tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44649276553761977102024-02-19T02:37:53.544-08:00Cissy Lewis | BloggerCissy Lewis - Longtime Northern California Educational Leader
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-47801236371045102282018-01-03T06:24:00.000-08:002018-01-03T06:25:08.756-08:00Mary Oliver - Praying<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcARAtniXWQ0cENqijtDubx1Id-3Sof48vfaY09h9wCiXt8Z_eYtrJR80iKJ0m7z47wjPI00NONuFZgsaTa-ZTpSVNCxOTS_VEoX-NteXs0cqZEESLQVFBM_k_XcPkd5inXXEbT02EK4/s1600/Mary+Oliver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcARAtniXWQ0cENqijtDubx1Id-3Sof48vfaY09h9wCiXt8Z_eYtrJR80iKJ0m7z47wjPI00NONuFZgsaTa-ZTpSVNCxOTS_VEoX-NteXs0cqZEESLQVFBM_k_XcPkd5inXXEbT02EK4/s320/Mary+Oliver.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary Oliver</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />In this poem by Mary Oliver, she reminds us that our prayers don’t need to be elaborate or perfectly worded or even beautiful. They need to be authentic. They need to come from our hearts. They need to pay attention to the world and its details. As we enter the season of Advent, we need to pay attention, to be awake, to be ready for the miraculous birth, and to pray, in whatever form that praying takes.<br />
<br />
<h3>
“Praying”</h3>
<i>Mary Oliver 1935</i><br />
<br />
<blockquote>
It doesn’t have to be<br />
the blue iris, it could be<br />
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few<br />
small stones; just<br />
pay attention, then patch</blockquote>
<blockquote>
a few words together and don’t try<br />
to make them elaborate, this isn’t<br />
a contest but the doorway</blockquote>
<blockquote>
into thanks, and a silence in which<br />
another voice may speak.</blockquote>
<br />
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Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-31227584090040890222017-12-19T07:56:00.000-08:002017-12-19T07:56:45.055-08:00St. Francis - In Giving, We ReceiveSt. Francis of Assisi reminds us that In Giving, We Receive. That phrase may seem at first glance a total contradiction, but some of my sweetest memories involve my receiving as a result of my giving. I remember one of my mentors told me the summer before I started teaching that there were only two things I needed to know to be a successful teacher: “You have to love your subject, and you have to love your students.” In short, you have to be passionate about what you teach and whom you teach. Teaching is a relational affair among teacher, student, and subject matter. You give a great deal of yourself, of course – your knowledge, your expertise, and your care. But no matter how much I have given, I have received even more – trust and gratitude from my students, a deepened understanding of both the literature I have taught and the students I have mentored, and something I didn’t originally anticipate - a deeper understanding of myself. Teaching has been a profound gift that has enriched me in every way possible – and given me gifts beyond measure.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-1121158182961122162017-12-06T07:15:00.000-08:002017-12-06T07:16:05.577-08:00Benedict - Serious Faults<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.durhamworldheritagesite.com/images/St%20benedict%20delivering%20his%20rule%20to%20the%20monks%20of%20his%20order%20704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="709" height="253" src="https://www.durhamworldheritagesite.com/images/St%20benedict%20delivering%20his%20rule%20to%20the%20monks%20of%20his%20order%20704.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
In <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rule_of_Saint_Benedict" target="_blank">The Rule of Benedict</a>, when Benedict discusses serious faults and subsequent excommunication from the community (in this case, the monastic community), he reminds us that we all make mistakes and transgress against our communities and, consequently, often need time “to decide if being out of the community is really what [we] want, really what [we] need, really what will bring [us] happiness “ Time for reflection and self- examination can give us the opportunity to explore with focus and conscientiousness what we need in order to lead us back in the community with renewed commitment and vigor. Hence, the value of sabbaticals or long vacations or discernment retreats. As Sister Joan Chittister says in her commentary on the rule, “a human being needs help to be a human being.” We need one another in community.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-36886708354199691102017-11-30T09:40:00.000-08:002017-11-30T09:40:01.547-08:00Navajo Nation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fr-96mjxQCjwzpG_0Wmye0e4vi4DV3XPALG_qyTomtHGV38gWzzCkwucX3ruJ6SUSuO11UveR3PplcVZSBByxHgjDZuHO_UZyTCemPzKkbyjD0n_WfBUnZZ4NoT58PvondJ5dQ7h5-g/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fr-96mjxQCjwzpG_0Wmye0e4vi4DV3XPALG_qyTomtHGV38gWzzCkwucX3ruJ6SUSuO11UveR3PplcVZSBByxHgjDZuHO_UZyTCemPzKkbyjD0n_WfBUnZZ4NoT58PvondJ5dQ7h5-g/s200/index.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I have recently taken hikes on land in the Navajo Nation and sensed the power of that landscape – majestic and mystical, supremely mythical, and even eerily other-worldly at times. We know how sacred the land is to the Navajos and other Native American cultures.<br />
<br />
It is easy to feel that sacredness when walking through the mesas and arroyos, the canyons and peaks, gazing upon the multi-colored sandstone. As we notice the petroglyphs on those sandstone walls, we realize through those primitive pieces of art and records of a culture just how long we humans have been on this earth. The humans who carved the petroglyphs on those walls are our ancestors and family, and the landscape is our precious legacy.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-42886134755181352272017-11-23T09:25:00.000-08:002017-11-23T09:25:16.656-08:00Love and Power
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDvyUqkep3dcoHxRmJCW09JkKdbraIMWrhO4s8wjsd1bHQHGTPMUvw9MuHVxfZ_WENelaxzkE1ISp_h7TqtcABun5p46lwn6_DqoKYRs1pph721B9Rovc45q9phGBwQKLbCWeUrUW0PU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDvyUqkep3dcoHxRmJCW09JkKdbraIMWrhO4s8wjsd1bHQHGTPMUvw9MuHVxfZ_WENelaxzkE1ISp_h7TqtcABun5p46lwn6_DqoKYRs1pph721B9Rovc45q9phGBwQKLbCWeUrUW0PU/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">Some people
think that hate is the opposite of love. Some would argue, however, that power
is love’s opposite. To lord power over another is to deny him his emotional
freedom and to enslave him. Love is about setting someone free, honoring his
individuality, and giving him room to grow into his own. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">The connection that
occurs in a loving relationship results in expansiveness. We become our best
selves through loving and being loved. Someone else’s power over us diminishes
us. Truly loving relationships improve our emotional health as well as our
cognitive health: we become more present, more alert, more aware of not only
the beloved but also ourselves. Love is, in short, a powerful path to
self-knowledge.</span></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-20977890456287126652017-10-31T07:11:00.000-07:002017-10-31T07:11:17.694-07:00John McPhee - Draft No. 4<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/fb/John_Mcphee.jpg/1200px-John_Mcphee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="682" height="320" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/fb/John_Mcphee.jpg/1200px-John_Mcphee.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John McPhee - Draft No. 4</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I just read <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/28/magazine/the-mind-of-john-mcphee.html" target="_blank">Sam Anderson’s article on John McPhee in last Sunday’s New York Times magazine</a>. In it, we are reminded of how obsessed McPhee is with structure in his writing. His new book Draft No. 4 emphasizes the primacy of structure and its great pay-off. McPhee tells Anderson, “Structure has preoccupied me in every project.” Anderson says that “Structure, in McPhee’s writing carries as much meaning as the words themselves.” It used to be that structure was a key piece of any writing instruction. It certainly still is in McPhee’s writing course at Princeton. In fact, Draft No. 4 is essentially McPhee’s writing course, which he has been teaching since 1975. Unlike McPhee’s course, many writing courses today give up structure to free writing or self-expression, asserting that obsession over structure can limit the imagination or squelch creativity. McPhee attributes his obsession with structure to his high school English teacher who made him outline all his papers before he wrote them. When I started teaching, my mentor and the chair of the English department emphasized the essential value of outlining to free students to express themselves, pinning down the structure so that meanings could flow smoothly and organization and clear expression could be givens. I am so grateful for that instruction. It certainly made me a better writing teacher and a clearer writer.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-62928953352134478572017-10-24T12:23:00.001-07:002017-10-24T12:23:47.447-07:00Grand Canyon<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;">I just returned from a
trip to the Grand Canyon. Because I have a dog, I couldn’t get down into the
Canyon, but I was able to take a wonderful long hike from the Village out to
Hermit’s Rest along the South Rim. It felt like an otherworldly experience, as
though I were not only stepping back in geological time but also entering a
world uniquely its own. The words that came to my mind to describe the
experience and the views were “majestic,” “magnificent,” magical,”
‘mysterious.” Regardless of one’s religious inclinations, the Canyon is
definitely a spiritual space, one that touches one and moves one to the core. I
will be forever grateful that I now have those astonishing vistas as part of
the furniture of my imagination – to nurture and inspire and heal. </span>Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-31013514482817549442017-10-20T07:03:00.000-07:002017-10-20T07:03:30.680-07:00A Found Poem<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1995/heaney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="227" data-original-width="162" src="https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1995/heaney.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seamus Heaney</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The famous Irish poet Seamus Heaney was not particularly religious, but this poem gives us a glimpse into the power of the liturgy for him and the words that comprise it. The words may appear simple, but their pull is profound “like well water far down.”<br />
<br />
<h3>
A Found Poem</h3>
<div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Like everybody else, I bowed my head<br />during the consecration of the bread and wine,<br />lifted my eyes to the raised host and raised chalice,<br />believed (whatever it means) that a change occurred.<br />I went to the altar rails and received the mystery<br />on my tongue, returned to my place, shut my eyes fast, made<br />an act of thanksgiving, opened my eyes and felt<br />time starting up again.<br />There was never a scene<br />when I had it out with myself or with another.<br />The loss of faith occurred off stage. Yet I cannot<br />disrespect words like ‘thanksgiving’ or ‘host’<br />or even ‘communion wafer.’ They have an undying<br />pallor and draw, like well water far down.</blockquote>
– Seamus Heaney (2005)</div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-14740879343487069702017-09-26T08:10:00.001-07:002017-09-26T08:11:05.646-07:00Living With Contradiction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/917x36s7CxL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="506" height="200" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/917x36s7CxL.jpg" width="126" /></a></div>
In her book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Living-Contradiction-Introduction-Benedictine-Spirituality/dp/0819217549" target="_blank">Living With Contradiction, an Introduction to Benedictine Spirituality</a>, Esther de Waal reminds us that “We all stand in need of healing. We are all seeking wholeness.” She asserts that “We all know that unless we attend to our inner conflicts and contradictions, not only will we find ourselves torn apart by our inner divisions but also we shall very likely inflict wounds on those around us.” The good news is that “Our God, the God of love, does not want a broken and divided self. He created us for fullness of life.” There is not an ah-ha moment when wholeness comes or our brokenness disappears. It is the search of a life-time, and we cannot make the journey without God’s help; he is the potter to form and transform the clay that we are, to make the old give way to the new.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-47743548486528345072017-09-12T10:57:00.001-07:002017-09-12T10:57:30.568-07:00Thirst
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<div style="line-height: 22.75pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #111111; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">In her beautiful
poem, “Thirst,” Mary Oliver reminds us that we are all thirsting for something
we do not have, longing for the thing that will complete us and make us both
whole and holy. We must be patient for the moment when we come to understand
and also ready for that moment of revelation and epiphany.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 22.75pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 22.75pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #111111; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">Another morning and
I wake with thirst<br />
for the goodness I do not have. I walk<br />
out to the pond and all the way God has<br />
given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,<br />
I was never a quick scholar but sulked<br />
and hunched over my books past the hour<br />
and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,<br />
a little more time. Love for the earth<br />
and love for you are having such a long<br />
conversation in my heart. Who knows what<br />
will finally happen or where I will be sent,<br />
yet already I have given a great many things<br />
away, expecting to be told to pack nothing,<br />
except the prayers which, with this thirst,<br />
I am slowly learning.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 22.75pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #111111; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">— Mary Oliver,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thirst-Poems-Mary-Oliver/dp/0807068969/104-6379836-8972740?n=283155"><i><span style="color: #ca2017; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">Thirst</span></i></a><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-29287691986232269062017-09-06T10:38:00.001-07:002017-09-06T10:38:40.261-07:00I Am Not Italian
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<br />
<div class="poem">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">Billy
Collins reminds us that when we travel, even if we are not natives in the
country, we can “do as the Romans do” and enjoy the delights of the local
culture. By drinking an espresso in a “little white cup,” the speaker – not an
Italian – can taste “the same sweetness of life” as the locals.</span></div>
<div class="poem">
<br /></div>
<div class="poem">
<a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/07/i-am-not-italian/528702/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am Not Italian, Billy Collins</span></a></div>
<div class="poem">
<br /></div>
<div class="poem">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">I
am not Italian, technically speaking,<br />
yet here I am leaning on a zinc bar in Florence<br />
on a sunny weekday morning,<br />
my foot up on the smooth iron railing<br />
just like the other men, who,<br />
it must be said, are officially and fully Italian.</span></div>
<div class="poem">
<br /></div>
<div class="poem">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">It’s
8:40 and they are off to work,<br />
some in offices, others sweeping the streets,<br />
while I am off to a museum or a church<br />
to see paintings, maybe light a candle in an alcove.<br />
Yet here we all are in our suits and work shirts<br />
joined in the brotherhood of espresso,</span></div>
<div class="poem">
<br /></div>
<div class="poem">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13.5pt;">or
how is it said?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>La fratellanza
dell’espresso</i>,<br />
draining our little white cups<br />
with a quick flourish of the wrist,<br />
each of us tasting the same sweetness of life,<br />
if you take a little sugar, and the bitterness<br />
of its brevity, whether you choose to take sugar or not.</span></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-77852734276165816522017-07-20T09:41:00.002-07:002017-07-20T09:41:43.337-07:00GratitudeWhen we have been unjustly hurt, our reaction might understandably be anger and resentment, and we might be motivated to retaliate. Let’s say we experience a great loss because of someone else’s actions against us – a life-changing and devastating loss. How do we get beyond vengeance against the one who caused the loss and move towards gratitude for what we had that was lost? It’s a hard change of heart and mind: being thankful that we had the lost thing at all – a person, a job, a prized possession – for however long, rather than resentful for having been deprived of it. Gratitude can be a powerful avenue through the trauma of loss. It does not minimize the intense pain that always accompany the work of rebuilding one’s life in an entirely different context, but it can take away the feeling of anger and the conviction that a terrible injustice has been done, and it opens the way for thanksgiving and renewed trust in the world.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.comSan Francisco, CA, USA37.7749295 -122.4194155000000136.9717915 -123.71030900000001 38.578067499999996 -121.12852200000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-19234605050594082212017-07-14T09:11:00.000-07:002017-07-14T09:12:50.552-07:00Trinity SundayLast Sunday was Trinity Sunday for Christian traditions who believe in a Trinitarian God. It is a complicated theological concept – and many scholars have tried to make logical sense of three Gods in one: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I find that metaphors help.<br />
<br />
One sermon I heard used the images of the lover (God), the beloved (His Son, in whom He is well pleased), and the spirit of love that engulfs them and imbues all of us (the Holy Spirit). I have also heard of the metaphor of the dance to help us understand. God is the creator of the dance; his Son is embodying the dance, and the Holy Spirit is providing the music that make a harmonious dance possible. Both metaphors make clear that the concept of the Trinity is a relational one. We all strive to live in loving, harmonious relationship to our God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – and to one another. Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-11798319521239029362017-06-11T10:58:00.000-07:002017-06-11T10:58:00.786-07:00Pentecost
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Last Sunday was Pentecost, the visitation of the Holy Spirit
upon the twelve and by extension to us. The gift of the Holy Spirit is a
profound gift, infusing us with the strength to do God’s will : help the poor,
say our prayers, spread the gospel. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The metaphors
around the Pentecost are tongues of fire, streams of water, streams of breath:
all elements of the natural worlds help us understand the power of the
experience. If it is a river, let it flow. If it is a wind, let it blow. If it
is a fire, let it burn. In all cases, let it do it service in the spirit of
God’s love. </div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-68075820356151520522017-06-08T10:47:00.000-07:002017-06-08T10:47:20.854-07:00Hiking
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I have been lucky to live in places where great hikes are
readily accessible. I am also lucky to have a dog who likes the hikes as much
as I do. There is, of course, the beauty of the external landscape – trees
whispering in the wind, streams babbling along the path, wildflowers donning
their colors, and birds chirping overhead. There is also the meditative effect
of putting one foot in front of the other, as one’s internal landscape begins
to echo the beauty of the external surroundings. And then, there is the easy
discourse with hikers whom you pass, fellow travelers along the path. Being in
nature seems to promote a gentle courtesy, a shared appreciation of the space,
inviting us to tread lightly and to be respectful of one another. My dog
reminds me that there are other critters along the way, as she scampers after
squirrels and bunnies. The full tableau is a gift that inspires gratitude.</div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-66720541116942431412017-05-20T11:06:00.000-07:002017-05-20T11:06:11.589-07:00Option B
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I just read an excerpt from Sheryl Sandberg’s new book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Option-Adversity-Building-Resilience-Finding/dp/1524732680" target="_blank">Option B: Facing Adversity, BuildingResilience, and Finding Joy</a>. </i>In it<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>she
talks about how shocked she was by the number of friends who did not ask her
how she was doing after the death of her husband: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“I felt invisible, as if I
were standing in front of them but they couldn’t see me. When someone shows up
with a cast, we immediately inquire ‘What happened?’ If your life is shattered,
we don’t.”</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She goes on to talk about the white elephant in the room that nobody
wanted to touch. Isn’t it odd that folks – even our closest friends – are so
uncomfortable in the presence of dramatic emotional pain and loss? Not knowing
what to say, they say nothing, a fact that only leads to emotional distance,
just what the person in pain does not need. Both sides need to reach out and
lean in.</div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-12952527389549738462017-05-17T11:03:00.001-07:002017-05-17T11:03:16.778-07:00Billy Collins
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I recently listened to a performance of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billy_Collins" target="_blank">Billy Collins</a>
reading a collection of his poems. Not all poets read their own poems well, but
Collins's readings are superb, the cadence and tone of his voice a perfect
vehicle for the poems on the page. Listening to his poems, it is no surprise to
me that Collins is so wildly popular. His poems speak of the ordinary and the
everyday in a new and often very ironic way that illicits laughter and delight. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Humor is one of the most distinguishing characteristics of his poetry. He knows
how to be both clear and mysterious, simple and profound. Whether he is
spoofing love poems that pile on excessive metaphors on the beloved - as he
does in "<a href="https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/litany/" target="_blank">Litany</a>," or describing the poignant vulnerability of a
building ruined by an explosion - as he does in "Building With Its Face
Blown Off," he is a master of his craft.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/56Iq3PbSWZY/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/56Iq3PbSWZY?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-62193263426585205222017-04-07T12:28:00.001-07:002017-04-07T12:28:41.877-07:00Clouds and Daffodils
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I recently thought of Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely
as a Cloud" when I was watching all the cloud formations as I drove
through New Mexico and Arizona. Of course, the poem is really about daffodils
and memory, the clouds being simply a simile to describe the speaker's
wandering: "lonely as a cloud." But I was glad to be reminded of
daffodils, too, especially as winter gives way to spring this April. The
daffodils in the poem are "sprightly" and "jocund'" as they
"flutter in the breeze." </div>
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As the speaker watches them, he has no idea
how much joy they will bring him later, when he conjures them up in his memory
and "dances with the daffodils."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So powerful is memory that it can reproduce a vivid scene from our past
as though it were with us in the present: we experience not only the visual
vista but also the emotional experience. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/OnqCvDplPeA/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OnqCvDplPeA?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-35462696700196483782017-03-29T15:12:00.000-07:002017-03-29T15:12:05.031-07:00Thirst<div class="MsoNormal">
<sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Thirst takes many
forms, such as the physical thirst for water or the emotional thirst for love.
There are also spiritual thirsts, which long to be quenched, as Mary Oliver
reminds us in her poem.<o:p></o:p></span></sup></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">Thirst by Mary Oliver<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">Another morning and I wake with thirst <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">for the goodness I do not have. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">I walk out to the pond and all the way God has <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">given us such beautiful lessons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">and hunched over my books past the hour <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long
conversation in my heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet
already I have given a great many things <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt;">except the prayers which, with this thirst, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #292929; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I am slowly learning.</span><sup><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></sup></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-18185175490911720312017-03-24T15:10:00.002-07:002017-03-24T15:10:39.431-07:00Lion<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">I recently saw Garth Davis’s
movie “Lion” and was deeply moved by the film’s depiction of what it feels like
for a small boy to be lost. Saroo, the main character, gets separated from his
older brother and then accidentally travels by train over 1,000 miles from his
home, ending up in Calcutta, a city foreign in every way from his village.
Garth does a masterful job of conveying Saroo’s emotions with minimal dialogue.
With a look or a smile, a cry or a frown, Saroo shows his thoughts and
feelings. We are reminded of the power of non-verbal communication and the
intuitive knowledge of children. Though vulnerable and scared, Saroo is also
tough and resilient – and acutely sensitive to his surroundings. Memories of
and love for his mother and brother keep him going, determined to get back
home. Among questions the movie raises are what constitutes home and family,
and how love and memories sustain us through separation and loss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-39942122981877884682017-03-16T08:50:00.000-07:002017-03-16T08:50:02.336-07:00PassionHow interesting that the root of the word passion is from the Latin “passio,” which means “suffering.” If you are really passionate about something or someone, you will definitely be inspired by and fulfilled by that person or thing; but you will also be subject to pain or heart break.<br />
<br />
The passionate way can be rocky even as it is exhilarating. To feel deeply can bring both joy and despair. I believe that living with passion is living a fulfilled life, but we must be ready for the suffering that can come with that fulfillment - especially if we dare to take an unorthodox path or risk to raise our voice for the truth against the prevailing wind.<br />
<br />
As we approach the season of Lent and retrace Christ’s last steps, remember that the journey from the Last Supper to the Cross is referred to as “The Passion.”Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-6325600418487076872017-03-12T08:36:00.000-07:002017-03-12T08:36:06.527-07:00Perspective: How Things Appear Differently From Up AboveI went flying with a friend this week, and it made me think about perspective: how things appear differently from up above, looking down; how we have to reorient ourselves to recognize from above what is familiar from the ground; how both sizes and distances change depending on our vantage point.<br />
<br />
As we begin a new year and a new chapter in our nation’s history, I am going to remind myself to try on different perspectives, especially ones with which I am unfamiliar – to see things fresh and anew. Looking at an issue from multiple angles can help me know it more deeply and more fully, and ask me to step out of my familiar perspective to see from someone else’s point of view.<br />
<br />
Consider Wallace Stevens’s poem “<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/45236" target="_blank">Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird</a>,” in which Stevens asks us to look at the common blackbird in new ways.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-14739424547500494922017-03-08T08:25:00.000-08:002017-03-08T08:25:44.048-08:00Benedict of Nursia's Rule of Benedict<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1dRRT3_S9Oh4CIMTbW9J_5gICNbvQcNJfZXGH7EFEkYhRo0hKMDGaOSbu5450Dfvu3t14PfCG4aXKALD7F9eFM3_D9Lux_mUGb0-LgZm8jOMA5Jhhq7mFIkUW-NM2ELfeR7m2JZVKoUA/s1600/index.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1dRRT3_S9Oh4CIMTbW9J_5gICNbvQcNJfZXGH7EFEkYhRo0hKMDGaOSbu5450Dfvu3t14PfCG4aXKALD7F9eFM3_D9Lux_mUGb0-LgZm8jOMA5Jhhq7mFIkUW-NM2ELfeR7m2JZVKoUA/s200/index.jpeg" width="163" /></a></div>
Benedict of Nursia, a mystic and wisdom thinker, lived 1,500 years ago; but his <a href="http://www.osb.org/rb/text/toc.html" target="_blank">Rule of Benedict</a> continues to guide monastics and lay people alike to this day. The first paragraph of the Rule of Benedict invites us to <i>“listen carefully to his instructions and to attend to them with the ear of our hearts.”</i> <br />
<br />
Careful listening is the key to being fully human and alive. Let nothing go by that could nourish our souls and lend meaning to our lives, Benedict seems to say. I especially like the notion of listening with the <i>“ear of our hearts”</i> – in other words, listening with real feeling, not just intellectual curiosity. In a world of sound bites, we have little practice to listen carefully and with full attention. To do so is to be that much more connected to one another and the world around us at the level of our hearts as well as our minds.
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-47744546861810633442017-02-14T10:38:00.000-08:002017-02-16T10:39:33.301-08:00St. Francis and the Sow
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">On this Valentine’s Day, I would
simply offer up this poem that reminds us that we are all lovely and loveable.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">St. Francis and the Sow</span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">Galway Kinnell</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">The bud </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">stands for all things, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">even for those things that don’t
flower, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">for everything flowers, from
within, of self-blessing; </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">though sometimes it is necessary </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">to reteach a thing its loveliness, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">to put a hand on its brow </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">of the flower </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">and retell it in words and in touch
</span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">it is lovely </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">until it flowers again from within,
of self-blessing; </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">as Saint Francis </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">put his hand on the creased
forehead </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">of the sow, and told her in words
and in touch </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">blessings of earth on the sow, and
the sow </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">began remembering all down her
thick length, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">from the earthen snout all the way </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">through the fodder and slops to the
spiritual curl of the tail, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">from the hard spininess spiked out
from the spine </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">down through the great broken heart
</span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">to the sheer blue milken dreaminess
spurting and shuddering </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">from the fourteen teats into the
fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them: </span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">the long, perfect loveliness of
sow.</span></div>
Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4464927655376197710.post-38994679060279645902017-01-20T14:48:00.000-08:002017-01-20T14:48:08.589-08:00Bread - The Staff of Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4VM1ZCVGOWvFP6WiULEC7eN761IxPBKYALBJv8aKjEMPGEY-NUNtis2Uv2jwC2r4Po8iOfPJTf5dU2F-b85_TAs_3W71b7aiax5c411G4n-ppV02mqHQwurAiJpGOQdh8qGg-mbeqc4/s1600/Mischbrot-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4VM1ZCVGOWvFP6WiULEC7eN761IxPBKYALBJv8aKjEMPGEY-NUNtis2Uv2jwC2r4Po8iOfPJTf5dU2F-b85_TAs_3W71b7aiax5c411G4n-ppV02mqHQwurAiJpGOQdh8qGg-mbeqc4/s200/Mischbrot-1.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
I know a wonderful bakery where hundreds of loaves of fresh bread are baked daily: sour dough, rye, farm, and paisano, to name a few. Seeing them all stacked on the racks is a thing of beauty; and once you bite into any one of them, you are transported to a place of comfort and home.<br />
<br />
Bread is often referred to as <i>“the staff of life.”</i> I can understand why. Every country and culture in the world has its particular bread, and bread cuts across all socio-economic groups. Consider the roots of the word <i>“companion”</i>: com and pan: <i>“the person with whom you break bread.”</i><br />
<br />
In the New Testament, Jesus broke bread with his disciples and directed them to <i>“Take and Eat"</i> of the bread that became representative of his body and his love for them and the world. Bread feeds us all, both body and soul.Cissy Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17474021294155879132noreply@blogger.com0