Walking in the Garden

    I've finished all the planting for the moment.  I've laid all the mulch for now.  I've dealt with sprinkler issues and arranged to have the rock ring in the front replaced with crushed granite.  I'm waiting to hear back from Contra Costa County's "Lawn to Garden Rebate Program" about replacing the one area of my yard that is still grass (well, dead grass).  At this point, then, all there is to do is maintenance: checking on the new plants to make sure they are not needing more or less water or just a little attention, looking for those weeds that are persistent and are trying to push through my weed barriers, trimming the trees a bit so they don't make walking on the path difficult. I add seeds to the bird feeders, I clean and refill the hummingbird feeder. I still get up every morning early and walk through the garden as I do this maintenance. I do the same in the afternoon when it is cool enough and often in the evening as well.

    Today I found myself thinking of these verses from Genesis 2:8-9 "During that day's cool evening breeze, they heard the sound of God walking in the garden... God called to the man and said to him, "Where are you?" 

    There is something incredible about walking among the plants (and animals) in the gardens that one has planted. I check in with each new plant that has not established itself yet, looking at its leaves, checking on its size and on the ground around it to see if it is settling in.  I talk to the plants, encouraging them, asking them if there is anything else they are needing. I talk to the birds and scold the squirrels trying to eat my tomatoes.  I love doing this.  It brings me a sense of calm, but also a strong feeling of wonder.  They are each their own self, which means that I ultimately do not control if they thrive or wither.  A friend passed on plants to me that he had propagated from his own yard, some of which have established and are thriving, a few that are struggling that I'm nurturing and hope will pull through, and some which died almost before I got them into the ground. There was nothing I could do about those plants. They weren't happy with having been moved from the cooler, closer-to-the-bay climate to the hot, smokey, dry summer of the Bay Area east of the Oakland hills.  Still, even those that have died are part of the wonder for me.  What likes my yard?  What seems happy to establish here?  What doesn't like it and just won't thrive here no matter what I do?  Who is each plant as the individual it is, even within its own species?  What does it need?  

    And again, I found myself thinking about this passage from Genesis.  In this story, God planted a garden, created animals and people, but once they were created, God no longer had control over how they would do or what they would do. They were creations, not puppets, each with its own thoughts and feelings and choices. The story of Adam and Eve is a story of making choices that were other than what God wanted. Despite this, God still chose relationship with them: they were part of God's garden, an important part, and even when they made choices God didn't like, God still nurtured and planted them where they would best thrive: no longer in that garden, but in the greater world.  That is the risk in creating (or planting, in the gardener's world) beings that are other, that are separate, that are themselves.  

    I found myself wondering if God also had that feeling of awe and wonder as God's creations made their own choices, even when they chose not to thrive well in the garden into which God placed them.  Does God delight in us just as we delight in the plants we put in our own gardens? I can't imagine God feels otherwise... when you create a garden: when you plan, when you dig, plant and nurture their lives, when you spend time and energy pulling the weeds that would hurt or kill the the plants you want, and when you touch the ground and plants and place them into the ground, deciding where they should go, it is automatic and normal to form attachments to those plants, to those beings. 

    And so, part of my delight in walking through my own garden is to walk with the God who delights in God's own gardens as well.  We are a part of those, an important part.  And our own gardens are joint efforts, not only with the plants and birds, but also with the God who created each and every plant, animal and person.  

    I return to work tomorrow.  But I have committed to walking in my garden each day before leaving for work.  It centers me, it brings me joy, it connects me with all life, and it connects me with God.    

More Reflections On This Time

    I've had some time to reflect more on my sabbatical time, and what I found, once again, was that the parts I enjoyed the most were the unplanned and unscheduled surprises.

    Starting with my time with eldest and youngest as we toured the gardens in CA, the two gardens that we enjoyed the most were the unexpectedly large gardens of Davis, and Descanso garden in LA.  Neither were on the list of gardens we planned to see, neither made it into my sabbatical grant application, and yet, these two gardens were by far the most interesting, most beautiful, most serene gardens we saw.  Our time in both was the best we had of any of the gardens, and I find myself looking at the pictures I took from those two especially.  

    Then when David and I were on Iona, the hikes I took to parts of Iona that I didn't even know existed were an amazing gift.  The view from our room as well as the view from the hotel conservatory were also unexpected gifts.  The conversations I had with strangers were an amazing addition to my time there, and even the extended train trip back to Glasgow was a gift of scenery and time to just rest and be with David. The little hotel we stayed at in Glasgow was also a gift.  From the street it looked like a dive, a hole in the wall, difficult even to spot.  But when we went into the building and ascended to the 6th floor where the actual hotel was, we found a truly lovely place that had set out free homemade cakes and tea for its guests.  I ate an amazing mocha cake with my tea, that was a very unexpected surprise.

    On our UK tour, too, while there were scheduled visits I really enjoyed (such as listening to the story teller and the time with the forager), most of the times that I reflect on and enjoyed the most were the unexpected and unscheduled times.  I loved that the day David and I arrived in London, we learned that the Mousetrap was running that evening, tickets were available and we had time to go see it! What a gift for this Agatha Christie fan!  I also had time to hike out to Hyde park on my own and spend time really enjoying that garden.  The Kew garden in London as well as the gardens I found in Bath, in Weymouth and at St Fagan's National Museum of History that weren't on the tour, but that I took the time to find, stepping out of the scheduled events to do so... these were by far the best gardens we saw!  While others went shopping in Windsor, David and I found a garden with a Ferris wheel that allowed us an incredible view of the river and of Windsor Castle.  The hikes I took by myself in Lulworth and Lynton, also while others were shopping, were incredible!

    Even coming to Porto to begin the Camino was filled with unexpected and wonderful gifts: I loved walking around Porto with David, even though it was in pursuit of a dentist to look at my tooth.  With Middle, I loved walking around Porto to try to get him a better backpack.  As I mentioned before, we didn't find one for him, but instead, we found this amazing garden that overlooked the river.  This was completely off my radar, and yet, it was beautiful, serene, and to just walk around it with my son incredible!  Even needing to go home early had its gifts.  My friend who helped me set up my time and stays for the Camino kept in constant contact with both Middle and I as he finished out his pilgrimage.  Having that extra support and connection with someone I value so very deeply was also an unexpected but deeply appreciated gift. 

    Now I'm back and trying to garden in the mornings.  Here, too, I've found some unexpected gifts.  For example, last night I dreamed that one particular plant in my garden was crying for help and was sagging and not doing well.  This morning I went out to look at it.  I have planted over 30 plants this summer, but this was a very particular plant that I dreamed about.  Sure enough when I went out to look over all the plants, it was this very plant that needed a little extra TLC: it was wilty and struggling.  None of the others were.  I don't know what you might make of that, but I have my own interpretation.  It is wonderful to feel so connected to this life that I've been surrounding myself with.  

    As I mentioned in other posts, I can focus on what went wrong and was a disappointment, or I can take the space to focus on the unexpected and lovely gifts that come my way every day.  Today I am remembering and enjoying what was unplanned but beautiful.  I am grateful that for me, there are by far more unexpected wonders than unexpected disappointments.  

Gifts of Sabbatical

     Yesterday was a wonderful day.  It started with more gardening, specifically finishing that middle round section with more sheet mulching and also putting more mulch around my roses.

    Then I took BART into the city to play with a friend.  We went to the Botanical Gardens and the Japanese tea garden.  It was a wonderful time of talking, breathing in the scents and fresh air of the gardens, eating, and just being together.  

    Afterwards I took BART back to Lafayette.  I walked near the creek by myself for an hour, again breathing in the air, talking to God, listening to the birds.  I then met another friend for tea and good conversation. And finally I took BART home.  

    Through that time with friends, those wonderful conversations, both with my friends and with God, a few things became very clear to me.  

    First, even when I'm working, I really need to find ways to make time.  I need to make time for my friendships.  They are important for me and hopefully for my friends as well.  I also really need to make time to walk and to garden.  Even if it's just for a half hour a day of gardening and a half hour of walking, that time for contemplation, for prayer, for getting my hands into the soil is essential for my well-being.  I have to be more intentional about not working 12-14 hour days but actually taking the time to be the most whole I can be.  I won't be a good pastor if I'm too busy to care for myself and this isn't up to anyone else but me.  I need to model good self-care as well as taking that prayer time intentionally.

    Secondly, I really enjoyed taking BART to the city, back from the city to Lafayette and finally home.  I enjoyed not having to worry about traffic or crazy drivers.  I enjoyed being able to text or read or just look at the scenery out the train windows.  I enjoyed avoiding the rush hour craziness (I came home around 5:30, so I would have been right in the middle of it if I'd driven).  It was fun to people watch.  I found it freeing to not worry about parking times or parking places, to just be myself with my water bottle and phone and nothing else.  The new BART cars are also fairly clean and it was a nice reminder that public transportation is there for a good reason and is a really good choice when I am by myself traveling.   

    All in all, a truly wonderful day for which I am deeply grateful.

Some days…

     Sunday we continued our England travels by exploring the national parks of Exmoor and Dartmoor.  We stopped in Lynton, where most of our group spent their time shopping.  Of course, we took off, walking out to the Valley of the Rocks… incredible views!  

    We also saw a number of truly beautiful gardens on our way out of the city… all in people’s yards.  Afterwards we took the Lynton and Lynmouth Cliff Railway (which is “the highest and the steepest totally water powered railway in the world”) down to Lynmouth, a little village at the bottom of those cliffs.  We learned about the flood that came and destroyed the city, killing many and taking many homes into the ocean.  David and I continued to be a bit rebellious and while others were exploring cafes and grabbing lunch, we walked along the river to beautiful views of falls, flowers and small gardens.  We then headed to Porlock for lunch, but it being Sunday, everything was closed. So we went on and had a short stop in Minehead, which is a little larger community.  While the rest of our group again ate and shopped, we went on a search for gardens and found some lovely flower gardens. 

    Afterwards we spent the night at Bovey Castle.  We arrived there fairly late with just enough time to eat and go to bed and we left early yesterday morning for our Monday adventures.  It was a disappointment to all of us that we were there for just a few short hours.  For me, I’ve never stayed in a place so nice before and honestly felt a bit intimidated.  It was beautiful!

    Monday, yesterday, we only had one real stop: we went to Dorset for the things I was most looking forward to about this tour: we went to Athelhampton Manor and Gardens where we had high tea and then explored the manor and Elizabethan gardens.  We were given a tour of the manor by a highly educated historian.  He was interesting, but I started to panic when what was supposed to be an hour tour approached the second hour mark.  I didn’t want to listen anymore, as interesting as it was: I was worried there would not be enough time for the gardens, so I snuck out and went for a marvelous stroll in the gardens by myself, to be joined a half hour later by David who had stayed for the end of the house tour. Truly lovely.  

    Last night as well as this evening we stay in Evershot, a small village of 230 residents!!  But the grounds where we are staying are once again INCREDIBLE!

     The last two days were very good days for us!  

    But one of those two days was not such a good day for our bus driver.  Our driver has worked for tours for six years, and according to him, has never had problems.  But many of the roads he was driving on were TIGHT in their turns and extremely narrow, which meant that when we were faced with a car coming the other direction, sometimes there were real issues about which car would back up, how far, and how turns would be made at all by such a big coach.  Up until now, our driver has done fine. But yesterday as he moved way over towards the hedge wall to give enough room for a fast on-coming car to pass, there was an ominous crunching sound.  Sure enough, the hedge wall was hiding a brick wall which significantly scraped the bus. Then, as he went around one very steep curve, the back of the bus hit the ground and knocked loose a part of the rear fender.  Finally as we were on the M5, suddenly those of us near the front saw the blur of wings and heard a loud BAM as a pigeon flew into the windshield.  Our driver was beside himself.  But his day did not completely end there… The tour guide told him what room he was supposedly staying in at the hotel and told him to ask the front desk for the key.  He did so, was given the key, and when he opened the door to the room, he was greeted by a completely naked elderly woman just stepping out of the shower. He apologized in response to her screams, hastily shut the door, and went back to reception to find he was actually supposed to be in a different room.  Our driver could not figure out why everything in his day seemed pear-shaped. 

    What was a glorious day for us was a BAD day for him.  People can be in very close proximity to one another and yet have completely divergent experiences.  Those experiences tend to effect how we see and ultimately understand the world. Even when we are in the same space each person’s experience is vastly different and therefore effects our feelings and thoughts.  Is it any wonder that we have a hard time understanding one another?  Objectivity, while important, can be elusive for any of us.  For me, this so obvious example of people in the same situation experiencing the day in such opposing ways was a reminder to be more grace-filled towards those around me.  Much of the time we just don’t know what others are going through.

Back in England

     Thursday we started the day by visiting Glastonbury and the historical Abby grounds.  The people of this little village believe Glastonbury to be the most spiritual place in the world.  Hm.  I would agree that it was what we call a “thin” place: a place where the divide between what is corporal and what is spiritual seems to thin a bit.  This felt especially true for David, but that is his story to tell.  The Abby grounds are where, according to the abby, King Arthur’s remains were found and reburied for a long time.  There were also some lovely gardeny areas on the grounds which were beautiful to see.

    Afterwards we went to Plymouth and went on a short “cruise” around the bay from whence Sir Francis Drake and later the Mayflower set forth.  I think that would have been more interesting if it hadn’t been pouring rain and so windy that the places the cruise director pointed out we were pretty much unable to see…

    In the evening we were in Devon and in Dartmoor in particular where we had the wonderful gift of hearing a story teller talk about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s inspiration for The Hound of the Baskervilles. We also heard about Pixies and witches and it was enrapturing just to hear this fantastic story teller weave her tales, sharing with us local legends.

    Friday then we spent along the coast of Cornwall.  We visited Looe and had a wonderful walk along the beach, then went on to Penzance (yes, as in the pirates of…) and finally to St. Ives where David and I found a number of beautiful garden areas as well as walked along another beach.  

    Today is Saturday and I’m having some tummy troubles: too much rich food.  Too much food, period.  My body has had enough.  Nonetheless I (probably foolishly) set off to go where we are led. We started the morning by going to Tintagel Castle where, supposedly, King Arthur was conceived…

    The hilly and aerobic walk greatly improved my mood.  After that we went to Padstow… Also beautiful. David and I, ever on the hunt for gardens, only briefly spent time on the wharf.  The rest of the time we found paths and discovered memorials, wildernesses, and incredible views.

    Then we went to Port Isaac, where Doc Martin was based and filmed. 

    My learning about my travel style deepens.  On this tour, we have been taken to specific places with specific things in mind for us to see, often having to do with shopping and visiting city-like places.   But my interests are off the beaten path.  So when given free time, we find our way out from where the rest of our tour is roaming.  It really works for me as I’m able to see what I came here to see: the wilds, the gardens. I’m also finding that many of the best “gardens” are in people’s small yards, or in the country landscapes of England.  The flowers that naturally grow here (many valerians, fox gloves, Queen Anne’s Lace, Elderflower, daisies, even mustard) are so beautiful!  They line the pathways and roads, creating a natural beauty we can only begin to duplicate in our yards.  I’m not saying the tour is un-valuable.  We learn a lot of history from the tour guide, and we go to places that were not necessarily on my radar at all: the talk with the forager was amazing, as was listening to the story-teller.  Not sure we could have found either of those on our own. But my favorite parts of this England/Wales part of my sabbatical have been the time I’ve had with David, walking at our own pace and in our own space: seeing what is often known only to the locals or others who are willing to venture out a little farther.  As the tour continues we are opting out of more of the dinner “optional events” to do our own thing.  The meals that these options provide are, as I said above, too rich and too big for me anyway.  I’d rather avoid the expensive overeating (for me: no judgment on others’ choices) and see what small mom and pop shops, cafes and restaurants are selling to those who live here.  

    The other advantages for me of these tours: first, I don’t have to drive, so I’m free to just look around at the scenery.  Secondly, they give a taste and inform us about what we might want to dig into more deeply if given the chance to come back someday.  I know I want to return to that history museum in Cardiff, for example.  I would like to explore more fully the national parks here for their beauty and connections to nature.  We didn’t really see the Cotswold other than driving through, and I would love to have a chance to really visit some of those small house gardens which I’ve heard are amazing.  

    All in all, I’m deeply aware of the gifts of this time.  I’m also tired, and I find myself missing the people who are normally such an important part of my daily life: my kids, my congregation, my lectionary group, my extended family, my friends…All of you are often in my thoughts and I hope you are all well.  I am halfway through my sabbatical as of today, which has both flown by, and at the same time drags on.  Time is weird that way.  I continue to look forward to the lessons of tomorrow.

Plant Lessons

     The last two days we explored Bath, home of my favorite author Jane Austen (and we went on a tour of her presence in Bath as well as spending time in a Jane Austen museum) as well as place of the Roman Baths (which we visited to learn the history throughout the years). I was also able to visit and experience a number of gardens including the Botanical Gardens within the Royal Victoria Park, the Parade Gardens and the Sydney Gardens. Today we drove through the countryside to Wales where we will spend the next couple days.  Soon after entering Wales we visited a well known kitchen garden (attached to a fantastic restaurant) and then had the extraordinary experience of meeting and being taught in an interactive outdoor classroom by Adele Nozedar, an author and foraging expert who talked about reconnecting with our roots, with the earth, with the plants around us.  As she talked about the spirituality of the plants, their sacredness and the lessons they teach, I felt I had met a kindred spirit.  After our lesson, she and I talked about books we both love and the power of gardening and being in relationship with the plants around us.  But there are two things she said that are really sticking with me this evening.

    She said she really hated the word “weed.”  “What is a weed?” she asked.  It is only a label we put on some plants and don’t put on others.  It labels some as “bad” and in need of being uprooted.  She said every plant has gifts to give, lessons to teach, and when we label some as weeds we stop seeing them.

    Hm.  I could take this in so many directions.  First, we do this with people as well.  When we label someone a criminal, a bum, an illegal, it is a way of dismissing them, of no longer seeing them, or, as with most times when we label someone, never seeing them in the first place. It is unjust and dangerous: for it separates us from one another and gives us permission to avoid really getting to know one another fully.  But secondly, I agree with her about our labels around plants. Yarrow is a common “weed” but also a beautiful plant in its own right.  Wild flowers are often seen as weeds.  I started to wonder as I planted my garden, and now continue to wonder, how to make the decisions about what plant should be allowed to live and grow and what should not. When I decide I don’t want a plant in my yard (and two that come to mind are thistles of various kinds and scarlet pimpernel), what is best to be done about it?  I struggle with this. Scarlet pimpernel, for example, is really quite lovely.  But it takes over everything in the yard, strangling and spreading as it goes. It is invasive, a non-native plant to the Americas and toxic.  But as I’ve read about it, it, too has gifts to give and has been used medicinally for centuries in many different cultures. Should I label it a weed?  Or is there another way to remove it without vilifying it?  

    The second thing that Ms. Nozedar said that I want to share is actually a story of a practice in Llanfrynach, Wales where we had our foraging lesson.  She said that there were times, as there always are, when two people would be feuding within a community.  If it became too much for the community, they had a practice.  They would send the two people to “the tree.”  As the two people walked towards the tree they were permitted to argue and bicker as harshly or loudly or argumentatively as they wanted until they reached the edges of the Tilia tree (linden tree) which creates under it’s big branches a quiet refuge.  Once the two came to the edge of the tree, they were to step inside the tree in silence, and stop talking.  They were required then to sit together in the silence under the tree until one or the other was moved to apologize.  Only then were they allowed to leave to return home.  

    What a powerful story!  I think we have forgotten how to fight with each other, or rather, how to reconcile and deal with our differences.  Perhaps it is time to resurrect this practice, first speaking honestly about our own thoughts and feelings, and then sitting quietly together, thinking about what the other said, being in the stillness until there is movement in our hearts and a place and space to see our own culpability in any conflict and to forgive one another.  The tree plays a big part in this.  It creates the sacred space of listening and quietly waiting for healing, for answers. It also acts as a witness. It stands as a testimony to all who have entered under its boughs and been brought to consciousness of their own failings, moved to repent and to ask for forgiveness which then opens the door to reconciliation.  It is a reminder as well as a symbol of what is possible when people are intentional about working through their disagreements.

    I am so grateful for these stories and all that I learned today.    

Gardens and God

      Yesterday we went to Kew gardens and spent about five hours there.  Then we came back to our hotel in London, David got in some work (he’s required to work a certain number of hours while we are on this trip so he’s trying to squeeze those in while he can) while I walked over to Hyde park and walked it’s length, seeing many gardens, statues, lakes and wildlife. I found myself reflecting a lot on the nature of our relationships, both with nature and with God.

      I recently read the amazing and wonderful book, Braiding Sweetgrass, by Robin Wall Kimmerer.  I highly recommend it for anyone.  Professor Kimmerer is not only a botanical researcher and teacher, but she is also a Native American who brings with her the values of respect and appreciation for nature.  She discusses white Western culture’s “utility” mentality when it comes to the earth and the world.  We take what we want and see it as our right to do so.  Even when we talk about sustainability, she says, we do so often with the framework of being able to sustain our use and abuse of the planet’s resources.  We rarely, unlike Native cultures, think about the earth in terms of relationships in which there is a mutual give and take between all parties involved, between plants, animals, humans, and even the soil, rocks and minerals of our world.

     But as I walked around the gardens, I found myself thinking that maybe gardens bring a bit of exception to this utility thinking, at least the ones that are done well.  We do give back: we till the soil, we water the ground, we pull weeds that might harm, overpower or strangle the plants we are cultivating.  We work hard to create something lovely: the garden becomes the artist’s template for producing what is beautiful.  We put in the work, and in exchange, the garden gives us back not only beauty, but serenity, space, fresh air, amazing fragrances, and a grounding that I think only comes through getting our hands dirty in the soil of this planet.  

     I found myself translating this into thoughts about our relationships to God.  I think many people also “use” God in the same way that we use the planet.  We think if we worship, pray, follow the rules, and have right beliefs that God will give us what we want, that God will be in charge and controlling of everything so that we will have “blessed” lives.  It’s an exchange of sorts, but not one based on relationship: rather it is an exchange based on getting what we want.  This is often mirrored in the conversations I have had with people who believe that God is in control and in charge of everything.  “Everything happens for a reason” they say, believing God to really be a grand puppeteer who masterminds the smallest movements of living.  I’m sure that is a reassuring belief: that nothing happens that is not in God’s plans, so if we just do good, do right, God will reward us (though, even that is difficult for me to understand: if God is in charge of everything, aren’t our very thoughts controlled by God?  Then it is God who decides if we do good or not, right?).  

     My own beliefs are that God has given all creation free will.  That means I choose my thoughts and feelings, just as you choose yours.  God cannot control me or others, nor does God want to because God wants genuine relationship with us.  But in my conversations with those who believe in the “everything happens for a reason,” I have often been asked, then, what the point is in having a relationship with God.  If our prayers do not influence God to control what is happening, including other people and therefore control the outcomes, why pray?  If our worship does not influence God to be good to us, why worship?  

    That really goes back to the utilitarian approach to faith, life, the world, though, doesn’t it?  For me, we have relationship with God because the relationship, in itself, is worthwhile.  God is goodness, God is love, God is beauty.  Isn’t it always worth our time to be in relationship with goodness, love and beauty?  That relationship itself is a gift: enriching our lives and changing us for the better, just as any relationship with another who is good, loving and beautiful is enriching and changes us for the better.  Maybe that’s utilitarian, too; wanting relationships because they change us, enrich us, bless us.  But we recognize in these relationships that there is a give and take of both, not because we are trying to control or demand or even ask for certain things but because we genuinely value our time with the other, or in this case, with God.  If you don’t value that time with God, that is your choice.  And I believe it to be a choice God honors and does not punish.  I don’t believe God wants us to choose relationship with God out of fear of divine punishment or wrath, but out of love and a genuine yearning for connection.

    This causes me to wonder, once again, if “worship” is really what God values at all.  Because worshiping another keeps the worshipped being at a distance, does it not?  It’s not the same as talking, walking and listening to another.  It’s not a real exchange, it’s not a valuing of time together listening, learning and being together.  By the way, I don’t think this negates the value of church.  I just think that we need to imagine church differently.  It can be a place that encourages us to deepen in our relationships with God.

    Those are my thoughts this early morning in London as we prepare to leave on a tour of the greater England and Wales.  Blessings be with you this day, or rather deepening relationships be with you this day!

Kew Garden:

Hyde Park:

Week Four

     As per the detailed outline I put into the sabbatical grant application, I took Eldest and Youngest on a longer garden tour of CA this last week, most of it in Southern California.

    We visited Santa Barbara Botanical Garden, Descanso Gardens in LA, Huntington gardens, library and art museums, California Botanical Gardens, Fullerton Arboretum, San Diego Botanical Gardens, Balboa Park with all of its gardens, the San Diego Zoo (which in itself is also a botanical garden), and finally drove to Monterey from San Diego and went to the aquarium.  I loved all of them, each in its own way.  Huntington was amazing and expansive, I valued the native CA plants in the botanical gardens, the Fullerton arboretum with its beautiful trees was a place of true serenity and peace, and the zoo was such an incredible place that we ended up spending 9 hours there!  Still, I think Descanso was all of our favorite.  Ironically, it was the only garden we hadn't planned ahead of time to visit.  It came up as I was scrolling through local gardens when we were in LA and decided to try it out.  It was amazing.  It started off with a gift as well.  Eldest was wearing their Mount Holyoke sweatshirt, and the woman who was selling tickets for entry saw it.  She said she, too, was a Mount Holyoke alum, and she gave us free entry just because that's the kind of community the alum of Mount Holyoke share.  

    Many gifts came from this time including a lot of laughter, silliness and singing with the two of my adult children, unexpected kindnesses from strangers, and opportunities for good conversation and food as well.  We were listening to a book on tape as we drove about octopuses (we learned "octopi" is not the correct plural) that was moving as well as educational. Of course the best part of the trip was the time with my kids.  And the secondary gift was the incredible beauty of all the gardens. I ended up walking Balboa park gardens and Fullerton arboretum by myself: A and J were just too worn out.  But there were gifts in that as well.  I love trees, especially redwood trees and to have some quiet time by myself provided unexpected quiet alone time.  I connected with some birds and other animals as well who seemed as interested in me as I was in them. I have more to say, but frankly, I'm a bit worn out.  I hope to have more opportunity to write over the next couple days, though I will also be packing for 6 weeks in Europe.  

    Unfortunately, I'm still having trouble with my photos, and ended up spending over 8 hours trying to get my photos from my phone to my computer.  Since the memory space in my phone demands I move the photos off the phone so I have room to take more, it was a discouraging experience.  The videos I took at the zoo, in particular, appear to be completely lost: as long as I keep them on my phone, I can see them, but I can't move them with any success. Still, that's definitely a problem of privilege.  David and I leave Saturday for Europe and I'm considering that maybe the whole photo problem is an invitation to put down the phone and actually just BE on the trip.  I can let David be the photographer, and then Middle when I walk part of the Camino with him.  I will try, none the less, to include a few here.  Blessings on your week!

    

Days 17-18

     We did a short trip up to Mendocino for a couple days.  That was wonderful!  All of us who are home (so not Middle, but the other four of us) went up to see the Botanical gardens and to just BE in Mendocino.  We'd been there before, though none of us had remembered having done so until we saw the gardens.  Just incredible.  The front looks like a small garden store.  Nothing to give away the reality of the huge gardens that go all the way to the ocean which are hiding behind it.  Totally worth the 3 1/2 hour drive each way!  We then spent most of the next day just walking around Mendocino, walking along the beach, visiting the cute little shops, eating good food and just being family together.  Eldest loved it so much, they picked up a job application for the local book store.  We will see... but if they get the job, what an incredible excuse to visit more regularly!

    Pics below:  

    Today, the 20th of May, eldest turns 24... where has the time gone?  I'm so glad we have this time together before they permanently spread their wings and fly!

Days 14 & 15 - And the question: Human Being Vs. Human Doing

Tuesday we went to Filoli and the Pulgas Water Temple.  Pics:

Wednesday we visited the Sonoma Botanical Gardens.  More pics:

    In the last few days, though, the inevitable has finally descended for me: after two weeks of my three month sabbatical, I am deeply struggling with the whole idea of sabbatical. The guilt I feel at not working during this time has become overwhelming.  I hear in my head the words, "We are human beings, not human doings," but I find myself wondering if this is not a western ideal that I honestly don't subscribe to. 

    What is our point of being?  From a faith perspective I have usually argued that the point is love. It's all love.  That takes many forms: love of our neighbors means doing what we can to ensure that they have lives worth living, lives full of the same things that bring us joy.  Love of God is the same: serving the beauty of the creation that God has made by taking care of it, not exploiting it for our own uses, but being good stewards of everything we have been lent during our lives here to use for the good of all.  Love of self?  That's harder.  And what I mean by that is that we justify a lot of "self-care" that I think is exploitive of the larger world.  We say "you deserve it" and "aren't we meant to enjoy the beautiful life God has given us?"  The first of those statements is just plain problematic. The second can be twisted into justifying all kinds of things. There is value in learning to enjoy simply living in each day, without the extravagance that we seem to believe we are owed.  And we know that our cars and the airplanes we fly are doing great damage to the earth.  But we still use them to drive and to fly to other places so we can enjoy seeing and experiencing those places.  Are they better than the places at home?  I think they are just different. We value seeing and experiencing new things and I do think that other places, people and cultures can give us insight and a deeper understanding of our own.  But I've often wondered if the surface dives we do when we go other places aren't a way of skimming the top.  The deep dive into understanding requires a lot more than just a tour or visit of a place, and more than just meeting people and cultures that are "other."  It truly requires spending time and getting to know those others.  Frankly, we could do that here. We are surrounded by people of different socio-economic differences and different cultures and ethnicities.  Taking the time to get to know, for example, our unhoused neighbors, might bring us into deeper understanding and appreciation of the world we have than we know.  But that may also feel scarier as we face the fragility of our own situations.  

    So back to the question of being vs doing, or really, the question is about working vs doing things that are simply self-satisfying.  Is there room for both?  Is there room to take time to walk gardens, to see new places, to write, to pray, away from working, away from serving others?  Jesus took time away to pray.  He took 40 days or "a long time" in the wilderness.  And I guess that's what a sabbatical really is: taking that time away to refocus, to remember that we have value just because we ARE, aside from what we do.  

    But I continue to struggle with it.  As I run around visiting beautiful gardens, and soon will leave on longer trips away, I struggle with what worth my life has during those times when it is solely focused on the service of myself and my family, even if it is only for a three month period.  That is the deep challenge of this time for me.  While the other day I wrote about the challenge of doing too much each day, I am aware that for me the "busy busy" of rushing around is a way to avoid the deeper issues. It is a physical running away from the deeper questions of purpose and meaning. Today is a slower day before the pace picks back up again tomorrow.  And in that space, the loudness of the deep concern about worth rears its head.  Today I am sitting in the questions. I have no answers and will need to be okay with that today.