Why I Love the Unitarians

On Sunday, I took Maisie to see the Pageant of the Nativity at The First Parish Unitarian Universalist church in Portland.

Here is some of what the back of the program states: (I have highlighted the parts that spoke the deepest to me)

UU is a liberal religion with Jewish-Christian roots.  It has no creed.  It affirms the worth of all human beings and advocates freedom of belief and the search for advancing truth.

UU thought eagerly embraces the positive truths expressed by the great religions of the world.  Tonight's Pageant celebrates this inclusiveness not only by honoring the birth of Jesus, but also by underscoring the meeting of East and West in the presence of the symbolic Spirit of Goodwill.  It is our hope you will find in the presentation not only a celebration of the birth of one of history's great prophets, but also an expression of the true spirit of goodwill among all peoples. May you also sense the importance of the birth of yourself.  Just as candles lit the way for the apostles and disciples of old, when you light a candle at home, may you be reminded that the Light of the World exists not only in Jesus and the other prophets of old, but also in each of us.


The mission of the church is to nurture the spirit, serve the community, and help to heal the world.

Gun Control Begins at Home

There has been a great deal written and spoken lately regarding the need and battle for tighter gun control.  It appears (hopefully and blessedly so) that this latest and most inhumane mass murder/shooting has tipped the general populace into action.  People like myself, who had no (apparent) stake in the argument are now awakening to the reality of firepower available to the average Joe citizen. This latest atrocity has even managed to shake some long-time gun proponents who are now  vocal advocates of tightening things up. I was pretty laizez-faire regarding gun ownership. I don't own one (except a Daisy BB gun given to me as a gift) and don't desire to possess one.  I have shot rifles and hand guns but am far from an enthusiast.  I have never killed another living, sentient being with gun power. However, I am sickened by pro-firearm folk who trivialize and minimize and blame the victim with their blanket Neanderthal-like responses to the outrage and yes, reactionary (I would rather be reactionary to something of this magnitude, than numb or indifferent) voices. The pro gun agenda retorts: guns don't kill people, people kill people; if they had had a gun they could have defended themselves; the media sensationalizes the ammunition, the gun, etc.; I have a /an [ insert type of gun] and I don't go around killing people, it's my constitutional right...I challenge anyone who thinks these arguments are still legit and moral to look into the eyes of the parents of the children murdered and the spouses and children of the adults killed and voice this drivel.

It has been asked WHY would anyone need these types of weapons? Yet, a day after this latest killing spree gun retailers are reporting their strongest sales ever for the type of weapons that were used to kill women and children in a public school in a New England town during the Christmas season.

The question begs to be asked again...why?  Why do Americans feel they need the biggest, the best, the most powerful, the fastest, nastiest? Ego and self-worth? Because we are afraid?  Because we can? It is all a house of cards.

These things don't come cheap either.  Imagine all the good that could be done with that money...food for your community, heat for your neighbors, support for the environment, health care. If you want to keep the money in your own pocket take a trip, a class...anything but perpetuate a lifestyle of violence and selfish indignation.

  I used to sell cars a decade ago. A common stipulation from customers often would be "I don't want automatic windows". I would ask why and the response always came back "In case I end up in the water I want to be able to get out."  Really?  How often has that happened to you? Maybe you should take a driving class or a different route...which leads me to my point. Next time you feel yourself wanting to thump your chest and proclaim your right to possess that which is the biggest and the best and can deliver a can of whoop ass to whomever, ask yourself why?.

There's an old familiar feel to the air tonight-actually all day it has been there.  The sky is different, the leaves or lack thereof is shifted...the air, everything screams late November.  When I suggest it is an old feeling, I mean old.  Ancient, in the bones memory that is pre-verbal and primordial.  It has always been this way for me.  Winter, cold, chill, ice, Earth standing hard as iron and water like a stone-these are the things that simultaneously ground me and fill me with elation.

I have been subsurface giddy all day looking at my weather icon on my iphone showing snow for two days next week. On the flip side of that coin is my less subdued anxiety and agitation when we do get some of the white stuff and it is pummeled by rain or mixes with freezing rain before the blanketing is completed.

For someone like me, the effects of global warming robs us of our innate nature. I identify with the polar bear, among other Artic dreamers who find themselves cut off from their spiritual succor. (Although I am aware for Polar Bear it is a matter of physical life and death-and ultimately ours as well, no matter what the nay-sayers may state.)

Ullr hear our prayers.

News

Two new things added to PAGES: INSPIRATIONS and a new group offering in TALK.

Inspirations will catalog place, groups, events, writing people who inspire me.

TALK is taking shape with my commitment to offering sustainable personal development consultation.  What does this mean? It means coaching people to make changes they desire in their lives and relationships that are in line with their economic, social, and environmental values so that change and growth can be attained and maintained.  This coaching will be priced sustainably i.e. affordable. Hopefully, making it available to more people.

Individual and telephone sessions: $50 /hour; $75/ hour and one-half

Groups: $200/4 sessions/ 6 people limit




Please check these out  and share with your friends, families and colleagues.

Cellular Memory

Every night Abby goes for a walk.  Every other night, it is my turn to take her for her evening constitutional.  I always make her wait when we come back into the driveway until I unsnap her collar from the leash.  I get enjoyment from watching her bound up the steps into the house.  The other night I realized it is my middle-aged version of releasing the dogsled from the truck.

When I was young, my father and I raced dog teams.  We would hook the sled up to the bumper of the pick up truck and then put four to six dogs in harness and onto the lead and gang lines attached to the sled.  It was a loud and raucous and bursting with excitement and anticipation good time.  The dogs would leap and howl and shiver waiting for the moment when all that pent up energy would be unleashed. Usually, there was a plow comb where the town trucks stopped plowing the road and the trail began a few feet from where we launched the teams.  After all the dogs were ready to go, I would grasp the handle of the sled with one hand and reach down and unsnap the hardware on the line holding the sled, that was bouncing around and lurching forward with each lunge of the team, to the truck and swoosh-we were out of there like a shot. Within seconds I would be airborne on the sled going over the plow comb, hit the soft pack of the trail and the team would settle into their cadence.  We would glide into the woods, the cacaphony of the making ready falling away and replaced by the tamped down footfalls of the team, the slight sound of the runners on the snow and the breathing of the dogs.

What I would give for one of those afternoons with my dad and dogs again...everything was possible then.  

So for a brief moment a few nights a week I am 12 years old deep in the woods of upstate NY anticipating the ride even as I am watching and hoping my parent's geriatric Keeshound clears the steps into the house.

When you stop doing things for fun, you might as well be dead.  Long live fun and adventure.  Take more adventure days.

Just Out of Grasp

You know when you are searching for a word and it's just not coming to you?  You almost have it and poof ! it's gone. That is how I am feeling about creating the right livelihood I am looking for.  Perhaps it's just the contemplations are not quite the right fit, but there is something waiting to be manifested -I just know it.  Now if I could only manifest it.

Adventure may hurt you but monotony will kill you.