Many thanks to minnehaha K. for the link:

The Tree of Contemplative Practices.

This entry was originally posted at http://pegkerr.dreamwidth.org/1732452.html. There are comments on the post.

I agree with bekkio and choralreef: of all of the commentary I've seen on Obama's choice to have Rick Warren give the invocation at his inauguration, this dovetails with my own thinking the most. Yes, I understand why some people are smarting over Proposition 8 and are angry over this. I'm hurting over Proposition 8, too. But I agree: Obama understands that we need to build upon our common ground, rather than exacerbating our wounds.

The retreat, as I said, was wonderful. The St. Benedict's Monastery, which is associated with the Sisters of the Order of St. Benedict, is on the campus of the College of Saint Benedict, a woman's college in St. Joseph, Minnesota (the nearby men's college is St. John's). It's the largest resident community of Benedictine nuns at present in the world, although there's a group in Africa which is getting close in size. The median age of the Sisters (I believe) is around 74. The Spirituality Center, where I stayed, had another life as a college dormitory, but now people on retreat stay there, as well as groups who come to use the center. Very comfortable. I had two strokes of luck: my visit was actually timed with the college's spring break, so there were no students around, which meant it was extremely quiet. And there were no other people staying in the Spirituality Center, either. There was one woman who was also on a retreat (a week of respite from caring for her father, who has Alzheimer's), but she was staying at the Hermitage. These are two little rustic cottages: one is kept for people who come for retreat, as I did, and one is reserved for Sisters of the order for their retreats. The Hermitage might be nice to do some time, but I was perfectly happy at the Spirituality Center, since there was no one else staying there but me. Sisters staffed it during the day, but I had the place to myself at night, and it was nice to go to the kitchen and make a cup of tea, and have a plate of the homemade cookies that the Sisters made and helpfully tucked into the breadbox for me. I ate breakfast at the Spirituality Center's kitchen--cereal or eggs. One day I made French toast. Lunch and dinner I ate with the Sisters in their dining hall.

It felt so strange, in a way, the way they took care of me. It made me realize how much being a caretaker is part of my daily life, that having that role reversed seemed like such a big deal. The first morning I came into the Spirituality Center's kitchen for breakfast, there was a place setting of dishes all nicely set out on the counter. "Oh, they're just showing me what dishes are available," I thought vaguely, and pulled other dishes out of the cupboard for my own meal. "But we left those dishes out for you," Sister Luanne told me afterward. And it felt positively decadent to be told to just leave my dishes in the sink. "I can put them in the dishwasher," I protested, trying to be polite. I thought of all the times I had harangued my family to clean up after themselves instead of leaving their dishes for me to do. "Oh, no," Sister Teresa said, smiling. "That's what we do." A Sister was there to accompany me at the lunches and dinners, so that I would have company if I wanted it--but they would show me the little side room where I could eat by myself in silence, if I preferred--which I did on Tuesday, because I was struggling with a bout of tears at lunchtime. If I dropped a spoon or a fork in the dining hall, a Sister would immediately fetch me one to replace it.

Their kindness was part of their service, I realized. All their work that they do, teaching, administrative, nursing, or caring for people on retreat, is their vocation.

The peace sank into my bones, and I embraced it with relief. Threaded throughout the day, the sisters keep the Liturgy of the Hours: morning prayer before breakfast at 7:00 a.m.--I never managed to make that--midday at 11:30 a.m., right before lunch (went to all of those), mass at 5:00 p.m. (ditto) and vespers at 7:00 p.m. (went to that about half the time). I did yoga. I walked in the cold, breathing the crisp air and looking at the sky, sometimes listening to the Holy Tree playlist.

I had a session of spiritual counseling with Sister Josue, which was helpful, and gave me much to think about. I got a massage from Stephanie, who is the newest postulant to the community--she was a massage therapist before coming to St. Benedict's. Sister Dorothy helped me track down a piece of artwork I found mentioned in some of the materials about the Order: apparently, the order's founder, Mother Benedicta Riepp, reported a dream:

I saw a large tree growing up, covered all over with beautiful white blossoms. I believe that the dream is an image of the beautiful life of unity and love shared by all the members (of the new foundation in America).

A piece of artwork was commissioned of the blooming tree in Mother Benedicta's dream for the St. Benedict's Monastery's 150th Anniversary, and Sister Dorothy kindly arranged for me a private viewing to see one of the prints.

I did the soulcollaging at night. That was wonderful. Mostly, I was going through magazines and cutting out images that struck me (back issues of National Geographic are the new crack for me.) But I did make three cards and I have many ideas for further ones, too. What the whole thing did was to give me reassurance about one of my deepest fears, which I think was one of the things that has driven my depression: the sense that I've lost my creativity. By happy chance, I took my ribbon coat to the retreat, and in fact sewed on another ribbon while I was there. I wore it one day and was stopped over and over again by various Sisters in the dining hall who asked me questions about it: "How lovely! Why, you made it yourself? My, how creative you are!" What I realized when I was soulcollaging was the entire process was almost exactly like what I used to do when I wrote short stories: in preparation, I would read voraciously, just as I was combing through images now. I'd get three or four ideas, and then, when one more appeared, the crucial one, the whole story would blossom in my mind, as if I'd dropped a seed crystal into a supersaturated solution, making a crystalline structure bloom. The way the cards came together was just the same.

I haven't lost it, I thought with relief. It's still buried under there, somewhere, even if I'm not writing fiction right now.

It was hard to leave. But Sister Rita gave me a gift when I did that touched me very deeply. With exquisite tact, she didn't hand it to me directly, which might have put me in the awkward situation of wondering whether I should accept it or not. Instead, she handed it on to the Sister who checked me out of the Center to give to me then, a big and beautiful coffee table book filled with splendid photographs: The Meaning of Trees: Botany, History, Healing, Lore, by Fred Hageneder. ( Here is the coverCollapse )

I would strongly recommend the St. Benedict Monastery's Spirituality Center for retreats. If you go, and you get half out of it that I did, you will be very blessed indeed.

UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown said Tuesday that officials were working to secure the early release of a British teacher who faces being whipped in Sudan after she allowed her class to name a teddy bear "Mohammed."

It's hard to know what to say about this jaw-dropping story. Respect for other religions, yeah, yeah, but come on. I wonder what the Prophet might have thought about his followers raising respect for his name practically to the point of idolatry.

Edited to add: I also wonder why it doesn't seem to occur to anyone to also give 40 lashes to the 20 out of 23 kids in the classroom who voted to give the teddy bear the name "Mohammed."

I love this story. From the blogsite Americans United for Separation of Church and State. (See the article here):

"Backpack mail" systems are common in public schools. [The Albemarle School District] uses it to advertise extra-curricular activities such as children’s theater, summer camps and recreational sports events.

The Albemarle District previously had a sensible policy barring "distribution of literature that this for partisan, sectarian, religious or political purposes," but it was revised at the behest of the late Jerry Falwell’s Liberty Counsel to allow religious content.

Liberty Counsel relied on a 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruling earlier in 2006 that public school districts do not have "unbridled discretion to deny access to the oft-used forum" because that would not "ensure the requisite viewpoint neutrality."

So, the Religious Right got what they wanted from the federal courts (the same federal courts they accuse of "kicking God out of the public schools") and now they’re hopping mad…again.

World Net Daily reports that the Albemarle School District is under attack by a Religious Right group for sending students home with flyers for Camp Quest, an overnight summer camp for young atheists, agnostics and freethinkers.

A pagan group used the "backpack mail" system to publicize some of their events, too, which made the Religious Right even more furious. Good heavens, you open that door and look what happens . . . ANYONE can come in!

I bought this one today, the Druidcraft Tarot. I went to four stores in all and looked through a lot of decks. I'm not totally in love with this deck or even sure that I will use it extensively, since I've never had a Tarot deck before. But I like it, and I thought it might be a good starting point. I have, however, also put the Jane Austen deck on my Amazon wishlist.

_lindsay_ asked to know a little about my previous remark that I'm somewhat wary of Tarot. That's true, I am. For one thing, I probably first learned about Tarot in detail by reading Tim Powers' Last Call--and that book is enough to terrify anybody from ever touching a deck! Tim is a devout Roman Catholic, and--it's funny--although he is a fantasy writer, he doesn't like or trust magic at all! In fact, in his stories, magic pretty much always leads to ruin. Tim has told me that he won't allow a Tarot deck in his house, and he would never dare play a game of Assumption, the game he actually invented for Last Call that is played with a Tarot deck.

Then, too, I have had somewhat of an inner struggle about what to think about Tarot because I am a Christian myself. A liberal one, but a Christian all the same. And Christianity has often been suspicious, if not overtly condemning, of things things associated with the occult, as Tarot sometimes is. I know that Tarot is a pretty amorphous, squishy concept, with connections to many different spiritual and mystic paths, not just Paganism--it has links to Masons, Hebrew, the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, Egyptian mysticism, Jungian archetypes, and more. I do not condemn Wicca or Paganism myself; I understand them to be different faiths than my own, and not, as some conservative Christians think, the road to the Devil and damnation. I am certainly very interested in many aspects of Wicca/paganism--the cycle of the seasons, the attention to the mother/maiden/crone, the reverence for the natural world, especially trees, male/female energy and balance, etc.--and I think my Christianity can learn and draw wisdom from that.

Do I think Tarot is magic? Well, I don't know what I think of magic, frankly. I am extremely skeptical whenever I step into a New Age shop. But I am interested and curious when I step in. I am not like Lavender or Parvati, credulous and perhaps gullible, but I am not Hermione, the totally rejecting skeptic who thinks divination is probably useless, either. I have had l_a_winter do a reading for me on Easter Sunday every year for probably ten years or so. I do not think that what we discuss when we do a reading is a prediction which will, of course, come true because Tarot is magic. Rather, I think that Tarot can tap into some useful insights, many, perhaps, Jungian, and I am interested in opening myself up to that.

Then, too, I have been to some panels at conventions about how Tarot may be useful to a writer, and that is because Tarot, as I understand it has developed over the centuries, can be a useful tool for intuition. I LOVE thinking and chewing over archetypes; it is one of the reasons I particularly adore fantasy literature, and why, when I write, I am particularly attuned to theme. Tarot is all about themes. And that in the end, I think, is what made me decide (after YEARS of thinking about it) to go out and get a Tarot deck. I have felt awfully stultified and stuck lately, and barren of intuition. I have been struggling with some things for years that my best attempts at using logic and reason have yielded no direction at all (and some of this is writing-related, some of it personal stuff that Elinor Dashwood does not talk about in this LiveJournal). I have been feeling very frustrated lately as a result. Why not try Tarot, with the understanding that I'm using it not as a "magical" device, or a step into a faith that is not my own Christian faith, but as a way to open up a pathway to my unconscious and intuition, the source of my creativity, which, let's face it, has been feeling awfully blocked lately?

So I looked around and after investigating and hesitating over a LOT of decks, I chose this Pagan/Druidic one. And yeah, I must admit I am a little uncertain and uncomfortable with that choice. But the artwork is cool, and I'm not buying it because I'm about to worship the Maiden/Mother/Crone or cast off my clothes to go skyclad or mate with a horned god or anything (no disrespect to my Pagan/Wicca friends on this friends list, I assure you). I may get around to wrapping the deck with silk, or I may not. I am not quite credulous enough to think I will be able to detect "emanations" from the cards, nor do I feel the need to bless my new deck with the ritual elaborated in the accompanying manual--I find it mildly silly rather than inspiring.

But I do want to listen to what the Maiden/Mother/Crone, or the Moon, or the Magician, or the Star or the Hanged Man have to say to me. And especially the Fool.

The Tarot is often described as the story of the journal of the Fool into achieving wisdom and mastery. I have felt a lot like a Fool lately, so I am sure we will have much to talk about.

(If there is anyone local and knowledgeable who might be inclined to meet with me over coffee some Friday night to sort of introduce me to my new deck, let me know. Thanks.)

Edited to add: When you think about it, Harry Potter would make a good Tarot as well. Lupin could be the Moon card, James and Lily could be the lovers, the Tower could be the death of James and Lily (the lovers) and explosion of their house. Judgment could either be the Sorting Hat or Harry's trial before the Wizengamot. Strength could be summoning the Patronus (with the Gryffindor Lion as the Lion on the card), or maybe Strength could be Neville Longbottom. Peter Pettigrew could be the Devil card. Death could be Voldemort, or the Dementors. John Granger has already done a lot of analysis of how the four Houses are associated with the four alchemical elements (earth, fire, air, water) which in turn are associates with the four suits (wands, pentacles, cups, swords). You have wands, of course, and the Sword of Gryffindor. Maybe Ollivander would be the Ace of Wands. Fawkes would be associated with Fire--perhaps the Sun card. Gilderoy Lockhart could be the Fool, or perhaps the twins, with Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Sibyll Trelawney could be the Priestess. Something with a lot of pentacles could be a trip to Gringotts. (Maybe the twins would be the Knight of Pentacles, with their Triwizard Tournament winnings). The Magician might be Dumbledore, looking into a Pensieve. Etcetera. There are lots of possibilities.

There have been some people who have started developing ideas for a Harry Potter tarot on the web, but I think you'd have to wait until the seventh book is published to do it right, and no deck has been published yet.

I mean, I've read the whole thing. Several times.



Gacked from cakmpls.

Saw this at broadsheet and noted without comment: The Burquini, which allows a modest Muslim woman to swim comfortably while remaining fully covered from head to toe.

(All right, one little comment: broadsheet is right: that hood does sorta look like a Smurf hat).

I don't know what to think about the recent US Airway incident which took place here in Minnesota.

At first, I was outraged when I heard that six imams were arrested and taken off the plane in handcuffs. Their scary terroristic crime? Praying at the airport. And mentioning the word "Allah." For crying out loud, don't Minnesotans know by now about the Muslim practice of praying five times a day, facing Mecca?

I was even more appalled when I read a recent editorial in the Star Tribune, where a Muslim writer chided the imams for their behavior (don't have the link, sorry), scolding them for alarming nearby passengers. What kind of prejudice must Muslims face every day, I wondered, when even one of their own chides them for following the practices of their faith, for fear of what others will think?

But I read this recent article in the Washington Times, which adds more details. The imams did not take their assigned seats, but they positioned themselves near the exits, in the same configuration, the flight attendants said, of the hijackers in the September 11 attacks [were they trying to position themselves strategically? the passengers wondered.] Three of the six, who did not appear to be overweight, asked for seatbelt extenders, and then put them on the floor under their seats [handy garrottes, perhaps? the nervous wondered] The imams said that they were praying "quietly." One of the passengers, Omar Shahin, told Newsweek the group did everything it could to avoid suspicion by wearing Western clothes, speaking English and booking seats so they were not together. He said they conducted prayers quietly and separately to avoid attention.

Other witnesses described the prayers as "loud" and said they were "shouting hostile slogans about al Qaeda and the war in Iraq." Apparently one passenger who sent a concerned note to a flight attendant spoke Arabic. Katherine Kersten, our loathsome local conservative columnist, is of course all over this.

Were the imams trying to be deliberately provocative for some reason? I have absolutely no idea. I wasn't there. There do seem to be conflicting reports between the imams' own descriptions of their behavior and the other witnesses. If they were trying to be "provocative," as some bloggers have accused, why on earth were they doing so? I can't help but think that if al Qaeda planned to use six religious leaders to blow up another airplane, they would know enough not to call such attention to themselves.

See Washington Times editorial, here.

I gotta think this is a case of people simply panicking unnecessarily.

But then today a new story: Our brand new Congressman Keith Ellison has said that he plans to take his oath of office with his hand on a copy of the Qur'an. And now some officious dunderheads are tsk tsking at his choice as "unAmerican":

"Mr. Ellison, America, not you, decides on what book its public servants take their oath," radio talk show host and author Dennis Prager wrote in his online column this week. He said that American Jews routinely have taken their oath on the Bible, even though they don't believe in the New Testament, and that if Ellison refuses to do so, "don't serve in Congress."

Good heavens, people. You make me absolutely ashamed to be classified with you as "Christians."

Edited to add: There has been some interesting discussion of the Ellison story over at cakmpls's journal here. And as some have pointed out, taking the oath on a Bible is not in any way a Constitutional requirement, but simply a custom that some Congressional representatives follow.

Here.

He magnanimously asked his congregation to forgive his accuser. That's so very nice of you, pal.

Then they gave him a standing ovation.

What a . . . [considers for a while and then decides that words fail me.]