One Hundred Reasons to be Grateful this Year

At some point as I was compiling my gratitude list yesterday, I was reminded of the Thanksgiving Prayer I heard recited at the Akwesasne Indian reservation some years back. I was at the reservation with a group of scientists who were studying the Mohawk mothers' breast milk, testing it for PCB contamination.  Before the scientific meeting started, however, a tribal leader gave the traditional Thanksgiving Prayer, sharing with us all the things that the people were grateful for. The prayer lasted a long time, during which the tribal leader made a long list of things in nature, from clouds to strawberries. In effect, he was thanking all of creation and it was very moving and a lovely way to look at the world.

A gratitude list is similar. When you start to notice the things you are grateful for, you realize that you can thank as many things as you can see, and and think of, many, many things you can't see either.

So here it goes, the things I am grateful for:

1) my husband and amazing life partner, Richard Kirsch

2) my children, Jocelyn, Lindsay and Noah, and Jocelyn's husband Evan

3) my parents, Dena and Ric Ricci

4) my in-laws, Abby and Bob Kirsch

5) my sisters Karen and Holly  Ricci

6) my brother Ric, his wife Fawn and their wonderful family, Gretchen and Todd and J.M., and the newest members of the clan, Max and Nora

7) my brothers-in-law, Jim and Billy Kirsch, and their wives, Gayle Kirsch and Julie Simpson

8) my sister-in-law Jo Kirsch and her husband Bob Speck

9) my nieces Sarah and Lauren Donohue

10) my nephews Alex and Julian, and my nieces Natalie, Isabel, Megan and Samantha.

11) my friend Peggy, who is funny and kind and smart and who reads all the fiction I write.

12) my friend Leslie, a wonderful friend and painter and gardener who got me started painting and also taught me how to compost.

13) my friend Louise-Anne, who held my hand this year during one of the most frightening episodes of my life

14) my friend and colleague Nancy Dunlop, an amazing poet and a woman who can be funny and make me laugh and whose shoulder is always available to cry on

15) my friend Lori who is brilliant and creative and sweet and who always makes me smile

16) my friends Sharon and David, who are two of the nicest people in the world (and great writers too.)

17) my friend Nina who I never see enough of
18) my cousin and friend Pat Rotondo, who fortunately lives in the next town over
18) all of the friends and colleagues and acquaintances I haven't listed separately, including Karen, Rebecca, Sandy and Sandy, Barbara, Judi, Lenore, Tyler, Peter and Kathleen, Kellie, Connie, Patrick, Gail, Denise, Maria, Cathie, Becky, Cathy, Kathleen, Dan and Carol, Andy and Kellie and Maya
20) all of my aunts and uncles and my husband's aunts and uncles
21) all of my cousins and my husband's cousins, and my second cousins too
22) all of the people I may have forgotten to list
23) I am grateful that my left ear has stopped ringing, as long as I don't drink coffee
24) I am grateful for my health, as it is ten years ago this year that I had cancer
25) I am grateful for my body, that it basically doesn't pain me anywhere
26) I am grateful that I can jog, even if it's very very slowly
27) I am grateful for my Jewish religion and the Torah, and the synagogue, Hevreh of Southern Berkshire, where we worship, and our wonderful Rabbi, Deborah Zecher, who has been leading our congregation for 20 years
28) I am grateful for my house, and my yard, and my pond, especially in the summer when it's hot, and my bed and my desk and chair. I am especially grateful for grass and flowers in the summer.
29) I am grateful for my car that gets me to where I need to go
30) I am grateful that I can see and hear and feel and touch and smell and taste and talk
31) I am grateful that I have a job that is meaningful
32) I am grateful that I can write
33) I am grateful that I still have my memory
34) I am grateful that I have nourishing food to eat, particularly vegetables and fruits
35) I am grateful that I have clean water to drink, and a hot shower when I need one
36) I am grateful that I have consciousness and that I can think clearly, at least some of the time
37) I am grateful that I can read
38) I am grateful for books
39) I am grateful that I wrote and published two books and several short stories
40) I am grateful that I have the time I need to do things like photography and guitar
41) I am grateful for my guitar, which relaxes me
42) I am grateful for my drum, which does the same
43) I am grateful for my camera, and that I can take photographs whenever I want
44) I am grateful for the internet when it allows me to connect with people and keep abreast of the world
45) I am grateful for my education, which was a privilege
46) I am grateful that I have clothes and shoes and coats and boots
47) I am grateful for flowers and the fact that I can grow them
48) I am grateful for the woodstove and the lovely fires we burn in it
49) I am grateful for sleep and how it refreshes me
50) I am grateful that I have the time to be grateful
51) I am grateful for beautiful sunrises and sunsets and skies full of clouds and empty of clouds
52) I am grateful for all kinds of music and the fact you can get it so easily on the internet
53) I am grateful for coffee even if I only drink it once in a great while
54) I am grateful that I have traveled to places that are special and beautiful
55) I am grateful for all the people who raise the food that I eat
56) I am grateful for my hands and fingers that can type on these keys
57) I am grateful for my eyes, that never cease to amaze me in their ability to see (yes, I know I'm repeating myself but some things are important enough and worth repeating.)
58) I am grateful for all the beautiful hikes we've taken through the years
59) I am grateful for the canoe we got this summer and the relaxing canoe rides we've taken already
60) I am grateful for my hair and my teeth, my fingernails and toe nails
61) I am grateful for my freedom, living in a country which is not a dictatorship
62) I am grateful for the New York Times and NPR, which deliver the news
63) I am grateful for good meals I share with my husband and family
64) I am grateful that my husband cooks so well and makes me good dinners
65) I am grateful that I can digest said dinners
66) I am grateful for all trees and animals, especially little Milo, my daughter's Havanese
67) I am grateful for breath
68) I am grateful for meditation and what it does for me
69) I am grateful for medication and what it helps me do
70) I am grateful to live in a beautiful part of the country
71) I am grateful for dark skies and brilliant stars and planets
72) I am grateful for amazing colors, and the ability to see them
73) I am grateful for laughter and funny jokes and good (smart) comedians like Stephen Colbert
74) I am grateful for good movies which lift my spirits
75) I am grateful for health insurance which helps pays my bills
76) I am grateful to all those who helped to pass the Affordable Care Act, so that more people in this country will have health insurance
77) I am grateful to political activists who fight for the causes that I believe in: clean air, clean water, economic justice, eliminating corporate greed, green issues, human rights issues, climate change, and all the other progressive causes I haven't listed her
78) I am grateful for my local radio station, WAMC and all the news and features it brings me
79) I am grateful for my study, painted lemon yellow.
80) I am grateful that I can paint on canvases with bright swatches of color

81) I am grateful for the painting (above) I did that I am staring at right now.

82) I am grateful for this painting too, one of my favorites
83) I am grateful that several people have asked for my paintings
84) I am grateful that I have the time to paint
85) I am grateful that I have the freedom to learn to do anything I want to do
86) I am grateful for sunny days and mild spring breezes
87) I am grateful for wine, even though I can't drink much
88) I am grateful that my son-in-law is such an amazing guy, and an incredible cook
89) I am grateful for libraries, even though I don't rely on them as much as I should
90) I am grateful for coffee shops, the names of which I won't mention here
91) I am grateful for art museums, especially the free ones in Washington, D.C.
92) I am grateful for love, and that probably should be number one on the list.
93) I am grateful that I had four grandparents that I knew well into my adulthood
94) I am grateful for my Italian heritage, which is filled with art, good food and good times
95) I am grateful for chocolate even if I don't eat that much of it
96) I am grateful for peanut butter, especially smeared on slices of a good apple

97) I am grateful for the birds that come to the feeders, especially the newest arrival, the red-bellied woodpecker with such a beautiful downy yellow color
98) I am grateful for my cell phone and all the people and information it connects me to.
99) I am grateful that I have learned a thing or two about being forgiving, and learned that it makes living a lot easier not to be toting around resentment or bitterness.
100) I am grateful that the surgery I was scheduled to have tomorrow was postponed indefinitely as the problem seems to be resolving on its own. This should probably be way up high on the list.

Finally, I am grateful to be finishing my gratitude list, at least for now. The challenge for me is to learn to remain in gratitude, being thankful as I go through the day.

A New Year, Join me in Making a Gratitude List?

You wake up on New Year's morning to a blank slate (and a beautiful, pristine, snow-covered yard.) There are 365 days ahead of you and part of you wonders, how exactly will you fill them? What will you do with this precious time that lies ahead? Do you face the year with excitement and optimism? Or with indifference or even dread?

Maybe the best way to start the year -- and to keep it going strong -- is just to be grateful. No matter what your situation is, you can always make a long, long list of things that enrich your life and make you happy.  The funny thing about making such a list is that it quickly snowballs -- the more you add to your list, the more things you start to see around you that belong on the list.

Of course, it shouldn't be surprising that living in gratitude has its health benefits. Psychology Today ran a piece a few years back highlighting some of the studies that suggest the positive benefits of being grateful. Not only is it a good mood booster, but people who are grateful have been shown to sleep better and have fewer physical illness symptoms.

It stands to reason that if you are focusing your brain on things that make you happy, your mind is going to benefit, and if your mind is in a good place, your body will probably follow suit.

So in the interest of starting the year off on the right foot, I am going to make a long list of the things I'm grateful for. Actually, I'm going to see how long a list I can make. It might take me at least a day. Who knows how long it will take. I'm going to keep updating the list until I feel like I'm finished.

I don't mind sharing my list with you, but I certainly don't expect that you will be interested in reading my list. (When I finish the list I will post it.)  I am kind of interested to know if my deciding to write down my gratitude list gets you thinking about writing down your own list. If it does, and if you want to share your list with me, please do, I'd be happy to run it here in the MyStoryLives blog. If you think about it, a list of things you are grateful for tells a neat sort of story about you. So feel free to email me at claudiajricci@gmail.com.

New Year, Old Problem: Learning to Deal With Disappointment

By Claudia Ricci

I arrived on the first day of the four-day silent meditation retreat telling myself not to have any expectations.  But of course I brought them along nonetheless.

What I was hoping for was a lot of silence. Plenty of quiet space in which I could begin to hear the truths buried in my heart.

The woman leading the retreat was nice enough. And very well meaning. But almost immediately I realized that she talked way too much.

In the first three hours of the retreat she led us through maybe 8 different exercises, all of which took considerable explanation.  I kept waiting for her to say, "And now, we will take the next 20 minutes (or 30 or 40) and remain silent."

It never happened. About 10:30 in the morning she took a half hour break.  As I poured a cup of tea, I realized that I was pretty upset that I wasn't getting what I thought I needed from the retreat.  I considered leaving, but decided that I hadn't given it enough time.

After the break, she led two exercises which felt wonderful, and so my hopes were rising.  But soon after, it was noon, time for lunch -- and this break was going to last two and a half hours.

Simultaneously, it started snowing like mad. The teacher told us that four to six inches of white stuff were expected. As I gazed outside the meditation hall tucked into a steep mountainside, all I could think about was the drive home. Me slipping and sliding down the narrow road in the dark (I was commuting.)

That's when I started seriously thinking about leaving.  I approached the teacher and thanked her for the morning session. I told her I was nervous about driving and she was very understanding and instructed me to take my retreat at home for the afternoon.

And so I left. Driving home, the snow tapered off (naturally) and I wondered if I'd made a mistake cutting the day short. And then I started thinking was this whole retreat a mistake?

Something curious happened when I got home.  I decided to sit at my own meditation table and call up a guided meditation on my computer. I listened to Sharon Salzberg and as always, she helped me to focus on and calm my breathing.  And then, while I took leek and potato soup out of the freezer for lunch, I went to Insight Meditation Society's list of "dharma" talks, and found a fantastic lecture by Christina Waldman. Called "The Wisdom of Disappointment," Waldman's lecture explores the way most of us live our lives, tightly bound to expectations for how life should be. When things don't turn out the way we think they should, we get frustrated, or bitter, or resentful. Or disappointed or depressed.

Waldman points out that life by its very nature is guaranteed to disappoint. Disappointments are "small deaths," she says, deaths of our wishes or what we imagine happening in our lives. The more we expect of life, the more likely we will be disappointed. The solution is to accept what is, and to be less tightly bound to expectations or aspirations. Be open to whatever it is that life brings.

And so as I sat eating my soup, I relished the words of this wise teacher.  And I realized that if I hadn't left the retreat center, I would probably never have heard this wonderful lecture.

Waldman pointed out that disappointment often happens to people who go on retreat. Sometimes people expect some dramatic change to emerge out of a retreat. A big turning point in life.  Or some kind of bliss. "We hope for rapture and we get an aching back. We hope for calmness and we get agitation."

Waldman believes in living life through what she calls "shouldlessness," in other words, avoiding mapping the way our lives should be. That's not to say we should have no aspirations. But she suggests we temper those expectations by accepting whatever life delivers up.

Life is unpredictable and uncomfortable and sometimes, downright painful. Bad stuff is guaranteed to happen. The more we fight it, the more we will suffer. Freedom lies in the ability to accept life on its terms. As she points out, life is by its nature "never certain, never sure, unpredictable, full of surprises, full of change. Reliability is just not the nature of this life and that's often what we're expecting and demanding."

By embracing life's disappointments and by holding our demands for life "a little more lightly," the happier we will be.

And so, this afternoon, as the retreat proceeds without me (I'll return tomorrow after the snowstorm ends), I am heading back to my meditation table.

I'm ready to make a few New Year's resolutions: I vow to try out Waldman's notion of "shouldlessness," that is, to live without tight hold of a map about how life should proceed. I vow to try to embrace life exactly the way it is, in all of its imperfections. I also vow to try to learn to live with the discomfort of disappointment.

All in all, I'd say the first day of my retreat was a great success.

Musings on Meditation

Perhaps it's because I am about to do my first four-day silent meditation retreat, starting tomorrow.

Or maybe it's because the last few days, with all the holiday activities, life has been so hectic and I needed space.

All I know is that when I sat down at my meditation table this morning, I immediately felt a glowing energy rise up inside me.

I sat in silence, just feeling my breath slowly coming in, and slowing passing out.

It was completely and utterly peaceful.

And it just went on and on and on. I drank a full cup of tea (which usually means I'm done meditating)
and then went to the kitchen and made a second cup. I came back to sit once again at the table, with the euphoria and peace that I had found just staring into the candle.

At some point I started thinking, "I just never want to stop meditating." I felt a sense of transcendence and joy and love that cannot be described in words.

And so now, I suppose, I'm ready for the retreat.  I don't expect four days of euphoria. I'm not sure what to expect.

But I'm excited to spend this time and space apart from life, listening to the voice, and the silence, within.

Happy Holidays!!

This is the Christmas poinsettia that belonged to my grandmother, Michelina Rotondo. I was fortunate enough to inherit the plant, which blooms big-time at Christmas.

And from this mother plant came babies.

HERE'S TO EVERYONE, MAY YOUR HOLIDAY JOY BLOOM ALL YEAR LONG!! 

A Plea to President Obama: Stay Progressive on the Fiscal Negotiations!

By Richard Kirsch

President Obama must remember the message of election night and back away from cutting Social Security benefits.

That progressive stance of Obama's didn’t last nearly as long as I had hoped. I put on my Obama baseball cap – the one I picked up from a street vendor walking to the inauguration four years ago – a few weeks before the November election. I’ve worn it every day since, to both celebrate his victory and cheer on the president for keeping to a progressive promise in the fiscal negotiations. Part of that promise was telling the DesMoines Register that Social Security benefits should not be cut. But it looks like my cap is going back on the shelf if reports that Obama is willing to cut Social Security benefits prove to be true.

There are three things to keep in mind about the president agreeing to cuts in Social Security benefits. The first is that Social Security’s benefits are slim, while retirement savings for most Americans are even thinner. The second is that if we are going to address Social Security’s eventual shortfall, there’s a simple progressive alternative to cutting benefits. The third is that this concession is giving in to the corporate deficit hawks, each of whom has huge personal retirement accounts. Let’s take them – very briefly – one at a time.

Social Security is what American seniors survive on. As Dean Baker reports, “The median income of people over age 65 is less than $20,000 a year. Nearly 70 percent of the elderly rely on Social Security benefits for more than half of their income and nearly 40 percent rely on Social Security for more than 90 percent of their income. These benefits average less than $15,000 a year.”

And most people don’t have savings to fall back on. Half of Americans have less than $10,000 in savings and nearly half of baby boomers are at risk of not having enough savings to pay for basic necessities and health care.

Point number two is if you are going to tackle the eventual Social Security shortfall – which has nothing to do with the fiscal talks since Social Security doesn’t contribute a dime to the deficit – there is a simple, progressive alternative to cutting benefits. Lifting the cap on payments into Social Security for income of greater than $110,100 would only impact 6 percent of wage earners and would extend the life of the trust fund for almost 75 years.

Finally, let’s look at the corporate CEOs who blithely talk cuts in Social Security, like Goldman Sach’s CEO Lloyd Blankfein, who told CBS News, "You're going to have to do something, undoubtedly, to lower people's expectations of what they're going to get." It’s easy for a guy who has $12 million in retirement assets to dismiss a cut in benefits of $1,000 and more as just lowered expectations. Other CEOs leading the campaign to cut benefits include Honeywell’s David Cote, with $78 million in his retirement account, and GE’s Jeffrey Immelt, with $55 million stashed away for his later years.

Hopefully the president will back away from cutting Social Security benefits. If not, we need Democratic leaders like Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid to keep to his pledge to keep Social Security out of the fiscal talks. And if a fiscal package with the cuts is presented, Democrats in both houses should offer an amendment, substituting lifting the cap on 6 percent of upper-income Americans for cutting benefits for all our retirees. That’s the kind of choice we need Congress to face.

But Mr. President, let’s not get to that choice: I really like wearing my Obama cap. 

Richard Kirsch is a Senior Fellow at the Roosevelt Institute, a Senior Adviser to USAction, and the author of Fighting for Our Health. He was National Campaign Manager of Health Care for America Now during the legislative battle to pass reform. This post appeared in Next New Deal and the Huffington Post.

Chapter 57, Sister Mysteries: Time to Face the Music

By Claudia Ricci 

The sky has a showy golden glow when Renata creeps out of the porch and into the cabin to sit beside Arthur's door. She's brought a blanket with her and the morning air is so cold that she arranges it over her head like a veil.

How ironic. For days now, Arthur has been waking at least an hour earlier than Renata. He's come to the porch, settled in the rocking chair, and sat there, just watching her sleep. Each time she awoke to see him in the chair, staring, creepy feelings circled up from her gut. She would pull the blanket up over her nose and ask him very politely to leave the porch.

Now, though, it's her turn to sit guard outside his bedroom door, waiting for him to wake up. She is anxious to speak to him as soon as he wakes because she will need his help -- and his wagon -- with her plan.

It occurs to her to say the rosary while she's waiting, but no sooner has she said the first four Hail Mary's than there is a scratching noise behind Arthur's door. It sounds like the dog clawing wood.

"OK, OK, I hear ya," Arthur says. And now she hears his feet planted heavily on the floor.

Renata bolts to stand and knocks.

"Mr. Arthur, good morning," she calls brightly.

He's at the door before he even answers. But he only opens it a crack. Renata glances down and instantly realizes why. Inwardly she  groans. She sees a naked hairy leg and swivels 180 degrees to turn her gaze the other way.

"Excuse me Mr. Arthur, I'm so sorry to disturb you before you're...er...ready to greet the world."

"That's not a problem at all, ma'am, I will be dressed and out before you finish your next prayer."

And so he is, he's emerged from the bedroom before she can even resituate herself on the floor.

"You are the early one today," he says, running his suspenders over each of his shoulders. He ruffles one hand through the mop of curls on his head, and then takes the same hand across the beard growing on his cheeks. For the first time she notices that his beard is reddish in color. His hair, as always, is a swarm of golden curls.

"Yes, well you see, I'm in a hurry, and I need your help, at least I'm hoping you can help me. Shall we go into the porch?" She doesn't wait for his reply but turns and he and the dog follow.

"Excuse me ma'am but you must allow Pete and...er...me to attend to our morning business." Arthur opens the cabin door and the dog lopes outside. Arthur follows. A short time later he and the dog return.

Inside the porch, Renata takes a seat on one of the benches at the edge of the porch and Arthur has the rocking chair. Pete settles at Arthur's ankles.

"I should say first of all that I put a mighty store into my dreams," she begins. "That's the first thing you should know. It may not make sense to you, but I had a dream last night which was like no ordinary dream. I was at the convent and my dear friend, Sister Teresa, I've told you about her, well, she was very seriously ill. I could see her thrashing in her bed, and the doctor was there, and the other nuns were all gathered around the bed saying prayers."

Arthur nods. "And so?"

"I must go back. I know it's crazy, I know I may pay dearly, but I cannot stand by thinking Teresa is ill and that I will not be there to help."

"But ma'am, she has people there to help her, no?"

"Well of course she does, but we...you must understand Arthur we are as close as real blood sisters. We came to the convent within a month of each other and we've been together ever since. And because of that, I have no choice. What if something were to happen to her? Dear God, I don't want to consider the possibility. If she were to die, I wouldn't see much point in carrying on my own battle. No, no matter that the risk is grave for me, I must go to her. Immediately. And so I will need your wagon. And ... and perhaps you driving if you're willing."  Renata's eyes were two dark flames in wide white pools. Her face was as pink and flushed as a fresh salmon.

Arthur shakes his head and lifts both hands outward. "I hardly know what to say. You're the one who told me all the reasons you wouldn't dare set out from here because the authorities are everywhere looking for you. Are you honestly going to go right back to the convent, right into the mouth of the lion? They'll be waiting for you, and I don't need to tell you, the gallows will finally claim you."

"I know I know." She lifts one hand as if to silence him. "But somehow I think God's hand is at work here. Maybe it's just time I just faced what I haven't been willing to face. I know as God is my witness that I didn't kill Antonie, but perhaps it's my destiny to pay for his death anyway.  I tell you Arthur, I'm ready for whatever happens. I won't be kept away from Teresa another day."

Arthur reaches down to scratch Pete's ears. He looks up.  "I hear you ma'am. And even though I cringe thinking what will happen, I cannot deny you what you're asking."

"So we can get going right away then?"

"Give me a few minutes to pack some vittles, and I'll git the wagon hitched." He eyes her. "You want to ride underneath a blanket, in case we meet anybody in the law along the way?"

Renata shakes her head. "I'll tuck my head beneath your widest-brimmed hat, and we can bring the blanket just in case. But I have had my fill playing the frightened criminal on the run. I won't return to the convent hiding under a blanket." She has a kind of passion in her voice that she hasn't felt for months.

Arthur stares hard at her, his eyes wide and bright. "Ma'am, if I might just say one thing, I am rooting for you, and if there is such a thing as God, and if there is such a thing as a miracle on earth, you would be the way I would see both of them happening in the world. What I'm trying to say is, I am on your side no matter what."

Renata blushes deep. "Oh Arthur, you shouldn't put too much store in me. God has plenty better clay to work with I promise you." She rises from the bench. "Now why you let me take care of packing food and water, I ought to be able to handle that while you take care of the wagon."

And so in less than half an hour, Renata and Arthur are side by side and already riding, with the dog and Arthur's rifle and some provisions covered by a blanket in back.

"I figure if we ride without stopping, we be right about at the valley leading to the convent by nightfall, or shortly after."  That's all Renata has to hear.

"Bless you Arthur. Bless you." She rides with her rosary beads wrapped tightly around both hands.

Sister Mysteries is an on-line novel about a nun, Sister Renata, who was falsely accused of killing her cousin. 

"Humbled"

By Kellie Meisl

I have returned to the woods. Some of you reading this know that I come out of the woods in the early spring when deer ticks awaken, and return in the late fall, early winter, when they become mostly dormant. I sometimes wonder if this cycle is for a bigger reason, would I explore as much in the winter if the season did not provide me with this suspended window?

I am humbled by the beauty of the woods. Even on days like today, when I feel chilly and unmotivated to bundle up, when I finally do, and get myself out the door, gratitude instantly melts away the chills. Today, though the daylight was grey, all around me, all I could see were beautiful colors and patterns. Nature is so elegant.

Culturally, December is an ornate season, filled with glitzy trappings, yet I find the most florid decor on walks in the woods, as if it was placed by sentient beings for the sheer pleasure of me discovering it. Even things that would not be traditionally considered beautiful are. It is the energy of the woods that provides me with this sensuous experience. I am certain of it. 

In the woods I am alone yet more connected that ever. The trees remind me of that as I trod upon their roots, knowing that each is joined to another in an endless web buried deeply within the earth. Too, their canopy seems to connect the vast space of sky. The trees remind me to reach.

I often refer back to a dream I had where a beautiful tree sailed toward me in a rushing river, and I was frantic thinking I needed to capture it to place it as a work of art in my home. I could not capture it but has not the artful tree captured my heart hundreds of times as I walk the forest? Indeed it has.

It is hard to put into words just how much the woods and the walks have changed me, for the better, but that has been the mission of my writing about the walks all along. So I try. In a way I have become less tolerant of pretense and more impatient by inauthenticity, even in myself. My walks in nature have challenged me to both reach higher and dig deeper, and in them I have found my true calling.

Kellie Meisl is an artist and writer who lives in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. This piece appeared first on her blog, called "Walk."  All the photos are Kellie's.

"Just Be"

By Claudia Ricci

Just feel your body.
Just feel.
Just breathe.
Just be in motion.
Just beware of your arms and your legs, your fingers and your toes,
your ears and your eyes, your stomach and your brain.
Just be grateful for all the marvelous things your body can do, mysterious things
like thinking, which we can't even explain.

Just be somewhere, somewhere quiet, and let it sink deep within you.
Just be the rain, or the sound of thunder
or the music from a wooden flute.
Just pretend you are sitting in a canyon
under a cornflower blue sky and that flute
music is floating overhead.

Just be sitting in your dinette
sipping a cup of tea watching
the red-headed woodpecker
snapping his beak against
the suet.

Just watch the birds settle and fly,
settle and fly.

Just let your eyes close and
just be glad for the drumming
that is your heart beat.

Just start to see yourself
a new way
apart from anything you
have ever accomplished.

Just sit still and follow
your breath in
and out
and in
and out
for at least half an hour a day.

Just be.


Painting by Claudia Ricci

Now Comes a Poem Crying out "Sacred"

Every once in a while along comes a poem and it stops you in your tracks. You read it over and over again and feel the words sinking into your blood and running through your veins. You are astonished that someone has written exactly what it is you needed and wanted to hear. You wish like heck that you'd written it yourself, but most of all you're just so glad somebody else did.

In this case, the poet who wrote the poem I have in mind lived hundreds of years ago. Hafiz, who lived from 1320-1389 (about 100 years after Rumi) is a highly celebrated Persian poet. Wikipedia claims that Hafiz' work can be found "in the homes of most people in Iran, Afghanistan and Tajikistan," and that people "learn his poems by heart and use them as proverbs and sayings to this day." Westerners learned of Hafiz' poetry largely thanks to Goethe, and later to Ralph Waldo Emerson, who translated Hafiz' work in the 19th century.

According to the book where I saw this poem (see citation below), an Indian teacher named Hazrat Inayat Khan, who is said to have brought Sufism to the West, once said of the poet "the words of Hafiz have won every heart that listens."

And so Hafiz has won my heart with a poem called

"Now is the Time."

Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child's training wheels
To be laid aside
When you can finally live
With veracity
and love.

Hafiz is a divine envoy
Whom the Beloved
Has written a hold message upon.

My dear, please tell me,
Why do you still
Throw sticks at your heart
And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time
For you to deeply complete the impossibility

That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is Sacred.


from The Gift, Poems by Hafiz, The Great Sufi Master, translations by Daniel Landinsky. Thanks to my dear friend Leslie Gabosh for loaning me the book! My hubby and I read Hafiz' poetry together in bed the other night; Richard actually found the poem and said, "this one is just right for you." He read it, and then I asked him to read it again. And again. I just lay there letting the words sink right into my body.

Paintings by Claudia Ricci