The Visitor

As I finished drying the morning dishes, something moved in the air to my left. When I turned, I saw a ruby-throat hummingbird flying through our great room. In the mornings the room is filled with light from large plate glass windows and sliding doors that we often leave open during the day since everyone kept walking through the screen as they looked out at the view. I guess the bird couldn't discern the difference between indoors and out.

I quickly closed all the blinds and shut the front door to eliminate light except at the doorway where the bird had entered. I knew he would tire quickly as he sought escape and banged his beak against the glass at the bottom of a front window. When I got to him, it took several tries before I could cup a hand close to him. Finally he calmed against me, his soft green feathers vibrating lightly, so I covered him in both hands and walked him to the doorway. I stood on the deck at the railings and released him to the sky. My whole body smiled at this unexpected visit of just five minutes or so.

Since then I have thought often about how I closed off the light so the hummingbird could find the "real light" that would take him toward home. I remember times I have been in the dark looking for an opening, some light that would bring me back to myself. Spirit works like that, sometimes closing off the other light sources that won't get us back on our own path and shining brightly in ways that show us the way home.

Creativity in a Basket

A dear friend and I set out at noon on to wander through Mitchell County, NC, visiting glass, pottery and basket artists who open their studios to the public twice a year. We pack a small picnic lunch so we can spend our time enjoying the beautiful creations instead of trying to find or waiting in line at a restaurant. It is a warm June day, one of those days where you could be lazy in a chair with a book all afternoon or active in a shaded garden. I am grateful for the presence of a friend of many years and the time to catch up as we witness some amazing creations.

We head north toward Tennessee and veer off the highway onto a two lane, winding road through dense forests, open pasture lands, past weathered barns, vegetable gardens springing with lettuce and climbing beans, and arrive at Billie Ruth Suddreth's studio. She is a renowned basket artist whose red, black, yellow and walnut baskets wow the eye and lift the spirit. I attended a show of her twenty-five year basket-making anniversary two years ago and am so happy to meet and talk with her today. Something in me is pleased by her baskets in the way that witnessing a sunrise or hosta leaves turning out of the ground deepens and enriches me.

A student of mathematics, she creates her baskets' unusual patterns by using Fibonacci numbers, a mathematical pattern identified as early as 200BCE and named for a 13th century biologist. The natural Fibonacci pattern is found often in nature's fern curls, pine cones, leaves, flowers and the reproduction of bees. By definition, the first two Fibonacci numbers are 0 and 1, and each subsequent number is the sum of the previous two. Fibonacci numbers are those in the following :

I am pleased to learn that these incredible baskets priced in the thousands of dollars and collected by museums are created using a pattern of nature. I think again of Matthew Fox writing that creativity is the place, a space,a gathering, a union a where--wherein the Divine powers of creativity and the human power of imagination join forces. Such places are sacred and draw us closer to our own spiritual center. Billie Ruth's baskets are such a place and they invite me to seek that space in myself today.

note: I tried in vain to find a photo of one of her baskets on line for you to see.

2010: The First Half

The earth is our mother, we must take care of her.
The earth is our mother, we must take care or her.

Her sacred ground we walk upon with every step we take.
Her sacred ground we walk upon with every step we take.
~Earth based chant

An earthquake devastates Haiti. A few weeks later another quake rocks Chile. Volcanic ash spews above Iceland grounding European air traffic for days. A coalmine fire traps and kills more than two dozen West Virginia miners. An enormous oil well in the Gulf of Mexico explodes, kills eleven men and pumps thousands and thousands of gallons of oil into the water for fifty days with no end in sight.

I have to force myself to watch the news. The strong images of broken cities, wounded orphans, grieving widows, out of work fisherman and oil-drenched brown pelicans cut deep. I sit in my air condined home or new car wondering, "What can I do to help this situation?" I know I use and want the energy of the oil. I turn off lights, go the speed limit, combine trips, keep my car at home two days a week, and yet I stlil want to be able to drive to the mountains on a whim. I want to be able to travel at my convenience to see my new grandchildren.
The current Gulf oil disaster requires us all to pay attention. I look at the well pumping continuos oil and think, "If the earth is our mother, our nurturer, giver of resources for our survival, then this oil comes from a wound at her core."

The shift in our earth's crust and inside the volcanoes gives me pause. Why are all these things happening in just a few month's time? So far this year the earth has been wounded and broken in too many big ways. Of course, it is not just this year. . . it is our cumulative effet of decades of humans using the earth's resources with little or not regard for the results of our actions. What we humans have damaged, we must correct. We cannot afford to believe that the resources are available to us forever. We must take care of her.

All I know to do is to pay attention to my own choices. I must remember that the earth is our mother. When it is a pain to wash out the peanut butter jar for recycling, I must chose to do it. I buy fewer paper products and am mindful of how I waste water. For ten years we have had a bucket in the shower. I compost. We recycle more than fits in our two red bins weekly. I chose products with less packaging. I am hooked on the new pump laundry detergent in small battles which require fewer resources to make and transport.

Last night I saw video of a crab struggling in the surface oil. The commentator explained that the crabs mistake the oil globs shape for the seaweed they usually eat. The crabs swim up and into the oil seeking food. They are covered, stuck and unable to free themselves. I don't want this to happen to us!