I recently picked up at the health food store a copy of a 50-page periodical called "Green Teacher: Education for Planet Earth," and I've decided that since it's summer and we're all capable of dreaming about how the next school year might be, I'll donate a GT subscription to our Montessori school in hopes of further inspiring the school's receptive management. Articles in the spring issue include pieces on how to help kids in the classroom develop and report back on an indivdual "environmental practice" like timing showers, flushing the toilet less (hmmm, not too keen on that one), biking or walking instead of driving, or helping parents improve home recycling. (One practice I've been observing is taking bottles and cans of drinks consumed in restaurants home to recycle, since a lot of places we frequent don't seem to do it.) Green Teacher also sells books on "Teaching Green," covering climate change, how to green-up school grounds, and how to encourage an interest in environmental studies throughout the school year. Yes, all this stuff is best taught at home too, but support from a school that engages the whole peer group is vitally important.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 12:04 PM | Permalink |
Everyone should have a pal like my nutritionally-hip friend Myra. She's the one who introduced me to the whole grain farrow. Yesterday, she gave me a bag of nutritional yeast flakes ("the full complement of B vitamins," Myra says, great in smoothies and on popcorn). Myra told me about krill oil, and says it is better for you than most other fish and flax seed oils. She uses kelp power as a condiment (though she says it doesn't really have a flavor), shaking it into every cold salad and steaming pot of food that she creates. "It's like seasoning your food with the iron you need," she says. At night, she puts some millet, barley, whole wheat berries, or farrow into a bowl with water and a splash of fresh lemon juice; then she rinses the soaked grains in the morning and cooks them up for the day.
"Eat more greens and grains! Eat more greens and grains!" she tells me.
I say, "Myra, I just want to come to your house and follow you around."
Here's how Myra makes her morning breakfast shakes: She uses green tea or goji berry tea as a base. Or, sometimes she uses any alternative milk as base like soy, rice, almond, oat, or hazelnut. Then, she adds whatever she's got around in the house (not everything in the house, but any number of the follwoing things in compatible combinations): cacao beans (also called nibs), dried organic goji berries, hemp seeds, nutritional yeast flakes or Brewer's yeast, bee pollen, oatmeal, sunflower seeds, pepitas, flax seed, almonds (or any raw nut), nut butters, frozen berries, frozen bananas (peel them first and freeze in plastic bags), and plain whole milk yogurt.
Blend, taste. Add a little unfiltered honey if you must. I've come to really like the nutritional yeast taste in the morning, but I understand it might not be everybody's thing. One of my sons craves it, the other doesn't.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:55 AM | Permalink |
"All sober inquirers after truth, ancient and modern, pagan and Christian, have declared that the happiness of man, as well as his dignity, consists in virtue. Confucius, Zoroaster, Socrates, Mahomet, not to mention authorities really sacred, have agreed in this."
--John Adams, "Thoughts on Government," 1776. Jesus is probably among the "really sacred" he doesn't name, but it is interesting he cast his net as wide as he did.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:50 AM | Permalink |
I live near a Botanical Garden that contains beautifully landscaped acres of Shakespearean herbs, a rolling creek, a lily pond, and a Japanese meditation area with a small temple. Turtles, koi, and ducks swim in the pond. If I still jogged, I could jog to these gardens in four minutes. At a walking pace, it might take twelve minutes to get through the main gate.
Last night, I took the Chattering kids and two friends to these gardens for the monthly "Summer Picnic Night," and as the children peacefully hunted for baby rabbits in the Cherry Tree Arcade near dusk (apparently, a lot of New Yorkers have turned unwanted pet bunnies loose in there, and they've multiplied!), I sat on a bench, breathing and thinking: "It's so beautiful here, the air is clear, and I'm so close to home. Why don't I get to this place more?"
Why do we too frequently see life as a hassle to endure, when it's usually only a short walk to serenity and bliss? The thing we most deeply desire is always near. Nearer than my gardens, even. Inside each of us, in fact.
"You may feel 'out' of the great flow, but it always flows right through the middle of your life, and through you, too. You may feel far from 'it,' but rest assured that it is never apart from you," says Lama Surya Das in this column for Beliefnet.
Is there something near you that you aren't taking full advantage of, or true pleasure in? Think about it.
I don't know if you're actually following this, but it is interesting to note that outgoing "The View" co-host Star Jones Reynolds and incoming co-host Rosie O'Donnell were born just three days apart in March of 1962. I get this from Beliefnet.com astrology writer Shelley Ackerman. O'Donnell was born on March 21, and Reynolds was born on March 24. That means their shared sun sign is Aries, ruled by Mars, God of War. "There was no way these two could have comfortably shared that or any couch," Shelley says. Another point of interest is that Barbara Walters (who was unsuccessful in her efforts to get Reynolds to leave the show gracefully) was born on September 25, 180 degrees away from Aries on the zodiac wheel. Shelley goes on to say that last week's solar ingress into Cancer, the transition of the nodes from Aries/Libra to Pisces/Virgo, and the wrenching Mars/Saturn conjunction set off the successful ABC program's shake-up.
The May-June issue of "Mothering" has a good article on baby-parent attachment and the pernicious influence of those baby car seats thought to be nifty since you can tote your child around everywhere in them, from car to store to home and back, without touching or interacting very much. Use a sling when you're moving around, author Catherine McKenzie says. It forces the two of you to snuggle and relate. Here's an example of celebrities doing the right thing.
I've been working hard to build my internal iron reserves in the last few weeks by discovering dietary iron sources I never knew about (Royal Jelly has just been recommended to me, have you ever tried it?). I also give myself Reiki treatments before rising from bed, and I recite healing affirmations to myself to strengthen my resolve since, apparently, a part of me has grown quite comfortable with being exhausted. Here's a long list of affirmations, some of which I find helpful. Among them:
Gee, you readers are great, and so generous with great links and suggestions. Write me more, let's interact (spiritual material does not get as much of a written response from Beliefnet members as political talk, but I don't know why that has to be). I just learned this morning that Chattering Mind is one of the top five ways folks currently come "into" Beliefnet. But this begs the question: if you are coming in "through" me, do you want me to more systematically inform you of what might be of interest to you on the main site? That is, do you want me to regularly guide you to homepage articles and pieces on Beliefnet's "Spirituality" page that you might otherwise miss? Or are you seeing those? Every day, so much worthy material is published by us. And we're always looking for information on how people use the site, so please let me know what you're seeing, what you're using, and how I can help you access more.
Thanks to Eevie Keys who sent us this link to her favorite cat humor site, good for any moment you need a little lift (don't send PETA after me for this, though).
Thanks also to Erik, who reminded us that NPR carries a wonderful Early Music radio program from the University of Indiana called "Harmonia." Archived shows can be heard online here.
And trusty, sympatico reader Daria puts us on to a great link I want to examine in more detail: An online Rudolf Steiner "Calendar of the Soul" with daily meditations and exercises. Some of this site is still under construction.
"What is Oprah, anyway?" asked my youngest as I gathered both boys around the television at four p.m. yesterday.
"It's--she's--a popular talk show host and Rabbi Shmuley--remember him?--is on her program today," I told them, thinking: how hard can it be to get kids to look at a television set? "They're both going to talk about how families can get along better!" Well, that immediately killed their interest. But in the end, they got into it.
Rabbi Shmuley Boteach is a Beliefnet.com columnist, but is perhaps most famous for being the author of "Kosher Sex," a Jewish advice tome akin to another brisk seller, "Hot Monoganomy." Both books advocate doing whatever it takes--sex toys, etc.--to keep a marriage frisky. Boteach was on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" yesterday to promote his Learning Channel (TLC) family therapy program called "Shalom in the Home," a family fix-it show that appeals to anyone, not just Jewish viewers.
I like it that a rabbi in a yarmulke is seen as a potentially great family therapist, instead of the usual prim and firm British nanny. Boteach's premise is that too many dads feel broken and detached, night after night, and that too many moms nag since they're working outside the home and are often exhausted by their own feminine style of micromanaging. The first couple Oprah invited onstage to demonstrate Boteach's therapeutic prowess was getting no respect from its offspring--despite the fact that the Dad was a chiropractor, and the mom was a yoga instructor! Boteach showed embarrassing video tape of the family's dysfunctional patterns, and then sent all five out to volunteer at New York City's Bowery Mission, where they prepared a meal for the homeless before returning to their own house sobered, grateful, and back in love with one another.
The rest of the "Oprah" show featured snippets on why it's wrong to give your kids everything they want. "You're creating insatiable needs in your children when you give them too much!" Boteach said. One mother who'd given her five-year-old daughter diamond earrings, seemed in desperate need of more counseling as Oprah was obliged to wrap the hour up. Oh well, you can't heal everybody.
Oh dear, I've been remiss. I should have told you weeks ago that Ammachi, the guru with the healing smile and a generousity of spirit that doesn't quit, is on tour in the states. Here's her tour schedule. And here's an wonderful article by Frances Stahnke about the experience of waiting in a long line to be hugged by her. For millions, the hug has been a life changing experience.
"How can you live in the Northeast? How can you live in the South? How can you build on the banks of a river when the flood water pours from the mouth? How can you be a Christian? How can you be a Jew? How can you be a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Hindu? How can you?
"Weak as the winter sun, we enter life on earth. Names and religion come just after date of birth. Then everybody gets a tongue to speak, and everyone hears an inner voice. A day at the end of the week to wonder and rejoice.
"If the answer is infinite light, why do we sleep in the dark?"
--Paul Simon, from the lyrics of "How Can You Live in the Northeast?" the first song on his new album "Surprise."
If you don't own mala or rosary prayer beads, and if you sometimes find it difficult to keep track of the mantras you are repeating in meditation, or if you have a friend interested in any of these things, these "Seeds of Kindness" beads (which coordinate with the four wishes of the loving-kindness meditation), strike me as especially good beginning sets for yourself or as gifts. They are the gorgeous wares of three women in Chapel Hill, NC, who share a spiritually-inclined psychotherapy office and have combined their attraction to beads with their experiences with loving-kindness meditations. As a team, they came up with the idea to sell these sweet bead strings out of a "profound desire to contribute positive energy to the world."
As you meditate, you may touch each bead and repeat the metta meditation: May you be happy, may you be healthy, may you be peaceful, may you be safe.
"We have infused these beads with our compassion and goodwill, and we encourage you to do the same, whether they are for your own use or are to be given as a spiritual gift. Hold them as you meditate or...simply ask from your heart that these beads be a symbol of love and peace. May they help to nurture the loving kindness in your life."
The $45 bead string seems just about as pretty as the more expensive versions to me. I learned of these products through an ad in Shambhala Sun.
I have made the conscious decision to start dressing like a goddess. Well, some might say "like a total kook."
Today, for instance, I put on a black cotton top which has white shells and silver sequins descending the V-neck, and a calf-length black skirt underwhich peeps--this is key--a frothy, white gypsy petticoat that has small bells sewn within it.
If I hold my stomach in, I look really good. And when I walk, I ring!
Nope, I'm not going to a square dance. I'm only scheduled to blog and greet the dog groomer today. But I feel vibrant and divinely feminine (are those iron supplements also kicking in?).
What do you do to bolster yourself? Men, don't abandon me here! I noticed on the cover of last week's Newsweek that Johnny Depp looked healthy and virile wearing, among other things, a nice-looking leather cuff on his wrist. Just a little thing.
As I age, I feel a greater need to express myself with a few out-of-the-ordinary accoutrements. They sort of stand in for my personality until I open my mouth. And because I spent more than forty years believing that it was always best to be 1. smart and 2. elegantly understated, I now believe that dressing more flamboyantly is, for me, one way to connect with my spiritual path. This is not about materialism. I'm not trying to get anyone's attention. I'm just spreading my vital life force!
Does this pass as spiritual practice? When accompanied by the right intent, I'd say so.
Forgive me if you're not interested in petticoats in any context, and fail to see their spiritual meaning. Perhaps I'm resolving something from a past life. But I'm the proud owner of two major petticoats right now: one in Chinese red that I purchased at a street market several weeks ago, and the aforementioned white one with bells was acquired through eBay.com from a British petticoat maker. For some reason, petticoats are very big in Great Britian. Remants of Dickens, perhaps. You could probably find a good one in the formal department of your hometown thrift shop. Here are a few eBay.com images to give you a sense of what I'm talking about. This one is cute, but too short, here's one in a lovely color designed to be worn under a saree, here is a fabulous one in black (but obviously, you have to wear another skirt or dress over it), and here and here are two more I just like a lot.
If you love the religious passion of Medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque periods of Western music as much as I do, you are a lover of what's called "Early Music." And depending upon whom you talk to, the music of George Frideric Handel (1685-1759) is considered to fall at the tail end of the Early Music period. One of my favorite ballets, "L'Allegro, il Penseroso, ed il Moderato," a creation of the modern choreographer Mark Morris, was set to Handel's music. The juxtaposition of the oratorio sound with bright color and contemporary movement is astonishing. The old becomes new.
I've recently found two great resources that can educate you as an Early Music consumer, and assist you in deciding what to buy. Lord knows, there's lots to study; it's really a full-time job! Here's an Early Music radio station that features all manner of lovely selections, and here's a site I spied advertised in the book review of the New York Times last week. It has some free downloads, though you have to pay for others.
President Bush isn't the only one down in the polls. Firm belief in God has descended five points in the last year, according to recent Gallup research.
Even the most skeptical skeptic will enjoy reading Richard Tarnas's new book "Cosmos and Psyche: Intimations of a New World View." In it, the cultural historian and professor at the California Institute of Integral Studies uses astrology and planetary correspondences to illustrate patterns in world events, reminding us that the stars do, in fact, light the way for humanity on its spiritual evolution and struggle with maturity.
"I believe that humankind has entered into the most critical stages of a death-rebirth mystery," Tarnas says. "In retrospect it seems that the entire path of Western civilization has taken humankind and the planet on a trajectory of initiatory transformation into a state of spiritual alienation, into an encounter with mortality on a global scale--from world wars and holocausts to the nuclear crisis and now the planetary ecological crisis--an encounter with mortality that is no longer individual and personal but rather transpersonal, collective, planetary.
"It is a collective dark night of the soul, a deep separation from the community of being, from the cosmos itself. We are undergoing this rite of passage with virtually no guidance from wise elders because the wise elders are caught up in the same crisis. This initiation is too epochal for such confident guidance, too global, too unprecedented, too all-encompassing; it is larger than all of us. It seems that we are all entering into something new, a new development, a crisis of accelerated maturation, a birth, an entrance into a profoundly different way of being in the cosmos."
Read more from Shelley Ackerman's interview with Tarnas here.
I love this guy. But do you think what he's saying is true?
"Many people today are more tuned into the weekly sitcoms and 'reality shows' than they are to what's going on in the planetary biosphere or even in their neighborhood community. What will wake people up from this trance? Many experts believe that some very critical events will unfold within the next decade or so. We've already seen some in these last two years: Katrina, the tsunami, the many violent hurricanes and tornadoes, the strangeness of the weather patterns, the melting of the ice caps... And we know from individual lives that there is nothing like a mortal crisis to profoundly reconfigure a person's life. Out of such a crisis a radical shift of values tends to emerge. The whole moral structure of a person's or an entire society's way of being is transformed. It seems to me quite possible that we as a civilization and as a species may face some kind of crisis that will serve to catalyze this awakening. The question is: How severe will the crisis have to be for this awakening to take place? This is where we come in with our free will, our courage, our spirit."
Okay everybody, stretch your arms to the ceiling, roll your shoulders forward and back, and by all means (please!) take a baby bunny/kitten Cuteoverload.com break right here at your desk!
Oxytocin is that yummy hormone released when a woman looks into the face of her newborn, and it effects the "contractions of the myo-epithelial cells of the breast for the milk ejection reflex," according to this site that explains the phenomenon. The hormone can also be released during sexual stimulation or intercourse. Enjoy!
Over vacation, I read a biography of Christian philosopher Rudolf Steiner and picked up the following prayers, which he is said to have recited every day. The first is his version of the Lord's Prayer, and it seems to have very broad appeal.
Father, You who were, are, and will be in our inmost being, May your name be glorified and praised in us. May your kingdom grow in our deeds and inmost lives. May we perform your will as you, Father, lay it down in our inmost being.
You give us spiritual nourishment, the bread of life, superabundantly in all the changing conditions of our lives. Let our mercy toward others make up for the sins done to our being. You do not allow the tempter to work in us beyond the capacity of our strength. — for no temptation can live in your being, Father, and the tempter is only appearance and delusion, from which you lead us, Father, through the light of knowledge. May your power and glory work in us through all periods and ages of time.
Amen.
This next verse Steiner repeated as a mantra. The second line could be deleted or adapted to fit your needs if you are not Christian.
Divine light, Sun of Christ Warm our hearts; Enlighten Our heads; Prosper That which we From our hearts And with our minds Of set purpose Seek to achieve.
Yes, I know there's a slightly obnoxious flavor to some of the folks who strut around town with pretty yoga sacks on their backs, exalting in their stylish spiritual health. But what the heck? Nice idea for a gift, too.
One of my favorite writers, Waverly Fitzgerald, has launched a blog called "A Flower a Day" in which she provides sweet facts about the flowers, plants, and trees of the month, as well as tidbits on their mythology, and medicinal uses. Sign up for the newsletter here. And see what she's already written on jasmine, peony, buttercup, St. John’s Wort, honeysuckle, bedstraw, linden blossoms, elder blossoms, honeywort, poppy, chamomile, and lemon verbena.
A student of ancient calendars and a gifted prose stylist, Fitzgerald chooses her plant subjects by consulting antique floral lists, one of which was created by French revolutionaries seeking to replace the old French calendar (and its religious and political associations) with a calendar that was more practical and down-to-earth.
I know there is so much to read in a day, but reading Waverly Fitzgerald is like walking in a wooded field on the most beautiful, lucid afternoon. You'll feel better aligned each time you touch base with her gentle sensibility.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 12:13 PM | Permalink |
"The longer we practice in relationship together, the more the heat builds. Sometimes the energy is warm; other times it burns. Still, there is only one thing to practice: gentleness, fearlessness, and the deepening of compassion for self and other. I have unshakable confidence in this truth. Nevertheless, I pray that my faith holds, and that strange circumstances don't arise to pull me away from my meditation cushion or my husband. Of course, there are no guarantees."
--from Susan Piver's marvelous article, "Your Path or Mine?" about being married to a non-meditator in the July issue of the always excellent Shambhala Sun.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:51 AM | Permalink |
Got a note yesterday from Pamela Miles, author of "Reiki: A Comprehensive Guide," reminding me that PBS is airing a documentary about five children facing cancer--"A Lion in the House"--tonight and Thursday evening. "Seeing others' conflicts and pain helps us confront the universality of suffering and make peace with it even as we try to assuage it," she says, adding this quote from Shunryu Suzuki: "The only way you can endure your pain is to let it be painful."
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:00 AM | Permalink |
The Chattering boys and I are developing a way they can enjoy unstructured time at home or on the block while I blog (now that school is out and camp hasn't started). I found some nice tips on how to keep your children growing spiritually over the summer on Beliefnet in this article by Kathy Peel.
I'm seeking to instill in my kids the need to repeat the following sentence: "Mom, is there anything you need me to help you with?"
Parents, post and tell us what summer goals you've set for your kids!
We didn't expect to see one. Even the bikini-clad gal at the snorkle shed admitted that she'd only seen two in the last year. But my nine-year-old son desperately wanted to see a sea turtle in its natural habitat, so while vacationing on St. Croix last week, we went to a beach where a particular sort of coral grows that sea turtles like to eat. We all donned our snorkel gear and set out.
The waves occasionally washed down my pipe but I swam on, arm in arm with my son. He seemed to be doing better than I was. Nice fish were immediately evident, but the scenery wasn't all that eventful. In fact, we'd been in the water for about 25 minutes, and I was beginning to space out and get bored when my son firmly squeezed my arm. And then his finger extended, trembling.
So I looked.
And there was the turtle. Oh my God. A young hawksbill sea turtle, flapping along. Incredible. In the silence of the water, we followed. Later my son would exclaim quite accurately, "Its flippers didn't dig into the water like a frog's. It flapped through the water like a bird glides on wings!"
Ten minutes later, Mr. Chattering and the older chattering boy snorkled by and we were able to silently convey our glee to them with gestures that said "COME OVER... there's a turtle here!"
And we all snorkled along with our guy (an adolescent, I guess, about 30 inches long) until we got tired and finally let him slip from our sights. The next day my husband lost the disposable underwater camera that had all our turtle pictures on it. "Don't worry about it, honey. I'm not sure the visibility wasn't all that good." But what I should have said was "Don't worry. The image of that turtle swimming near us is emblazoned in our brains and none of us will ever forget it!"
I noticed something painful this vacation, and that is, I don't enjoy seeing myself in family photographs these days. We're all getting older, right? And digital photography allows us to see ourselves immediately after a photo is taken. "Ahhhh...better delete that one. That's terrible of me," I found myself saying, leaning over Mr. Chattering's shoulder as I regarded myself in the digital camera's tiny screen. "Oh gosh, I look awful in that one too. Delete that."
Can you believe me? As a reporter covering politicians and self-conscious society people many years ago, I learned that WE ARE NOT OUR PHOTOGRAPHS. But when the photograph is of you, this lesson is easy to forget.
For example, I once had the good fortune to be seated next to the wife of a cabinet official at a fashionable luncheon in Washington D.C. This attractive businesswoman was putting some pizazz into the Washington party scene at the time, but as I sat in such intimate proximity--close enough to visually scan her jaw and ear in search of her plastic surgery scars--I could see that she'd rigged her face with the help of her doctors to photograph well, but that she in fact, in real life, looked strangely exaggerated. Big jaw. Cheekbones like the Blue Ridge Mountains. You would not have wanted to look like this woman really, and yet, day after day, the same face photographed beautifully for the society pages. Apparently--can I really dish?--fab Kabbalist Madonna is a tad this way too, or so says an art director I know who once had lunch with her: She doesn't telegraph stunning beauty in person, yet she "comes up" well on film.
So I'm trying to stay calm as I see myself photographing less well than I think I look. I know a lot of women freak out when they see photographs of themselves, and even seek the surgeon's knife to quickly fix the face that produced any unflattering photo images, instead of believing that they are not precisely what their photographs reveal.
It's my hope that continued healthy living will help me look my natural best, no matter my age. More rigorous aerobic exercise wouldn't hurt me either. We are not our perceptions; we are not our chattering thoughts. So today, as the family vacation photos are printed, my mantra will be: "I am not my photographs." The Sufi teacher Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan used to say: "If you could see yourself through God's eyes, you wouldn't believe how beautiful you are!"
The mailbox was brimming with catalogs when I came home after nine days away. I had two favorites. "Garden's Alive" is a wonderful source for every conceivable organic or natural gardening product. I'm about to order its herbicide, Moss Aside, to gently eliminate the moss that grows between the bricks of our backyard patio. I am tiring of my own "moss pulling" meditation, so perhaps this stuff will help me out.
And the "Penzeys Spices" catalog that arrived last week has an array of cool, summery spices and barbeque seasonings. This company's website really doesn't do its products justice, but if you click here, you can request your own catalog full of healthy, salt-free seasonings, the "grill and broil" spices that make summer cooking easy, and spicy "Some Like It Hot" offerings. This is an excellent resource for inexpensive wedding presents!
posted by Chattering Mind @ 12:10 PM | Permalink |
This weekend I attended my friend Oliver's beautiful wedding in mid-state New York. At the end of a ceremony that left most of us in tears (the bride cried as she read her vows to provide him shelter in her heart), my boyfriend turned to me, glowing. "That was amazing," he said. "That was the first completely secular wedding ceremony I've ever seen!" I had noticed too. Instead of asking for God as a witness, the Justice of the Peace officiant called on humanity and nature. Later, when I asked the groom about it, he said, "Yeah, we managed to scrub out all those words like God and blessings and sacred."
It's at these times when I feel sort of left out not being agnostic or atheist. Their ceremony was lovely and perfect and moving. I just wish I could join my boyfriend's enthusiasm. I wish I could join 99 percent of my friends in their belief that we're all there is. I'm not sure how this happened, really, how I ended up in such a secular pocket when so much of the country believes in God (96 percent, right?). Maybe it's partly because I was raised in the United States of New York City, or because I have a master's degree (the higher the degree, the less likely a belief in God), or because if I was surrounded by people thumping bibles and using the G-word at every turn, I might have to run screaming. But still. Maybe the real question is how I ended up believing in a greater presence at all.
But there are, apparently, many options for those seeking secular unions. Here's a column on what to do if you and yours have divergent ideas of the perfect wedding, and another on atheists and weddings in general. Humanist and other secular ministers abound, plus there's this guide on creating an ideal atheist wedding ceremony.
How do you feel about secular weddings? Was yours?
Yesterday's New York Times had a story about audio or video yoga (and other exercise classes) that you can download to your iPod. Some claim to be "customized" just for you and your needs. All are a pretty nifty way to squeeze in a class. Here are some options:
podfitness.com: You choose a class, trainer, and backround music. There's a free trial, then it's $20 a month.
Any minute now (ok, Wednesday) will be the summer solstice. June 21st is the longest day of the year, the beginning of official summer (though I don't think the weather is on that schedule here on the East broiling Coast), and, according to Beliefnet astrologist Shelley L. Ackerman, the start of a rather dramatic season.
In her new "Stars of Summer" story for us, she quotes astrologer Emily Baumbach who says, “Summer 2006 is a time of re-evaluation. Many of us will need to strengthen our roots. We think we know what’s important, but do we really? While our careers may be the focus, it’s soul-growth that is much more essential right now. We need to strengthen our ability to tolerate ambiguity, frustration, and all of the ‘young-soul’ acting out that is going on around us.”
It also looks like it's going to be a bumpy summer for Bush and Cheney, and a happening time for Al Gore and Oprah—and tumultuous actual weather for many of us. To read more, go here.
In a move that will no doubt have lobster claws clicking in crustacean applause (if they manage to read the news), Whole Foods announced today that they will stop selling live lobsters and crabs because it's cruel.
The mammoth natural grocery chain did a seven-month study of the creatures' journey from sea to tank to figure out what causes them to suffer, according to an Associated Press story on the decision.
The article says that some stores even tried out "lobster condos"—sort of a habit trail for sea critters. But they found that wasn't any more compassionate, so now they'll only sell frozen lobster products. It's all due to a European Food Safety Authority Animal Health and Welfare panel that found lobsters and other crustaceans have some "awareness, feel pain and can learn."
"We wanted to treat them less like merchandise or a curiosity to be shown to a kid," said Amy Schaefer, a spokeswoman for Whole Foods told the New York Times last week. "It's not like buying a dozen eggs."
This has drawn cynicism from other grocers who think Whole Foods just can't sell enough of the animals (and is spinning that fact to their advantage), and biologists who say that lobster pain really isn't that big a deal. But animal rights activists are understandably thrilled. And I swear I can hear a collective sigh of crustaceal relief.
I don't mean to harp on the meat issue so much this week, it just seems to be naturally surfacing. And personally, I think it's nice to consider the lobster. I think it's nice to consider the daisies, to consider every living thing precious and treat it with respect. And even if we need to eat a creature, I think it's nice to thank it for the service it is doing you by nourishing your body with its life.
When I was 19 I came across my first SARK book--in an independent Australian bookstore--Inspiration Sandwich. It was definitely that. Blasting with hand-crafted color and realness and spiritual creativity I quickly fell in love with Sarah Ariel Rainbow Kennedy. She talked about how you can create whatever you want if you only follow your bliss, do what you love and believe in the power of benevolent magic. She drew a tiny cottage that she got by coincidence and twinkling, sweet magic. It was exactly what I needed to hear.
Now that I'm quite a bit crustier, her books don't appeal as much--they often seem to be saying the same thing. But whenever I think back to my moment of discovery and reassured my heart felt, I want to tell people who might not know about SARK. I just went to her website (she's been online from the very early days of the Internet), and found a very cool thing among all the colorful SARKness. It's the Jupiter oracle. He's her black cat, perched on the back of a chair. You ask a question and click. I asked about something (it's a secret) and it said: "Risk Now," which felt about right.
I invite you to check her out for a breath of creative fresh air.
A friend of mine is doing the Master Cleanse fast (a.k.a the Lemonade Diet) right now. Seems like the perfect time for an intestinal roto-rooter. The popular detox, created by the late naturopath Stanley Burroughs in the 1970s, is designed to sweep the intestines and give greater vitality. Here's the deal, according to a website with comprehensive descriptions of the plan and its effects:
For a minimum of 10 days, drink:
2 Tablespoons (1 fluid ounce) fresh-squeezed lemon or lime juice (approx. ½ lemon)
2 Tablespoons (1 fluid ounce) organic Grade B maple syrup, not maple-flavored sugar syrup or syrup from companies that use formaldehyde to harvest their syrup
1/10 Teaspoon or more cayenne pepper (hot red pepper)
1 Cup (8 fluid ounces) purified or spring water, NOT fluoridated water.
Drink six to twelve glasses of this lemonade mixture daily. No food is eaten nor any vitamin supplements taken during the cleanse. If you get hungry, have another glass of lemonade.
My friend, on the cleanse for about a week now, is even perkier than before; according to this, you won't feel hungry if you follow the instructions. You'll also clear out all kinds of mucus and toxic nasties. Most people go through a phase where they feel tired or headachey, but lemonade devotees say that clears after day three. I'm considering giving it a try.
Have you done the Master Cleanse? What was it like? Are there other cleanses that you like?
Yesterday I had the pleasure of slipping out of the grey cement city and into green, leafy paradise. It was only for a brief stop up at the Omega Institute— the spiritual summer camp with meditation instead of color war in Rhinebeck, New York—but it was blissful. From the moment we stepped out of the car I felt suddenly right again. There were birds talking, I could smell the world—it was round, and grassy, and new. I commented on this to my hosts and they started talking about Nature Deficit Disorder.
Turns out this is a much-bandied term. One man, Richard Louv, even wrote a book about it, "Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder." In an interview with Salon last year he defined the admittedly non-clinical "disorder" as, "…the cumulative effect of withdrawing nature from children's experiences… Families too can show the symptoms--increased feelings of stress, trouble paying attention, feelings of not being rooted in the world. So can communities, so can whole cities. Really, what I'm talking about is a disorder of society…."
I've often thought about this—that birdsong and weeds and cricket noise and the smell of things growing (other than mold and sidewalk funk), is a nutrient, and that without it, we get soul scurvy. Of course Vitamin N has its downsides—a friend has vicious poison ivy from his garden, my ankles are bitten to bits by mosquitoes, my man-friend had to battle bed bugs in his apartment (not to mention Katrina, the Tsunami, etc.)—yet being deprived, I'm in a position to romanticize it. I regularly stare out my window and imagine Manhattan island 500 years ago. Leafy, and lush, and hilly, quiet, and filled with drinkable streams (Canal Street, now best-known for knock-off handbags, was, at one point an actual canal).
Before we left Omega yesterday, I dove into the lake. As I lay floating on my back looking at the white sky, I told myself to feel the stress dissolving from me—and it did, blooming off of my body and out to the fishes (in hopefully harmless form); I felt distinctly shedded. Later that night, back in my small city apartment box, I smelled the skin on my forearm, and happily, the lake was still in it.
Do you have a nature deficit? What do you do to fix it?
My lovely friend Kerrigan Kessler, a handbag designer, just told me she'll be traveling to the Galapagos Islands this summer to volunteer for Galapagos ICE (Immerse, Connect, Evolve), an organization dedicated to improving health and education systems in the Galapagos. Kerrigan will be teaching kids screen-printing so they can design and sell t-shirts to raise money for much-needed school supplies.
On her end, to raise money for the art supplies they'll need for the task, Kerrigan just came out with two fantastic new bags: One is printed with the Blue-footed Booby and another with Galapagos lava formations. Each sale will generate $10 for the kids. They're made from 100% organic cotton, sustainable hemp, or a sustainable hemp/silk blend. And they're my favorite Kerrigan bags yet. To buy or learn more: ktkhandmade.com/galapagos.html
Deeep breath. Okay, so I just got the word. Four years worth of email correspondence, vanished from my trusty, now untrusty laptop...poof, gone, buh-bye. That's about 5,000 emails from friends around the world—some of whom I won't know how to contact otherwise; the flirtatious correspondence between me and my boyfriend when we started dating three years ago; hundreds of article drafts; work emails from other jobs; contracts; applications; pin numbers; passwords; pitches; links; receipts; tips I wrote up for friends on how to survive chemo; my own letters to friends about my own chemo; the sweet note from Evan Handler about my other blog; other work-related celebrity contact info; the day-by-day stuff of post-cancer survival; all of my graduate school correspondence; Kate and Brett and Jason's baby's pictures. Gone.
It's the hard drive. The guy at the Mac fix-it store said hard drives last three to four years. You heard it folks—-three or four years. All those images, files, programs, bookmarks, and beloved data, sitting on a thin and deteriorating net of digital safety. Luckily I had backed up the main files. The book proposal and photos from the last four years of travel, illness, parties, friends, and family. That's all safe, I think. Just the email, what would have ten years ago been on perfectly saveable, foldable, stackable, storeable paper, is gone.
I keep thinking of the Sex and the City episode when Carrie goes to the Mac doctor (the same place I went, incidentally) to try and revive her data after getting the "sad Mac" face on her computer. She gets furious that people are constantly asking her if she's backed things up. This is the first she's heard of backing up, surprised that everyone else seems to know what she didn't. That's not my excuse. I knew all about backing up. I'd had my computer three and a half years before I bought an external hard drive and backed things up. But not my email. Who knew? That was on a single file called "database," buried deep within the filmy Microsoftian layers. A 500-megabite file. Precious to me and only me, represented by a little inch-long icon.
As I walked away from the wonderful tech guy who saved the rest of my unsaved data just now, I said, "Letting go. This is a perfect opportunity to practice the stuff that we write about here." And so. Partly it is freeing. Before I couldn't get inside my computer two weeks ago, I owed tons of emails. I only remember a smidgen of what those even are, though they were guilt-inducing enough while I knew they existed. And that's kind of a relief. Like forced, extreme de-cluttering. And yet. Breathing. It's just data not a person or an animal or a body part or even a thing. Just pixels. In the form of words, thoughts, love. But I extracted the love already, right? The rest is just digital dust to remember. Oy. Right?
At my still somewhat newish full-time post in a large, busy, tightly populated office, I'm perpetually creeped by germs. I got a big cold my first two weeks here and then a couple of tiny ones after that. Reading those alcohol-based hand-cleanser stories about how the goo may just move around bacteria without killing it, I went looking for another desk-based, more natural option. I found it in perxorganix.com
Perx Organix lavender blend towelettes. Admittedly non-eco (they're disposable and appear to be made on unrecycled trees), they're really handy, nice-smelling, and perfect for a midday hand-and-face wipe-down. To try, visit here.
Maybe you're trying to cut back on your coffee consumption? You could always wear it instead. No, not the way I usually end up wearing food (there's a reason I always have an extra t-shirt nearby), but strung on a lovely necklace. Up close, coffee beans are surprisingly rich and beautiful. And these are strung in a simple, pretty way.
Last night my boyfriend T, the newspaper man, brought home an advanced (unproofed) copy of "Cancer Vixen: A True Story." It's a graphic memoir coming out in October by The New Yorker and Glamour cartoonist Marisa Acocella Marchetto—she's known for her fashiony comics of size zero women in great stilettos with perfectly shaggy haircuts. I've always liked her work and wished there was more of it in The New Yorker's often stodgy cartoon mix of talking dogs and bickering couples. And why haven't they given her a cover? ANYWAY, I was up till one last night and then spent an hour this morning reading it cover to cover.
When the book starts, Marisa is a single cartoonist in New York, skipping along from deadline to deadline, inappropriate relationship to inappropriate relationship when she meets Silvano Marchetto, the Maserati-driving owner of the celebrity-staple NYC restaurant, Da Silvano. On their first real date he asks her to "go steady" (at 43) and soon they've got wedding plans. She's elated. Then, because this is a cartoon, we literally see death around the corner, waiting with a scythe, hood fashionably cowled. She's soon told she has breast cancer and proceeds to go through the nightmarish—and impeccably documented—process of giving her life to doctors, hospitals, chemo, and illness, while doing her best to be vixen, not victim.
As much as it’s a medical and personal journey, it's also spiritual. In one sequence she's sitting at her drafting table remembering people she's known who have died of cancer. They're sitting on clouds above her head explaining why they think they got cancer: "We're from the breast cancer and leukemia cluster 20 miles from your parents' shore house," says one. The next page is filled with strangers on clouds talking about the toxins that killed them, which culminates in, "Aren't we enough evidence?" The next spread is nothing but a giant flame of a candle, "A moment of silence. When you light a candle, you illuminate a soul," it says. I almost started weeping. She also has a cosmic experience at her first Kabbalah meeting and makes subsequent visits to the rabbi, communes with Saint Philomena at a nearby church, has her "(s)mother" tell her how awful her aura looks, and occasionally chats with her one-eyed meditating, literally above-it-all, enlightened self.
My only gripe is her short-shrifting alternative medicine because one crunchy doctor gave her lousy advice.
But it's mostly moving and funny, and lovely and a little bit hard to read. Marisa, it turns out, actually lives a few blocks away from me and was being treated for cancer at around the same time that I was. And her man, like mine, the one who gave me this book, never wavered either.
I can hardly wait until October, when the book comes out in full, blazing color, and you can read it too.
Buddhism has experienced a surge of high-profile popularity among Westerners in recent years. That is, most kinds of Buddhism, the kinds that appeal to our American desire for a serene mind and settled body. But, according to a story in today's New York Times, not all kinds of Buddhism have the calming accoutrements of Tibetan or Zen; Shin Buddhism, a part of Pure Land, once popular with Japanese-Americans, is on the decline many say, because it doesn't have a meditation component. In fact, its founder Shinran, started the Shin 800 years ago because he thought it was better to simply trust in the Buddha and not bother with meditation and other practices.
Now, the article said, some Shin Buddhist temples and churches, though, are offering meditation—some of the leaders are even shaving their heads to better match public conceptions—because, the article said, some temples were finding that 60 percent of potential members requested it. And of course, purists look on this with disdain. Those who are changing the religion see it as simply the sugar that makes the Buddhism go down, a way to grow their congregations and spread Buddhism.
Religion is nothing if not ever-changing; Buddhism in particular is based on the very notion that everything changes. Yet, of course, this seems different, like a teenager changing outfits so the popular girls will like her (and she can spread her own teachings?--ok, faulty metaphor, but you get the idea). What do you think? How would you feel if your religion started adding practices?
I heart Michael Franti, the be-dreaded singer who "stands six-foot-six above sea level" and reminds us in his honeyed hip-hop baritone that you can "bomb the world to pieces but you can't bomb it into peace." (Go here for samples of his boppable, funakable tunes.)
Thought I would mention this now because Franti and his band Spearhead are hitting the road as we speak, touring wildly and widely this summer--including a stop this coming weekend at the Omega Institute where Franti will teach a workshop called "Power to the Peaceful: A Yoga & Music Retreat For Heart & Hand" with Jivamukti Yoga's Sharon Gannon and David Life. That he's being billed with the legendary yogic couple is a big deal.
Franti is also about to release a documentary, "I Know I'm Not Alone," about his recent travels to Baghdad, the West Bank, and Gaza Strip. It was filmed "with his guitar, video cameras and the intent to experience first hand the human cost of war." He's also about to release a new album with Spearhead (July 25th), "Yell Fire!" "The thing that I found when I was in war zones was that nobody wants to hear songs about war," says Franti on his website. "They want to hear songs about connection to people, and songs about love and life, songs that make them dance."
Sigh. Swoon. Tall, peaceful, and outraged. Since Spearhead's not coming anywhere near NYC this summer, will you catch them for me somewhere? In Ireland, maybe? Thanks. You won't regret it; they always put on an awesome, soul-shifting show.
Hi, Valerie here, subbing for Amy while she gets all sandy and relaxed.
Though it may seem like yoga has peaked in popularity, Rodale just renewed faith in the stretchy genre with a new magazine, Yoga Life. The tagline is, "mind, body—get it together."
I just got my hands on the debut issue. It's the first yoga magazine I've seen in a while that seems to compete with Yoga Journal directly. Its appearance and design are similar to that old faithful—very women's magaziney, simple, but not arty—but edgier and with things I've wanted in YJ for years—pop culture recommendations ("Punk Shui" and "The Office") and lots of small servicey (how-to) articles on everything from getting "your man on the mat" to applying the tenets of yoga to your relationships ("don't get hung up on results"). Gone are YJ's heavy cultural explications about yoga. Not much about yoga's roots either. One feature, "Lean Machine" is all about getting that coveted yoga bod—"Shrink your butt as you expand your consciousness." Meaning, this might be the first yoga magazine to have a sense of humor.
One thing that's even further from Yoga Journal territory—in a slightly disturbing way—is the unabashed inclusion of meat. According to the principle of ahimsa in the yamas and niyamas—yogic do's and don'ts—yogis are to "do no harm." This includes not eating meat. As part of an Ayurvedic food story, page 59 has a photo of a shrimp cocktail, page 61 grilled chicken, a whole turkey gleams on page 64, and one of the recipes calls for bacon. It seems to be an admission that Westerners are picking and choosing elements of the lifestyle and combining it with other traditions—India's Ayurveda, Atkin's high-protein, etc. But there's something a little unsettling about tree pose and bacon sharing pages.
Chattering Mind lovers, though, will like the story on their back page, "29 Thoughts That Popped Into My Head While I Was Meditating" by Sarah Miller. A taste:
6. Clearly I am too shallow to meditate 8. I am clearly way too smart and complicated to meditate 10. I want a tuna melt [there's that meat again] 15. In through the nostrils… 16. Nos-trils. What a ridiculous word. 20. Is that some small animal rustling around outside? I am not supposed to ignore outside sounds, only to acknowledge them and then move on. But what if that noise it's making is chewing? Rustling I can move on from. Chewing, I'm not so sure.
Thought I'd continue the meat theme (see my griping above) by letting you know about Vegetarian Summerfest. From July 5th to 9th at the University of Pittsburgh in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, non-face-eaters will gather on the campus--a 650-acre mountaintop wildlife preserve with 40 acres of hiking trails--to listen to speakers, make food, eat food and play.
Maybe I'm mentioning all this meat/veggie stuff to alleviate my own conscience--though I've been pescatarian for years (meaning I eat fish), I've recently begun sampling red meat on the recommendation of a nutritionist and an acupuncturist. I need to build my chi, says the latter. The former says that because I've just recovered from a blood-based cancer (lymphoma), I should be eating more blood-strengthening foods.
I generally find the whole thing pretty icky, but last week I went to the farmer's market, got beef from the happiest most clean-living, hormone- and antibiotic-free cow ever, made tiny patties and froze them. I've been meting them out since, having falafel-sized hamburgers on bread with Annie's ketchup and greens. I feel a bit heavy after, not stronger, but we'll see. I still can't really think about what I'm eating--I've looked deeply into too many cow eyes to feel that it is truly okay to eat another mammal. But right now, I'm one-burger-at-a-timing it.
* Biodegradeable sunscreen. (Mr. C. is actually worried I will think of nothing but skin cancer as I vacation with the whole Chattering family on the U.S. Virgin Islands this week.)
* Yoga clothes. The hotel wisely boasts of classes.
* A good looking hat.
* A small travel umbrella. It's hurricane season down there.
* K-Mart flip-flops with a bright blue chrysanthemum blossom at the toe.
*"Rudolf Steiner: An Illustrated Biography" by Johannes Hemleben. (Rudolf Steiner was a turn-of-the-century philosopher and mystic whose thoughts on education, farming, religion, and death, inspire me. I've never read a biography of him.)
* "Scriabin: A Biography" by Faubion Bowers. (Alexander Scriabin was a turn-of-the-century composer and Theosophist. I've been half wondering if I'm a Theosophist--someone who feels that all of the world's great religious have validity, and that though current events seem dire, they are intelligently moving forward toward the good.)
* A flamboyantly red petticoat (very fluffy!) purchased at a flea market for $15 Saturday. How did it know I'd be there? It is good Feng Shui, divine, and kicky flaming out from under my calf-length black skirt.
* A big glass bottle of Floradix, an easily-digestible liquid iron supplement. But should I risk breakage by packing it? Or fear airport security take it from me? Note to CM reader Fatima Kahn: Yes, I'm going to a doctor who will lead me to an anemia specialist when I return to New York.
* Sketch books, and a set of British watercolour pencils. I'm excited that my two sweet sons are now old enough to really paint on the beach with me.
* Snorkle gear, two swim suits, a map of coral reefs.
* A desire to come back to my blog, and its readers, well rested and all fired up!
In my absence, enjoy the thoughts and musings of Valerie Reiss, Beliefnet.com's uniquely talented spirituality producer. Blessings to you!
posted by Chattering Mind @ 12:31 AM | Permalink |
This hilarious clip of Comedy Central's Steven Colbert dancing liturgically made the email rounds at Beliefnet's offices last week. The music, says Beliefnet producer Laura Sheahen, is a popular Advent song in Catholic churches. Have a quick peek.
The minute my pal Kathleen and I stepped into The Hotel Pennsylvania last weekend, we knew we had exited ordinary New York City and entered an elevated realm. The people milling around effervesced.
"I want an angel T-shirt like that woman's," I said, eyes darting right and left.
"Oh, I'm NOT ready for an angel T-shirt," Kathleen said in a whisper.
Every one of the 500 present seemed to have a redemptive, healing story to tell as they twinkled in their angel scarves, toting their sequined purses around. The registered nurse sitting next to me had saved her own mother from a death forecast by cardiologists through a hands-on healing method she'd learned from a professional "spiritualist." Others said they'd spoken to angelic spirits since childhood and had always felt a little strange about it. Some kind of childhood misfortune seemed to touch many of those present.
Doreen Virtue, angelic author, teacher, and HayHouseRadio.com personality eventually strode down the Crystal Ballroom's center aisle, wearing a fetching sky blue floor-length gown with flared sleeves from her new Enchanted Couture clothing line.
Like Lady Madonna, Virtue (which is her birth name, by the way) has exceedingly long blonde tresses that drape over her slim shoulders. Chi pops all around her, and her ATP assistants (that's Angel Therapy Practitioners) were also resplendent in diaphanous silk serapes and shimmering jewelry.
Virtue gave a slide tour of the 15 angels she generally works with, a wonderful interfaith cast of celestial personages ranging from muy macho Michael to the more androgenous Raphael to that hubba-hubba Norse goddess Freyja (who glides around in a cat-pulled chariot, and apparently endows her believers with the ability to "flirt when sober"). Lots of fasciating information.
The angel Gabrielle is believed to be helpful to writers. Metatron (a non-Google-able angel) is helpful to highly sensitive children (and Virtue exhibited real compassion for kids with developmental delays). Virtue's obvious skills as a psychic who connects warmly with real people came to the fore when she took questions from the audience. When a woman with a depressed father asked for help, for instance, Virtue quickly said the angels were showing her "television and beer." "Yes!" the woman said. "All he does is drink and watch television. He made fun of us today for coming to see you."
"The angels are showing me a little black dog... a small dog." This confused the woman seeking the help for a moment until another family member seated next to her said, "He did have a little black lamb back in Venezuala as a boy, but his parents killed it." Virtue left them with specific ideas on how to cheer the father up, including buying him a small black dog he could love and take care of. It all seemed convincing. And often very moving. I do believe that we're all clairvoyant. My only question is: Do the messages really come from angels, or can our intuition guide us to another's thoughts?
"Let me see what they're telling me," Virtue would often say, referring to her angel friends apparently fluttering nearby. "They just show me things. And then I have to make sense of them." She has a loving, caring manner. But she also seemed really smart. In the late afternoon, we paired up with partners, meditated while holding that partner's hands, and then gave mini readings to each other relating what had come to us--through angels or not. My partner said she saw a silent retreat for me, and that I was putting a lot of energy "out." I saw the need for her to prepare for her mother's death, who she later agreed was "failing fast." I also saw a tall ship from the 1800s on smooth waters at sunset. I have no clue what that was about!
You can try your own experiments. My aim is to just absorb as much as I can. Have you spoken to any angels lately? Virtue says they all around you, even when you have no idea.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 10:30 PM | Permalink |
"A LightWorker is anyone who chooses to be a channel between heart and mind, heaven and earth... There are many theories put forth as to what it means to be a LightWorker, from those who have the ability to work with unseen energies, such as Chi, to incarnated wanderers from distant universes and planar dimensions. The answer to this question can only come from within, when you sit in peaceful contemplation, and can search the depths of your heart for your inner truth."
posted by Chattering Mind @ 12:32 AM | Permalink |
I like websites that sing at you the minute you show up. I wish my blog could sing; how wonderful it would be if every post had musical accompaniment that fit the topic or set the mood! Beliefnet recently linked to the large liturgical music site Liturgica.com. I encourage you to check it out. It sings to you right away and gives you opporunities to hear sacred music and liturgical chant from many religious traditions.
There's also Cyberhymnal.org, one of my favorite web finds. If you're sitting at your desk and you want the kind of lift that only your favorite old-time-religious hymn might provide, Cyberhymnal gratifies! Here is the link to "A Mighty Fortress is Our God." And here's the link to "Battle Hymn of the Rebublic." And this goes to Cyberhymnal's index.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:57 PM | Permalink |
Speaking of singing, do you know about "The Zen of Screaming"? It's an excellent DVD package of singing instruction, voice toning exercises, and downhome advice on how to belt out big musical numbers more effectively created by classically-trained singer Melissa Cross, who has coached many singers, speakers, and punk rock screamers on how to use the voice properly. If you get that achy catch in your throat when you sing in religious services, you're either not singing enough, or you might benefit from a few of Cross's singing tips. Here's a delightful video clip of her on Conan O'Brian's show.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 10:57 PM | Permalink |
Last weekend, I attended a workshop with angel authority Doreen Virtue, and during the day she happened to read Neil Douglas-Flotz's translation of The Lord's Prayer, which I'd never heard before, and which is felt by some to hew closer to the original Aramaic that Jesus spoke.
Allahah. O Birther! Father-Mother of the Cosmos, you create all that moves in light, Focus your light within us---make it useful as the rays of a beacon show the way. Create your reign of unity now---through our firey hearts and willing hands.
Your one desire then acts with ours, as in all light, so in all forms. Grant what we need each day in bread and insight. Loose the cords of mistakes binding us, as we release the strands we hold of others' guilt. Don't let surface things delude us. But free us from what holds us back. From you is born all ruling will, the power and the life to do, the song that beautifies all, from age to age it renews.
Beautiful, isn't it? I'll tell you about the actual workshop tomorrow. I'm still coming down to earth from it, frankly. All the wing-flapping in my home office keeps messing up my notes.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 10:25 PM | Permalink |
"The modern world lies under a pervasive sense of anguish, of being abandoned, or at least experiencing God as absent. Yet events that seem to turn our lives upside down and inside out are part of God's redemptive plan, not only for us, but for the world in which we live. God may be preparing a great awakening for the world, if God can find enough people to cooperate in this mysterious plan."
A reader asked how Tibetan prayer flags work. Well, here's a nice explanation of what they are and how they are believed to bestow positivity and reverence for the Dharma (the Buddhist path). And here are some wonderful photographs of them from FourGates.com.
Here's FourGate's answer:
What are Tibetan Prayer Flags?
The Tibetan word for prayer flag is "Lung ta," meaning "Wind Horse." When the wind blows (expressing the quality and nature of mind) the sacred prayer flag flaps in the breeze.
The prayers contained on the flag are carried out to all beings as a blessing. Seeing the flag also has a practical benefit of reminding people to be mindful of the Dharma as they go about their business.
The traditional five colors represent the five Buddha families and five elements. Blue-space, White-water, Red-fire, Green-air & wind, Yellow-earth. The auspicious symbol images invoke the power and influence of the beings or symbols depicted. The prayer is written in Tibetan and always expresses positive intentions for the happiness, enlightenment and protection of all beings. The expressive blessed quality of the flag rests mostly in the wood block print, which imparts the prayers and blessings. Everyone loves these flags since they are so lovely to display and express such a generous,heartfelt Loving-Kindness for all beings.
Purchasing prayer flags benefits the Tibetan Refugees who make them as cottage industries businesses.
The ultimate website for prayer flag purchase, in terms of the sheer variety of flags available, is PrayerFlags.com, which was founded by Timothy Clark in 1970. But for ease in shopping, even Amazon.com carries them. They are especially lovely flapping in a summer garden breeze.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:15 PM | Permalink |
My nurse practitioner/healthcare coordinator from Olive Leaf called today to tell me that blood tests show I'm anemic. Again. More anemic than last year.
Anemia, or more specifically dietary iron deficiency, is the vegan mom's ailment, isn't it? But I eat meat. It's common among women nearing menopause with heavy menses too. Squeezed between ailing parents and squaking kids, it's the high-fiber, too-busy-to-eat-full-meals person's quandry. But me? Little Miss Whole Foods who blogs about her kefir, miso, and Goji berries? How embarrassing.
The first word I spoke when I heard the news was an expletive I almost never use. I've been on-and-off anemic for nine years. This is getting tiresome. Then I said, "How can I be anemic again? I feel so good, and at a workshop on Saturday, a woman told me my aura was clear and that I looked fantastic!"
"Hmmmm, well, your positive attitude does not seem to be serving you well in this case," my nurse said. She seemed unamused. She's getting to know me too well, I think.
Here's the strangest part: over the years, numerous experts have given me dietary advice, recipes, iron skillet sources, as well as easy-to-digest iron supplements. I get caught up with my iron-rich regimin for a time, begin to feel better, and then I ...I ...I just get busy and assume myself well. I forget to take my iron pills. The two-ounce shots of wheatgrass juice, good for any blood disorder, get further between. Then, I wash back onto the rocky shoals of anemia. And I begin to feel too tired for yoga class. I get spacey, disorganized, and vague. Is this pattern familiar? Are you dizzy when you rise from the couch?
My nurse wants me to get twice weekly B-12/iron shots. "If you think you feel good now, just wait until you get a few of these shots in you," she told me. I'm certainly game! But it's strange. I think of myself as a woman who stalwartly connects with her own body. But my image of my own vibrant health tends to override reality sometimes.
My body behaves predictably. It's my chattering brain that asserts false dominance, and then I fail to focus on the right things.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 10:27 PM | Permalink |
"The angels told me that the invention of the lightbulb marked the onset of new diseases in the human race. Artificial lighting spurred us to extend our waking hours, as we tried to create an endless period of daylight. Lightbulbs allowed us to bypass our natural circadian rhythms of waking and sleeping with the sunrise and sunset.
"The problem of staying indoors under artificial lighting was also compounded by sun and moonlight being filtered through glass windows. The angels said, ‘Being outside beneath the rays of the sun, stars, and moonlight is infinitely different from staring at them through a filtered lens. Your mind and body absorb the light's pure essence and full spectrum only when you experience them directly.’
"We're spirits incarnated upon a beautiful planet that has physically based light sources – the sun, moon, and stars – that are designed to support and heal us. Light is a tool available to everyone, free of charge. When this is coupled with love, the possibilities are unlimited."
"Parenthood is a clumsy yet majestic dance in the flames. When you parent, you fall in love with a person who is always changing into someone else, and who you know will leave you."
Last week The New York Times teamed up with Environmental Defense to produce this helpful guide to eating fish "with no environmental issues" a.k.a. low contamination levels.
Whenever I go to South Carolina, I tell my brother that "everyone" up north is thinking about their health and buying at least some organic products. And my brother just shakes his head and says, "That just won't go over down here." Well, in fact, it will. And it's about to. Because Wal-Mart will soon start stocking organic products. "If Wal-Mart goes organic, where will organic go?" asks Michael Pollan in yesterday's New York Times Sunday magazine piece. Though regular organic-buying customers pay a premium to know that the supplying farms are equitable, healthy, stable, and truly pesticide-free, Pollan says, Wal-Mart will not.
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:07 PM | Permalink |
When Beliefnet.com was launched in 1999, Mr. Chattering wanted to allow anyone to talk about religion and spiritual development. He figured that if our producers got Hollywood celebrities to delve into these subjects, others would follow. Gossipy Hollywood interviews about flamboyant homes and designer handbags were plentiful in "Vanity Fair" or "People" magazine. Beliefnet set out to be the antidote.
Problem was, nobody knew of our website and snazzy publicists found our inquiries easy to reject.
Well, look at us now. Beliefnet.com has indeed branded a new form: the spiritual celebrity conversation. Here's a partial index of celebrities we've nabbed. As it happens, celebrities like talking to us since we want to know their whole truth. Most women's magazines, for example, will usually omit the fact that Goldie Hawn has a guru or that Meg Ryan meditates. This is partly because editors can't alienate their hardcore Christian base that still fears yoga has something to do with devil worship.
Oh, I digress. I just wanted to tell you that our latest celebrity coup is on Beliefnet's homepage tonight. Actor Nick Nolte, now starring in an adaptation of Dan Millman's popular alt-spiritual novel, "Way of the Peaceful Warrior," speaks to Valerie Reiss about how Eastern philosophies and a meditation practice have helped him through hard times. He too, apparently, has a chattering mind. "If you’re living in the past, you’re dead. If you’re living in the future, you don’t exist. It’s all going to come as this moment, now. The future will come as now," he says.
"Hey! There's a rat back there the size of a cat!" I said this to a stranger walking towards me on the sidewalk near the Brooklyn Public Library where the city has been doing some construction lately.
"Really?!" the man exclaimed. "Dead or alive?"
"Alive, I'm afraid." I said, looking back. It was broad daylight, and the rat was ambling slowly down the sidewalk some fifteen yards from us. It had scared the pants off of me.
"Well, thanks!" the man said, walking on.
I turned some seconds later and laughed. The man was down on his knees photographing the rat with the camera on his cellphone. Making the best of a bad situation, I guess. As the saying goes, "When you get lemons..."
"Religion has suffered when orthodoxy is more regarded than virtue--at the last day we shall not be regarded by what we thought but what we did to our fellow creatures."
We're nearing the end of the school year, that time when parents and kids must decide what the heck to give the classroom teacher, that devoted man or woman who works a hard day and is always underpaid. We Chatterings have hit upon a solution: hand-decorated candles are always a hit. And there's that little spiritual lilt to the gift that makes it soar.
Hearthsong consistently carries candle decorating supplies and we've tried them all. Don't buy the pens. The wax that flows out of them takes too long to dry. Instead, I wholeheartedly recommend the boxed flat colored sheets of German wax (just touching the smooth sheets is a thrill), and the wax punchers in the shapes of stars and flowers. Even a three-year-old can manage the task of punching out shapes from the sheets, and then adhering the pieces to a dinner candle using the warmth of the hand. Pretty customized candles can be made on a deadline. It's pure fun, there's no stress. Older children can tear bits of the wax off the sheet (or buy a box of molding wax for this) and manipulate it in their hands to create any design. Last spring, my elder son decorated a four-inch-square candle with flat wax knights on wax steeds for his stage combat/fencing teacher (a macho Errol Flynn-type guy with one pierced ear). When this man unwrapped and beheld the candle, I thought he was going to cry, and indeed he later told us that it was the best present from a kid he'd ever received.
One warning: the wax sheets are expensive, so you must tell the kids that no speck can be wasted. Tiny scraps can be rolled into polka dots, and on candles, those dots look quite festive.
What are your favorite all-purpose handmade gifts?
Tricycle magazine is promoting its thirteenth annual international day of free meditation instruction this Saturday, June 3rd. Groups of varing sizes gather outdoors in predesignated spots. "Whether attended by many or few, the event is always powerful, connecting thousands of silent sitters around the globe," the magazine's website says. Check this listing for locations in your area; the scope is quite amazing. And if you want to quickly organize a gathering in your own region, read the guidelines here. Failing all that, a "Change Your Mind" meditation kit that includes books and CDs by well-known meditation teachers can be purchased here for $75 (a good value when you see what's offered).
posted by Chattering Mind @ 11:35 AM | Permalink |
Chattering Mind is a blog on motherhood, aging, health and healing, yoga, whole foods, spiritual music, meditation, as well as the struggle to manage time and clutter.
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I recently picked up at the health food store a copy of a 50-page periodical called "Green Teacher: Education for Planet Earth," and I've decided that since it's summer and we're all capable of dreaming about how the next school year might be, I'll donate a GT subscription to our Montessori school in hopes of further inspiring the school's receptive management. Articles in the spring issue include pieces on how to help kids in the classroom develop and report back on an indivdual "environmental practice" like timing showers, flushing the toilet less (hmmm, not too keen on that one), biking or walking instead of driving, or helping parents improve home recycling. (One practice I've been observing is taking bottles and cans of drinks consumed in restaurants home to recycle, since a lot of places we frequent don't seem to do it.) Green Teacher also sells books on "Teaching Green," covering climate change, how to green-up school grounds, and how to encourage an interest in environmental studies throughout the school year. Yes, all this stuff is best taught at home too, but support from a school that engages the whole peer group is vitally important.
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"All sober inquirers after truth, ancient and modern, pagan and Christian, have declared that the happiness of man, as well as his dignity, consists in virtue. Confucius, 
