I Raked Yesterday

 I woke up early yesterday. The lawn needed raking before the final mow, so I got up and raked. I could hear the birds singing in the cool air, and raking felt good. I much prefer it to the din of leaf blowers.

Leaves falling into the Black River

Later in the day we walked in the woods to the south of us. Rain was expected in the evening and Friday, so we thought Thursday might be the last day to see good color before rain brings the leaves down. 

I found an old poem that I'm working on and will share here... I haven't thought about a title yet.

A lone leaf

Whirlwinds

Past my window

Too late

For the main event

The branches bare

The streets

Already hoovered

© Karen Eastlund

It's a beautiful time of year... I hope you are enjoying it wherever you are. My best to you.

It's Poetry Friday, of course. This week is hosted by the famous Matt Forrest Esenwine at Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme. Thanks for hosting, Matt!

The Language of Gratitude

 

Welcome to this sharing of Spiritual Journeys, hosted this month by Denise Krebs at https://mrsdkrebs.edublogs.org. Our topic is gratitude. Please join us and chime in.

A sermon pointed to the connection between gratitude and grace.  When I look at the words grace and gratitude together it seems obvious, but I had not thought of gratitude that way. But consider this... the word for thanks in Spanish... gracias.  And in Italian, grazie. 

The thing is, the connection surprised me. I couldn't get it, and I'm still not sure that I do. Am I overlooking the obvious that all good gifts (graces) come from God?  Am I making something out of nothing?  Why doesn't this work for me?

Frederick Buechner writes this about grace: Grace is something you can never get but only be given. There's no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about any more than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about your own birth.

But what did I know of grace? Was it a "wow" moment from above? Did I think grace had to leave me with my mouth open and tears in my eyes? What about the time that our car broke down in the middle of Iowa, and a guy pulled in right next to us, his family in the car, the back seat full of diapers and baby clothes, and the trunk loaded with nothing but car parts. He insisted on giving us the exact part we needed, and would take no money for it. I was pretty sure that was grace.

And what about gratitude? I knew that an expression of gratitude was the expected response to every kindness that came along, but maybe somewhere in that practice I had become jaded. I often said thank you only because I should. I uttered it for each cookie and pencil and open door, but it didn't seem to mean much. Had I lost the connection to grace?

I'm pretty sure we never fully realize our blessings, but now I have to ask if I discern them at all. Maybe the work of the day and the juggling of this and that gets my mind so cluttered that I forget the important things. And then, by the grace of God, these important things, these graces, sort of slap me in the face and say, "Hey! Pay attention!" Maybe with this challenge of connecting grace to gratitude, I'll begin to get it.  

In Thessalonians we are urged to give thanks for everything, in every circumstance, because it is the will of God. I'm sure I could only do that by grace.  Maybe that, for me, is the connection. Only by the free gift of grace...

Mary Oliver expresses gratitude so beautifully in her poem Mindful:

Every day
….I see or hear
……..something
…………that more or less

kills me
….with delight,
……..that leaves me
…………like a needle

in the haystack
….of light.
……..It was what I was born for –
…………to look, to listen,

to lose myself
….inside this soft world –
……..to instruct myself
…………over and over

in joy, 
….and acclamation.

  (read the rest here.)

She goes on to mention both the exceptional and the drab and ordinary. Her poem is another impetus to give thanks in every circumstance, for both beautiful and drab. 

I have surely been blessed well beyond my ability to discern grace, and well beyond my depth of gratitude. I can only pray for new insight, for a new heart, for the courage to share. 

Of the exceptional graces shown to me, I will share one which is appropriate to the season...

Years ago, shortly after the sudden death our little Andy, when gratitude was so hard to find, our 3-yr-old son Carl came home from preschool with a Native American grace he had learned for Thanksgiving, complete with gestures:

May the Great Spirit overhead                      - make a big circle above your head

In the future                                                      - extend your hand in front of you

As in the past                                                     - extend your hand behind you

Bring to our hearts                                           - put your hand on your heart

Much love and happiness                               - cross your hands over your heart

At a time when we most needed grace, there it was, a beautiful blessing, a fountain of grace from our own little one. 

November turns us toward Thanksgiving, and opens the door for grace. May our hearts overflow with gratitude.

PS: One practice of gratitude is to say grace at meals. Here is our traditional one:

Come, Lord Jesus

Be our guest

Let these gifts

To us be blessed.

Amen.

If you have a grace tradition, I would love for you to share it in the comments. And may the grace of God be with you and yours this Thanksgiving season.

A Monster at my Door

 Welcome friends! It's that time of year again... spooky sights appear all up and down my street, and yesterday, one showed up at my door.  What to do?  Write a poem, of course!

TREE MONSTER

A monster showed up

in my tree

It seems as if 

It laughs at me

It chomps its teeth

And blinks its eyes

But I'm not scared

It's no surprise

The night of rascals

Soon is here

When wizards, ghosts

And imps appear

When jack-o-lanterns

Wink and blink

When hoot owls hoot

And varmints slink

I'll play along

With all the fun

'Cuz soon enough...

       They'll all be gone!!!

© Karen Eastlund

In case you'd like to rehearse a Halloween song, here's a post from a few year's back with my attempt at scaring the bejeebers out of you!  Scary Halloween Song.

Thanks to the great Linda Baie for hosting our group today.  Find her spooky (dark and devilish) post here.  All the Poetry Friday gang will be sharing links at her place today. Don't miss the costume party!

This little apple

 Happy Poetry Friday... our gathering today is hosted by Bridget, who is announcing the birth of her anthology: 10•10 Poetry Anthology: Celebrating 10 in 10 Different Ways.  I am pleased and delighted to be one of the 58 poets whose work is in this book. Can't wait to get my copy!  It is available in paperback and Kindle versions via Amazon.

Hey... have you noticed it's apple season?  My usual breakfast is an apple cut into slices and slathered with peanut butter. If you have never tried it, I encourage you to do so!  Juicy, sweet, crunchy, peanutty and delicious!  

So, one day I took out a nice red apple, cut it open, and this is what looked at me.  I didn't arrange it or pose it. This happened naturally. It's true!!!

How can I ever face an apple again?  I could almost hear it speaking:

Sighs of a Sad Apple

Of all the apples

in the world

you had to

pick on me?

I'm worried sick...

I haven't slept...

as anyone

can see...

Ever since my

stem let go

I've been shaken 

to my core

Whatever will

become of me?

Applesauce?

Quel bore!

And so I've sat

bewildered

at the sound

of my own thud

Hoping that 

I hadn't bruised

or grown icky 

from the mud

But now you've

cut me open

I hope your

satisfied

Just because of you

I'm done!

Sliced open!

Mortified!!!

Well!!! If you would

make a fritter

I'd deign to

play along

Or better yet

an apple pie?

(I guess that can't

go wrong)

Add cinnamon

and sugar

a flaky crust

is nice

Make sure your roll

it evenly

And crimp around

each slice

And then I'd like

some whipped cream

A dollop up

on top

If you could promise

those things

I suppose my tears

might stop

And please use

your best china

and a table cloth

for tea

And when you take

a bite... just stop...

and heave a sigh

for me.

© Karen Eastlund

2021

Thanks again to Bridget for hosting.  Find her celebration of TEN at Wee Words for Wee Ones. 

Here...and now.

 Here in the NorthEast, autumn is ambling in.  Just today I noticed this...

Our friend Ramona Behnke offered the topic for Spiritual Journey this month, a fascinating one that came from Emily P. Freeman's podcast.

In the podcast, Emily quoted Dr. Larry Crabb asking, “What is true right now? The state of your mind, heart, will and imagination? And then also the state of your body, your surroundings, your place in the world today.” 

So Ramona asks... What is true here and now?

This month I'm blessed to celebrate a 50th anniversary with my hubby. We two have had quite an adventure over the years. Our children took us on a glorious week in Wyoming to celebrate, and the afterglow of that week will never wear off. 

Chris & Karen, 2003... my favorite if not most recent photo!

My church choir has resumed. I am here, totally present, listening as well as singing while in choir. The challenge and beauty of music still feeds and heals my soul. 

Autumn is my favorite season, filled with cool days and brilliant color. For me it is a time of both sadness and rejoicing as the season itself reflects. Autumn is always bittersweet.

My birthday is this month. I've earned these wrinkles and I'm thankful for each day, delighting in the beauty, opportunities and challenges of life. I'm healthy enough to go hiking here at 9,000ft. Woohoo!

Taking in the beauty here in WY

I have the challenge of leading the history committee in my town. We work hard and I'm proud of our members and the work we do here.

The traffic here is crazy. Why do I live in NJ?

I look for truth in the world and struggle to recognize it. I believe that God loves us and is here with us, but lets us learn the hard way. I pray for courage and insight.

During this long stretch of pandemic, I turn to some old favorites. In an old Christmas M.A.S.H. episode, there is much moaning about being away from home for the holiday. Having had enough,  Colonel Potter shouts, "If you ain't where you are, you're nowhere!!!" Potter's statement may not be eloquent, but it's true. 

What's true for you? Where are you at this moment? I'd love to read your response in the comments below.

Thanks to Ramona for hosting and providing this springboard. Find Ramona, links to others in our group, and more about this topic at Pleasures from the Page.

What's bugging you???

I recently came across some of my old poems that seem to fit a current theme. These are pesky poems, but instead of shooing them away I decided to share them. One today... maybe two next time.

We just returned from a family vacation near a remote lake in Wyoming. What a fabulous time... three delicious meals plus "teatime" each day, hiking, archery, horseback riding and fly-fishing. Also canoeing, which afforded my son and I a close view of an elk, an osprey, two otters and a little family of grebes. Wow!!! But... I noticed that many pines are dying due to the infestation of pine beetles. 

BEETLES

Being

Egregiously

Enthusiastic

Through 

Long 

Entomology 

Seminars

     - Karen Eastlund

Here in NJ we are fighting the invasion of the spotted lanternfly. They are beautiful, but so destructive. I cringe each time I step on one. 

The spotted lanternfly causes serious damage in trees, including oozing sap, wilting, leaf curling and tree dieback. Its annual damage exceeds hundreds of millions of dollars in lost agricultural production.

What bugs are in your bonnet?  Feel free to share them in your comments.

Of course it's Poetry Friday, and our host this week is Denise Krebs at Dare to Care. Be sure to check out her blog for other poetry postings. Thanks for hosting, Denise. 

Finding the Good

 Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday. On the first Thursday of each month we gather to share our insights. This month our focus is on virtues. 

As some of you know, I am #9 in a family of 10. Being one of the younger members, I have witnessed the death of a number of my siblings. This past month our number dwindled again, from six to five. Today I'd like to tell you about some virtues I noticed in the life of my oldest brother, Emil. 

Emil was a minister by calling, with special training in family systems and addiction issues. He was an avid fisherman, carver, cross country skier, poet, and story writer. His way was not easy. He had health issues for much of his life, and he had lost two sons and his wife.  

Emil was almost 20 when I came along, so he was chosen as one of my baptismal sponsors. He carved this little chickadee for me. Later, he wrote about seeing a chickadee at his window in the deep winter, and how it brought him hope.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

- Emily Dickinson

Emil always had a faithful outlook on life. He considered himself a peacemaker... a bridge builder... and when our family gathered he would ask that we put our differences behind us and enjoy being together. He provided leadership and courage, and our gatherings benefitted. 

I was amazed at Emil's endurance. I spoke with him a number of times while the senior residence was in total lockdown. He was completely isolated, unable to have any visitors, meals alone in his room. It was difficult for him, but didn't waste his time complaining. Instead, he found meaning in writing his memories and sharing them, reading, and contemplating life.

Emil was generous. For a number of years he invited family to his home in Wisconsin for a winter weekend ski-in. My gang attended just once, but the time we had together was wonderful. 

Emil and Judy, his wife, spent several weeks caring for my oldest sister, Margaret, when she was ill with cancer and her husband needed knee surgery. They cooked and cleaned and helped every way they could. What a labor of love!

I hardly remember a conversation with Emil that did not include a good laugh. He had a sense of humor and often saw humor that I would have missed, had he not pointed it out. 

Siblings see each other's weaknesses as well as strengths. We know the warts and foibles as well as glory and beauty. Yes, we had times of discord and impatience. That's only human. Through it all, we learned to love each other. Relationships take work, but it is good work, and work that I believe we are called to. A good model helps along the way, and I thank God for Emil and the good he upheld.

It is a great blessing when we can find virtue in others and have good models to follow. I hope you have good models in your life, and I wish you sweet and meaningful journeys.

8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 

Blessings all...

PS: Please post your links in the comment section. I'll do my best to round them up, but we have severe weather here now, so in case I can't get online you can follow each other via comments.