, as Tom lovingly keeps a path cleared for me The air outside, well below freezing I opened the door and stepped inside It was a toasty 69 degrees The sun was pouring in, Snow enveloped the lower half of the building I sat in my little chair Breathing in the freshness of air Gazing at the raised bed awaiting plants Looking out at the trees, the blue sky Warmed only by the sun Protected from harsh wind I let it all soak in And I knew God’s healing touch God’s presence In the natural world
I knew Love Sitting beside my dad as he lay dying I was filled to bursting with the presence Of God’s Spirit - Maybe coming to journey dad home? So near to God, I knew God’s presence In the person of my grand niece Who let me hold her on my lap Let me release some of the all-powerful love into her In the passing on of the love, there is communion There resides God.
I saw God’s love Watching six grandchildren, great grandchildren Carrying Dad’s body Into the church. With love and respect, They honored him. In the power of that moment I knew God’s presence As they walked up the stairs Into the church God's presence was so near - Filling the vestibule Filling my soul. I knew love In my two older grandchildren One in each arm As I squatted between them Together we witnessed love, we shared love As Dad’s body Was carried into the church.
God’s presence Holy Spirit Loving Energy Supreme Being El Shaddai Adonai Abba YHWH So many names So many faith traditions This presence is not owned - not exclusive But there for everyone It is all around us and within us If we but pause, open, And let the knowing fill our beings Then release that love into our world!
Halfway!
We made it halfway!
The midpoint is here
This very day marks
The approach way to spring.
We have endured winter’s worst
The dark tunnel
Of cold, grey isolation
The frigid air
That burns your cheeks
And freezes your nose hairs
The furnace running and running
Dollar signs spinning
As the oil tank empties
Bravely, courageously
We ventured deeper and deeper
Into the quiet of winter
But now – we have hit nadir
We have touched bottom
And look to begin
An upward ascent
We look toward the light
The sun higher in the sky
The days lengthening
The seeds of hope and life
Arriving in the mail
Knowing Faith in the future
Planning gardens
Getting ready
We have made it halfway!
Was there life, happiness
On our journey inward?
Did we allow quiet and dark
To nest within us?
Did we hear
The groanings of the earth
As she rested and healed?
Did we enter the dark,
Allow it to be?
Did we claim our own darkness
Stay with it, accept it
As it transformed us?
Did we, in the quiet, allowed all our parts
To join, heal and be made whole?
As we look to spring
Can we embrace winter
As we release it?
Feel the quiet
Find peace, not fear in the dark
Wrap ourselves in a blanket
Of love
Knowing we are loved.
Can we, in faith
Find peace as we release fear?
Delight touches our souls
As the days lengthen
The sun shines warmer
Melting our darkness
Are we ready to fully re-enter life
Spring life
Full of resurrection
Green sprouts,
Budding trees, gurgling brooks
Melting snow
Creating water for new growth?
Rest now –
Welcome these remaining days of quiet
As we ready
For new life once again!
Happy Imbolc*!
*Imbolc is celebrated on the Celtic Calendar on February 1st. It marks the time when the Earth begins to awaken and things start to grow as we move toward the light half of the year.
In this moment,
Exist the moments of a millennia
More, more than a millennia
But who’s counting?
In this moment,
There exists
The spirit of untold peoples
Whose stories lie dormant
Whose voices rest silent
In this moment,
Exists the soil of generations
Raped, pillaged,
Nurtured, treasured
Created, destroyed
The soil of our time
The soil becoming our food
Our sustenance
In this moment,
Exists air from breath
Of each being
Who came before
Who sighed, who exhaled
Breath of the great, the famous,
The mighty, the minuscule
Of saints, sailors and seductresses
Of demons, devils and debutantes
Of our grandparents, parents, ancestors,
Our children and all creatures
Domestic, farm and wild
In this moment,
we breathe air
cleansed by centuries
Of green growth -
Plants exhaling life
Giving of their lifeto nurture, sustain others
In this moment,
Shines the sun
As it has shone
Upon our planet
For every previous generation
In this moment,
Shine the stars
Hidden now, by light of day
In this moment,
I exist.
Small, insignificant?
Or a thread of the fiber of existence?
In this moment,
I hold within my mortal being
The hopes, dreams, heartache
And suffering
Of humanity gone before.
In this moment,
It is my turn
To recognize my gifts
To create myself anew,
Finding truth, delight and meaning
As I live out my turn
In this beautiful world.
In this moment,
All I must do
Is breathe in
The energy all around
Breathe out
Breath transformed.
In this moment,
I bow down
In respect and awe
I raise my eyes
In supplication and love
I open my hands and heart
In humble offering
As I put pen to paper.
In this moment.
Crumbs for the Journey 