The Best Laid Plans…

     Yesterday we arrived in Porto, found Middle, got to our hotel.  All good.  Today the plan was to experience Porto.  I had tickets at Livraria Lello, suppposedly the most beautiful bookstore in the world, and we were hoping to bop down to the river for a river cruise.  Today is David’s last day in Europe… he flies home with Middle’s belongings, so we also planned to organize and figure out how to have Middle keep what he needs and give David what he doesn’t.  We had it all worked out with plans to eat at specific places and to try specific foods, even.

    However, the day before yesterday I started to have an intermittent pain in my jaw and mouth.  I kept just hoping it would go away.  But this morning when we went down for the breakfast, drinking warm tea was almost unbearable. In addition, after yesterday evening's attempts to slim down what we needed David to take home (I got rid of a number of articles of clothing including my jacket, David threw out a number of articles of clothing as well, including some jeans, and Middle threw out more of the belongings he’d already pared down substantially in Norway. I had told him when he insisted on taking his skis to Norway that he would never be able to return with them but some lessons are hard learned: so skis, bag, poles, as well as many items of clothing and other assorted objects now belong to Norway, despite my warnings), we STILL could not fit everything that really needed to come home into two checked bags and a carry-on.  So, today’s plans were tossed.  

    Middle had the job of finding a new backpack for his continued travels through Europe with the hope of giving his old one to David to replace the smaller one we had brought as his "personal item."  My job was to find a dentist who was willing to see me TODAY since we are supposed to start the Camino tomorrow morning.  With the hotel’s help, I was able to find a woman who said she would go into her office to see me even though today her office was closed.  After fighting with our map app, we finally found the place.  She said I have an infection in one tooth that has spread to my jaw, she prescribed both antibiotics and pain killers which I then had filled at the local pharmacy, and encouraged me to see my own dentist ASAP to get this dealt with properly.

      Middle, in the meantime, went on a hunt for a larger backpack for himself.  He wasn’t finding what he really needed, so I joined him and we spent the afternoon walking to the different sports shops in Porto.  We were still unable to find what he needed.  It is now 5PM.  Day shot.  Not very successful on the one hand.  We will spend more time this evening paring down even more so David can leave at 4am tomorrow morning for home.  Hopefully they will LET him check two bags… if not, we will be in real trouble.  

    But again, we have choices about how to view this day.  While we did not do the touristy things in Porto, Middle and I certainly saw a great deal of it as we searched for camping or sporting goods stores.  We got in some good walking which will be good prep for the next couple weeks.  We saw some lovely gardens.  In addition, I met with the kindness of strangers.  The dentist that saw me hardly spoke any English and it’s been so long since I spent that summer in Brazil that my Portuguese is pretty much forgotten.  Still, she came out on her day off to help a stranger and would only take a hug as payment!  Kindness indeed.  It was also a very good thing that today when the pain became unbearable I had the space and help of the hotel staff to find someone to see me.  I won’t have that space over the next couple weeks.  I am glad it happened here.

    So yes, the plans went awry.  Sometimes that’s life.  And many times it’s okay that things don’t go as planned.  We just have to look for the good.

Finishing Part Four

 To finish our UK tour: Tuesday we went to Lulworth Cove along the Jurassic Coast, which is a Unesco World Heritage site because of its unique geological features.  For me, that meant more hiking and incredible views as well as an opportunity to put my feet in the ocean waters.  

    We then went on to Weymouth where we spent most of the afternoon.  David and I (and sometimes just me) walked everywhere we knew gardens to be. 

    Still, perhaps the highlight of this time was the place we stayed: Summerlodge in Evershot.  Evershot is a village that boasts a population of around 200 people.  Yes, you read that right: TINY.  But the lodge there was INCREDIBLE!  Everyone had very different lodgings, and David and I stayed in a little cottage that we had to ourselves. The grounds were spectacular.  And the service was beyond anything!  The dinner service was honestly like a dance: with enough wait people for each person to be served their meal at exactly the same time.  The food was also beyond anything I’ve ever had.  This is the place to go people!

    Wednesday then we into Wiltshire and visited the Salisbury Cathedral, though we were not there at the right time and so could not go inside. 

    Then Stonehenge, which David and I were able to see because we move quickly.  Not all of our group was so lucky, however.  Apparently as David and I were heading back to the visitor’s center, some protestors crossed the barrier, and spray painted the monument!!  Stone henge was immediately shut down and everyone kicked out except the offenders who were being dealt with by the police when we left.

    Then we went to Windsor Castle.  However, it was unexpectedly closed because… well, let’s just say it wasn’t a surprise, though it was a disappointment. Still, David and I managed to find the lovely Alexandra Garden while the rest of our group shopped.  We even went on a Ferris wheel ride that gave us a great view of Windsor.

    And we ended back in London for the night. 

    I have so many reflections from this time, but I think the one that is most compelling for me has to do with entitlement, opulence, luxury, and over-indulgence.  I could not, throughout this tour, get past the feeling that the cost of this trip could have supported a family for a year in some parts of the world (NOT the Bay Area) and for a lifetime in other places.  I could not stop thinking that our sense that we somehow “deserve” to be served as we were at the lovely Summerlodge is a justification for selfishness that feels shameful.  Humanity is a cruel species, not only in our violence towards one another but also in our justifications of some having incredible wealth while others lack basic needs of water, food and shelter.  The divide between the “haves” and “have nots” grows, and those on the “have” side seem perfectly comfortable with that divide.  I’ve said it before and I will say it again: we have forgotten that we are family.  We have forgotten that we belong to one another.  We have forgotten what we should be about in this lifetime which is not just caring for ourselves and those like us, but caring for all.  That includes all creation for me, not just humans, but humanity is a start and we don’t seem to even do that. 

    There were several situations on the trip that really brought this thinking home for me.  One of the women on the tour approached us on the first day saying that she had started a “go fund me” page if we wanted to contribute.  I asked her what it was for and she told us it was for her to continue to be able to travel like this.  I didn’t respond, but thought that the “go fund me” causes that attract my attention and my dollars have a lot more to do with housing, education,  job opportunities, the building of wells and water filters rather than funding a person who was clearly very wealthy to continue to spend her time separating herself even more from others by living in this opulence continually. 

     The second was the hearing of the labels others on the tour assigned to many whom we saw: “Oh, there’s another wino” said the woman pointing to a homeless teen when I rarely saw her without a drink in her own hand.  “Look out for the undesirables” said the incredibly wealthy man who admitted to cheating in his business practices in ways that hurt his workers, the poorest and hardest working of all, to save himself money.  Our labels do three things: they allow us to dismiss people, to fail to see or understand them. They allow us to believe that we will never be in the shoes of some who have fallen through the cracks because we are not “like” them.  Finally, they keep us from self-reflection on our failures to do right by other people.  

    Perhaps a third is the complaints and judgements of some of the other tour members over tiny things.  When I said goodbye to our tour guide, she said to me, “Thank you for being a normal person, for laughing at my jokes and just being easy going about everything that wasn’t perfect.”  Huh.  I’ve never been accused of being a “normal person” before… ha ha!

    Yet, I am not immune to this entitlement thinking.  I found myself anxious about “missing” anything.  I found myself overeating because I didn’t want to waste food. I felt that “I had paid for it, so it was mine.”  When we found that we could not stop in the Cotswolds, I was upset, feeling cheated.  When we couldn’t get IN to Salisbury Cathedral I found tears unexpectedly coursing down my face. But again, this is entitlement thinking.  I know I don’t work harder than the many wait staff who are paid a pittance but are on their feet all day.  I know I don’t work harder than the maids and domestic servants who scrub and clean and cook all day but are also paid minimally. Why would I be more deserving of seeing these grand things?  And how do we decide who has value and who doesn’t?  Is it that those who work harder have more value?  It certainly is not that those with more money are more value able.  Maybe, as I’ve said before, we are valuable just because we ARE, we are all God’s children and therefore all have worth.  Also, it isn’t my money that has paid for this trip.  At a practical level, it was paid for by the grant I was given.  But at an even higher level all of it belongs to God.  

    This entitlement thinking does not just harm those who don’t have the same access to resources that some do, it also hurts us.  I was the one who suffered by feeling it “wasn’t fair” when I couldn’t see what I wanted to see.  I am the one hurt by the overeating that leads to feeling sick and stuffed when I feel I am owed that food because I paid for it.  

    Today we fly to Porto where Middle will meet us.  For those who are unaware, Middle has been studying abroad, this his third year in college, in Bergen, Norway.  He has just finished his year there and will fly to Porto with his belongings.  At that point, David will collect his belongings and fly home.  Middle and I will begin the fifth part of my sabbatical by walking two weeks of  the Camino, ending in Santiago.  I cannot wait for this time with my son!  Because we are shlepping our needed belongings during our Camino walk, I am minimizing weight and handing over my iPad to David to bring home.  That means writing will be more difficult during this time (needing to be done on my phone).  I will try to do my best.  Thank you for continuing to journey with me!

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.

Good places, Bad places?

     When Youngest and I were visiting colleges, we took some time in Oregon to look at one in particular.  I talked about it in another post at the time and don’t need to repeat what I wrote there: it wasn’t the right school for Youngest, which is fine: that’s why you do these tours, to find out what you like and don’t like, what fits and doesn’t fit.  What I do want to say is that it was also a mother-daughter vacation for us so we also drove up to and through Portland.  We left that city feeling that the city had rejected us at every turn.  We went to the zoo, only to discover you had to have tickets ahead of time and there were none available for that day.  We went to the international rose garden, and all the roses had been cut back to the ground that very week: there wasn’t a single rose to be seen.  We went to the Japanese Garden and it was closed that day for work. We went to Powell’s City of Books and were unable to find parking (a rarity for me) anywhere within a half mile of the store. We tried to go to the Portland Art Museum, but it’s closed Monday-Wednesday and so we could not go.  Finally, we just drove to our hotel.  But we were stuck in traffic that meant it took over an hour to drive the 6 miles to the hotel.  When we arrived, we found it was a dump of a hotel: not a place we even felt SAFE, let alone a place to get clean or to sleep soundly. When we left, we shook the dirt off our shoes and accepted that Portland did not want us and we were okay with that.

    David and I feel the same way about Cardiff where we stayed for the last 2 days.  We are with a tour that had difficulty even arriving at the hotel because apparently the first night we were there, so was P!NK, and so the city center where our hotel was located was packed with people all having come to party and see P!NK.  I don’t like dealing with that kind of huge crowds and David needed to work so we stayed in our hotel room that evening rather than braving dinner in town.  Our room looks over the train tracks and is almost on top of them.

  Additionally, while this was supposed to be a very nice hotel, our bathroom was dirty, there was a piece broken out of the bath, the fan doesn’t work, and the shower is so tight, as well as curved, that it’s hard to stand in it. But more than any of this, yesterday morning I woke up with three giant, very itchy and angry BITES on my face from something in the room. Additionally, we’ve been trying to wash our clothes by hand in our room, and that, too, has been a disaster because they aren’t drying fast enough in this humid room with no working fan, meaning smell sets in: ugh!

    Much of yesterday we had unscheduled time, so since I am here to see gardens, we googled the “best gardens in Cardiff” and set out.  The number one garden listed turned out to be a sports arena.  I have no idea why that came up as one of the best gardens since there was not one garden plant to be seen.  Another was torn up completely, fenced in, with piles of concrete and tractors.  

    A third was a small playground.  Giving up on the gardens, we then went looking for traditional food from Wales for lunch.  We’d been told by our tour guide to look in particular for Cornish pasties and Welsh cake, but we couldn’t find either.

    In the afternoon we went to St Fagan’s National Museum of History.  For my Cleveland friends, it is very similar to Hale Farm and Village.  For others, I’d say there are similarities to Williamsburg in that it is an old historic village.  It was awesome, really.  But our tour guide gave us only 80 minutes to go through the entire area which is over 100 acres of historic sites and buildings. I felt like David and I were zooming through to try to see as much of it as we could, and to my great surprise and disappointment, at the end I found an incredibly beautiful castle and garden area that we did not really have time to see.  I certainly didn’t have the time to truly enjoy it as I would have liked.

    Still, the day was not a complete loss.  Though we only saw the St. Fagan’s National Museum in a huge rush, what we did see was amazing.  In the morning we also visited Cardiff Castle, which was very interesting.  And in the evening we had a very nice dinner with our group that included being entertained by Welsh singers and a harpist.  That was truly lovely.  

    Returning to our hotel then, I was completely unable to sleep since the room was hot, the fan didn’t work, and there was no light sheet I could use but only a heavy comforter that meant I was either too hot, or had no covering. Despite what was positive and enjoyable, then, I felt the same sense of being rejected by a city that I felt when we were in Portland.  I also feel the same sense of “that’s fine” about it.  As I said in an earlier post, I’m not a city girl and this was definitely a city!  

    As I reflected on this, two thoughts came to mind.  First, it is easy to globalize one’s experience.  Obviously the time in Cardiff was really mixed: some wonderful things (the castle, the museum, the dinner), some not so wonderful.  But it would be easy for me to globalize and say it was not a good time.  Similarly it is easy to globalize a good experience, when the reality is that everything is mixed.  We absolutely loved Bath, for example.  But that doesn’t mean the time there was perfect.  One of the less ideal experiences we had in Bath was that our tour guide took us to a “very special English tea experience” where we were going to have “famous Sally Lum buns.”  Yes, we had tea: the same kind of tea I drink on a daily basis. And these famous buns, as far as we could tell, were large half hamburger buns. I love breads of all kinds, but I don’t even count hamburger buns as true bread: white flour, airy, with little taste, only good with something between them and even then, I often remove the top half of the bun because it’s just too much and is more utilitarian than edible.  It was an expensive yet disappointing “tea” experience.  But it was easy to ignore in light of all the wonderful things we saw and experienced in Bath.  I think, then, that it remains important to focus on gratitude and the things that are life giving and positive. I don’t need to waste energy on what was less than ideal.  But focusing on what is good brings me joy.  I choose.  And I don’t always choose for the best.

    My second thought was that there are places that resonate with a person and places that don’t.  I’m not actually sure that the reasons can always be accurately named.  Sometimes it is just the day that one is having, sometimes it is an experience, and sometimes it just comes down to something intangible: a sense, a smell, a sound that leads to one feeling good or not so good about a space.  First impressions, maybe.  For myself, I’ve learned that my first impressions are usually wrong, especially when those impressions are less than positive.  Just as it is unfair to people to judge them based on first impressions, perhaps my first impressions of places are equally to be viewed with suspicion.

    So, while I felt, like I did in Portland, like we were dismissed by the city, I’m not ready to pass judgement (and perhaps similarly for Portland).  And instead of labeling our time there as a bad time, perhaps I can just say, more truthfully, that our time there was mixed.  Even as I write this, I remember that while the gardens we were aiming to view were not the gardens we wanted to see, the walk to those “gardens” was actually quite lovely: we walked along the River Taff, in a lovely green belt of trees and grass, apart from the streets of the city.  Maybe my naming of the day as a “bad day” might have caused me to forget the beautiful part of the walk in favor of remembering the disappointment.  It was a different experience than we had expected, but not, on the whole a bad one.  

    So my lessons for today are to be cautious in my judgments and to focus on the good.  Not such bad lessons.

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: