Sunday, June 23, 2013

Celebrating solstice

The sun cleared the sky above us just in time for us to gather in our orchard to share some food, shoot the bull, telling three truths and a lie, and began folding those 1,000 cups with friends. We invited six friends, three could come. We had a lot of fun and found at least three truths for every lie. Pete came up with the great idea of cutting up parts of an old United States atlas. He's a dumpster diver, and I think, quite proud of his knack for recycling. Five of us sat around the picnic table and said stuff like, "I'll take O'ahu. Did they include us in that atlas even though we'd rather not be?" Oh yeah, there it was. Pete cut a square to include my old valley. I folded. Pete found Sheboygan and cut and folded.  One of our friends is Brit-born and another a Southerner, the jokes that circulated when the Brit heard the name "Sheboygan" pronounced "She-a-boy-again" got a cackle of laughter from my lesbian pals.

We learned to make the simple five folds to make a paper cup, found New Yorker Magazine pages that were brightly colored or littered with satire. We folded cups and told stories deep; revealed other stories of our journeys thus far; assisted with praise as we ooohhed and ahhhed at the artistry of a new photo album created for parents. The sun stayed with us on Solstice, and dozens of them paper cups dangle from safety pins off a metal clothes hanger. Simple solstice ritual enjoyed and passed along.

"What're you going to do when you get a 1,000," one of our friends asked.

Over the top her glasses and without losing concentration from the fold another friend answered, "It's a meditation not a marathon."

Happy Solstice.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

For the Graduate(s)

"Anything you do from the soulful self will help lighten the burdens of the world. Anything. You have no idea what the smallest word, the tiniest generosity can cause to be set in motion. Be outrageous in forgiving. Be dramatic in reconciling. Mistakes? Back up and make them as right as you can, then move on. Be off the charts in kindness. In whatever you are called to, strive to be devoted to it in all aspects large and small. Fall short? Try again. Mastery is made in increments, not in leaps. Be brave, be fierce, be visionary. Mend the parts of the world that are "within your reach." To strive to live this way is the most dramatic gift you can ever give to the world."
We met years ago in a place where many women, and men, come to have their cup filled. Many of us came without knowing we lived on fumes but knew daily that life did fume. I was among the ones who thought, and still do think far more than healthy. Still there was room for me and all the others and in time we came to know each other and each others stories.
Time passed and the trials of living and the joys of being alive tipped weighing heavily on the trial-side. Distance, the physical sort separated us. Technology (a cellphone) allowed connection and I tethered to the good I found in our friendship. Tides came and went, health and wealth, came and went. I returned to her side of the Pacific, we retained our friendship and began to write together. Technology again. On-line writing group. She wrote about her transforming life. I wrote fiction to write myself well. We grew more devoted to the friendship.
"Mastery is made in increments, not in leaps. Be brave, be fierce, be visionary," writes Dr. Estees. Tonight my friend graduates from Skagit Community College. She has begun the first classes in anatomy with her eye on becoming an acupuncture practitioner. This friend who has raised a palm full of children on a homestead off-the-grid before became 'green' became a movement, is living Estees' assignment. Pete and I plan to venture north to celebrate her graduation.
This cup, I'll fold for Frea, our friend who has filled my cup when needed most. Thank you friend.

 

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Cups for a duck

We live in the woods surrounded by trees as tall as a hundred, maybe a thousand boulders stacked one on top of the other. In the shelter of our small homes we keep warm, cook cozy meals, sit in front of this screen and peck at the keys to create words that sometimes warm or soothe more than oats or stew. In those shelters we assume a life of civility, a kind of border from the reality of the wild that is greater than the illusion.

Beyond the orchard Pete has built smaller shelters to keep the ducks and chickens safe at night. Above the shelters and over the stretch of the free ranging yard my son and I have strung lines of string hung with ribbon and flags to deter the eagles from our feathered company. But ...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duck,_Death_and_the_Tulip

This cup is for Sid the Grand, our fine drake duck 
... eaten by the wild, taken by Death last night.

The rain has stopped, first rain in weeks. The clouds fill the cups for Sid a duck. We add our tears.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Support for Satori

Satori is my astrologer, one of two women who literally fill the cups of thousands every day. Time and again Satori has been there for me. I just found this request on ElsaElsa and put it here as a blazing example of practicing Rumi. Elsa wrote this plea for support for Satori:

"Satori is in hurting.  She’s in one hell of a state and she’s asked me, humbly, to come on here and ask people to pray for her, to send her good wishes, to light a candle for her…to do whatever they can, to send her support.
She specifically wants people to pray for her to have strength and wisdom and ability to cope right now. She needs to “keep her shit together” as she says, and wants to have this ability. She’s afraid she will fail...

Link to the full post here


Folding cups for Satori, meditating on Rumi ... Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness.  

for Satori


Monday, June 17, 2013

A never ending story ... "Someone fills the cup in front of us ..."

Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills 
the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness. -Rumi

The quote from Persian mystic and poet Rumi says it all for me. It's a beautiful day in my Pacific Northwest neighborhood, I'm excited to be alive and want to fill some cups, just like Rumi said. A metaphor? A ritual? An invitation? Yes to all of these. Timing is the secret to comedy, and the time seems right to fill the cup in front of me.

Earlier this month I wrote about the inspiration and the back story behind my latest excitement.




A dangle of paper cups have started to hang from safety pins in our Quonset hut. When we find our camera or buy another, we'll post pictures. In the meantime, the photo below will give you a beautiful image what the folded cups look like. These rain cups have been a source of inspiration ever since I first saw them.



How to start?
Try folding your first cup.


The instructions ABOVE are pretty easy to follow. The instructions suggest an 8x8 inch piece of paper but smaller (4x4's) work just fine; and if you have big paper, great. If you need a little more help try here.


Friday, June 21, 2013 is the first day of Summer, Summer Solstice. Great time for celebration and ritual. We'll be gathering in our orchard to fold cups and welcome summer.

Will you fold cups, too?