A Gift of Love

Posted on December 24, 2018 by Pat

Photo by Juan on Pexels.com

Christmas is almost here and family and friends are getting together. It’s a celebration of love all over the world. The gift to the world was a baby over 2,000 years ago and Christian faiths will bow their heads in holy worship to Jesus Christ, who came into the world to show us love. Others will pause to celebrate in their own private ways and different faiths knowing it’s a time to give and be more kind. The spirit of that gift of love is still felt today and alive centuries after for all.

Can you imagine how different the world was back then, when a man with his expectant wife traveled at night on foot and by donkey through narrow, dusty mountainous paths to get to the more populous town, Bethlehem? Government requirements were demanding, even back then. It didn’t matter that his wife was pregnant and they had to go far from home. He needed to find a safe place for his wife to give birth. Times became treacherous for them after and they had to flee for the safety of their newborn son.

We couldn’t be more worlds apart today than then and, yet, there’s much that is still the same. Still, there are those traveling on foot with their families to be safe and get to a better place. We all want to have what’s best for the ones we love, be warm, work, eat and enjoy our friends, family and watch our children grow as we get older. Not much on that has changed throughout time just the forms they come in.

Through all the commercialism and rushing around to get everything done, there’s magic and a different spirit at Christmas. I can feel it in the air and see it on the faces of people in the stores and streets. Of course, there’s more sparkle in the eyes of children as they burst with glee in anticipation of Santa.

No matter what someone may be going through, I feel grace and compassion in the attempts to love and feel loved, when it’s hard. It’s there and especially strong at Christmas. People are helping people with love. It fills my heart with hope that it will always be there.

Merry Christmas to all of you and God Bless in the New Year!

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table

Acknowledgements: Photo by Juan on Pexels.com at https: more...

Thanksgiving

Posted on November 22, 2018 by Pat

Mountain autumn leaves — Autumn leaves in the Rocky Mountains

From my Rocky Mountain table to yours, I’m wishing all of you, my family and friends, a very blessed and loving Thanksgiving.

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table.

Mountain Road

Posted on November 7, 2018 by Pat

Photo by Craig Adderley on Pexels.com

I know I’ve been on this mountain road before at night but it’s different this time. Maybe, because I’m dreaming and sense there’s a reason. Funny (you think?), that in this dream it takes place where we’ve just left the voting polls and we’re on the road to get onto the main highway for home but it’s shut down. There’s been some type of roll over, and, in the mountains that could mean hours.

I remember some years ago, when a logging truck lost it’s load, it took a good part of the day before it opened up again. There was another time when some type of tanker truck was in an accident and the highway was shut down for cleanup. It took hours to get home from work when traffic was rerouted weaving for miles through forest access roads to get around it.

What do we do now? We thought maybe we would see how far we’d get by walking; at least, it was doing something rather than just sitting in the car. There was one of two routes we could choose. One was go back to the car and back to the voting polls where we came from or walk out to the highway.

We chose to walk out to the highway – maybe not such a good choice, but everything was gridlocked and no traffic was moving. So, we began walking, for a couple of miles it seemed, up Crow Hill. After walking awhile past people sitting in their cars, it seemed senseless that we left our car like that. It was time to rethink this decision.

I wanted to continue on and hubby wanted to go back to the car and turn around to get back home from there. So, we decided to do both. We’d split up and I would go on and he’d go back and somehow we’d meet in the middle or at home. This is where a message began to form infused more with feelings.

This was not a random dream that just happened to come to me on election night. I sensed more in my heart for my neighbors, family and friends in our neighborhoods and across our country where we were at a crossroads with the choices we’re making. There’s not just a high road or low road – just choices. We make them all the time and find ourselves in the strangest places wondering how we got there.

Even now, as I sit here to write this the next day, rather than 4:30 am, I still feel the gentle tenderness of the message: that is, look at where I am and pay attention to how I got there. It’s not necessarily a bad thing – just navigation and choice. Most of the time, we get sidetracked, take a shortcut or we lose things along the way and have to go back and get them before we can begin again.

If we don’t notice, we can be way off course and it may take longer and be more difficult to get back. But, in the end somehow we’ll always find our home, that field beyond – together. It’s our choice and we can work together to make it easier.

Out Beyond Ideas

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense ~~ Rumi

(Excerpt from the translations of Coleman Barks © by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes)

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table

Being Human

Posted on June 28, 2018 by Pat

Children-daffodils-flowers Courtesy MSN Clipart

This, being human, has it’s interesting twists and turns. Some days I’m tuned in while others I’m at a total loss and confused. But, this poem puts it back in perspective for me and is tender in helping me realize what’s important in life and why I’m here.

The Guest House ~~ by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

(A teaching story translated by Coleman Barks © by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes)

~~~~~~~~

I can relate and understand that ups and downs are lessons, if I listen. Some just don’t make sense but that’s the point. It’s not what I understand with my head but with my heart. As I travel further on this journey, with this insight, I see the magic.

Sometimes, these twists and turns teach us to face our biggest fears. It reminds me of a story, I once read I never forgot, in “Saint Francis” by Nikos Kazantzakis, where he had a dreamlike vision. The one thing Francis was most terrified of was the very thing he was instructed to do . . . kiss a leper on the mouth.

I can pretty much guess this isn’t something we would be asked to do today but the fear Saint Francis experienced with being challenged to follow through on this request was as real as any we could possibly face now. You could sense his entire body was tormented and trembling at the very thought of it.

To paraphrase, this story goes on like this: Almost paralyzed in fear, the next day Francis managed to get up and walk down the road, with Brother Leo, attentive for the sound of bells off in the distance. This was the sound of a leper coming. They wore bells to let others know they were near

Francis soon heard it and as he got closer he could see the leper. He came close and gazed in horror as half of his nose had been eaten away. His hands had no fingers and were just stumps and his wounded lips were oozing.

Ignoring his own terror, Francis then embraced him, throwing himself upon the leprous man and kissed him upon the lips choosing instead to follow God’s request. He, then, picked him up, wrapped him in his robe and began carrying him toward the city. As he got closer, Francis stopped and bent down to uncover the robe carrying the leper but as he pulled it away the robe was empty.

Unable to speak, Francis suddenly realized, with tears flowing from his eyes and falling to the ground to kiss the earth, that it wasn’t a leper at all. It was Christ Himself who had come in the form of a leper to test his faith.

You may ask if we’re really tested like this . . . maybe or not. But, magic happens, like Saint Francis experienced, when we have the same realizations. Our eyes are opened to the same possibilities, when we accept challenges we face each day and ignore our greatest fears. Are the beliefs we have real or are they just illusions?

How strong is the belief that we’ll risk our very lives to hold on to it. That’s the greatest challenge some are facing today in very real ways and it’s valid. It’s like the story of the man holding on to a rope unwilling to let go.

And a little like what I saw yesterday at a breakfast gathering when the conversation turned to the latest controversial topic of immigration and children being separated from their families.

The emotions were real, strong and valid. There was anger, yet tears in the eyes of the one who spoke. Even though our positions are different, I understood. I had been there and felt the dilemma on the inside where beliefs are so strong and justified but being challenged with different feelings from the heart. It’s hard to know what is true and how to let go.

It’s something we each struggle with and have to learn to identify. When we get what we think is guidance, who’s talking and can I trust it? Individually, it takes time to figure that out. But with it comes magic. It’s possible to work through and so worth it on the other side.

Thank you for reading and hope you’ll share some thoughts and experiences you’ve had too.

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table.

Acknowledgements: The Guest House - by Rumi and transla more...

I Wanted to Say Goodbye

Posted on June 6, 2018 by Pat

I was convinced I had said everything I created this blog to say but something keeps me holding on to it. I wanted to say goodbye and had imagined so many ways to compose my last post before shutting it down — even began copying and saving my posts before preparing to delete them. But, for some reason I’m still here.

Maybe, it’s a result of listening to an interview today that Adam Davis, executive director of Oregon Humanities, had with Barry Lopez that made me reconsider. Lopez spoke of being responsible, as part of a community, to share our stories with those younger and with social media. He said it was important not to give up and was something I didn’t want to do.

(I hope you watch . . . was very powerful and moving to me.)

Life has been good for hubby and I, up here in our mountains, putzing around and enjoying our golden years together. As each season comes and fades and the days unfold, I come to notice how precious life is and I’m grateful to be a part of it.

But, lately life has also become complex and fast paced. It’s hardly manageable to keep up, or frankly, I’ve wondered if it’s worth it to stay plugged into the internet. Just when I get caught up another update shows up with some asking for a little more money. So, who really wants to hear these stories, anyway, and my opinions or has the time?

But, I guess with this interview, along with a young lady I met at the Dept. of Motor Vehicles the other day, where she thought growing up in the ’60’s era would have been interesting, I think I’ll hang around a little longer.

Maybe, I still have more to say that would pique your interest and start a conversation. I hope so. I have enjoyed meeting those of you over here on the internet over the years and value your thoughts and our connection.

So, here we go. I’m still here.

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table

Acknowledgements: Oregon Humanities exec director Adam more...