Participate in the Pagan Census Project

If you identify as Pagan in any of its various forms, please consider completing the Pagan Census Survey. This survey was first conducted 20 years ago and is being conducted again to measure change.

I'll be completing the survey later today, and I hope you'll add your answers.

And here in the United States, today is Labor Day. May the labors of your hands and hearts be blessed; may you always find something to be "about"; and may you know deep, restorative, rest. Blessings!

Love is a Verb - Possible Dreams International

“Each time a person stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, these ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.” -- Robert F Kennedy

"Love is a verb or it's a lie." - Jim Davenport

When people put love into action, it's worth celebrating. Whether it's a tender word, a loving touch, a meal, a pair of shoes, or a silent prayer offered when no other action is available, acts of love ripple and vibrate the web of life.

The folks at Possible Dreams International are putting their love into action in a time and place where it is sorely needed. One of my heroes in the blogosphere, Maithri Goonetilleke, and his fellow doctors, nurses, and other caregivers have formed an organization to further the work they've been doing all along in Swaziland.

Swaziland is an area of Africa with the largest prevalence of HIV/AIDS in the world. According to Maithri, the community of Setiki in Swaziland has more coffin salesmen than grocery stores. The stories he shares in his blog, The Soaring Impulse, are stories of love, courage, and hope.

I know all too well the despair of feeling like I have no power, no way to influence and alleviate suffering. I don't have a lot of extra money. I can't go to Swaziland. Each time I think these thoughts, I remind myself that even when I don't have a coin or an hour, I have a voice. I can speak loving words; I can tell the truth; I can spread the word.

Please take a moment and visit Possible Dreams. Learn about this fledgling organization and the beautiful people they serve. They are love in action, a verb and a truth.

Spread the word.

Come September (Love Lives On)

You’re leaving, aren’t you?

Yes.

Why?

How many times must we go through this? I’m tired. I’m done. There is nothing more I can do here.

But I love you! How can you just leave like this? What we have is so…so…intense.

Intense…that’s a good word for it. Too intense. All on, all the time…nobody can sustain that forever. It’s too demanding, too draining, too…

Too what? Too much for you? Fine…go! And I don’t ever want to see you again!

[raised eyebrow] Careful…

I just can’t stand to see you go! Gods, we were hot! Sizzling days…steamy nights…fertile and lush and…

Yes…yes, we were all that and more. But don’t you see? It can’t last. It never does. Haven’t you felt the cooling? Our nights aren’t quite so steamy these days. Let’s face it…things change…I’m losing my luster and I know what’s coming for me…and for you. If we kept going like we have been, we’d burn ourselves up completely. No one can take that kind of passion, that heat, forever.

You’ll be back, you know. You always come back.

[smile] I will be back. And when I see you next, you’ll be rested, refreshed. You’ll have slept through the cold nights and walked quietly through the short days. Ahh, but that’s when I can’t stay away from you! Your heart will be young once more, your blood singing in your veins, open and aching for me. And I’ll come to you, young and fiery, unable to get my fill of you. I’ll take you over and over and…

Enough! Stop! If you keep talking like that, I'll burn up right now!

Ohhh...I know you have to go. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the changes in me, too…how tired I look, my color…I know you’re going. Just don’t forget…don’t get lost in the cold, dark nights when the wind howls.

I'll think of you every morning when I see the sun rise over the fields. I'll walk outside and see my breath…and I'll dream of the days when you’ll take my breath away. I know you’ll be back…I have to believe you’ll be back.

I’ve always returned and I always will. Love lives on. Rest well, Beloved…you won’t get much sleep when I come back. [grin]

I’ll be here, my Love…waiting…with a crocus in my hair and a daffodil in my hand. Just don’t be late, ok?

I never am. Look for me as the days lengthen again. You’ll feel me before you see me, in the sudden softness of the morning, the song of the stream bed. Your scent will change as I grow closer, and I’ll know you’re ready to receive me again. We’ll make love and babies and grow full and abundant together again.

Go…go before I beg you to stay. Go, my love…and hurry home.


All photos by Linda Davenport except top (valley overlook) by Elisabeth Hon.

Stop for Milk, Get a Cotton Candy Bonus

Cotton candy sunset, originally uploaded by Heartsong Images.

I stopped for milk on the way home from work recently. None too happy with having to stop, I was grumbling to myself as I left the store...but not for long. The All gifted me with a cotton candy sunset. What a lovely surprise!

Take a Walk With Me...

My day started with a walk in the woods behind our home. Nothing spectacular happened...unless you count just being in the woods as the sun climbs over the ridge...and I do.

Come with me...

Spider webs abound. I didn't have the heart to damage this one. She'd already taken a hit (near the top) and her tasty breakfast was trapped in the center. I changed my entire route to avoid tearing up her web...

...and because I changed routes, I met this little guy on the path. We always talk about turtles being slow, but his one was right spritely! He slowed down a bit when he figured out I wasn't going to grab him, but not before he covered some ground.

Sometimes the simplest things are really pretty. I don't even know what this plant is, but the gracefullness of the slender stems and tiny leaves just caught my eye.

Another gift...a tiny trumpet vine blossom...very small but the bight orange color jumped out at me.

And I got to indulge my fascination with leaves. There is something just so damned beautiful in the lines and patterns. Blackberry leaves, I believe, and don't you love those sawtooth edges?

Finally, my favorite sight of the morning...a dead branch hosting a lively bunch of lichen and moss. There are at least three different types on this one branch, and they're so pretty. (click on the photo to get a better view) The branch is "dead"...or is it? It's supporting all that life. Who's to say?

Thanks for letting me take you along. If you get a chance, go take a walk outside and see what you can see. It's an amazing world.

Photos by Linda Davenport, August 2009

Red Tailed Hawk

I work downtown, and we have some of the most interesting wildlife here.  Yesterday, a red tailed hawk who frequents the area perched and posed for me just outside my office building. What a treat! Click on the pictures for a larger view. 

Click here to learn more about these beautiful birds.  Red Tailed Hawks are also powerful totem animals.

These hawks are exceptional hunters, and falconers prize them.  Experienced falconers prefer to acquire a red tailed hawk in the first year (it may actually be illegal to take them for falconry after the first year). Beyond that first year, the hawks have picked up "uncooperative adult habits." 

Isn't it the same with us? We have such potential, yet often our "uncooperative adult habits" prevent us from taking our talents and gifts as far as they can go. It's harder to unlearn behavior in later years; paying attention to wisdom and shaping our talents early in life is easier than overcoming years of thought patterns and behaviors that don't serve. We have such power if only we can shed our uncooperative habits!

Thank goodness it's never too late!  An adult Red Tailed Hawk may never become a falconer's bird, but I can keep working on me to the end of this life and beyond. That's good...I'll need all the time I can get.

Gracious Goddess, help me to say yes to this day and the lessons it brings, to pay attention, and to turn around the less-than-productive behaviors I've stockpiled through the years. If I can get rid of the years of accumulated crap, I should have room for just about anything you want to send me...but I'm going to need help clearing out the space.

"For all that has been - thanks. For all that will be - yes." (Dag Hammerskold)

Photos by Linda Davenport, August 2009.

Photo published in Schmap!! San Francisco

Everyone likes a compliment, and I just got a nice one.

The folks at "Schmap!! Beyond the Map" selected one of my photos for publication in their online city guide to San Francisco. That's a very nice compliment!

It's also a rather interesting business model. They apparently search Flickr and possibly other photo sites for pictures. When they find ones they like, they create a "short list" and invite photographers to submit those photos. They don't have to pay for photography, and photographers like me get a photo credit and some exposure. That sounds like a winner all around to me.

You can view the guide and my photo here.  And I have to say the Schmap people do a great job with their guides. Their walking tour information for San Francisco is excellent, right down to guidance on which bus to take if some of the hills on the route are a bit daunting.

Thanks for letting me share the joy!  Oh, and here's the photo used in the guide:

Remodeling Progress!

I've found a great new WordPress template for the Hymnal, and I'll be calling on my friend and web crafter extraordinaire, Julie at LadyCelt Designs, to help pull it all together soon. I'm so excited!

The move will take a little while, but I don't want to dally long, so please watch this space for news of our new address. Getting fancy new digs for the Hymnal won't be any fun if you don't come along!

Back to packing!

Pay Attention...Just Pay Attention

I was running a bit late this morning. That's not terribly unusual, sad to say, but this morning my lateness was compounded by a need to run an errand five miles in the opposite direction from my usual work route, and to stop for gas. 

My errand route took me almost due east. As I'm racing along, I top a hill and catch the most beautiful sunrise...a true take-your-breath-away vision of gold, cream, white, grey, blue, and silver.  I gasped out loud and immediately reached for my camera, remembering almost as quickly that another errand on my list for today is getting batteries to replace the absoultely dead ones in the camera. I reached for my cell phone to grab a quick snapshot, remembering that I had left it at home and, in the interest of time, declined to go back into the house and pick it up.

It was about then that I heard that quiet little voice saying, "Just enjoy the sunrise!" And I felt a little embarrassed that I was, indeed, so caught up in trying to capture the moment that I was letting it get by me. I was forgoing the beauty of right now in my frenzy to save it for later. What kind of sense does that make?

Fast forward ten minutes...my errand complete, I raced back in the other direction and stopped for gas at a little country convenience store near my home. I was looking ahead, trying to figure out if there were pumps open and which one to aim for...and not noticing the enormous bump-and-dip combination at the edge of the parking lot, the one that I rolled over just slightly faster than I should and nearly ripped the bottom out of my car.  Beneath the cries of, "Oh, s*it!" I heard a by-now familiar voice saying, "There you go again. Pay attention to what's happening now and let the next few minutes take care of themselves!"

Embarrassment gave way to chagrin and edged toward humilliation when I realized the nice gentleman about to enter the store saw the whole debacle. He cringed and hollered (that's the only word for it), and I immediately flashed with anger, assuming he was laughing at me. My little voice was having a very busy morning, and once more nudged me. "You did it; why are you getting mad because he saw it? Just own it, Linda...just own it."

I went in the store. The fellow was standing in line with his purchases. He must have known I would be embarrassed; he didn't make eye contact. I said, "Did I scare you when I nearly took the bottom out of my car?" He relaxed, laughed, and said, "No, I was just hurting for your car!"  The laughter took the tension right out of the moment. He and the clerk shared stories about how many people have done the same thing, how you have to slow to a crawl to cross that spot without bumping, and how one young lady ripped her bumper off going over that spot. I felt a lot better by the time I'd paid for my gas.

Sorry I don't have pictures of the beautiful sunrise to share with you, but I think maybe I needed the lesson more than you needed the photos. Maybe next time.

All Gratefuled Up and No One to Thank

Church signs have caught my eye several times of late. Here's the latest:

Pity the poor atheist who feels grateful and has no one to thank.

If you've been reading here for any time at all, you know that gratitude is one of the fundamental spiritual principles of my life. There are times when I am so filled with gratitude, with appreciation and receptiveness, that I feel like I might just burst, a somewhat rounder than usual human shaped nova of golden light, a giant gratitude sparkler sending little bits of happy light everywhere. It's an intense feeling, as close to ecstatic communion with the divine All as anything I know.

I don't know why someone would think that not having a specific entiy toward which to speak words of thanks would reduce the beauty or intensity of the emotion.

If you receive an anonymous gift, something that you really need or want, are you miserable and piteous because you have no one to thank?  You might be driven mad with curiousity. You could, if you're the cynical, suspicious sort, be so consumed with identifying the source that you fail to appreciate the gift. Or, I suppose, if you're one who absolutely cannot rest until you've sent a couteous thank you note, you might lose sleep until you've fulfilled that obligation.

In my spiritual path, gratitude is not a command and thanks is not an obligation; neither are they optional. Gratitude is not a religious tenet; it's a spiritual principle, both an action and a result, a universal cause-and-effect that applies to everyone. It's a state of open, receptive awareness, one that allows blessings to flow through our lives and opens the way to connect with the Divine in everyone and everything. It is also the emotion that results from that connection and from awareness of our many blessings. And the idea that people who don't believe in deity deserve pity because they feel gratitude and don't have a god to whom they can express that gratitude indicates a lack of understanding of the principle.

There's more than one way to express gratitude. Saying thank you to the source of our gifts is one way, a good one, but I'm a bigger fan of "paying it forward." What better way could there be to acknowledge our gratitude and expess our awareness and appreciation for the good things in our lives than by helping others, by being a blessing in their lives? A personal thank you to your Source is nice; allowing that Source to work through you in the lives of others is divine. If you serve the All, what does it matter if you call on a god or not? Whether you serve in the Name of Love or in the name of love, the principle is the same.

There is no need to pity the athiest or anyone else who feels gratitude. Gratitude is its own reward, a self-fueling cycle of awareness, appreciation, and action.  A person who is truly grateful is open to receive and willing to repay, with or without a named god to thank for it. The universal principle of gratitude doesn't recognize labels like theist/athiest, believer/non-believer. Like the sun that shines on both good and evil and the rain that falls on the just and unjust (Matthew 5:45), the joys of a grateful life are available to everyone.

That's something we can all be grateful for.

Do You Speak 'Mater?

Do you ever have those moments when something you don't even know you know comes gently into your mind, into your set of knowledge, as if it had always been there? Comfortable, old knowledge...something you know in your skin, in your breath...know without effort.

I am not a knowledgeable gardner. My beloved is far more knowledgeable than I am about these things, and even he will quickly tell you he's still learning.  But once in a while, I feel so intimately connected to and aware of the plants, the soil, the blossoms and the ripening fruit. It feels like knowing a person, someone you're so intimate with, even if you can't articulate what you know about them, you just know. Ya' know?

Yeah, sounds a bit woo-woo...but it's a real feeling just the same. It's like a language I think I've forgotten that floats back into my conciousness from time to time. My father spoke that language. He loved growing things...loved the dirt, the green, and the beautiful harvest that fed his family and his soul.

I feel him sometimes...like the other day when I placed the umpteenth tomato in the kitchen windowsill to ripen. The window was full and I swear I heard him chuckle, "Whatcha' gonna do with the rest of them 'maters in the garden, gal? You need a couple more windows!"

Dad, I've only got one kitchen window, but I have lots of friends who are enjoying these tomatoes, just like your friends did. Briana and Sarah both love 'em warm, fresh off the vine. We eat 'em with breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I even made spaghetti sauce with my own fresh tomatoes last week.

Ah, but what am I telling you all this for. I'm sure you already know.

Photos: Linda Davenport 2009

The Big RE-RE

Since I started this blog a few years ago, I’ve managed to attract a smattering of intelligent, thoughtful, regular readers and a fair number of equally delightful drop-ins. I am grateful for each of you and for each visit you make to my little choir loft. My posts have ranged from personal rants, to pedantic lectures in print, to sharing things I find on the web or photos from my ever-present camera. In everything, I’ve tried to have a positive impact, but I’ve never had a definitive goal or purpose for my blog. I’ve simply shared whatever has been on my mind and in my heart.

Lately, through introspection and fantastic conversations and examples with/of my 3AC writers’ group sisters, I’ve realized that I do have some specific goals for this blog that are very important to me, goals that reflect what I believe and how I live. I’ve also realized, through interactions with readers here at the Hymnal, that what I say here is heard and makes a difference. Since those goals I mentioned are all about making a difference, what better use for this blog could there be?

It appears, then, that it’s time for a big Re-Re: Revamp, Relocate, Redecorate, and Reintroduce. In the next few weeks, Heartsong’s Hymnal is going to get a complete overhaul, one that will allow me to keep singing about things that matter most to me. Your voices, the comments that make such beautiful music here, will have a more prominent place in the pages, more visible and more conducive to good conversation.

One of the things I will be doing is reintroducing myself. I may offer you more than you want to know. Feel free to put your fingers in your ears, squeeze your eyes shut, and sing, “La la la la la!” until the uncomfortable moments pass. It won’t hurt my feelings. ::grin:: On the other hand, if you’re going to sing with me, you deserve to know who I am. I hope you’ll feel free to share yourselves with me, too.

Updates are coming! Be patient, my friends…and thank you for adding your voices to the choir. I hope you’ll keep singing as we turn the page.

Buck Stopping, Consciousness Shifting, Center of the Universe

That's me.

And you.

And we need to get busy. The world is waiting.

I posted recently about the tendency for groups and individuals to identify themselves as much by who hates them as by who and what they are. Several thoughtful comments (Alli Silverwing, Sitara, Zephyr - thank you!) netted a host of theories as to the whys of the behavior. In response, Sitara Haye asked, "How do we change this dynamic? What can we do about it?"

So here's my answer to what we can do about this and other behavioral dynamics that undermine the mental and emotional health of our big ol' beautiful world:

Stand up and take your rightful place at the very center of the universe, the pivot on which the world turns. We need a major shift in the world consciousness and it's up to you and me to do it. The buck stops here, pal. No finger pointing. No committee meetings to assign responsibilities. I am and you are the buck stopping, consciousness shifting, center of the universe and it's time to kick some butt.

To affect a world shift, we have to use the best tool we have or ever will have -- the ability to change ourselves. We have to look honestly and deeply at ourselves and our behaviors and change them to model the behavior we want to see in the world.  It's harder than it sounds; I'm as aware as anyone how much easier it is to talk about change, to say we need a major world shift, than it is to do it. I also believe that there is no other way.

If we say we want peace, are we living peacefully?
If we believe community is important, are we living in a way that supports community?
If we believe the we are all connected, do our actions reflect our responsibility to the web?

While we're changing ourselves to be the future we want to see, we also have the responsibility to use whatever talents and abilities we have to influence others to change.  We cannot make them change, but we can't keep looking at ourselves in the mirror if we don't do everything we can to influence positive change. The key is to keep the priority straight, to remember to work from the inside out.  All our efforts to influence positive change in others, no matter how smooth the presentation or how persuasive the words, are undermined if we don't hold ourselves to the same or higher standards.

Yeah, it's hard. Being the center of the universe is not easy, but it's the only way. Start today.

"Everything that is good and beautiful..." from The Soaring Impulse

One of my favorite bloggers and a personal hero, Maithri Goonetilleke, posted yet another beautiful reminder of our connections and our resonsibility to each other. I hope you read this wonderful story that includes the words...

Sometimes people tell me that the little things we do, don't count. That they are lost to the winds, like little leaves in a storm.

With all my heart, I know they're wrong.

Its like my father has always said: "Humanity is a spiders web. Touch the web at any point and the whole web vibrates."

There is so much more on The Soaring Impulse, and Maithri's heart is bigger than my little words can convey. Please, go meet him and feel the loving vibrations he creates on our web.

I am not "loud" and my blog voice is not widely heard, but I will add my voice to the music at The Soaring Impuse. I am grateful to sing loving harmony with my friend Maithri.

If you call yourself a Wiccan...

...then you really need to visit Sitara Haye's beautiful website and join in the discussion there. Most recently, this post about lineage verses self-made Wiccans caught my attention. I've already voiced my opinion there, and I am eager to read the comments of others...including you.

Sitara's entire site is a wonderland and not to be missed. Go check it out and, should you be inclined, join in the conversation. There are some GREAT discussions going on! Her site is beautiful, too, and is the work of a good friend at LadyCelt Design.

That's it for now...just passing along nuggets of wisdom and beauty where I find them.  Blessing of joy and peace to all.

Six Men Won't Fit In a Bucket

Unhappy because power had not been restored to her home after a damaging storm, an irate customer called her local power company to complain.*

Customer: I can see the truck from my window, and there are six men out there, but only one of them is in the bucket fixing anything on the pole! The rest of them are just standing around on the ground! Why aren’t those other men working?

Power employee: Well, ma’am…all six of them won’t fit in the bucket.

Customer: Oh. (click)

As a former power employee myself, the story made me laugh, and then it made me think: How many times do we get all worked up because all the men aren’t in the bucket?

The caller had a single point of view – her power was off and she wanted it back. She had limited knowledge – she knew that power was reconnected by the man at the top of the pole, but she knew nothing about the number of men it took to remove and replace a damaged pole, cut and move fallen limbs, or ensure the safety of the guy in the bucket. She had limited perspective – her pole was the only one she could see. Yet with so little to go on, she was sure there was slacking going on and that said slacking was the reason she was still in the dark.

How often do we do that? How often to we get all fired up about a situation before we really know what’s going on?

So often, situations go like this: Someone does something that seems offensive to me. I have limited knowledge, limited perspective, and only my own little problem in my sights. So what do I do? I invent all those other details, filling in the blanks with just enough information to support my righteous indignation, making up a story that supports the offense theory and fuels my ire. The more I think about it, the madder I get!

Why is that? In the best of all worlds, we would have a wider view, one that made it harder to focus on a potentially offensive act or word. We’d resist feeling offended until we had all the facts and knew the intent and context from the other person’s perspective. That might require a conversation, some questions, some honest listening, but it would be worth it. If that’s too much trouble, we would at least make up a story that felt good rather than one that just makes us madder. If we are supplying the missing details, why choose the ones that cause the most misery? Do we enjoy having our feelings hurt?

Things are not always what they seem, and offense is taken far more often than it is really given. Next time you find your knickers all wadded up about something, take a step back, refocus, and learn the facts. You won’t be giving up your right to a good head of justifiable steam if the situation really warrants it. You also won’t waste your precious energy writing a story to piss yourself off. Before you get mad, remind yourself that six men won’t fit in a bucket.

*An all-too true story borrowed and paraphrased from my friend Indigo Satin.

Garden Goodness

Just sharing some joy from the garden. We've started harvesting vegetables regularly now, but we've been havesting beauty for weeks. Enjoy!

Who Hates You?

I saw this sign on a church on my way to work this morning:

My first thought was that it was a clever reverse approach to the multitude of “message from God” signs so popular locally –

“We need to talk.” – God

“My house on Sunday – hope to see you there.” – God

“How ‘bout introducing me to your friends?” – God

My next thought was more interesting:

Why is it that so many of us, individually and as groups, define ourselves as much by who hates us (or who we think/believe/hope hates us) as by who and what we actually are?

Christians preach about how they’re hated by “the world” for their commitment to Christ. Pagans rail about how they’re hated by Christians for their alleged assignations with the devil. Jehovah’s Witnesses love the notion of being hated by all other Christian sects for their departure on points of theology. Toss in liberals and conservatives, Republicans and Democrats, gays and straights, vegans and omnivores, Redskins fans and Cowboys fans…the list is endless. It’s part of the personal identity for some people.

Why do we do that? What is so compelling about defining ourselves by our perceptions of disapproval, distrust, dislike, distaste, and disrespect? What is it about being “dis’ed” that we love to identify with?

Any thoughts?

Blackberries for Breakfast

I had blackberries for breakfast this morning

grown on a nearby mountain by a couple

no longer young but still in their prime.

I tasted their youth,

felt the grit between my teeth
of a too-tight budget and a too-small house,

smelled their dreams of acreage, farmland, a life made rich and full

by sweat and soil and a solid work ethic.

I mashed up my berries

and watched the juice run in the bowl,

saw blood from blistered hands

and heard the curses muttered under the breath

when another machine went down

and there was no money to fix it.

I lifted my spoon to my mouth and

tasted a first good harvest on land long saved for,

good years and lean years,

pungent, fertile ground and dust,

sun, rain, wind, drought, and storm,

sweet and tart together,

still gritty from time to time

but full and juicy and rich,

a breakfast so full of life

I could taste it.

Don't Worry - You've Got the Good Vibration

We must find peace...

Enjoy.