Best Wishes to Yong

Tomorrow is the last day to buy coffee from Yong at Fritz Avani Coffee.
The building at 811 SW 6th Avenue is being remodeled and when the building is all new and shiny there will no longer be a space for the coffee shop.
 Every other week I go downtown to buy bus tickets for people who are in need of them. I have a pattern. I rode the bus until the new Orange Line opened, and now I ride the Max down to Pioneer Square. I buy my tickets from the lady at the far end of the counter who always keeps a small fan by her station. And then I go buy coffee from Yong before getting on the bus to work.
If you go often enough on a regular pattern, then people notice and begin to expect you or recognize when your routine has changed. For a while I always bought a soy chai latte and then I switched to a soy latte. Yong noticed. She was happy I was buying coffee because as she told me, her coffee was good. On one visit she asked my name and from that moment on she greeted me by name. It made me feel good to be recognized and she liked knowing almost before I did what I would order that day. Over time she asked other questions so she knew where I worked and a little about what I did and she shared a bit of herself with me as well.
When you are buying coffee in the morning you can't talk too long or you irritate the people who might be waiting or miss the bus that you need to catch. It takes a long time to learn a little bit when you see someone twice a month and no more, and for only the time it takes to make a coffee.
A couple of months ago Yong told me that the building was being remodeled and that space for her coffee shop would no longer be available in the new design. Her lease would end on the last day of October. She was sad. I was sad. She wasn't sure what she would do. She liked her coffee shop. I liked her coffee shop.
Steadily weeks went by and the time for the end came closer. I felt I had to add in an extra trip downtown, to see her an extra time before she was gone. I bought some bus tickets for my husband a little earlier than I needed to and the monthly pass for myself as well. When I went to buy the tickets the lady at the end with the fan was busy which happens from time to time. I bought my tickets from the man at the other end. I am always asked for ID as if my name suddenly won't match my debit card. I always get it out. I have always felt like an anonymous person.
Then I went for coffee. Yong was not at her coffee shop. I waited and waited determined that I would see her this extra time before the last one. After a bit she arrived along with a whole crowd of people who were also entering the building.
"We had a fire drill" she said and then asked me if  had been waiting long. Only a few minutes I said but she insisted the coffee would be free for the wait. I thanked her profusely after saying there was no need for free coffee. Her generosity could not be deterred. Then I rushed to the bus since I was a little later than usual. 
And then the last week arrived. I went downtown on Wednesday. Knowing it would be the last time I would make it to see her before she closed. It was my regular week for buying packets of tickets. I went to the lady at the end and she smiled and said, "You were here last week too?" I explained that I had come for tickets for my husband then I added that I wanted to see the lady at the coffee place around the corner before it closed. The lady engaged in conversation lamenting the demise of so many small businesses and asked if I knew what the coffee lady was going to do and I did so we chatted briefly and she hardly looked at my ID at all and then I knew. Checking ID was really a required part of her job, no exceptions just in case someone really was using someone else's card -- but she knew me too just like Yong at the coffee place.
I bought my last coffee at Fritz Avani. I went into the building instead of standing outside at the little window. It just seemed fitting somehow. I had a little card for her to thank her for the bright spot she had provided in my weeks. I handed her my punch card and asked her to write down her name since I am only guessing at the spelling. She asked if I had a business card and told me she would email me. I did have a card. She smiled and then came around the counter to give me a hug.
There are many service jobs in our city. People who take money, take a required look at ID, punch our "get one free" cards, notice our routines and maybe ask how we are doing. Some people go about their work determined to just get through the day hardly looking at the people they serve. Others offer the gift of kindness, a smile, or recognition. Their tasks may seem insignificant on a grand scale but are very important in other ways. The manner with which they serve can make or break our days.
I try hard to remember the names of those whose jobs are an important part of my day. I try to be fully present, (not on the phone or lost in thought) and remember to offer a smile, wait courteously, over look small errors, and be polite to those who serve. 
I will miss Yong. I will her smile of recognition and the way she made me feel important. I am sure there are others who feel the same.  
And I am glad the lady with the fan knows who I am. She is part of my life too.
We are all connected. 

My Mother dropped by last night.

I am not much of a dreamer although at different moments in my life I have had some fairly profound dreams. I once took a spirituality class that addressed dreams. One point that I learned was that if I wanted to remember my dreams, I had to work at it. That usually involves putting paper and pencil close enough to reach immediately upon waking so that any dreams can be recorded right away before they are forgotten. I have used this practice so I know that it does work, but it takes effort and months, even years can go by when I am too tired to work at it.

That doesn't mean I never dream. I do have dreams and sometimes they wake me up and once in a while they are so profound I remember them without writing. But in my family it was always my mother or my sister who had the really impressive dreams, like dreams of conversations or visits with people who had died. Not me. In fact I have felt more than a few moments of envy for their ability to be in touch with the dreamworld.

But last night my mother dropped by.

I have been at peace with my mother's death. I don't have regrets that keep me awake at night and I long ago grieved the loss of her ability to communicate and to recognize people or remember visits, so her death was a peaceful end to a long period where she seemed to be living a half life. Nonetheless, she is gone and I have pondered her absence from this world.


I was in a room with another person and decided to go upstairs. Upstairs there were three rooms that opened from one into another through doors that were lined up. I sat on a couch in the first room facing the wall across the room and the door that led to the next room. There was a little sliding door - like an air vent but maybe six or seven inches high - that was above the main door. As I sat the little door slid open a few inches and a paper puppet popped through. It made me laugh and I wondered who had gone upstairs before me, who was working the little puppet. At that moment my mother walked around the corner and into the room. She looked as I remembered her from some years past, healthier with a normal weight as she used to have. I was delighted to see her even though I was completely aware that she had died. I also knew that she had been the one to open the little door and pop the puppet through, just as I immediately knew that she had done so to make me laugh so I wouldn't be afraid or startled by her presence. 


That's all really. I don't remember if she said anything. The important thing was that she was healthy, walking and was taking time to drop in on me. In the dream, after my mother was gone,  I told another person that I had seen her and I emphasized that she had really been there - that it wasn't a dream. There was another message but it is personal. I need to keep it as my own. But the visit was sweet and very comforting.


Keep your heart open when your loved ones pass from this world to the next. The doorways are less substantial than expected.  

I am pleased that my mother dropped by last night.  

Yes. Everything is connected.

I just finished reading most of T. Colin Campbell's book Whole: Rethinking the Science of Nutrition. (Dallas TX: BenBella Books, 2013) T. Colin Campbell, PhD. was the co author of The China Study - another important book to read.
I will try to get through the third section of the book with more than a cursory reading, but I get awfully unhappy when reading yet again about profits that can shut down prophets. Money (or better qualified, the love of money) really is the root of all evil. Even in the face of enormous evidence to the contrary, systems that thrive on money will continue to provide the same misleading or just plain wrong information to an unsuspecting populace -- if upsetting the system will decrease profits for those who benefit from maintaining the status quo. How sad! How frustrating!

Here we go. Animal products are bad for your health. Vitamin supplements cannot replace whole foods. Foods cannot be reduced to individual nutrients. Your body is a system that cannot be reduced to parts. What you eat has a far greater impact on your health than your genetic predisposition. Everything is connected. The interactions, and reactions of foods that you take in to your body with your intricately fashioned bodily systems is much more sophisticated and complex than today's health care advocates are able to accept. A pill will not cure all of anything. More pills are less likely to cure a disease. Until medical science puts a priority on prevention, people will keep getting sick, while doctors and hospitals get paid, medical insurers make decisions irregardless of patient needs, pharmaceutical companies get richer, and medical research continues to be funded by those who make the biggest profit on illness and disease. However did this system arise and why in the world do we keep it in place?

Every year there is a race or two for the cure of some disease or chronic ailment, heart disease, diabetes, cancer etc. I have for sometime refused to participate until some group wants to sponsor a run for the Prevention. Cures take place after a person is already sick. Prevention stops the development of disease. I once read that there is no money in prevention which is the reason most people interested in health care go into medical practice or related areas rather than public health. It makes sense when I think about it. If you discover a means for prevention, you can eradicate the disease. The End. If you find a cure you can keep on selling it to those who get sick and as long as people keep getting the disease you can cure it. If the disease is eradicated from the public the money stream is gone. Think about it. Some cancer medications cost thousands of dollars per pill and treatments that involve radiation and surgery are even more lucrative.

So I will stop ranting at this point. I just want to make a few last comments about the way people eat. The Standard American Diet (SAD) really is sad and it fosters a climate for illness rather than health for many millions of people. People believe they are doing the right things for their families and themselves when they follow the dietary guidelines given to them by their doctors or taught in school, but the sad truth is that the guidelines are faulty. Not only are we harming our collective bodies, we are damaging the earth, and harming untold millions of animals raised solely for the purpose of providing food. The earth, the animals, the climate and all the poor around the world would benefit if people would stop eating animals and animal products like dairy and eggs.

For breakfast today I had a nice bowl of Tasty Cereal (Bob's Red Mill/gluten free multi grain) with a dash of soy milk, raisins, walnuts, flax seed meal and applesauce. It was yummy and filling. A plant based diet is healthy and satisfying.

 
   

Thoughts on my mother's death

For my mother's funeral I chose a reading from the Wisdom of Sirach, also known as the Book of Ecclesiasticus. The verses are printed below (3:1-15)

My children, listen to your parents: do what we say and you will live— For God gives a father honor over his daughters and sons, and upholds a mother’s authority over her children. Respect your father, and you atone for sin; Revere your mother, and you accrue great wealth. Children are the reward for those who respect their parents, and their prayers will always be heard. Those who esteem their father will be long-lived; those who comfort their mother are obeying God. Those who fear God honor their parents, and give them the respect one would a sovereign. Honor your parents in word and deed, and their blessing will come upon you. For a parent’s blessing gives a family deep roots, but their curse rips up its foundation. Don’t seek glory at the expense of your parents. How can their loss of face glorify you? If your parents are honored, you receive the glory; if your parents are shamed, you receive the denigration. My children, care for your parents in their later years; don’t do anything to give them grief while they are alive. Make allowances for their feebleness in age; don’t despise them because you’re in the prime of life. For kindness to your parents will never be forgotten, and it will make reparation for your sins; In time of trouble, it will be remembered to your advantage, and your sins will melt away like frost in sunshine.

 

  For me, it is a reading that speaks to the last years of my mother’s life, years that were very difficult for her and for those who loved her.  It was painful to see Mom, a woman who had been so elegant, gradually unable to care for herself, until eventually she needed more care than the family could provide in her own home. A series of strokes gradually took away her ability to remember and to speak more than a word or two-- and Mom was a person who liked to talk, liked a good debate and enjoyed teaching -- so losing her ability to communicate was very frustrating. She loved to dance so the loss of mobility was heart wrenching, and when her arthritic fingers prevented her from sketching even the whimsical paper dolls she used to make for the children it was very sad. 
  Each time a care decision had to be made it was agonizing because Mom never wrote down any of her own wishes, instead leaving her adult children to figure things out. Like a puzzle we attempted to put all the pieces together even as Mom was gradually becoming someone different. We remain very grateful that Mom was charming and gracious even when she wasn’t sure who we were.

   Our goal was always to honor our mother’s life and dignity, to take into account the way she lived and the way she taught by example. And there were a number of examples. Mom took care of her own mother as long as she could, placing her mother in a care center only when the doctor insisted because the 24 hour care that was needed was beyond mom’s ability, and then Mom went regularly to the care center to visit her mother. 
   Later, when Mom was in her 70’s she took care of her aunt who was in her 90's. Mom would drive across town sometimes twice a day, trying to manage her aunt’s housekeeping, personal care and finances while seeing to her own household as well. It was a labor of love that Mom saw as her responsibility. It was a way of honoring her aunt, her father’s sister, and also for Mom, I think, a way to honor her father who had died quite young. By example, Mom taught her children even as we were beginning to detect signs of Mom’s own declining health.  
  We were fortunate that Mom was able to stay in her own home longer than might have been expected because our youngest brother was able to live with her. When it was clear that she needed more care than one person could give, we moved her to a memory care home, where she lived for another five years.
  They were not easy years as the people around her who became friends slipped away one after another, but she had round the clock care by kind and gentle people. And each of her children - in our own individual way - did what we could for our mother. We almost never crossed paths in the care center as we have such different lives and schedules, but because of that, she had family with her much more often than some of the other residents. Each of us connected with Mom in our own way, and each of us will miss some of the other residents we came to know through our visits with Mom.  
   Sometimes Mom would be pampered with a manicure, new hairdo and makeup while listening to great music, or she would be taken for walks through the neighborhood, listen to poetry and share a meal, or she would stay up late watching Dancing with the Stars, movies, or a rousing football game – all depending on who was there to see her. From out of state her other son made sure that bills were paid, property was cared for and that mom received lovely gifts or surprise visits whenever possible.
   And the grandchildren (and older great grandchildren), also honored their grandmother with cards, photographs and visits, and by comforting their own parents as we watched our mother age. All of this I think is what the writer of Sirach was addressing when he said, "Honor your parents in word and deed, and their blessing will come upon you." 

  I am at peace with my mother's death. I have no major regrets about what I could have done differently. She died in the bed that had been hers for a number of years. She was tended to by hospice workers that understood natural death and she did not have to endure a prolonged hospital death. 
  I am content that her children were able to care for her, that she was never left alone and that the example she gave has been passed to the next generation. 

  Thanks for letting me share this with you.

(My mom at about 16 years old with her parents - my maternal grandparents!)  

away with cars- A Shout out for Public Transit

  I am going to sound a little bit like an advertisement so let me make this disclaimer right up front: I do not work for TriMet, or Metro or any related company. I did however work on a citizens' advisory committee for the new Orange Line of the light rail. Now, with that out of the way I just want to write about how much the new Orange Line has added to the enjoyment of my days!
  I used to take the #33 bus to the downtown Milwaukie Transit Center where I would wait for the #70 bus which I would then take into work. Between waiting and riding the trip would take anywhere from 40 to 50 minutes -- more if the Union Pacific Train was blocking the route at 12th and Clinton. Now I walk to the Max Stop at Park Avenue, get on a comfortable light rail train and within less time than it used to take me to get from my house into downtown Milwaukie I find myself at the Clinton Street stop. Then I can catch a #70 bus a block or two away or more likely just walk on into work. The route takes about 23 minutes but I feel very energized by the time I walk into my office. And the best part is that even with the walk, I find I am getting to work in much less time with a great deal more comfort.
 I don't use the light rail just for getting to and from work. Since it is a very pleasant ride I like to hop on whenever possible. Last week I took a 30 minute jog from my house into downtown Milwaukie where I bought a soy latte at The Painted Lady Coffee Shop before catching the light rail back home. On another day I took two of my grandchildren on the light rail to the Johnson Creek Nature area where we read all the signs and tried to spot some fish in the creek before the four year old began to lose interest. Then we hopped on the light rail going back into Milwaukie and went to the Painted Lady for chocolate, a short game of chess, and then back on the light rail home. In the process I am teaching my 11 year old grandson how to use the Max; how to buy tickets, validate them and have them close at hand to show to transit inspectors if they happen to come by (which has happened several times!)
  There was also a day last week when I was feeling down after my mom's funeral and I just wanted to get out and move around. In the very old days I might have jumped in a car and taken a long soothing drive - but I have too much awareness of Climate Change and Carbon Emissions to take a long ride in any car these days. It was a good moment for my husband and I to get on the light rail train together and ride into downtown Portland and over the bridge before stepping off and getting on a home bound light rail train. The ride was quiet and soothing just as I had hoped.
  Yes, I have been taking mass transit for enough years by choice to know that there can be unpleasant moments caused by unhappy or disrespectful fellow riders, but these are generally few and far between. I find that more people on the light rail so far have been enjoying the ride - looking out the windows and chatting with others - as opposed to plugging into some device and ignoring everything and everyone. And sure, the novelty may wear off at some point, but for now, I intend to enjoy the fruit of many years of community labor and have a good time riding on the Orange Line.
  I hope you have pleasant public transit in your city!

                                      Looking up through the Park Street Station Art work..

fallen things

   The older I get the more I think I about connections between happenstance and unplanned events. For example, there are the over ripened tomatoes, unpicked as I tended to my mother's death, and fallen on the ground with the first heavy rainfall in months - it came on the day of the funeral. I picked the tomatoes up off the ground this morning, sorry that they were looking so grim but then I thought I should just cook them all right away. And so it was that I found a recipe for homemade tomato paste. I chopped up the tomatoes and put them into a large kettle to simmer. After they were really soft I put them through a sieve and poured them into pans that I placed in the oven.
  After a while they had cooked down so that there was barely anything left. I scraped up the paste that was all that remained from 7 pounds of tomatoes and put it in four 4 very small jars that I processed in a boiling water bath. I always feel happy when I look at jars of newly canned food cooling on the counter. The recipe said I might get as few as three jars if I used really juicy heirloom tomatoes or as much as 6 jars if the tomatoes were thick but the recipe also called for a full 10 pounds of tomatoes when I only had 7 so I was pleased to get four jars. (I guess I should tell you that I burned some of the sauce when I laid down to rest and fell sleep and forgot about them so really four jars was great!)
  When I think about all the tomatoes it took to make the tomato paste and I then consider all the tomato paste in little tin cans in the supermarket and the amount of tomatoes it takes to make all that tomato paste,  I am surprised that anyone ever thought to cook the tomatoes that way in the first place. Then again, what else would you do with all those bits and pieces of tomatoes not nice enough to put on the shelf or even to slice up at home? It is then that I think that someone somewhere just like me once picked up fallen tomatoes, chopped them and put them in the oven or by the fire and when they remembered, the tomatoes that were left in the pan were a dark brick color and sticky like paste, but oh so nice to add to thin soups or sauces to thicken them for a cool weather meal.
  I like growing my own vegetables. If the weather gets too cold for the rest of the tomatoes to ripen I have a nice recipe for green tomato relish and another that I am excited to try for green tomato pickles.
Everything has a use. The fallen tomatoes that smooshed into the ground will enrich the soil for next year. Even our own fallen bodies lying in the ground are useful in the cycle of life.   
 

Ask the Animals: Some thoughts on the Feast of St. Francis

We celebrated the Feast Day of  Saint Francis of Assisi on October 4th. Francis was a man uniquely in tune with Creation whose life had a tremendous influence on the people of his time, and has continued to impact those who have encountered his teachings through the ages. The teachings of Francis, the saint of ecology, are being revisited as the Christian Community at large takes steps to adjust, refocus and reclaim pieces that have been missing in our modern theological understandings.

Until now we have for the most part approached theological understanding entirely from a human perspective - and yet the same God who created the human species created all living things. The same God who gave human beings "every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of the earth, and every tree which has fruit yielding seed to be food", also gave "to every beast of the earth and to every bird of the sky and to everything that moves on the earth which has life every green plant for food." (Genesis 1)  In other words, God provided for all creatures, giving them food to eat, and habitat that suited them while pronouncing all that had been created as good.

Christian teaching from the Letter to the Romans (chapter 8) tells us that all of creation awaits freedom from corruption. Not just human beings, but all of Creation groans as if in childbirth awaiting new life. And Jesus speaking to his followers reminded them to have faith that God would take care of them just as God takes care of the birds of the air and the lilies of the field.(Matthew 5). Over and over scripture reminds us that humans are a part of Creation, that God cares for all of Creation, and that God wants freedom for all Creation. That is astounding considering how people of faith have dominated and greedily claimed anything they found as their own for their own use.

Theologian Elizabeth Johnson took the title of her newest book Ask the Beasts: Darwin and the God of Love (Bloomsbury Academic, 2014) from the Book of Job where Job in responding to his critics tells them to ask for wisdom from creation – from the animals and the growing things around them. 

Ask the beasts and they will teach you,

The birds of the air and they will tell you;

Or speak to the earth to instruct you,

and the fish of the sea to inform you.

Which of all these does not know

that the hand of God has done this?

In God’s hand is the soul of every living thing,

and the life breath of all mortal flesh. (Job 12:7-10)

 The sense that humans can learn from creation is ancient. It may have been tucked away in religious texts gathering dust, but it is there nonetheless and when we begin to look we see this Creation Wisdom everywhere.

Francis of Assisi was in touch with this wisdom. He spoke to the animals calling them brother and sister just as he referred to the sun and the moon as part of his family, the family of creation. In his time he was likely viewed as a crazy man by those who ascribed to the logic of human superiority in all things – but now we look to him and wonder how it is that he was able to live as he did in spite of the social and cultural pressures of his time.There is good evidence that he did not eat animals (he was a vegetarian at the least) and his desire to live simply is renowned.

At the very beginning of his current encyclical, Laudato Si,(paragraphs 1 and 2) Pope Francis writes about Francis of Assisi saying:

"Saint Francis of Assisi reminds us that our common home is like a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us. “Praise be to you, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, and who produces various fruit with colored flowers and herbs”

And he goes on to tell us that

"This sister now cries out to us because of the harm we have inflicted on her by our irresponsible use and abuse of the goods with which God has endowed her. We have come to see ourselves as her lords and masters, entitled to plunder her at will. The violence present in our hearts, wounded by sin, is also reflected in the symptoms of sickness evident in the soil, in the water, in the air and in all forms of life."

He also refers to Romans and to Genesis.

This is why the earth herself, burdened and laid waste, is among the most abandoned and maltreated of our poor; she “groans in travail” (Rom 8:22). We have forgotten that we ourselves are dust of the earth (cf. Gen 2:7); our very bodies are made up of her elements, we breathe her air and we receive life and refreshment from her waters."

Elizabeth Johnson writes that “over the centuries for a variety of reasons…theology narrowed its interests to focus on human beings almost exclusively. Our special identity, capacities, roles, sinfulness, and need for salvation became the all-consuming interest. The result was a powerful anthropocentric paradigm in theology that shaped every aspect of endeavor. (Kindle Locations 263-265).

And while theologians were following this human centered path, the “biblical theme of cosmic redemption flew by in silence…The natural world was simply there as something God created for human use. Theology lost touch with the universe. "(Kindle Locations 268-269).

Today theologians are helping people of faith to rediscover their connection to the Universe as a whole and most importantly, the connections to all creatures, all life that collectively calls the planet Earth "home."

A self-centered focus on human kind has not only endangered or led to the extinction of many species, it has begun to jeopardize the human community as well. We cannot say often enough that we are all connected. We cannot endanger the water, land or air and the creatures that depend on them without endangering ourselves as well. 

If we spend time with animals that are in our care, or take the time to wander out into places that are not solely inhabited by human kind, we can watch and listen and learn from the creatures that inhabit Earth with us.  There we discover that death and life go hand in hand; that creatures generally seek life over death. That they enjoy sunshine and sunsets, drinking fresh water, caring for their young, walking through pastures, full tummies and sleeping next to those they love.

They are less inclined to argue politics but are not above creating a pecking order when left to their own devices. They eat until they have their fill if it is available but rarely eat more than they need except in captivity. They don’t make messes where they live… except of course in captivity. They are aware when danger approaches. They will attempt to escape from areas of drought, famine, fire or flood and are not concerned with legal borders or immigration. They are wisely cautious of human beings in their natural environment. They have an innate acceptance of death as part of life and do not fear death when it comes. In their naturalness creatures glorify Creation by being themselves, creatures created to live on Planet Earth taking what they need, allowing for their young and for other members of their species while freely moving about in the ways that they were created to do.

Last week when April, our Plymouth chicken died, my husband was left with the task of burying her. If you ever tried to dig a hole with five active chickens nearby you will know how difficult that can be. Chickens naturally assume you are scratching the earth with them or for their benefit. So as my husband was digging the chickens were being themselves, getting in the way, squabbling with each other over bugs and such, but when my husband brought April's body to lay in the earth, the chickens became quiet, standing still until the task was done. It was sort of eerie because we have been led to believe that creatures, especially those as lowly as chickens are not very intelligent.  Not so when we pay attention.

Theologians like Johnson are calling for a spiritual conversion that will change the way we relate to the Earth. Allowing ourselves to feel our connection to Creation in such a way that we are moved to act as the interrelated beings that we are. We are not isolated from Creation. We can't live behind some protected barrier untouched by Creation. We are part of the mix and until we begin to "grow up" and take responsibility for nurturing the relationship we have with all other parts of Creation, we will continue to jeopardize our own species and others as well. 

Johnson, like Francis of Assisi and Pope Francis invites human beings to fall in love with creation, which includes all of humanity especially the poor and vulnerable who reflect the fragility of the earth. These prophets and others from various religious and secular perspectives know that if people choose to change their lifestyles out of love, rather than being forced by obligation or necessity, they stand a far better chance of succeeding. And if this happens, the people and all creatures who are part of the Earth community may have at least a chance at being saved together.