One Wild and Precious Life

Advent at My House

I'm having the loveliest Advent -- very peaceful and serene and low-key.  So far my decorations consist of a wreath on the front door, my (artificial) tree with lights and no ornaments, my Advent wreath, and the very beginnings of my creche.

 

 

Here is the Advent wreath as I originally set it up this year -- you can see, very spare and simple, not low-energy, just calm.  I've got plenty of purple and pink candles (some left over from last year), so I can burn it in the evening while I'm watching TV or writing in my journal.  I haven't put a Christ candle in the center, but will do that, to burn from Christmas Eve until Epiphany.

 

Here it is with a little bit of dressing-up:

 

Just some green (artificial) apples, some shiny golden apple ornaments, and a single gold "icicle" that I found on my living room rug (no doubt carried down from my studio amidst packing materials used to prepare one special parcel.  I don't know -- I kind of like it plain, now that I see the two pictures juxtaposed here.  I may put those things in the middle away again.

I mailed Cheryl's package on Monday and scheduled to arrive at its northerly destination next Monday!  I never get my packages mailed to arrive on time -- what is happening to me?  I may be possessed by some angelic spirit!

 

Here's my simple little tree:

Perhaps it looks a little forlorn in this shot -- but when it's a little dark in the room and the lights are twinkling, it's a pretty sight, all on its own -- and I doubt I'll add any ornaments, unless I'm seized with a fever of Christmas spirit in the next few days.  I've had lots of years without a tree at all -- maybe a poinsettia, or even a Norfolk Island Pine in a pot.  And this tree has little red berries attached, and just a dusting of artificial snow.  Next year when I get them out again,  I'll appreciate my beloved tree ornaments all the more. 

 

 

 I honestly thought it would be just the traditional manger scene:  family, shepherds, kings, a few animals.  But I couldn't resist adding a few of the figures I have around the house, including St. Francis, Buddha, Guadalupe, and the plane that seems to have landed on the stable roof.  My funny figures, all gathered around and waiting for the baby Jesus, always make me smile.  I probably won't unwrap Santa, Elvis, the snack wagon, the park bench, or the street lamps this year...

but every day a few more figures find their way to Bethlehem:

 

 

Here you see a few more animals and figures  -- the Infant of Prague, St. Patrick, the Virgin of Loreto (oh, wait, she was in the first picture), some cats, and a few more.  If you click on the picture, it will open to a larger version.  The Holy Family, of course, won't arrive until Christmas Eve (they're in the dining room right now), and the kings won't get there till Epiphany.  The animals are already there, because that's where they live.  This year's addition (I usually buy a new figure each year) was a dinosaur, there just left of the donkey.  All of creation awaits the Christ child, after all.

 

So that's basically it.  I'm not really energized to do elaborate decorating this year.  I'm not depressed, but rather seem to be investing my energy in things like arranging to see my family sometime during the week after Christmas.  I haven't been to Indiana during the Christmas season for years -- maybe decades!  And getting packages into the mail on time, and tending my flock here.  Last night we had a parish Christmas party, and it was lovely to see folks in their party duds coming together just to have fun, and because we like each other.

I also have time to do a little reading and meditating on what Christmas is really all about.  It's a great way to be living in this frantic season -- by not being frantic.  I don't have special foods to cook, or lots of gifts to buy (that's already done), or parties to attend.  I do have some more wrapping to do, but it will get done all in good time.  I've got a few cards to send, some of which will be electronic ones.

I hope each of you can find some quiet space in the season to just put your feet up and enjoy it all, rather than being too busy to notice that a miracle is happening.

Life is Amazing Sometimes!

My friend Fran is participating in the "A Virgin a Day" meme, and today she posted a picture of Artemis of the Ephesians.  Now Fran saw the ancient statue in Turkey (where Ephesus is located), but I saw this one in Naples:

I like to think of her as the "missing link" between paganism and Christianity in Italy.  Can you see how a culture who worshipped this figure above (her hands, feet, and face were replaced in bronze in the late Nineteenth Century, so I'm not sure if they were originally black), could easily adopt and adapt to a figure like the one following?

Actually the Lady above is in Einsiedeln, Switzerland -- but in the foothills of the Alps, the countries kind of run together, with no cultural boundaries at all.  It's "mountain culture," rather than identifiably Swiss or French or German or Italian.  Or how about this one, below?  She is across the border and in the Alpine foothills on the other side, in Oropa, Italy:

 

It seems to me that these dark, feminine figures have more in common than they are different.  On the Artemis figure, her headdress, arms, and skirt are lined with figures of humans and animals -- how radically different is that from those black Virgins, carrying the Christ Child?  At the very least, these black madonnas must have seemed like familiar figures to a goddess-worshipping Italian culture.

And speaking of my friend Fran, here's another amazing thing that has happened this week.  In her post a week or so ago, she mentioned my blog.  Well, someone who was reading her blog just happens to live in my town!  Out of the blue I got an email from this person, and we had lunch, and now I have a new friend!  I have a "Mary friend" right here in this town.  We're both passionate about the Virgin Mary (mine in the guise of my beloved black madonna, of course) -- and we have lots and lots and lots of other things in common!  I wish you could have seen us at lunch, talking about a million miles an hour, with so much to share.  So thanks to a friend way out west, I have a new friend here on the Cumberland Plateau!  What fun!  More than fun -- there's delight and joy in finding a new person to share with, in this bible-belt community where they mostly only pay attention to the Virgin Mary at Christmas, then they put her away for another year.  Thanks, Fran.

One of the best things about friends is what we share with one another, and how we grow and are inspired by knowing one another.  I would not have this new friend Donna if it weren't for my friend Fran.  And now I have someone to share Mary with, but also spirituality, and art-making, and life here in this part of the world.  Can you tell I'm thrilled?  Thanks, Fran!  Thanks, Donna, for following up and writing to me, and thanks to the both of you for bringing me again into blogland for a visit and inspiration.

Black Madonna Work

Well, late fall has well and truly crept up -- a couple of days of rain, a night with a hard freeze (last night), and this morning I could literally hear the leaves falling in the thick mountain fog.  Today became beautiful, though -- crisp, cool, and sunny -- like a golden delicious apple.  My front yard looks like this:

and the big oak tree in front of the church has never looked so stunning:

It looks like something caught fire beside my garage:

but no, it's just the burning bush that a parishioner gave me when it was just a little stick, and that I planted the year I came here.  Now the leaves on the tall trees look more like lace than a heavy golden canopy:

We've still got some color left, though, and this evening I took the dogs on a long walk to check out the woods and the pond (yes, Clementine still wanted a wade, at least, if not a full swim), and to walk back through the nearby development where Sophie and Goldie, the two golden retrievers I call "The Fan Club," barked us all the way down the street.  They're such good dogs, though -- they stay right inside their electronic fence, the way they're supposed to.  Here's a bit of what's left of the colors behind my house:

Ah, fall is beautiful here, and I love that it's so long -- actually all our seasons are just about equal in length, which makes for the great luxury of enjoying every one of them, and being happy to see the next one when it comes along.  The nip in the air tells me that winter is on its way, and I've still got plants to bring in or move to the potting shed, and the veggie garden to clean up and put to bed.  There are still a few bell peppers out there, and I'm thinking of bringing in one of the parsley plants so I'll have fresh parsley this winter.

A good friend has told me that it's time to blog again -- okay, it was Jack, my 2nd ex and one of my very best friends.  He's great at inspiring me and prompting me, and a good writer, too.  He wants to hear more about the black madonna, and she'll sneak her way in here, as you can tell from the title of this post.

Last weekend I was at a clergy conference in Gatlinburg.  I loved it -- the weather was beautiful, and the scenery in and around Gatlinburg was very nice this time of year, as you can imagine.  We got to spend some extended time with our new Bishop, George Young, and the more time I spend with him, the better I like him.  And I love getting to see my colleagues!  As much as I love my little spot up here on the Plateau, it means that I'm at least an hour's drive away from most of my Episcopal clergy colleagues, and I feel pretty isolated sometimes.  If I drive to Knoxville, it's basically a half-day out of my schedule -- an hour each way and whatever time I spend there.  I haven't had a lot of half-days to spare out of my week lately -- it's not like I can just ring someone up on the spur of the moment and say, "Are you free for lunch?"  So being with them, sharing meals, catching up, soaking up compliments about my weight loss (up to 69 pounds now), and handing out lots of compliments and congratulations myself was pure pleasure for me.  We also had some directed table conversation during our time together; funny how I used to hate it when we were basically told to "chat among yourselves and I (whoever the facilitator was) will give you a topic..."  But the older (or more extroverted?) I get, the more I like it.

It wasn't until I received quizzical looks when I told the group I've been doing a lot of "black madonna work" that I realized how much I keep this passion of mine under wraps.  One of my friends did ask, "So what do you mean when you say 'black madonna work'?"  I told my group, and now I'm going to tell you.  The black madonna is, for me, the embodiment of the dark sacred feminine -- that one who walks alongside us through the darkness, and helps us through the darkness that accompanies some of our most painful life transitions and transformations.  She sits with the dying, she comforts the bereaved (because she knows what that's like).  She is a protective, healing presence, but while not death-dealing herself (that's God's domain), she is familiar with and even comfortable with the ways of death, and can be fearlessly present in the valley of the shadow of death.  The black madonna can stand beside a woman who receives news that her husband's condition is imminently terminal, and she is there when I anoint his forehead and palms and heart and say the Litany for the Dying.  She is there when I give communion to someone so stooped with their illness that they cannot sit up straight in a chair, and she is there when I write their funeral homily.  She is there at the funerals when I process up the aisle behind the cross, speaking the now all-too-familiar words, "I am resurrection and I am life, says the Lord...."  She is there as I watch a stroke victim nod off to sleep while his wife tells me how it all happened.  She is there when, as I did this morning, I express love and sorrow and support to a parishioner whose adult daughter was found dead yesterday.

The black madonna is much, much more than all that, much more than just sickness and death and dying -- but she is deeply and truly present for me as I do that work that has partly made up my last three weeks.  I feel grateful to have her companionship and her strength.  I'm pretty tired, and grab my rest where I can.  But I feel really, really privileged.  And I feel guided and supported by this presence that walks with me in the dark places where I walk with my parishioners, who are now also my friends and my beloved family in Christ.

When I told my mother nearly 20 years ago that I felt called to the priesthood, she looked very thoughtful for a time and said, Betsy (Betsy is my family nickname, for my middle name, Elizabeth), I think your whole life has been getting you ready for this."  It was one of the wisest things I've ever heard.  During these recent weeks I truly feel that I've been doing the work that my whole life has been getting me ready to do.

Now I've got short ribs and veggies just out of the oven, and I'm going to dine with delight.  After all, I may be abstinent, eating weighed and measured meals -- but I'm still a food addict, and I love my dinner!

One Wild and Precious Day (Well, Two, Actually)

Two beautiful weekends of Indian Summer just past; last weekend I thought of all the shoulds and oughts first:  I could weed a badly overgrown veggie garden, and put it to bed for winter:

Or maybe I should clear the windfall tree that fell onto my labyrinth in the last big storm:

Nah.  I didn't want to do either one of those things.  I'd have had to go get my chain saw back from the sharpening shop to clear the tree, and I just didn't feel like weeding and mulching on such a gorgeous day.  But then there's the brush pile that needs burning -- I love a bonfire!

Or there's the brush pile behind the church -- even bigger and more in need of a burn!

But really, you can see by the light even in these pictures, that the day was calling me -- calling me to something way beyond work.  This day wanted to be admired and adored, savored and enjoyed.  The day called me to do what I wanted to do -- asked me how best to make use of this one wild and precious day. 

So I started out with a bike ride that made me feel wild and free, like a kid again, really, exploring roads I'd never taken, panting my way up small hills (hey, I do live in the mountains here!), scaring myself a little bit with the speed of the downhill coasts.  What fun!  I was having too much fun (and too out of breath) to take pictures of my ride.  But when I got home, the day still beckoned, and I went for a solitary walk in the woods behind the church.

Our church is blessed with 18.8 acres of property, only about 3 acres of which is cleared.  The other 15 acres or so is woodland, complete with a rough, overgrown gravel roadbed-path laid by a previous owner.  So I set off down the path, through the woods, across the creek:

And on back through that particularly beautiul slant of light that only comes in the fall.  First I checked on the tumble-down A-frame that used to be someone's fishing cabin:

Then I took a look at what I think was once a hunting blind -- someone told me it looks like the top to a silo -- but I always fancied it to be a flying saucer:

Ah, what fun I would have had with this, when I was a kid!  It would have been the ultimate clubhouse, spaceship, playhouse, fort, teepee, whatever my iimagination could have conjured!

Finally, I came to the pond.  Please don't tell my dogs I came here without them!

Ah, the light was so perfect and round, the sky so blue that I sat down right there for a time to watch some small fish, listen to the breeze, and puzzle out why trees seem to like to lean right out over the water, as this one has.  Slowly, slowly, in the silence broken only by woods noises, I began to feel my soul fill up again.  Then I could head back out, re-crossing the creek and walking uphill to get back out to the church parking lot -- and this is what I saw as I left the woods:

It's hard to see that tiny, tiny moon in the very center of that blue, blue sky -- but it's there!  And it looked much bigger when I actually saw it last week!  Of course, tomorrow that moon will be full -- but last week it was just a plump crescent, hanging there in that late afternoon sky.

This weekend -- last Friday on my day off, actually, I went on another adventure -- with the dogs this time!  I finally decided to explore Fall Creek Falls State Park, one of the several that are fairly near to me, this one being only about 45 minutes from my home.  Other people have encouraged me to explore it, saying it's "really nice," and the park's own PR says that Southern Living Magazine called it "the best state park in the south."    So Mapquest was my friend, giving me great driving directions, and off I went.  Yes, it was/is spectacular.  I can only show you these pictures to prove my point:

I got down there to the base of the falls (maybe 300 feet?) by way of a heavily-traveled, but steep and rather treacherous path.  The dogs loved it, but they wore me out, trying to keep them from greeting every fellow-traveler, not pull me down the path too quickly, not explore every nook and cranny, like this one:

And then, once we got to the bottom, a fairly steep half-mile -- well, then we had to come back up!  Whew!  I was beat by the time we made it back to the car -- but I felt glorious, at the same time.  And I don't think I could have done it before I lost this 68 pounds in the last 18 months!  And the view from the top was deinitely worth it:

Why didn't I find this park sooner?  Why did I have to live here for nearly 9 years before I got around to exploring here?  There are lots of other features and vistas that I didn't have time to explore yet, and the campgrounds look really fine.  It makes me want to get a pickup truck with a camper cap and just take off for a few days -- or the rest of my life!

One Wild and Precious Life

Today I'm writing from my back porch.  It's hot, but I'm tolerating the heat very well.  What you won't see in this picture is the fan that's blowing on me, in addition to a nice breeze.

I didn't know you could have a fan on a porch, till I overheard a conversation between some southern friends of mine.  Then I realized that you can have a fan anywhere you have an electrical outlet!  And in the evenings, it can help blow the bugs away.  Last night was just dreamy out here, I've got to tell you.

So it's beautiful out here.  Part of my job as a parish priest is reading and writing, pondering the mysteries of the universe.  It's a great job!  And it's the part of the job that can be done just as well on the back porch as anywhere else -- maybe better on the back porch!

Weight loss update:  63 pounds gone.  I feel terrific.  Most of the time I even think I look terrific!  I have more energy, more time, and I'm "showing up" more emotionally.  I really feel present to my life and other people in a way that I haven't in a long, long time.  And there are other changes that have come about since I'm not eating and drinking addictively.  For instance, I find myself cleaning things up.  One day I walked into my garage and thought, "Oh, this is a mess."  Before I knew it, it was cleaned up, the back of my car was full of cardboard for the recycling center, and I was sweeping grass clippings and spider webs out the door.  The same crazy thing happened in my potting shed -- let there be order!  The pile of old magazines in my closet has shrunk considerably.  What is this, anyway?

My mind is clearer.  I'm reading things that I've read in previous years, but it feels as though I'm reading them for the first time.  I'm writing more.  And I'm having lots of Big Ideas and Wonderings.  And one of my wonderings is about the whole reason for this blog.  Is there any real reason to continue it?  Yeah, I've met some great folks who read, and whose blogs I read regularly.  But I seem to spend less and less time reading blogs, and certainly not much time writing.  But I do feel that the adventure of my life is worth sharing.  I'm learning so much, realizing so much, and it's not as though I'm discovering anything new, but I do occasionally find resources worth sharing, and it would be great to have a few people to share all these thoughts and discoveries with.

So -- one wild and precious life.  One.  As far as anyone knows for sure, it's the only one we get.  The only time around.  I won't pass this way again, won't have this summer day, won't have this moment of seeing roses blooming and basil wilting, won't feel this same breeze.  Wild.  This isn't anybody else's life.  It's mine.  It can't be stuffed into someone else's conception of what it should be.  For that matter, it can't even be stuffed into my own preconceptions.  In some senses I am the driver of this life, but I also have the necessary luxury of just sitting back and watching what happens sometimes.  So it's God's design and mine, nobody else's.  I can't be tamed to fit someone else's standards.  Precious.  That hardly needs any expansion or explanation at all.  I feel as though every day is a miracle.  I look in the mirror and I'm amazed.  I watch and listen and feel my own heart, how it has expanded in love, and I'm surprised, delighted, and oh, so grateful.  Yes, this life is precious, and my prayer is that you who read these words realize the preciousness, the miracle of your own life.  Go in peace, friend, go in peace.

Hello, Out There!

After ever so many months, I'm finally back.  I've had such an adventurous few months; I can't possibly tell all, but could hit some highlights, for sure.

The biggest, ongoing adventure is my foray into the world of food addiction.  Actually saying that I'm an addict was the hardest part, and once that hurdle was behind me, it has been full steam ahead in the weight department.  I've lost 55 pounds in the last year, first losing 25 last summer, but gaining back 10 of that when fall arrived.  Those autumn months were when I finally came to the conclusion that I couldn't do it alone.  In December I got serious about the program, and started counting my "days abstinent" on January 2.  I've had several breaks since then, have yet to accumulate 90 continuous days -- but the weight has continued to fall away, and I weigh less than I have in 15 years!  No, I don't have a recent picture to show, but I promise to get some this month.  And I don't want to neglect to mention the program I've joined:  Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA).  It's known to be fairly strict, and closely aligned with Alcoholics Anonymous.  It's not or everyone, but it's surely for me.  I have been living a miracle these last few months.

This adventure is about far more than weight loss, however.  There's a saying in FA:  "I got in it for the vanity and stayed in it for the sanity."  It has been delightful, for sure, to buy clothes in smaller sizes; but I have more energy and order in my life than I have had in years, too.  Somehow my garage, my potting shed, and my home have become more organized.  They're not perfect, never will be -- but there is room to breathe!  I've got a (reduced, more sensibly-sized) vegetable garden in, and I seem to have more time on my hands for the things that count:  reading, writing, enjoying my back porch, talking on the phone to friends and family, and taking care of business at the church.

I've also had many adventures this spring:

A mission trip to Honduras, helping in the dental clinic of a school and orphanage (no, I have no dental training, but I learned to assist with some things):

It was an amazing experience -- I think everything that a mission trip is supposed to be.  I learned about the kids, the country, the school, and myself.  I did a lot of reflecting and writing, and am so happy that I went.

I also attended a writing retreat at Valle Crucis Conference Center, and got re-invigorated to write about the black madonna.  I'm currently working on an article that I'm hoping to publish.  This group of women, who have been writing together for some time, will get together again in August, and I will join them!

Since I have lost considerable weight, I've been enjoying the heat much more than I ever have.  I spend a lot of time reading and writing on my cozy back porch:

I also use my little grill almost every night, and the porch has become my favorite spot!  The large pot you see on the left is actually a water feature that I made myself; the sound of water splashing masks the traffic noise from the busy road in front of my house.  I sit out here and do work, do meditative writing, and sometimes just kick back and pretend that I'm already on vacation!

So on this Independence Day, I wish you the freedom I'm finding this summer.

Snow Days

It's snowing here.  We've got about 4 inches.  In Buffalo, this would be to laugh at -- but here, where road clearing is less reliable, drivers are even less reliable than that, and the roads in the hills and hollers don't get cleared (or more likely, melted) for days and days, this is a big deal.  There are accidents on I-40, things in Knoxville, down off the mountain, are all closed up, and when I went out a few minutes ago to the grocery store and bank, there weren't very many people out and about.  I've never seen Kroger's so empty.  When I went in, I parked by a car left with its lights on.  I told the customer service desk, but they didn't announce it.  When I came out, the lights were still on, but it seemed to me they weren't quite as bright.  So I was a good Samaritan and turned them off.  Glad the car was unlocked, and there was no alarm on it!

Back porch (this was last month -- I brought that pot in so it wouldn't freeze & crack)

Front porch -- again, this is last month -- the wind wasn't blowing just the right way this month, so it doesn't look like this today.

And off the porch to the front yard, which looks almost just like this, except even though I shoveled the path, there's a layer of icy snow/sleet on it.

A bit ago I went out to the bank and the grocery store, before it all gets worse, as the forecast predicts.  All my meetings have been canceled, so the plan is another cozy day at home (like yesterday).  I'm thinking of a walk in the woods (with dogs or camera, I can't manage both).  I'm thinking of building a snowman (it's nice, wet, moldable snow).  I'm thinking I'll do lots of reading and journaling.  I'm thinking I'll get to watch Oprah today.  These two days off have been a gift, after the stress and busy-ness of last week -- stressful finance meeting, very large funeral for a much-beloved parishioner, breaking in a new parish secretary.  Nothing soul-destroying, just busy and stressful, with weather that was uncertain.  I love mini-vacations, especially when they're an unexpected gift!

I'm still succeeding (by the grace of God) with FA (Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous).  In my first month I lost 9.4 lbs (can I round up to 10?), and I'm 28 pounds less than I was at my all time high last March.  Lord willin' and the creek don't rise, I'll be more than 30 pounds lighter than last year by the time March rolls around again.  The whole point of this program is not just the weight loss (some people have weight to gain) but sane eating and sane living.  Now that I'm not acting out by stuffing myself, I'm having childhood memories of self-soothing with food, and plenty of insights about other addictive patterns in my life.  On their web site I read the motto:  "I got in it for the vanity and stayed in it for the sanity."  That makes sense to me.  I'm being pretty honest when I say it's not primarily vanity for me at this point, though looking better and wearing smaller, normal sizes would be wonderful.  It's mostly about how I feel, and about my physical health.  My kidneys aren't good, and I want to decrease the stress on them.  My cholesterol and triglycerides aren't great, and I want to control those.  I know that Type II diabetes is rampant in our culture, and I have Type I in my family history (maternal aunt) -- I don't want to tempt fate by overworking my pancreas (produces insulin).  I also want to feel something more like I feel in my dreams.  I don't mean that facetiously at all, like "in your dreams"; I mean it literally.  In my dreams I'm not aware of being particularly thin or beautiful or sexy -- but my body does whatever I need it to do with relative ease -- I can run, walk, climb (even fly -- but I'm not expecting that, truly!).  It's just a serviceable body that doesn't obsess me or cause me concern.  I don't have those "feet stuck in mud" or "trying to move through water," or "I need to run but my body's too heavy" type dreams.

As far as FA goes, I'm attending meetings on Friday morning, committing my food daily to the woman who is acting as my sponsor, and doing daily reading, meditation, and journaling.  My clothes are getting looser.  I'm not starving, and not even cranky (though I was the first week).  I am more aware of "sharp edges" inside when I'm under stress -- sharp edges that I used to soften with food.  Now I'm forced to cope in other ways, and right now the journey's about being aware and finding other ways to cope.  My assignment this week is to find a sponsor and to "network" -- making at least one phone call per day to someone in the program.  As an introvert, it's not easy for me to just call up people I don't know for myself.  If I'm calling for the church, I've got much better at doing it -- I can talk to anyone on behalf of the church, and I love public speaking and small group work.  But to do it for myself -- to reach out for support, especially to a total stranger -- that's going to take some practice!

So my doggies are sleeping, precious pups that they are.  Buddy's here in the study in his worn leather chair, and I'm sure Clementine is on the sofa, where she's not supposed to be.  I'm feeling cozy now.  Everyone who can, stay warm -- or have outdoor winter adventures and come home and get cozy.  I'm off to finish my journaling and ponder.  Heck, I might even start to put away my Christmas paraphernalia!

Christmas Is Coming!

This is my 150th post on this blog.  One hundred came and went, and I didn't even notice.  I certainly don't remember writing 150 posts -- maybe I should go back and count -- but no, I think I'll just trust Typepad on this one.

I can't believe that a week from right this minute I'll be at church for the Christmas Eve service.  But gradually, I've been decorating my own abode; this Sunday we'll decorate the church, as well.  We don't decorate the church till the Fourth Sunday of Advent, because we're a church that observes all the liturgical seasons, and it's important to observe Advent before we start celebrating Christmas.  It's important to prepare well for something as important as the Incarnation of God.

The holly and privet that I had around my home Advent wreath were badly shriveled; it was depressing to sit and look at them when I ate my meals.  Tonight I was looking at a few of my Christmas books, and had a brainstorm; so out with the old, in with the new!  Here's the second version of the Advent wreath:

A bunch of ornaments, some I bought myself 42 years ago, that didn't make it to the tree this year.  Actually, I must say, it looks prettier on the table than it does in this photo.

Another project, one of my favorites each year, is my creche or nativity scene.  My basic creche was bought 15 years ago or so at Odds & Ends, a now-defunct precursor to Big Lots.  But it's actually a pretty little, very conventional, porcelain set, complete with stable.  Over the years, I've added to it.  So far this year, the only creatures stirring in the stable are the animals; Mary and Joseph haven't even left Nazareth for Bethlehem yet, the shepherds are still watching o'er their flocks by night, and the wise men are wandering around somewhere in the desert, following the star.  They don't arrive until Epiphany, the day after the 12th Day of Christmas, January 6.  But animals are the ones who live in the stable, right?  So here's the creche, day 1:

I especially admire the lion, the anteater (gray, on the right), and the dragon that lives on the roof.  I love that the cement rabbit (rear left) and pig (rear right) are the same size, and both are bigger than the lion or the 3 elephants.  And the John Deere tractor (sitting on the ledge of the stable, center-right) is smaller than the mouse right next to it (holding a piece of yellow cheese).  I'm already smiling as I walk by.  You can see that the blue snack wagon is setting up for business -- lots of food to be sold when the people show up to wait for the arrival of the baby Jesus!

Another thing I enjoyed doing this year was turning the lovely, enormous book that my parish gave me this year (in recognition of my 10th anniversary of ordination to the priesthood) to the birth of Christ, and it sits right below a print of the nativity window in the University of the South chapel.

There are other touches of Christmas here and there -- red votives on the mantel, a beaded snowflake in my study window, mistletoe hung, cards clipped to a garland, stockings hung by the chimney with care.  Some folks love the frenzy of decorating all at once; I like the leisurely ritual of adding a few things each night in the two weeks or so before Christmas.

I've noticed all over the internet blogosphere that the Christmas "fashion" this year seems to be white, cream, white, cream, white.  Everyone, simply everyone is decorating in white.  I don't get it.  For me, Christmas is the red-and-green season, and the heirloom season.  I can't afford, nor do I desire, to buy a bunch of stuff in this year's "fashionable motif and color" -- no, I drag out the same old stuff each year: ornaments my daughter made, or my mother gave me, or I bought with my husband as a young married couple in 1968.  Occasionally I add a thing or two (obviously the manger dragon is a fairly recent purchase), but this is mostly a season of fond memories, rather than a fashion statement.  But in looking at those old Christmas books tonight I discovered something:  in 2000 and 2001, white was definitely the color, as well.  So if you do keep up with the current style in Christmas ornament, save them for 10 years, and they'll come back "in" again!

I mentioned before that I've joined a group called Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA).  This is my third week following the food plan (imperfectly), my 5th for attending meetings, and all along I've been reading the materials and including them in my daily journaling.  It was hard to begin thinking of myself as an addict; nobody wants to be that, do they?  But I'm beginning to realize that the label applies.  I'm realizing that the process of self-discovery and growth is more important than weight loss, though sticking to the food plan is part of the program.  I don't know when or if the label will ever feel comfortable, but someone said at the meeting today:  "If you don't acknowledge that you're sick, then you'll never put yourself through the inconvenience of getting well!"  Ain't it the truth.  Maybe I'm getting there.

Are visions of sugarplums dancing in your head yet?  No sugarplums for me this year!

Goats

Okay, my friend Fran posted this You-Tube of goats on her blog.  It was so darned cute that I couldn't resist sharing it with you.  I also put it on ny facebook, but I can't get a picture to share with you.  It's very cute, though -- go watch it.  I have parishioners who raise goats, and she describes one stage of "kid-hood" as deet-dee-deet-dee-deedley-deet."  That's what these babies are doing.  If you watch this video, you'll also see links to lots and lots more of them.  What fun!

My friend Fran also is immersed in lots of art-making.  She is a trained facilitator for Soul Collage, and makes really fine pieces herself.  I miss doing that, and may drag out my own collage book and work on a page.  This is, of course, a way to avoid what I really need to be doing, which is gathering, wrapping, and mailing Christmas gifts, finding who's left gift-less on my list, and making plans to purchase and send those gifts, post-haste.  I'm terrible about gifts, and mostly get them out before Epiphany.  Some years, if things are busy at church, I admit I don't get them out at all.  That's especially egregious as my friends and family are so very good about making sure that I have gifts to open on Christmas morning, since my holidays are spent mostly alone.  There's nothing nicer than coming in after Midnight Mass and opening a gift or two before bed.  Then I rewrite my sermon for the morning as I listen to carols, and fall into bed, only to get up Christmas morning for another service.

My Buddhist book group was cancelled today because an ice storm is expected.  We're studying Pema Chodron's Start Where You Are, one chapter per month -- and the chapters are really short!  But I'm finding that the month really gives me time to make the material part of who I am, part of my own thought process.

I find much of what Chodron says to be helpful in my dealings with other people, and in my parish work.  For a long time I've felt as though there's great overlap between Christian spiritual or wisdom teaching and Buddhist teaching.  This was first brought home to me when reading Thich Nhat Hanh.  Marcus Borg also refers to it in Reading the Bible Again for the First Time.  There are lots of conservative Episcopalians who would find my saying this horrifying, but it's true -- anyone can see it, if they take the time to do a little reading and study.

It has been so cold here that I've been drinking lots of hot tea -- decaf chai, whole milk, no sugar.  I make it in my coffee maker -- just run hot water through into the pot where the tea bags await.  A pot can last me a day or even two sometimes.  I use 8 bags for 10 cups of hot water, and just leave the bags in till the tea is all gone.  It doesn't get bitter or too strong.  Or maybe my taste buds are just failing me!

Everyone stay safe and warm, and pray that no harm or damage come to us up here on the Plateau, if the ice storm really hits.

Snow Day!

Oooh, it's snowing on the Plateau!  Snowing and snowing!  It has been snowing for just about 24 hours straight, without stopping.  Today it's very light snow, like powdered sugar -- but non-stop, nevertheless.  It's exciting!  Everything is closed, almost, and everything that can be cancelled in this part of the world, has been.

Brrr.  The wind is blowing, too, and the temperature is 13F.  Not quite a blustery day, but close.  You can see I've been out with the snow shovel; I've also been over to my office (all of about 200 feet away).  Earlier this morning I even took the car out for a quick trip to the grocery store; but mostly I'm staying inside and cozy today, doing some work from home, taking it very easy and enjoying the day off that everyone else is getting.

I'm thinking about a conference that I attended in October in Mississippi, one that I never took the opportunity to tell you about.  It's called CREDO, and is sponsored by the national Episcopal Church for active clergy (and also for full time lay professionals in the church).  This was my second CREDO conference, the last being 8 years ago.  CREDO stands for "Clergy Reflection, Education, and Discernment Opportunity."  It's a wonderful way that the church has developed to take care of its clergy.  We were at the Gray Episcopal Camp and Conference Center near Jackson, Mississippi, and it was for priests who all attended a previous CREDO, and who are roughly the same age and years of experience.  It lasted 7 days.  It was a great opportunity to reflect on where I've come, where I am now, and where I still want to go in my career and in my life.  They fed us well, gave us lots of information and food for thought, and assigned us to small groups where we could discuss our ongoing reflection and goal-setting.  Before we went, we were to have a physical exam and complete a health profile, fill out some (absolutely confidential) financial and vocational worksheets, and ask several people from our work life to fill out surveys about us.  This gave us some really valuable baseline information to contribute to the week's work, as well.

Here are some shots of the place we stayed:

This is what I saw out my bedroom window every morning -- mist rising over the lake.  Ethereally beautiful.

This is the labyrinth (with my shadow cast across it) where we could walk and meditate as we pondered our lives.

And this is the chapel where we worshipped daily.  The weather was perfect, perhaps just a bit too warm a couple of days, but we wore shorts and t-shirts most of the time.  The camp, located across the road from our section, had a swimming pool for our use, as well.

One evening, we went into Jackson for a nice dinner out.  The street where we ate still had the facades on the buildings that were used when "The Help" was filmed.  If you haven't read that book, you must.  I loved it.  Here are a couple of shots of the fun storefronts from the early 1960s:

You can't see what's playing at the Capri, but it's "Cleopatra," with Elizabeth Taylor.

It looks a lot like the streets of the town where I grew up.  Same era, too.

On the way home I went to see Graceland.  But I'll have to share those pictures and related reflections another time.

At the end of the conference, most of us had detailed goals and plans completed.  One of my biggest realizations from the conference is how isolated I've become here in my little corner of the world.  Little by little, this corner has, in fact, become littler.  I've become more and more alone, and it was all so gradual that I didn't even notice it.  I found excuses not to go out and be with people, as the little corner became very comfortable.  But God said, "It is not good for Adam (humankind -- not a man's name) to be alone."  And it's true.  So I've been making real efforts to incorporate other people into my life and activities.  Some of that is blogging here.  Some is about being in better touch with friends and family who are distant, and also with friends close at hand -- as well as seeking out new friends.  It has involved a little effort, a little stepping outside my comfort zone again.  We introverts can play alone very happily in our little corners, but we need others, just like the extroverts do.

Something I've noticed, since I recognized my own isolation, is that now I feel lonelier.  I think I kept those feelings locked up for a long, long time.  But sometimes I miss the people I love so much that I cry.  Eventually I think I'll be looking for employment that will bring me closer to those who have known me my whole life, or close to it.  It's funny how they all are more and more important, the older I get.  When I was a kid, or even up to middle age, I could flit off on my own adventures that took me far away:  Moving from Indiana to Buffalo, then off to Connecticut to seminary, then down here to the Plateau and this lovely little church.  But as I get older, and now especially that I've unlocked my lonely heart, being close to the old, good friends, and family who has known me my whole life, seems more and more important.

I'm eager to see how this new awareness unfolds in my life; it feels as though I've set off on another leg of my journey.

Everyone stay warm and dry, you hear now?