Out beyond ideas of
wrong-doing and right-doing
There is a field

I'll meet you there......

You've heard it said there's a window that opens
from one mind to another.

But if there's no wall, there's no need
for fitting the window, or the latch.

Rumi,
13th Century Mystic

(For more Rumi poetry and our biography of this mystic, click here)

Nature's "opening" from our Collecting Consort  Lake Superior tour last summer

---

 

Stiring the Spirit Within

 

The Sacred Art of Dying (Living with Hope) By Richard Groves

Changing Perspectives About Death I  have listened to this 2 - cassette  tape several times, and with each listening, I "hear" a little more.  I suspect Richard Groves may be slowly chipping away at the ice coated denial that covers my perspectives of death.  Richard is an experienced hospice chaplain and founder of the Sacred Art of Living Center in Bend, OR.

In order to unravel the mysteries associated with dying, he went to the Abbey of Cluny in France where monks assisted the dying, one thousand years ago.  He examined their records and found considerable enlightenment.  

The hospice at the Abbey of Cluny was a place of life.  The patients were in the process of dying, but daily life was going on around them.  Families were meeting, sharing and eating their meals within the hospice, and the children were playing games, singing and dancing.  The dying patients were a part of this everyday "life".  

Spirituality was also a very major component, and the monks were skilled at providing physical and emotional comfort.  Today, in contrast, we focus on the medical care of the dying, and leave the spiritual and emotional pieces by the side.  

Richard Groves feels this lack of spiritual and emotional care is a rather recent trend in our country.  A century ago, 85% of our population died within our homes They were surrounded by family focused on a comfortable end of life transition.  By the 1960's, the figures were reversed and 85% were dying in some sort of medical or care facility where the emphasis was on a technical medical extension of life.  

Richard feels this trend is once again reversing, and we are again desiring a more complete "nearing death" experience within our own homes.  However, he feels even more can be done to enhance the quality of this final journey for us and our loved one.  

As a result of his work and his research, Richard has concluded that the only way to die a "good" death is to make sure that our emotional pieces have been completed.  He often finds that patients experience difficult physical pain or an inability to let go into transition when they are blocking un-resolved emotional issues.  The issue might be an emotional distancing from a sibling or a child.  Or it may be failing to share some important words with a mate.    

Dormant now, these beautiful examples of new life will soon be touching us as the warmth and length of our day increases.

He recommends that we do whatever is necessary as caregivers to remove blocks to a "good" death and to help loved ones live each day as joyfully and peacefully as possible.  He encourages and facilitates our efforts by sighting several revealing and wonderful stories about how he has assisted his patients.   

     A St. Valentine's Day History Lesson  

Valentine's Day was a Christian replacement for the old Roman celebration of Lupercalia, a festival that honored Juno Februata, the goddess of (febris) love.  Reportedly, this was the day when the birds would choose mates.  The Roman calendar placed February a little later in the year than ours.

As an extension of this natural occurrence, the Romans would also choose mates for the coming year on this date.  Annually, on the ides of February, love notes or "billets" would be drawn to partner men and women for feasting and romantic game playing.

The early Christian church felt that such a celebration was promoting the wrong actions and thoughts and that relationships should be based on a true loving desire to live and share with each other.  Therefore they decided to replace the celebration of Lupercalia by honoring St. Valentinus who had been previously executed on Feb. 14th. 

    St. Valentine   

The only difficulty with this choice of saints was the life style assumed by Valentinus.  He reportedly was a chaste man, and lacked experience with the art of love that he was chosen to represent. 

In order to make him a little more appealing, the church probably enhanced the story associated with the celebration of his day.  Regardless of its validity, the story has survived and Valentinus' saint's day has become a tradition that has evolved and been celebrated for many centuries.  

   The Legend   

During the days of the late Roman empire, young Roman males lacked a desire to participate in the Roman army.  Emperor Claudius II thought he could solve this problem by preventing ties to the local Roman community.  He therefore outlawed all marriages with the hope that his soldiers would be more willing to leave home to fight if they didn't have formal relationships with members of the opposite sex.

Valentinus reportedly ignored Claudius' decree and secretly conducted several wedding ceremonies.  Caught in the act of assisting and facilitating these loving relationships, he was arrested and imprisoned.   

His jailer's daughter was blind, and according to legend, Valentinus cured her blindness.  The young girl fell deeply in love with Valentinus but was unable to save him, and he was beheaded on February 14th.  

However, before his execution, Valentinus managed to slip a parting note to the girl.  The message, of course, was signed, "From your Valentine".  

    Your Celebration   

We trust your celebration of this day will end on a more positive note.  Find some ways to make this day extra special.  Be sure to express your love and enjoy sharing with your loved one(s) in a warm and caring way.                                                 

This photo is a little outdated.  It has been sitting on my desk awaiting an opportunity to share it with you.  While gas prices are bouncing around at their lowest levels in two years, I felt that this creativity for dealing with our high gas prices last summer deserved to be shared.  

Several years ago, friends asked Anne and me to journey with them to the New River in West Virginia.  This water course is known for its exceptional white water rapids, and our friends were suggesting we explore it with them via a rubber raft.  

Age not being a problem at that time (mid forties), we jumped at the opportunity and made the trip by van doing an overnight along the way with sleeping bag and tent.

When we arrived at the departure point, we were assigned our guide.  I was immediately turned off and a little disrespectful of his "know it all" instructions.  After all, I was trained in instructing others in survival techniques, and this "kid", probably a freshman in college, was telling me what to do with a very "know it all" manner.  

Making me even more distrustful was his appearance.  His oiled tan was topped with a mop of bleached blond hair, and he was clothed in a minimal tank suit with a large air of bravado set off by a 10" survival knife strapped to his upper arm.  I can still picture this cocky authority standing there, arms crossed, lecturing us on our conduct. 

Even through my clouded judgment, I still allowed myself to hear that we were to remain in the raft at all times.  However, I was not willing to believe or accept the premise of his next statement. 

If we fell out of the raft, we were not to attempt to swim.  

I don't know how you feel, but those words went completely against my better instincts.  I knew I would do everything under my power to determine my future against that forceful current.  Maybe I was not the expert I thought I was.  Perhaps I had better consider listening with a little more attention?  

He pointed to a large rock about the size of a pickup truck standing on its end in the rapids in front of us.  He told us to note that the white water was going to both sides of the rock.  However, we were unable to see that some of the water was hitting the front of the rock and going down underneath washing out a small hole in the gravel below.  He said this was called a "shoot".  

If we were to fall out of the raft in front of the rock and begin swimming, we might break the natural flow of the water to the outside of the rock and instead be hauled down and permanently wedged into the "shoot" by the tremendous force of the water.  If we were lucky, they might find one of our tennis shoes the following spring.  That sounded like an awful "nearing death" experience.

He then held up one of the heavy duty life jackets we would be wearing and pointed to the 4' foam collar and the 4" chest area of the jacket.  

He said this life-saving device would float us untouched like a cork through the rapids . . . if we didn't swim.  All we needed to do was allow our feet to come up in front of us and lay calmly on our backs.  He concluded that we might enjoy the experience so much that we would want to do it again, but that wasn't allowed.  

We made it through this wonderful experience without falling into the water (However, the cocky guide did when he tried to "show off".  Catching a rock with the back of the raft where he was sitting, he was thrown into the turbulence).

Each day, as I grow a little older and a little wiser, this metaphor for life makes a little more sense.  I still choose to swim up river from time to time, but I have also learned to recognize when it is better to calmly lay back, let my feet float to the surface and trust Mother Nature's flow to carry me safely home, enjoying the "spirit" of the trip.  

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