"Water flows from high in the mountains. Water runs deep in the Earth. Miraculously water comes to us, and sustains all life." Thich Nhat Hanh

These days I am looking for what sustains. There are so many words flying around in the airwaves, so much rhetoric of hate and mean spiritedness, that I am looking underneath rocks and couch cushions for what it is that can sustain my spirit, my hope. I have been in the presence of those who have been tossed about by the circumstances of the world in ways that has drowned their internal self-respect. I listen to the nightly news and hear words that cut to the depths of our collective hearts. What to do? What to do?

A friend who has one of the kindest hearts I know said that last week he simply needed to go to the river. To go to the river and sit and watch its gentle power as it makes its way to the ocean."All rivers whether they flow east or west, have arisen from the sea and return to the sea." said Meister Eckhart, the medieval mystic. The river flows, always in connection to where it came from and where it will return. For me, there is such kindness and hope in that image. The river flowing out of the sea and back again reminds me of all the ways I am connected to the greater world and it is an important thing to remember when human words are being carefully crafted to tear us apart and make us believe otherwise.

Each day I have the blessing of crossing the Mississippi River at least 2 or 3 times. The concrete and steel that holds me above this mighty body of water can make me feel separate from its waters.But in truth, I am not.  Over the next days I, too, want to go to the river even if it is by way of a bridge. I want to remember the deep and spiritual ways I am connected to all that is. I want to hold on tight to that wisdom and not let the voices that screech pull me in other directions. I want to be reminded what really sustains and drink deeply from it.

For all kinds of reasons I found myself sitting in one of our local neighborhood coffee shops this morning. I sat having my morning cup watching the literal stream of people coming in to what is only one of the many shops that now dot our little area of the Twin Cities. The thought crossed my mind:"How did we live without these gathering places?" Meetings were happening all around me. People read the morning paper, worked on their computers, couples had conversations and others simply sat staring into the middle distance waiting for the caffeine to kick in. It was a diverse group in age….some in white collar work clothes,others dressed for construction, others in uniforms, kids in school clothes, still others, perhaps retired or on their day off, the casual clothes of weekends. It was fascinating to watch the employees greet people who must be regulars, knowing their ‘usual’, and sending each customer off with a hearty "enjoy the rest of your day."

While other countries have certainly had the coffee house establishment as gathering place for a long time, it is a fairly new arrival in our country.Instead we have had the small town diner or the local pub that has provided the gathering spot for people, that place where news is shared, where politics are discussed, where no one minds if you linger over a cup of coffee for hours. In fact it is actually expected, lingering is required.

As humans we have a great need to gather. As social beings we need those places where we can look around and see a familiar face, pull up a chair and be with our fellow human beings. In times past the local town square served that purpose. As suburbs grew, the existence of a downtown began to disappear. So the evolution that answers our need to gather seems to be the coffee house.In this spirit I believe that what is happening at these establishments is so much more than selling coffee. The local coffee shop is providing the circle in which we can gather, claiming our social nature and building an energy that infuses the community.

So the next time you stop by to get your morning fix, take time to think that what you are doing is perhaps so much more than getting a cup of coffee. Look around at your fellow human beings, your fellow travelers on this swirling, big ball of water and earth. We are in this together and we need a place to gather to affirm that fact….spoken or unspoken, realized or unrealized, it is true.

"We were born to unite with our fellow men, and to join in community with the human race." Cicero

"For the first showings of the morning light
and the emerging outline of the day
thanks be to you, O God.
For earth’s colours drawn forth by the sun
its brilliance piercing clouds of darkness
and shimmering through leaves and flowing waters
thanks be to you.
Show to me this day
amidst life’s dark streaks of wrong and suffering
the light that endures in every person.
Dispel the confusions that cling close to my soul
that I may see with eyes washed by your grace
that I may see myself and all people
with eyes cleansed by the freshness of the new day’s light."
                   ~J. Philip Newell

My mother’s words echo sometimes in the back of my mind. "If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all." When the words are so ready to trip off my tongue…… a snide comment, a raw jab, a pious thought, a vicious insult, sometimes, sometimes, her voice stops me from speaking. And I am thankful for that voice that acts as my conscience and my silencer.

It is easy to add to the world’s "dark streaks of wrong and suffering" with words that hurt. Words often spoken in passion for a cause or words aimed to show the world where we stand on a particular topic can add to the mix of already present negative sentiment that abounds. Speaking with malice or self-righteousness only adds to a swirling dark cesspool that rarely, if ever, has any commitment to the common good. Words flung at another to degrade, demean or demoralize fail to recognize the "light that endures in every person." Every person. Not just those who believe the way I do, act as I do, live as I do.

I am saying this words, writing these words, for myself as much as for any reader. In the days past, in the present days, and in those to come, words are going to fly fast and furious as our country heads toward a national election. Truths and untruths will walk side by side, hand in hand. It will become increasingly more difficult to see what the original inspiration of those vying for office ever was.It will become increasingly more difficult to see their enduring light.

And so in the midst of it all, may our confusions be dispelled, may our eyes be washed with grace, and may we hold gently to the enduring light that rests within as we seek after the good for all the people. All the people.

"I see trees of green…….. red roses too
I see em bloom….. for me and for you
And I think to myself…. what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue….. clouds of white
Bright blessed days….dark sacred nights
And I think to myself …..what a wonderful world.
The colors of a rainbow…..so pretty ..in the sky
Are also on the faces…..of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands…..sayin’.. how do you do
They’re really sayin’……i love you.
I hear babies cry…… I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more…..than I’ll never know
And I think to myself …..what a wonderful world."
                  ~Louis Armstrong

Labor Day is over. The State Fair has closed its’ gates. Today is the first day of school for most Minnesota students. I always think of this great Louis Armstrong on the first day of school. Or at least I have since both our sons had the great privilege of being in the second grade classroom of Mr. Messici. He began every year with playing this song for the students. Can you imagine the fresh faces of those second graders, teeth missing, sitting in a circle on the carpet, some nervous, some sleepy, as they listened to the scratchy, throaty voice of Louis Armstrong? They were expecting perhaps spelling words and numbers to add and subtract. They were expecting to have to recall all they had learned in First Grade and to spill it onto the floor. But Louis Armstrong? Instead of stickers or other rewards to inspire children to do their work,  Mr. Messici handed out Messici Moolah, paper money he had printed with
his picture replacing the face of famous presidents. He also connected
each child in the classroom with a senior citizen in our community and
helped them forge a relationship with this person over the school year Seniors and children sang, ate, learned and played together.
It was a wonderful year in the lives of seven and eights year
olds…….living as a part of a wonderful world.

Our younger son ran into Mr. Messici last week. The younger one now towers over the teacher. It was a good reunion with both, I’m sure, mentally marking the aging process in their own ways.The Messici Moolah our sons earned has been invested in their learning for more than a decade. The interest has grown as they have matured into fine young men on their own paths. The investment has paid off.

As school begins today, I pray that each child will enter an environment where they learn all they need to succeed in the world…..math, reading, science, history, geography. But more than those academics, I pray that they will learn that it is, indeed, a wonderful world. Many children have already seen much evidence to the contrary. For all children, but especially for those who need a kinder, gentler touch on their lives, I pray that they can walk into a classroom where the teacher knows the investment they are making. Someday they, too, may meet their former student on the street and will see the fruits of their labor and their love.

"In my dream
the Angel shrugged
and said,’If we fail this time
it will be a
failure of imagination.’
And then she
placed the world
gently
in the palm of my hand."
    ~ B. Andreas, Imagining World

A failure of imagination…..now there’s a concept. Have you ever found yourself in a situation where there was a ‘failure of imagination?’ So many times, particularly in institutions like the church and government, we suffer from a failure of imagination. We can become so hooked into doing it the ‘way we’ve always done it’ that we fail to see the possibilities, the creative stroke of genius that is right at our fingertips. As individuals we become so set in our own way of seeing a situation that we fail to open our eyes to the gifts of imagination of others around us.

So we get stuck and we then lament why we are not growing, why we can’t find our way out of declines and seeming failure. Imagination is risky business. It is fueled by dreams and wildness and the possibility of failure. But it is also powered by the freedom to think beyond the obvious, to ask the all important question:"What if?"

What if we gave that up and tried this instead? What if we started at this time and not that? What if we open our hearts and our doors in ways we never have before? What if we allowed the little child to lead us? So many ways to ask the question.

How does this question form in your life? Where is your life begging for the power of imagination? It is a long weekend. Perhaps it is a good time to take stock of those places that are stuck in old patterns that are no longer contributing to growth. Perhaps it is a good time to let your imagination run wild…..and then follow it. It could just be the start of something wonderful. You might find the world resting in the palm of your hand.

Enjoy what looks to be a beautiful weekend……………….

"God is always at home. It is we who have gone out for a walk."  Meister Eckhart

The season is changing in Minnesota. Days are shorter. In both morning and evening, the air is tinged with the cool, crisp smell of fall. The inner leaves of the maple tree in our front yard have begun to show signs of red and yellow. And the squirrels that jump cavalierly from tree to tree now carry black walnuts in their tiny mouths. It is at these times of great change when it is particularly wise to be awake to all that is happening, all that is changing, all that is dying, all that is being transformed, all that is being born.

There is much to learn from the changing seasons. There is a comfort, at least for me, in the cycle that rolls from birth to life to death and returns to rebirth. Paying attention to this rhythm of Creation can help keep the nagging details, those situations we have no control over, those things that ‘bug’ us, in balance. By being present to the rhythm that exists in the cycles of day and night, season to season, is one way the Universe reminds us that, in the end, ‘it will be okay.’

Nicholas de Malebranche, a 17th century philosopher seeking to make sense of the work of St. Augustine and Descartes while writing about his own concept of the vision of God said:"Attentiveness is the natural prayer of the soul." I know that so many times my hours, my minutes…..even my days…are spent without much attentiveness. In those days my soul is robbed of its natural rhythm of prayer. What a sad thing!

And so in these days of change, we are invited by the One who is always at Home to be attentive, to notice, to witness. Our world is changing around us and what a sorry thing it would be if we were asleep, or even worse too busy, to notice.

"Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it; Boldness has genius, power and magic in it." Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The last few weeks have been filled with fierce competition. As the world has watched young people…and not so young…compete in the Olympics, we have seen many athletes rise to the dream they have held since childhood. Still others came home without medals. Since we live in a culture that so values competition and winning, it is easy to say things like "they will have to settle for a Silver medal." Most people I know would be quite happy to ‘settle’ for a silver medal or bronze or even just the chance to travel half the world away to do what they love. But no one seems to make mention of this fact.

It was, of course, wonderful to watch Michael Phelps win eight gold medals. The obstacles he overcame to get there are equally as admirable. Yet, the athletes who lost with grace are the ones who win my heart. Winning, achieving your goal with grace is one thing. But holding disappointment and perceived failure with grace is something different altogether.

Several times while watching these athletes compete a wise statement of my mother’s ran through my head. Any time I was in a competitive experience she would say to me:"Remember, everyone there wants this just as much as you do. In these kinds of things, there always has to be a winner and loser." It was a reminder to keep everything in perspective. It was not always easy to hear but it sure made the outcome seem easier to deal with.

We always want to believe that the goals we set for ourselves, those we watch our children set, those we see our leaders set, will result in the light of the winner’s circle. But it has been my experience that those times when I’ve had to ‘settle’ for silver, or even not qualified to compete at all,  also has its rewards.Most often when the goal or the dream is not achieved, something else comes along that wouldn’t have been possible if gold had been achieved. The real goal is to accept it all with the grace and humility exhibited by so many who placed long held dreams on the world stage for all to see.

Another competition is brewing in our country. One which will have far greater implications for the world than how fast someone can run a marathon or swim a lap. As political leaders of all stripes gather over the next few days to make very important decisions, may all gathered find within themselves some of the class and grace exhibited in Beijing. Perhaps then both winners and losers will reach for their best selves.

"From a single grain they have multiplied.
When you look in the eyes of one
you have seen them all.
At the edges of highways
they pick at limp things.
They are anything but refined.
Or they fly out over the corn
like pellets of black fire,
like overlords.
Crow is crow, you say.
What else is there to say?
Drive down any road,
take a train or an airplane
across the world, leave
your old life behind,
die or be born again-
wherever you arrive
they’ll be there first,
glossy and rowdy
and indistinguishable.
The deep muscle of the world."
     ~Mary Oliver

Today’s Star Tribune carried a fascinating article about crows. It seems, according to scientists in Seattle who have been studying this common black bird, that they have the ability to recognize faces. Not just the faces of fellow crows but the faces of their relatives…the human. They recognize which of us is dangerous and they respond accordingly…..with the wild cawing and squawking often heard from above.The scientists consider this an evolutionary edge." If you can learn who to avoid and who to seek out, that’s a lot easier than continually getting hurt." says John Marzluff, a wildlife biologist at the University of Washington.

I’m not sure why this should surprise us so. Perhaps it is just our general belief that as humans we are so superior that the simple crow could not possibly carry so much wisdom and intuition. I will never see a crow in quite the same light again after reading this article.  And I  will certainly pay much more attention when I hear them making a racket as a go by.  Could it mean they perceive me as dangerous?

As humans we might be heard saying, "If you’ve seen one crow, you’ve seen them all." Or as Mary Oliver says….glossy and rowdy and indistinguishable. But it may now be clear that they don’t have the same experience of us.

It really gives you something to think about. Doesn’t it?

When I arrived back from my long road trip over this past week, I did what any self respecting Minnesotan would do. I headed to the State Fair. This time we were able to introduce my mother to the many exciting and amazing aspects of our Great Minnesota Get-Together. From the butterheads to the cow barns, it truly is a feast.

Walking through the poultry barn, I was once again overcome with the beauty of the common, and not-so-common chicken. In nearby cages lazy rabbits slept or looked deeply into the eyes of their admirers. While my mother and I marveled at the sizes and colors of the rooster, one of the kings of the barnyard let out a whopping "Cock-a-doodle-doo!’  Across from us stood two young men, one with a camera in hand ready to photograph the beautiful bird. They both stopped in their tracks, their faces registering someplace between amazement and fear. "They really do that!" one said to the other.

Yes, it’s true. Roosters really say, "cock-a-doodle-do!" This, is of course, one of the great gifts of experiences like the Fair. Those who don’t live on or near a farm, or have never been near these animals, have the opportunity to be close enough to look them in the eye and be awe struck by something others see every day. We have the chance to see where our food comes from, who may grow it, and the link that binds us all together as eaters and growers.

Of course, not all make this connection. But I do. Which is probably why, a trip to the Fair always fills me with more than fatty food on a stick. It fills me with gratitude. Gratitude for those who have given their lives to farming…to keeping seeds, to planting and nurturing all the fields of vegetables and fruits that fuel my body. Gratitude for those who helped birth and raise chickens, cows, and pigs, those who gave them names even though they knew it would make it more difficult to give them up. Gratitude for what links we city-dwellers to those who labor and sacrifice to bring food to our tables.

It’s true. Roosters crow and farmers fuel the heart of this country. May we all do what we can to make sure it is always so and that they are held in the respect and honor that they should be.

"When the farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down, O the farmer is the one who feeds them all. If you’ll only look and see, I think you will agree that the farmer is the one who feeds them all." Pete Seeger

Traveling the highways through Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana and into Ohio over the last two days, I have been aware of the fields that bookend our drive. On each side of the road stands acre after acre of corn and soybeans. I was reminded of the greeting card that offers the words: Congratulations! You are outstanding in your field. The image is usually a field with one person standing alone in a field of identical items. Those items change depending on the intention of the card.

I witnessed field after field of corn. Now I know nothing about corn…its growing patterns, its different types. But what I observed is that certain fields had red tassels and other fields had golden tassels. Driving along it was like moving through a chorus line of tall red-heads on one side and equally as tall blonds on the other. I imagined them in a kick line of dance, Rockettes-style, competing across the asphalt divide.

Sprinkled among the corn was, of course, soybeans. Shorter, brilliant green, they seemed to pale in their dramatic impact on the horizon. Every now and then, however, a stray corn seed had flown through the air and planted itself in amongst the soybeans. Without the benefit of cross-pollination(I do know this much), they had not grown to maturity but they were certainly taller than the field of green in which they stood. They were truly….out standing.

And then at one point my son said: "Look, Mom. Sunflowers!" It was true. There they were. The Queen of Flowers standing in all their marvelous beauty facing the rays of the Sun. An entire field of yellow ecstasy. Outstanding!

Someplace along the road in Indiana, a moving truck had lost a part of its cargo. A rocking chair sat quietly beside the road, flanked by red-heads on one side and blonds on the other. It looked like a good spot to observe the dance of late summer. If someone had been sitting there witnessing to it all, I don’t think I would have been surprised. It seemed like the right thing to do. Outstanding!