The First “V”

This morning the first “V” of Canada Geese honked overhead on its way south. I’ve known change is coming. Even though change is always in process, there are times when enough of it accumulates that an energetic shift occurs, and I feel it. The morning glory fence is on the wane with fewer blooms and more scraggly yellow leaves. Sometime in August, I usually feel a nip in the air announcing fall. As a fall person, a student and former teacher born in September, I associate fall not only with harvest, but also with the excitement of new beginnings. New crayons, pencils, books, lessons.

In the garden, sunflower buds atop rough, hairy stalks grow larger daily. Clearance from the orthopedic surgeon this week to return to aquacise will alter my daily schedule. Real estate practice is calling my name - three potential clients showed up, and I attended a computer class at the association office.

I’ve read several books in the last two weeks unlike anything I usually read: American Fascists: The Christian Right and the War on America, Empire of Illusion: The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle and War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning, all by Chris Hedges. I was prompted to check them out of the library after seeing Bill Moyers interview Hedges. It intrigued me that Hedges was not only a Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist for the New York Times, but also a graduate of Harvard Divinity School. He and Bill Moyers were discussing the difficulty of taking a moral stand in a corporate environment. After fifteen years of working for the New York Times, Hedges was fired for denouncing the war in Iraq. I was shocked by some statements in his books. “AT&T and GM rake in approximately 80 percent of all porn dollars spent by consumers.” (“Annual sales in the United States are estimated at $10 billion or higher.” – Empire of Illusion, p. 58).

“Why am I reading this book?” I questioned. I reminded myself I’d just had a parallel experience while reading Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather, a story about the first Catholic bishop appointed to New Mexico. Then too I asked myself, “Why am I reading this book?” The answer came in the final ten pages when Cather described the importance of Shiprock, a large, red rock formation in the middle of the desert, and explained why it is sacred to the Navajo people. I’ve been drawn to go see it in person for some time now. More than two years ago, a Spiritualist medium told me I would be photographing and writing about sacred places all around the world before they disappear. Could this be the first one? I don’t know. Sure enough, the final ten pages of Hedges’ book knocked my socks off, and the last line stabbed a knife in my heart: “Tolerance is a virtue, but tolerance coupled with passivity is a vice.” Earlier in the week two political canvassers knocked on my door to discuss civil rights and environmental issues. I did what I’ve always done. I got rid of them as quickly as possible as politely as possible. And I believe in both their causes. I was devastated by the truth Hedges’ quote reflected about me. How will it impact my life? I don’t know. A Santa Barbara friend and I connected deeply and unexpectedly over Chris Hedges’ work. Why? I don’t know.

The ministerial team at my church is speaking on The 5 Love Languages: The Secret of Love That Lasts by Gary Chapman. I deeply respect and appreciate the ministers’ transparency and authenticity when they share in their talks how the lesson applies specifically to them. I’ve always needed teachers who share the good, the bad and the ugly, warts and all. It helps me relate to them. I purchased the book and cried when I read the following: “The emotional need for love must be met if we are to have emotional health.” (p.33) And “…life’s deepest meaning is not found in accomplishments but in relationships.” (p.40) Three years ago at a seminar on Understanding Men, in front of two hundred women, I declared a heart’s desire: “Before I die, I would like to love a man exactly as he is and be loved exactly as I am.” I believe that’s a daunting statement for anyone, let alone someone my age. I’ve been divorced for twenty-nine years. I’ve always enjoyed my own company and time alone, which I’ve never experienced as being lonely. But once my son and friend returned home after post-surgery caregiving, it was hard for me to adjust to being alone again. I miss my friends and family and have been feeling lonely. Will my relationship status change? I don’t know.

This week a dear friend who is a minister submitted a letter of resignation after serving her church for nine years. She told her congregation, “Spirit is leading me toward something that wants to be born. I don’t know what it is. Spirit will take me where I belong. Spirit will be with me wherever I am. With Spirit’s strength, I can do anything. It can only be good and greater good.” Embracing change, moving forward into the unknown, is a journey of faith. 

Branches of the Siberian Elm on my back patio toss in the wind, thrashing the green, saw-toothed leaves. Windchimes clang. The sky darkens. Monsoon rain streaks my windows. Change is in the air though I don’t know what it is. Morning glories fade. Sunflowers prepare blooms. Hummingbirds will leave. Sandhill Cranes and Canada Geese will come, stay, go. And it will snow.