Being Other

Traveling as an American, or as any other person who carries a label for others, it's been interesting to hear people engage us in conversation about the killing of Osama bin Laden.  I must confess a bit of defensiveness:  hey, I'm not the one who pulled the trigger or made the call.  There are shades of gray in everything and especially this event.  But it's interesting to be away from home and encounter the strong, unshaded opinions of others on an event like this. Interesting to take a deep breath and allow people to have the time they need to be critical or supportive.  Interesting to be an American away.

The Hindu Mandir in NW Toronto~ 24,000 carved stones fitted together; finished in 2 years' time.

Yesterday we had another experience that was an experience of being "Other."  Our daughter Emily took us to a Hindu temple complex on the NW side of Toronto, right up against the highway.  This is called the BAPS Swaminarayan Complex.  It consists of 2 large buildings, a short, teak carved all-purpose building where they hold meetings and educational events for men, women, and kids; as well as a breathtaking large temple. This temple was build in just 2 years, and everything was carved by hand in India.  24,000 pieces of carved rock fitted together afterward with no supporting metal in the structure.  We weren't allowed to photograph inside, unfortunately.

The entrance to what we could call the "parish hall"

Upon entering the "parish hall," women go to the left and men to the right.  You put your shoes in a cubby and walk around in socks...

Inside the temple the construction was very reminiscent of a mosque we had visited in Cordoba, Spain.  This mosque had been built in the Middle Ages and then was re-appropriated as a Christian church at a later time.  But the structure and decorations remained very much the same within the mosque.  It was amazing to see how both a Hindu and Muslim place of worship echoed the other's form.  A huge difference between the two was the Hindu use of images for the divine (humans and animals) vs the Muslim proscription of any images (and hence the proliferation of decorative elements such as calligraphy--the elevation of the Word as the beauty of Art).

Inside we were told there was to be silence, as this was a place of meditation.  And there the boundaries and differences dissolved.  Quiet is quiet, stillness is stillness, and the One speaks within it all.  If only we can gather ourselves up to receive.

There is strength in difference, unity in otherness.  It waits for us.  Quietly.

Setting Out

Just setting out on our Professional Development Leave and beginning to develop ... we arrived safe and sound yesterday in Toronto and celebrated Emily's birthday with her and John at an almost-locavore restaurant called Earth.  Barry, the adventurous one, had homemade fettucini with rabbit; I had smoked chicken with Ontario rutabaga puree, onions, and cherries preserved from last year's harvest.  Today we drove over to Prince Edward County, east of Toronto along the shore of Lake Ontario.  It's lovely here and the towns on the lake are small and quaint.

The view across to Lake Ontario from tonight's B and B

We are beginning our routine of study, prayer, sleep, and recreation.  One sentence from near the beginning of The Artist's Way got underlined yesterday:  "As we open our creative channel to the creator, many gentle but powerful changes are to be expected."  Gentle but powerful; sounds like Holy Spirit to me.  This morning, sitting in Future Bakery in Toronto, I began the first chapter, "Recovering a Sense of Safety."  It has the reader take a look at the old tapes that play in our heads and tell us we are no good at what we do or who we are... very powerful stuff.  Not too late for anyone to work along with this course.  It might be fun to compare notes in the fall.

One practice we are beginning is reading to each other.  We have a copy of Steig Larsson's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and hope to begin it today.  Otherwise I am still reading a history of cancer called The Emperor of All Maladies and Barry is reading what looks to me like an AP History Textbook, called From Dawn to Decadence.  We are enjoying the quiet.

An Image for Holy Week

Agnus Dei, by Francisco de Zurbaran, 17th Century

   I can't get this one out of my head this year.  Having returned from a trip where we saw lots of baby lambs in the fields, this picture stands out and haunts.  

   We have a print of this painting, purchased by Barry at a recent church fundraiser.  The detail is striking but the pose even more so.

   The lamb's feet are tied but its body shows no struggle.  There seems to be a look of sleepy resignation on its face.  It seems to know what lies ahead and to be ok with that.

   It seems to me to be a brilliant statement of Christology, Jesus the humble lamb, ready for slaughter, accepting it, and at peace.  So much seems at odds with modern sensibilities here.  So much paradox in this figure.  So much paradox in faith.

So Hard to Do Nothing . . .

First full day in Ireland--March 30, 2011--it was a real struggle this morning to do nothing.  Just sit, and let the mind go into neutral.  Coming down off of too much, too often, is difficult.  That can be a kind of drug that keeps me dulled and almost oblivious to the undercurrents within; it is a real challenge to sit and to be and to stop thinking about what to do next.  It shows the value of taking a breather and stopping to listen more often.

Now for some photos that show that we didn't do nothing for very long:

The view from our lodge, the Lough Inagh Lodge.  Lough Inagh in the foreground, the 12 Pins in the background.

Ireland in the spring is luscious.  The grass is greening up beautifully while the mountains are still covered in brown.  The wind is cold, but intermittent sun helps warm things up.  The best thing is the lambs, strugging on spindly little legs, and then the ones born a little earlier who are beginning to frisk and gambol about.

Twin lambs by mom's side; Atlantic Ocean in the background.  Near Conamara National Park.

  Today we climbed a peak called Diamond Hill in Conamara (Connemara) National Park.  It was a good 4 mile walk including a very steep ascent to the top.  Lovely views.

The view from the walk, down across Letterfrack

On the trail to Diamond Hill, in background

One of the highlights of the day was back in the Lodge--afternoon tea.  Barry shows how it's done:

Making Small Adjustments

Last week I took a day of retreat at Transfiguration Lodge up in the Litchfield Hills. I was hoping I'd wake up in time to see the sun rise, a spectacular sight over the acres of bare trees adjacent to the Lodge. And I did. The moon was still out, the snow on the branches.

Snow covered trees at dawn with the moon in the sky

 As I sat with my coffee I saw a lone squirrel try to walk over a branch and he slipped a little--the squirrel had to adjust to the snow by traveling upside down instead of right side up. It was a small adjustment so that he could find a bare place to hold on. And it was amazing how instinct took over and he knew to move upside down in order to travel.

Sunrise with icicles, Transfiguration Lodge

Later I was struck by how in yoga practice we're told to "make small adjustments" in the body so that a pose is more comfortable or more challenging.

Making small adjustments in life--adjusting how we cope with snow or how we cope with life's bigger challenges--is so essential. It's a wonderful skill that helps us keep our balance. It's nice to have been reminded of it by both a squirrel and a yogi.

Kudos to the AMNH

We were so deeply impressed by the quality of the information at the Dinosaur exhibit at the American Museum of Natural History.  Over and over exhibit commentaries were written in perfect accord with the Scientific Method, drawing careful conclusions and taking pains to explain why this or that assumption was not a legitimate conclusion based on measurable data.  And yet they stated quite unequivocally that our modern birds are direct descendants of dinosaurs, continuing their evolutionary line.  This was justified because of paleontological research in the last couple of decades that has proven this once controversial hypothesis.  Great writing and respectable science.  Kudos, AMNH.  See you again soon.

Unvarnished Awe

Last Saturday Barry and I traveled to the American Museum of Natural History on Central Park West.  It was my yearly pilgrimage to the Butterfly Room at the museum.  It's a small conservatory, complete with flowering plants, bright Grow Lights and extremely high humidity.  And there are about 600 butterflies at any one time just flying around and sipping nectar and being beautiful.  This is as close to the tropics that you can get without actually taking the time to fly there.  It always boosts my spirits in the winter and makes me feel like I had a real vacation.

About a decade ago I went there for the first time.   I happened to have on a bright yellow sweater.  A huge fluorescent blue butterfly (a Blue Morpho) flew over to me and stayed on my sweater for about 15 minutes.  It was glorious. Ever since then I've worn yellow to that exhibit.  And this past Saturday I was fortunate enough to have 2 butterflies on my shoulder for a while.

Look closely!  She's there!

But the best part of the trip to the Butterfly Conservatory came toward the end of our visit.  Near the exit door the people were gathering to watch a little baby--maybe 3 or 4 months old at the most.  He was the picture of rapture, just staring at these butterflies all around.  His eyes went wide, his body stiffened, he kicked and moved his arms.  It was a dance of awe and self-forgetting.   I want to be like that in prayer, overtaken by awe and self-forgetting.