After many years of collecting evocative stones, somehow I managed to acquire an oriental princess, 3 hut stones, a pontificating wizard holding his book of spells, and no less than 4 dragons. The ones on stands are viewing stones. In two cases, I noticed “mythical” images in polished jasper slabs.
A small Blue Mountain jasper slab has a whole scene – a hut beneath some trees on the lower right and an oval (dragon egg?) by what appears to be a body of water.
Thom Lane created a painting inspired by the dragon energy he found in a Morrisonite slab. A closeup of the dragon image in the slab and a photo of Thom’s painting were used side by side in a shadow box that I created for an article I wrote on using shadow boxes to tell stories about stones.
The Arlington, MA Council on Aging (COA) offers many opportunities for social connection. During my internship there while working on a Masters in Mindfulness Studies at Lesley University, I realized many elders are naturals at mindful connection. With time more precious, perfection and things matter less. What does matter is time spent together. They understand that deep listening and honesty both support the kind of heartfelt aware connection that amplifies wellbeing.
As I learned, many of the 200(!) or so Arlington COA volunteers are elders themselves. When I asked what they were most grateful for, several of them told me it was the opportunity to support others. That kind of wise appreciation is both rare and badly needed. It should not take a natural disaster or realizing there are few years left for us to understand we have the tools to honor each other’s dignity in ways that are mutually supporting.
My experience offering mindful tea and dialogue workshops to elders confirmed my sense that they might be well positioned to create and promote opportunities for the caring connection that is so badly needed in these increasingly lonely times.
During these tea and dialogue sessions, I observed: (1) caring support, (2) appreciation that deep listening powerfully benefits both the speaker and the listener, (3) growing trust and openness, (4) delight in sharing natural objects and stories (5) playful and joyous creativity, and not least (5) satisfaction from being able to support each other in ways that truly matter.
Indonesian ikat weavings have always had multiple uses. They are worn as sarongs and wraps as part of everyday clothing. They express and preserve cultural identity with outstanding examples playing an important role in various rites of passage such as marriage and funerals. In hard times, these valued and appreciated weavings can mean survival as they can be sold or traded for food and other critical supplies.
The patterns are produced by wrapping sections of (usually cotton) threads so that they resist a particular dye that is applied to the rest of the (usually warp) thread. With traditional dyes, the multiple dippings and dryings needed to achieve the desired shade can be quite time consuming. Modern dyes can make that process considerably faster while extending the range of possible colors.
Once all of the desired colors are dyed into the thread, ensuring precision in the complex designs calls for a great deal of attention to detail and sometimes subtle adjustments during the weaving process. In fact, quality hand-made ikat calls for a great deal of care during all stages of the sometimes years it takes to complete one. For that reason, I was not surprised to learn that in Indonesia, Ikat is generally considered the domain of women.
I decided to hang a particularly colorful modern example over the door to my office. This one combines a dark central ikat section with many different fanciful animals and two red outer sections with sewn-on cowry shell designs.
The last image shows an indigo-dyed Ikat hanging up in my tea hut in place of a scroll. Its Christian symbols are not a problem for its use during Japanese tea ceremony practice. In fact, Christian foreigners were among early adopters of Japanese tea ceremony and there are examples of a variety of early tea ceremony utensils including tea bowls that incorporate Christian symbols.
Hannah Regier with her “Color Harvest Moon” weaving. Photo by Jeff Klein.
This short documentary shares the world of Hannah Regier, who struck me as someone who truly lives by Japanese Tea ceremony’s core principles – Harmony, Respect, Purity and Tranquility.
I felt them in where and how Hannah lives, in the care she takes with her fabric art made using natural dyes gathered from the nearby fields and woods, as well as in her efforts to work with others to protect and share the lessons of natural places. There were other aspects of the the Way of Tea as well including creativity, generosity, and a deep appreciation for subtle aspects of the passing seasons.
Japanese tea ceremony was brought to its peak in times of war and great uncertainty. My trust in the worth of the art’s timeless values of harmony, respect, purity and tranquility provided a much appreciated anchor when things started to fall apart in my own life. But experiencing Hannah’s world made clear to me just how much those values can help to foster joy, connection and meaning, all of which are powerful antidotes to the helplessness and hopelessness it is all too easy to feel in these particularly challenging times.
Hannah Regier (her website), and videographer Jeff Klein (his website) both contributed their considerable artistic skills to this project. I am also most grateful for how Jeff Klein wove the sound of the stream behind Hannah’s studio throughout, an appropriate reminder of the importance of nature in the Way of Tea, in Hannah’s world, and, in fact, in all of our lives.
With all the turmoil and craziness these days, I am grateful for physical activities like shoveling snow that can put worrying in the back seat for a while. If it were a bit warmer and less slippery out, I would no doubt be walking in Menotomy Rocks Park with my camera handy.
As it is, “playing around” taking photos of a colorful abalone shell puts me at the intersection of nature and creativity – two of my favorite refuges.
Why not try it? Pictures of any natural object taken from different angles in different lights can be quite a rewarding revelation. Taking a break to ground oneself in what is real and concrete in the here and now can really help when your mind starts spinning out with what could be.
In early January, an interesting conversation started up in an online forum on holiday decorations in my town, and I noticed that my partner had decided to join in. Based on the reactions, I was not the only one impressed by what he had to say:
“Very recently this discussion of decorative lighting seems to have started turning ugly, and I am not referring to holiday-sweater ugly. I am referring to a hostile tone including some intolerant references to other people’s religious observances.
Let us be very clear: when someone says ‘This town isn’t what it used to be’ he probably doesn’t mean we should give it back to the people who called it Menotomy and were here before Columbus. He probably doesn’t mean we should tear down all the buildings and bring back the farms. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean that, like the Puritans who were here 400 years ago, we should ban Christmas observances as being too ‘pagan’.
So this isn’t about history; it’s about a false nostalgia for something that never happened in the way it is being ‘remembered’.
There were Jews on Columbus’s boats. There were Jews and Muslims here in the Colonies. Jews and Muslims fought in the American Revolution. Jewish worship was supported by Adams, Washington, and Jefferson. Jews and Muslims are full citizens of this country and have been since the founding. The original colonies were populated mostly by Protestant Christians, but they were sects of Protestants who were themselves victims of oppression, and who did not want anyone who held different beliefs telling them how to practice or observe. The compromise enshrined in the US Constitution is that no religion should be legally subordinated to another. In the course of two and a half centuries we have interpreted that to mean also that no person should be forced to pay for another’s religious observance.
By all means, decorate your homes and businesses — if that is what your conscience and your aesthetic taste encourages. White lights, colored lights, ultraviolet lights and DayGlo posters, all good. If you think Town property should be decorated, and you are willing to pay for it, great. I’m all in favor of pushing back the darkness — light bonfires, bang on pots and pans, scare away the dragon eating up the sun. Within the bounds of the noise laws and somewhat good taste, of course — I’m not too big on 8-foot Dancing Santas in front of Town Hall.
But we have a tradition of protecting minorities in this country. Unfettered democracy is two wolves and a sheep voting on what’s for dinner. We do not, and should not, do that.
So don’t ask others to pay for your decorations. Really, that’s all. By all means, volunteer. Donate. Organize. Just do not put it in the Town budget and require others to pay for your holiday. Yesterday was Orthodox Christmas, and I apologize for missing it. I hope it was happy, for everyone.
As that song by the Russian Jewish immigrant says, ‘May your days be merry and bright.’ As that itinerant rabbi from Nazareth taught so many centuries ago, love your neighbor as yourself.
All best wishes”
See what I mean?
Someone added. “So, Arlington, we should honor our freedom and privately pay for our displays of lights, white or any other colors for July 4th, All Hallow’s Day Eve (Halloween), St. Lucia’s Day, Christmas, Hanukkah, Diwali, Lantern Festival, St. Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and more. All good. Shine on. And switch to LED lights, if possible! Save energy!”
Among the brief comments were: “Well said!”, “I love this message”, “Thank you. Beautiful and spot-on to all points.”
One person listed 16 “Christmas” songs and the names of their Jewish composers. Another noted “a government ensuring religious freedom and the separation of ‘church and state’ was a truly novel and incredibly important development in the world’s history.”
And when it comes to what might be considered to be in good taste, I cannot resist adding a comment about a young fan of inflatable holiday decorations that appeared a bit later: “Holiday Inflatables – My 4 year old is obsessed and so sad that they are all going away. I promised him one more neighborhood drive-through this Saturday night, around 5, to look at whatever is left.”
I was walking around Hills Pond yesterday and came across a woman holding a small pumpkin up in one hand. I asked her if she would mind stopping so I could get a photo of the lovely image. She told me she was bringing that pumpkin to mark the spot where Scouts would be leaving 75 other pumpkins for the “Spooky Walk” that evening.
Sure enough, I noticed her pumpkin sitting on a hill as I continued around the pond and decided to return in the hopes of getting a few good photos. A full moon should help even though it would be getting quite dark by the time of the event. I had seen people setting up for the Spooky Walk in a previous year and it looked like it could be quite interesting.
As she had told me would be the case, that “starter” pumpkin had been joined by many others – a back row spelled out “S P O O K Y.” Hopefully, the photos below will give you some idea of the highly creative nature of this home spun event.
As I walked back along the path through the deep woods I was glad that I had remembered to bring a flashlight. By that time, quite a few other points of light were coming toward me along the path. I could hear parents reassuring their children that the pond where the event takes place was quite nearby.
Once I came across a child beating icy Hills Pond with a stick. It made a most appealing bonging sound. Later I heard haunting chirps and zinging at the same pond. Since I was the only one there, I had to assume the ice was making those sounds all by itself. Searching online, I came across Jonna Jinton’s videos with the other worldly, yet peaceful sounds and the beauty of the crack patterns that ice can make as it freezes. Fascinated, I decided to review Jonna’s numbered vlogs in the order they were posted.
Vivid aliveness and a deep appreciation for the changing seasons in unspoiled northern Sweden where Jonna lives informed all that she shared. Living in her very tiny community also required a great deal of hard work just to stay alive and keep warm, along with a willingness to accept dark times – quite literally unavoidable in winter that far north. As she had hoped, Jonna’s online business selling lovely silver jewelry, prints of her photos and large paintings provided a means to support several family members and friends in a place where jobs were hard to find.
Besides her various creative endeavors, the videos show Jonna interacting with beloved pets, renovating buildings, making paints from local materials, and singing to cows. She shares her world in breath-taking drone footage as well as from more intimate camera angles. While she makes clear that she hopes her videos can bring the inspiration of nature to those who lack access, she does not invite envy. Rather she asks each of us to consider what we would like to have in our own precious lives.
As for me, I am grateful to have a pond nearby where children make bonging sounds. Hills Pond was singing by itself again when I went looking for ice photos this morning inspired by Jonna’s passion for “what ice can do. “ice art.”
As we walked along the trail, a friend told me that her grandchild loved pine needles. He also liked looking for hollow logs that would make good houses. My friend seemed to share her grandson’s delight in the magical quality that can be sensed just below the surface in many forest settings.
Perhaps because children can be particularly sensitive to the intelligence of other species, or because of their vivid imaginations, looking for or constructing “fairy houses” seems a perfectly natural thing to do. I thought of the troll that my Aunt brought back from Norway at my request. I promised my friend that I would take photos of him in the park.
Indeed, this eager little fellow seemed to be quite at home in these woods far from his native land.
My town’s art association was holding a haiku contest. The haiku should refer to something the writer experienced in Arlington Heights, Massachusetts.
My feelings for this area where I live had deepened during the pandemic. I was more appreciative of kind neighbors and the caring friendliness of those working in local businesses. I spent more time in nearby parks enjoyed by children, families and dogs both on and off-leash.
As I walked along Massachusetts Avenue near its intersection with Park Avenue looking for haiku from the contest, I came across several in the process of being painted. I said to one of the painters, “Maybe this has started something. Maybe there will be more poetry displayed in Arlington Heights.” The woman doing the painting agreed that should happen.
I noticed that some of the signs shop owners had put up in their windows felt a bit like poems. Looking back along the street, I knew it had happened again. I felt a new appreciation for this particular corner of the world.
Radiant Refuge 