Sunday Sounds: Emerald Rose

We had a wonderful Samhain celebration here last night...one I will carry with me all year. As a result of my well after two AM bedtime and my hungover without the alcohol, sleep-deprived state this morning, today's song is a gentle, wordless offering. :)

Emerald Rose is one of our family's favorite bands. They played at our wedding; in fact, we scheduled our wedding around their availability because we wanted them there so badly.

Look for more Emerald Rose in the future; they are fine songwriters and performers, and do some tasty covers, as well. For today, enjoy Autumn in Asheville from the album Archives of Ages to Come...and please, if you enjoy the muisic, support these independent musicians by making a purchase to add to your collection

.

Another Poem from Maithri...

...my beautiful, loving, and as yet unmet friend, Maithri Goonetilleke, and his amazing blog, The Soaring Impulse. Words so true, so necessary to hear and remember, they must be shared.

Beloved,

There are days when nothing seems right. When every shell you pick up on the winding shore is broken. When the silken treasure slips through your fingers too quickly. When comforts are empty. And the world is noise.

On those jagged edged days, when the wind is screaming for a reason only she understands. And you find yourself all alone.

Turn your face to the sun.

There is goodness in the world, that even the river of tears cannot erase.

There is love in the world, that the numbed armies of fear can not destroy.

Sometimes that goodness is everywhere apparent. It pours from the heart of every moment. From the light of every smile.

On those soft days, love hides in the eaves to drop like sweet honey on your forehead and sings her lilting lullabies in the arms of the winds.

But on some days, Beloved. On days like today....

We need to look, to see.

So turn your face to the sun.

Even when she is nowhere to be seen.

Go inside yourself. Find a speck, a splinter of beauty to be grateful for.
'Yes', the day has worn you. And 'Yes' our mistakes have been so many.

But say 'Thank you' anyway.

Take account of all that is in your possession.

A mind. A heart. A body.

A life that breathes, even if for just one more day.

Now count the eyes that have smiled
at you on your wild journey,
the hands that have held you tenderly,
the ears that have listened,
the prayers that have been made on your behalf.

And whisper your 'Thank you' again.

Count the sky that has watched you grow
with His painted eyes,
The heaving waves that find their echo
in the tides of your breathing,
The little birds that have sung
you their songs,
The stars which have been a lamp
to your path,
and are your
rightful inheritance.

Count unexpected laughter,
Count undeserved grace,
Count Passion and Love making and Dreams yet to be born,
And bow your head and say 'thank you',

Now count the lives who still need your light,

The hungry, the sick, the helpless,
Count the children who will die today
and imagine if with the breath of your body
you could help just
one.

Turn your face to the sun,
And know yourself as a child of the light.

You are the Goodness that cannot be extinguished,
The love that burns through the darkest night.

And perhaps,
In turning
You will see what i have seen,

that this day where everything seemed wrong,
was not your curse,

It was your gift,

Your chance...
To find inside yourself a forgotten 'thank you',

To smile in the face of the grim suppressors,

To stand in the heart of the glowering darkness
and turn your face to the sun.

Copyright - Maithri Goonetilleke 2008

Photo - Linda Davenport 2008

Sunday Sounds: Paul Simon

Sunday again? Yay! That means I get to so another Sunday Sounds post. You have no idea how hard it is for me not to just fill this blog with music every day. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share the music that stirs my soul.

Today's offering: Paul Simon's "Under African Skies" from the album "Graceland". The beautiful female voice is Linda Ronstadt, another favorite of mine.

"This is the story of how we begin to remember..." I am, finally, here in my middle years, beginning to remember what I had forgotten as a younger adult...what I think I knew as a child, though it was discouraged right out of me as early as possible...the divine spark of creation that lives within me and the form it was meant to take.

If you like...and if your musical library doesn't already include a copy of "Graceland", you can purchase a copy at Heartsong Recommends... Please support artists you enjoy when you can.

Joseph's face was black as night
The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the Southern Hemisphere
And he walked his days
Under African skies
This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain

In early memory
mission music
Was ringing 'round my nursery door
I said take this child, Lord from Tuscon ,
Arizona
Give her the wings to fly through harmony
And she won't bother you no more

This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain

Joseph's face was as black as the night
And the pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the Southern Hemisphere
And he walked the length of his days
Under African skies

Blog Action Day: What can I do from the center of my circle?

Today is Blog Action Day. Each year on October 15, bloggers around the world join forces to write on one topic. This year's topic: climate change.

As a follower of an earth-centered or nature-based spirituality, you would think the topic would be near and dear to my heart and show up frequently in this blog. You would be half right. Since you haven't seen a lot of posts about it, you probably know which half.

Yes, I care...deeply. And it's a big, big topic...too big for me to wrap my head around most of the time. I find it easier to talk about basic human rights and gratitude because those are things that I feel most empowered to do something about. My path of action isn't as clear about everything. Scientists and environmentalists argue; politicians rail about emminent doom or scream that it's all for progress and for the best. Both the science and politics confound me.

Since scientists haven't nailed it down completley yet, I don't feel too bad.  Amid the debate of what is and what isn't really happening, my favorite definition or explanation so far is this:

Anthropogenic factors are human activities that change the environment. In some cases the chain of causality of human influence on the climate is direct and unambiguous (for example, the effects of irrigation on local humidity), whilst in other instances it is less clear. Various hypotheses for human-induced climate change have been argued for many years. Presently the scientific consensus on climate change is that human activity is very likely the cause for the rapid increase in global average temperatures over the past several decades.[22] Consequently, the debate has largely shifted onto ways to reduce further human impact and to find ways to adapt to change that has already occurred.[23] (Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Climate_change Retrieved 10-15-09)

Which brings me to the "action" part of Blog Action Day. What can we do about it? How can we "reduce human impact"... or at least make our impact positive?

Forget for a minute the political landscape, power struggles, oil companies, manufacturing...and focus on your personal environment. Picture yourself as the center of a circle with a radius of 100 feet. What is contained within your circle? Let's for a moment consider that circle your Sphere of Influence. What changes could you, personally, make within your Sphere?

I've been assessing my own Sphere of Influence, and I've come up with mixed results.

I'm at home this morning. Within my personal Sphere of Influence, the light is on the bathroom, though no one is in there. My refrigerator is stocked with food, much of which came from very far away. I have shoes in my closet that were made on another continent and had to be shipped here by a variety of coal and steam and fossil-fuel powered conveyences. My car is a mid-sized, gas-burning sedan that seats five, and it usually carries only me or, occasionally, my husband and me.

My Pagan-who-loves-the-earth score isn't very high, is it?

On the other hand, I'm working from home this morning rather than firing up the car for the 40 mile round trip to the office and back. We grew a garden this year, eating and sharing food that didn't have to be trucked or shipped from anywhere, fertilized with compost we made all year, and bearing not a trace of pesticide. That garden patch has already been replanted for fall with healthy turnip greens. My recycle bin, currently overflowing in the kitchen, is full of plastic, glass, and paper that won't end up in the landfill.

The saying comes to mind: "Just because I can't do everything, it doesn't mean I can't do something."

That saying is quickly followed by: "Just because I'm doing something, it doesn't mean I can't do more."

More garden next year means purchasing less food floated over oceans or trucked over road and rail. Moving to full-time work at home reduces emissions from car trips. Seeking out local vendors when possible reduces a little more. And it's all within my little Sphere of Influence.

Also within my Sphere of Influence this morning is my keyboard, reaching out to you to ask you to join me, to raise our awareness of what we can act on ourselves. It's admirable to understand the larger issues in climate change, to take political action and make a difference globally. It's equally admirable...and just as necessary...to take action within arm's reach.

I'm doing it now. I can still do much more. And I'd like to know what you're doing. Please share your ideas and the actions you're taking within your own Sphere of Influence. Together, we can all do more.

Illustration credit:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/notionscapital/ / CC BY 2.0

Four Thousand Beautiful Words

I haven't done a photo post like this in a while, but I had the urge tonight to just share things that have caught my eye of late. Grateful eyes see beauty everywhere. With all the rain we've had lately...well, there seems to be a theme.

A Gerbera daisy in my yard

Beads of water on a leaf on the deck

Cherry tomatoes in our garden

Water droplets on the dressina plant

All photos by Linda Davenport 2009

Sunday Sounds: Gaia Consort

Welcome back to Sunday Sounds!  Today's offering is by a Pagan-oriented band out of the Northwest, Gaia Consort.

These guys are so, so good! Pagan music in general has gotten a lot better in the last few years. Artists are maturing and, more importantly, audiences for Pagan music are growing, attracting a larger group of musicians to the genre. That's good news all around.

I've always wanted to open a Midwinter (Yule) circle with this song...and maybe this year I will. But first, I'll share it with you. The song is "Gathering" from the album, "Gaia Circles." It's a great album all around, as is everything I've heard from them. I also have "Evolve" and will be purchasing more soon. If you like what you hear, I encourage you to support Gaia Consort by purchasing their music. You can find it here on Heartsong Recommends... or at the the band's website. They've generously made MP3's of almost all their music available on the site and encourage sharing to get the word out. Of course, sharing the joy doesn't buy their biscuits, so please consider making a purchase if the music moves you. Enjoy!

From the East and in-breath of dawn
From the South, where fire is born
From the West, where the water is rising
From the North, where Gaia calls home

We have come to offer our story
We have come to open the well
It is balance we're seeking in all things
We have come to offer our selves

Salmon in the streambed, Raven in the sky
Will you be the voice of Gaia?
Willow in the marsh grass, Redwing fly
Will you be the voice of the world

Lizard on the rock face, tongue flick air
Will you be the voice of Gaia?
Heron on the tideflat, Great Brown Bear
Will you be the voice of the world?

Building up a bonfire - calling back the light
Calling up a green man - WE ARE GATHERING
Calling up a storm cloud -calling back the light
Calling up a horned one - WE ARE GATHERING

Here - now

The light on the leaves which brings flesh to the bone
which makes possible love and the dancing allowed
The salt in the sea & the sunlight reflected
like jewels in the mist that the forest will breath
The brush of the skin against skin and the nerve
that will carry the song to the tongue and the mind
The air in my lungs that feeds the fire in my blood
that brings the life to my heart and my reason for being

Building up a bonfire - calling back the light
Calling up a green man - WE ARE GATHERING
Calling up a storm cloud -calling back the light
Calling up a horned one - WE ARE GATHERING

We have come to be part of a healing
We have come to celebrate life
As we wake her, Gaia she's dreaming
We have come to call back the light

Salmon in the streambed, Raven in the sky
Will you be the voice of Gaia?
Willow in the marsh grass, Redwing fly
Will you be the voice of the world

Lizard on the rock face, tongue flick air
Will you be the voice of Gaia?
Heron on the tideflat, Great Brown Bear
Will you be the voice of the world?

Building up a bonfire - calling back the light
Calling up a green man - WE ARE GATHERING
Calling up a storm cloud -calling back the light
Calling up a horned one - WE ARE GATHERING

Calling up a whirlwind - calling back the light
Calling up a Wild Thing - WE ARE GATHERING
Lovers in the Dark Moon - calling back the light
Calling up an Oak King - WE ARE GATHERING

NOW
Copyright 1/6/97 Christopher Bingham

Waning Moon, Falling Leaves...Life Marches On

I'm working at home today, sitting behind my laptop screen at my dining room table. The doors onto the deck afford me a healthy dose of sunshine and an ever changing floor show of bird, leaves, wind, and weather.

Moments ago I heard a rustle and looked up to see a flurry of leaves falling to the ground, shaken loose by the breeze...and I was broadsided by memories of so many autumns, so many cool breezes on clear days, with skies so blue my eyes ached, leaves falling around me, crunching on the ground as I walked.

Autumn has always been my favorite time of year. As a child, I couldn't wait for the days to get crisp and cool. I would put on a cozy if ill-matched sweater and go outside, marveling in how different everything was...how the smells changed, the sounds,the light, the feel of the air. 

Watching those leaves fall brought that all back to me. I can smell the air standing underneath the two scalybark hickory trees in the front yard of a house where we lived, even though I'm in my kitchen. I can feel my red cotton Buster Brown sweater with snaps up the front and my rain boots and warm socks. And I'm crying...and I'm not sure why.

Fall comes with such regularity...no matter how sweet the summer, there is no holding back, no slowing the progression of time. This is my 52nd October...I'll see my 53rd November in just a few weeks...and while I know that there will be countless more beyond, I won't always see them. The autumn breezes that energize me and the smells of fallen leaves on damp ground that thrill me every year will go on. One day, I just won't be there to see it. And I honestly don't know if I'm crying because I know my time in this life will end or because the time I've had has been so damned precious, so sweet and juicy and rich.

I don't know what happens when we die.  Nature teaches me, though, that life is endless...that everything that lives dies...and lives again in some form. I trust that it will be so with me, too, and I'm not afraid. I'm not in a hurry...but I have no fear. If anything, my days are so much sweeter lately. The recent death of a young friend and that of at least two other young men that I'm aware of has heightened my awareness of the brevity of life and my gratitude for every moment.

One thing I do know...sitting here working when I want to be outside dancing in the falling leaves is taking every bit of discipline I have. Life is short and fall is wonderful and leaves make the best waltz partners, much to the amusement of my neighbors. Ah, but what of it? Life is too short to worry about giggling neighbors. 

I'm outta here...lunch hour will see no sandwich or soup today. Instead, I'll be twirling in the backyard, arms flung wide, laughing and singing and soaking up Mama's last dance before the long sleep.

Strike up the band...a fiddle tune, if you please...and make it lively...

Photographs: Linda Davenport 2009

Sunday Sounds: Jeff Buckley and Eva Cassidy

I couldn't decide between two songs for this week's Sunday Sounds, so you get a two-fer!

These songs are written by two immensely talented songwriters. I've heard both Leonard Cohen and Sting perform their respective songs and they moved me deeply. But Jeff Buckley and Eva Cassidy, two gifted singers who died young, "owned" these songs. When they sing the words, something more than the original composition results, something bigger, richer, purer. 


I hope you enjoy this morning's Sunday Sounds. If you like anything here and want to support the artists with a copy of your own, please visit Heartsong Recommends... where you can purchase from Amazon.


First up...Jeff Buckley singing Lenoard Cohen's, "Hallelujah."  You may recognize the song from "Shrek" where Jon Bon Jovi did a very fine job with it. But it's Buckley's version that makes me cry every time. The album is "Grace."




Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do ya?
Well it goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Well Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to her kitchen chair
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Well baby I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew ya
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Well maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who'd out drew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen in the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah <<(held for a long time)
Hallelujah

Sting's "Fields of Gold" is a beautiful song of love that transcends loss. Again, Sting sings his own words admirably, but Eva Cassidy takes this song to an entirely different emotional place. Someone may prove me wrong someday, but right now I don't see how anyone or anything could make this song any better than this. The album is "Songbird."




You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

So she took her love for to gaze awhile
Among the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
As you lie in fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold 

Remembering a Smile

A friend is crossing the veil today...and the Old Ones will welcome one of their own, a bright smile and beautiful spirit. 


Friend, father, husband, brother, son...Kelly will be remembered with love.

My eyes look to the west tonight...rest well, friend...well done.

Kelly's death is a stark reminder of just how thin and fragile is the line between death and life. We go about our lives each day as though tomorrow, next week, next year were a given. How could it not be so? To live, to participate fully in the world requires that we assume that our next breath will follow, that our heart will continue to beat steadily, that tomorrow will see us rise sleepily and start another day.

And yet we know that there are no guarantees. The next heart beat, the next second, is not a given. All that is sure is that our lives in this body will end.

We talk about the sanctity of life and take vast measures to preserve life while, all the while, our bodies are surely preparing for that life to end. As Pagans, we embrace the physical as part and parcel of the spiritual; there is no difference. We don't view our life on Earth as a trial to be endured until we reach heaven. Life is full and rich and complete right here. But it seems to me that we fall short of fully embracing this physical experience because we still haven't come to terms with death and dying.

As I wrote that last sentence, I caught myself thinking, "Who can possibly hope to come to terms with death? Dying isn't natural."  I recognize that thought as a carryover from my Christian background. In the Christian mythos, death entered the world through sin and disobedience. Before the first man and woman disobeyed Jehovah, they were destined to live forever. From that perspective, death is not a natural part of living and accepting it as such makes no sense.

But I don't subscribe to that mythos. When I look around me, everything in nature tells me that death is, indeed, a part of life...that we enter the world, grow, spread seed and set fruit, and finally slow down and die. And in all the natural world, we seem to be the only ones who treat death and the process of dying as we do. We rarely even speak the words...die, died, dead. We say "passed away," "crossed over," "left this earthly plane." We celebrate birth, idolize youth, make heroes of our adults, hide or hide from our elders, and shun death.

There is a gap in our studies, in our liturgy, our literature, and our world view. To embrace the physical life we need to embrace all of that life, including how it will end. Death has been shortchanged in our culture and in our teaching. We need to learn to look sickness, aging, and death in the eye, to meet it as squarely and with as much acceptance as meet conception and birth, to sit comfortably in the presence of our own mortality.

There are few books written from a Pagan perspective that deal directly with death and dying. I know one, The Pagan Book of Living and Dying by Starhawk, and I highly recommend it. I'd be very interested in any other recommendations you might make. ADDED 10/6/09: I neglected to mention another book, More than Meets the Eye by Yvonne Perry.  Yvonne's book is filled with stories of contact with those who have died, both from her own experience and that of others.

I'm going to buy a copy of the Starhawk book and donate it to our local Hospice library, and I'm going to make a point to do more writing and work on my relationship with life from beginning all the way to and through the end. I invite you to join me.

Poetry: Divine Mother

A cherished friend and heart sister wrote this poem recently. Her background is Christian and she has described her spiritual leanings fairly recently as a Christian-Buddhist-Pagan mix. Her words touched me deeply and I wanted to share them with you.

It is, I believe, the first stanza that captured me most. What courage lives in those three short lines..and what wonders await us when we set aside our narrow precepts and believe there could be more.

Come .. open your heart to my voice.
Set aside narrow precepts.

Believe there could be more.

Come .. allow yourself to feel my touch.
Relax in my gentle breeze.
Breathe my scent after rain.

Come .. let me soothe your thoughts.
Know my peacefulness.
Recenter in my calm.

Come .. embrace my love.
Allow me in your world.
Rest in your mother's arms.


(Divine Mother - RJH 092909)