All That Is Old And New

In old buildings, I feel safe, most especially in libraries. They have a spirit of place I find lacking in modern buildings. 

I have never had the scared, fearful feeling others get in old buildings. To me, they feel like….home. I can still sense all the living that happened there so many years ago, and it feels so good to me.

So many of these buildings were left to us by local people of means who knew the precious gift was so vital.

No, they weren’t perfect. But, in making certain that schools, libraries, roads, bridges, universities and museums were built, they gifted us an important key to our future. If it also ensured their own legacy, then so be it! 

Nowadays, I don’t see leaders like that. It’s all about lining their own pockets, building power, and eliminating anything that stands in their way.

There is no general national morality aimed at the greater good of our country. This obsession with the controlling of others genitalia, sexuality, and gender expression is not morality. It’s an abusive form of control kink masquerading as holiness.

We are also preoccupied with productivity to the point whete no one can stop being a cog in the mechanism long enough to figure out how to breathe and create something of their own. Hard work is a wonderful thing. But lets separate it from a person’s worth as a human being, shall we?

Our inability to unite for greater causes, and to ensure a legacy for future generations is shameful.

Our ancestors are rolling over in their graves at our empty souls and selfish hearts. What are we becoming?

More About Libraries

About Libraries 

I know I’ve said this 1000 times. I’ll probably say it a million more.

Growing up in the 1970s was everything. Living within walking distance to the Richard Sugden library was life-changing. 

No, I didn’t know that at the time but I certainly do now. 

Being able to walk to the library, and immerse myself in the sweet, orderly quiet was my bliss. Perusing the shelves felt so impossibly good! I started in the kids section, and later moved to the adult section.

The old card catalog was a very familiar friend. 

That library is part of who I am. By extension, all libraries are. 

For me, libraries are holy ground.

Limitless access to books showed me that the world, my Universe, was limitless. There was always something to learn, to experience, to immerse myself in. 

It didn’t matter that I was the child of a beautiful couple who had met working in a shoe factory. We didn’t need money for me to go on these endless library adventures.  I could go whenever I liked. Anyone could!

I learned to keep looking, to investigate, to ask questions, and to expect the unexpected. Because the library showed me so many ways for things to be, I never took anything at face value, and I’ve always kept digging. 

My mom and dad didn’t finish high school. It was really common for poor families to pull their kids out of school early so that they could get a job to contribute to the family. This wasn’t cruelty, it was survival. Both of my parents had food insecurity growing up. They made sure I never had to face that.

My mom loves reading, too. My dad was profoundly intelligent. I always wondered what could have happened for him if he hadn’t had the set of circumstances he did .

Well, thanks to the secure, loving home they provided, I ended up happily going off to the Richard Sugden library almost weekly for years and years.

Everyone should have access to a free public library. This is one of the most important shaping factors in my life, and a significant passion of mine. 

It has truly been a huge source of strength over my entire life, and these significantly challenging times are no exception.

Morning

I think you should sleep in

At least once or twice a week 

Roll over and stretch 

Like the cat does 

Don’t give up that perfect cozy spot 

Take a lesson from the kitty 

And enjoy those perfect moments 

Because they’re yours 

Wander around your house 

With your hair sticking up 

Like an anime character 

And stay in your pajamas 

Until at least noon 

Make a cup of coffee 

But not to wake you up 

Just to get enough brain cells firing 

To read a book 

With your feet up on the couch 

Or maybe play a game 

And if it’s snowing outside 

Don’t even bother getting dressed 

Read the whole book 

Play the game for four hours straight 

Do crosswords 

Stretch a few more times 

Make time 

Just to be 

It helps you remember 

What exactly is the point

Of all of this 

#poem #morningwriting 



A Question For Archangel Michael

One day there was a little witch. She sat on her bed petting the cat. She asked Archangel Michael…

"Michael… You know the church people that I used to hang out with long ago? Are there any of them left who truly follow Jesus? I know a few, but are there more?"

For the next 24 hours, the little witch suddenly kept seeing so many people, standing up for Jesus’ words, and acting on them.

Her heart was glad. For her path was very different now, but such people were once her home and happiest place. It felt good to know that the true work still continued for those on that path.

"Thank you, Michael, said the little witch. I needed to see that. We need all the good we can muster." 



What Happens Now?

Today is Sunday, January 19, 2025.

Tomorrow is the Inauguration.

What is going to happen?

How are so many people not who they claimed they were, both from the perspective of Christianity and from the perspective of what our country is supposed to stand for?

Little Miracles

Lately, I’ve been focusing on the joys in everyday life.   When you open yourself to this, you realize blessings are absolutely everywhere!  

On November 1st, a Brown Eyed Susan (flower) appeared in our yard which hadn’t been there before.  It just showed up, like a little tiny miracle.

Based on the date, I knew our little friend wouldn’t be around for long, and wasn’t in ideal conditions. But there she was, as bright and beautiful as ever, being amazing. We could learn a lot from that little flower.

I took a drive down the road Saturday afternoon to the local apple orchard. They have lots of horses, and it was a delightful autumn day. For once, I, who tend to prefer to stay to myself, enjoyed chatting with and greeting the strangers I met. The apples are crisp and delicious!

Yesterday was Sunday, and I had a chance to go to Broad Meadow Brook Wildlife Sanctuary in Worcester. It was delightful walking the trails,  listening to all the birds and enjoying some fresh air. Perfect in all seasons.

We tend to be lucky in that regard in this area. I can acrss so many beautiful natural places to enjoy. I enjoy going to Purgatory Chasm State Park, Mill Village Park, the Millbury / Worcester Bike Path and many many others. I have always been able to center myself, and find a place of calm by spending time in nature.

This morning, I put together a beef and barley soup in the crockpot, so that it can simmer today and Rob and I can have it for lunches the rest of the week. Cutting up the carrots and cubing the beef, stirring everything together… It’s very easy to get lost in “getting it done“. But I stopped and took a few deep breaths and enjoyed the meditative process of just putting together some food for my family. It’s a physical and mental state that I have always wanted to be in far more.

Reading and writing poetry at the end of the day, and meditating, which Jack the kitty joins me for sometimes, is another favorite part of my day. It never ceases to be a sweet, life-giving moment.

My 81 year old mom lives next door with my brother.  He and I take turns tag teaming all the things that need doing. So many of my friends have already said goodbye to both of their parents, and my dad has been gone for some time. Sometimes it’s a lot, but there are so many everyday little miracles in the laughs and smiles and hugs that we get with our mom, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I have this practice called “10 things.” Anytime I start to get stressed out or upset, I find 10 things that I’m thankful for. Inevitably it doesn’t fix the fact that something is happening that needs addressing, or maybe something has gone awry. What it does do is put me back into a space of gratitude, and my mind is freed up to just think more creatively and be in the moment instead of getting hysterical, which doesn’t help anything. Being in touch with everyday miracles is a huge part of finding your center, and I highly recommend it.

It’s a wonderful way to train your brain out of the fight or flight that acts the same for a late bill as it does for a tiger trying to eat you! 

Ancient Stones

Sitting on a giant rock, in the woods.

It’s been here since the Ice Age, they say, like all the stones here.

I find comfort in this ancient place. It was here before we were, and it will be here when we’re gone.

And there are times when that is the only thing that makes sense to me in all of the universe.

Dancing

A dancing leaf

In the gentle breeze

Held invisibly

By gossamer threads

Perhaps left

By a weaver of webs

The leaf has no agenda

As it dances

And, as I watch it

I find, neither do I

In Whose Image?

There’s no denying autumn here, many leaves have already fallen and many others are turning. This is happening earlier every year.

Of course, that’s our fault. September has become an extension of summer. 

Here, the trees roots are in the Earth. Dozens of species of plants and animals with mutually beneficial, endlessly overlapping, symbiotic relationships thrive here, mostly undisturbed. 

Of course, we don’t see most of that. If something can’t be explained in anthropomorphic terms, it’s invisible, or if we do see it, we decide it’s not important. We are not rooted in Mother Earth. We walk on the Earth like we’re walking down a fashion runway, or like little kings and queens greeting their subjects, expecting to be served. 

We think that we are so far above the life in places like this. Created in God’s image? Really? We are blasphemous, disgusting warts, a pox on this planet. 

Nothing that treats the earth the way we do and uses our intelligence as poorly as we do can claim any connection with any life-giving force.

Humans are created in gods image? Not likely. More like we’ve created him in our own image, and then placed the force of creation in a little shoebox trying to define it in terms we are comfortable with, terms that reflect us. 

Until you can sit in a place like this, drop your preconceived notions and see what creation really is, and really does will you ever know anything about creation or life or holiness for that matter. 

No. I’m no brilliant one, no guru. I’m just a girl who sits in the woods. You should try it sometime. 

*Written at Purgatory Chasm State Park, Sutton MA

Sittin’ On Earl’s Bench

There’s a fern by the wall

With her bright green hue

And the sweet pink roses

Are still going strong too 

Mugwort dwells in the corner ‘round the side

Doing as she pleases 

With no need to hide 

The burning bush up front 

Just beginning to get some red 

Causing my summer loving friends to feel some dread

Crow and Blue Jay mouthing off 

But you won’t find me needing to scoff

Warm in the sun

Cool in the shade 

September is beautiful 

Today I wouldn’t trade

Cars going by 

Since I don’t live in the woods 

Although quite frequently 

I feel like I should 

Sitting on this bench 

In my own little space 

It may not be a palace 

But it puts a smile on my face

Chilly Night In The Neighborhood

The air has that early fall crispness 

The land anchors life 

The trees, perfection in liminality

Some of these houses 

Here for more than a hundred years 

Smiling spirits 

They’ve witnessed a thing or two

Time itself 

We cling to it’s structure 

Yet it doesn’t exist 

All that has been 

Is, still and always 

Energy never dies, it simply changes shape 

Essence and truth 

The pulse within

It’s all available to you 

The library of the Universe 

Hoodie and a hot tea

Hands around the mug

Continuity 

Life

The Neighborhood? 

It’s bigger than you thought 

Chilly night in the neighborhood 

History, Books and Me

I have always had a very strong affinity for history and nature. I feel safe, connected and inspired either out in nature or in old historical buildings.

Libraries are my very favorite place. Especially little town libraries that have been kept up for the last 150 years or so. It gives my heart so much joy to see these buildings being cared for and retained as an important part of the community.

Born on the cusp of the beginning of Gen X, I came of age at a time when Reaganomics opened the door to the life that we are all living now. Productivity and getting ahead in life was how you proved your worth and your permission to be on the planet.

I have always been someone who is far more on the creative side than the logical side.(Despite my huge affinity for a certain pointy eared first officer on Star Trek) I’ve never been the girl who was good at assembly lines, rushing, multitasking, putting out as many cogs per hour as possible to prove your worth. Yet, ironically… It’s pretty much how I’ve made my living since 1982.

What am I drawn to? Quiet, peace, books and reading, taking care of my home. Time in nature. Genealogy. History, especially the history of New England. 

For me, slow, peaceful, quiet, well ordered, simple, and understated are life giving and good.

Rushing, loudness, boisterousness, partying, excessive focus on productivity, disorder… To me these things are uncivilized, draining, disgusting and bad.

More irony. As a disabled person in the workforce with responsibility for several elderly and disabled relatives, I have never been able to build a life based on the things that I consider life-giving and good. it isn’t really anyone’s fault, and heaven knows it’s not from a lack of trying. It’s just how things ended up.

As a result, as an adult, the world has never been a safe place for me. I know dozens of people who feel like this, the moment one of us finds someone else like us, we have these quiet conversations and admit these things are true.

To bring it back around to history, and libraries. I think of all of the work that went in to our forefathers making sure that each little town here in New England had a library.  In most cases there was one person who donated the library, or few concerns citizens who made sure that it happened.

I love walking through libraries, museums, cemeteries, old bookstores, historic old buildings. I love driving through neighborhoods where the houses are over 100 years old. I have always felt like a transplant from another century, because this one has always been much too harsh and much too quick for me. I long to return to a time when things were done in a more thoughtful manner, and where something other than profit ruled.

Sometimes it feels like too many people these days forget the work that went into things that we take for granted. Things like the library in your town. But more than that, a majority of our ancestors did very hard work with their hands. We are here because of that work. and sometimes when you get a generation or two who have not had to do that kind of work, it feels like maybe we forget - well I haven’t.

So this morning, I will sit in the library till it’s time to go home for lunch before my work shift. I will absorb the vibes in this place and feel comforted being surrounded by books. A place with books in it will always be a good place to me. Every single book is a different world. A place like this is like a portal to everything you could possibly imagine. It feels like safety, it feels like civilization, it feels like goodness, it feels like good sense, it feels like happiness.