From the Minister

Was that the first light dusting of snow on Mary’s Peak this morning? I stared at it for a good long while before heading out to walk and check on the maples of the neighborhood, now flaming red and gold. In the afternoon, the slant of the autumn sun outlined the coast range as beautiful clouds continued to shift and move in the blue sky. Later as I drove to join a small group to honor and celebrate a wedding (the joy!) the Beaver Moon – last super moon of this year – was rising, huge and round in the eastern sky. My Christmas cactus – a cutting from an old friend now gone, is blooming today. More beauty than one can really understand, all in the space of a day.

Through this week I have watched and listened to many of you, with abiding thanks. Some are focused on helping others who really need help; some feel an edge – a need to fight where needed; some are not feeling so well; some are planning next steps and forward movement; most of us have moments of shock and disbelief and genuine fear for our country, and in my opinion those moments are more than justified.

In all of these ways – the beauty, the adjusting, the wondering, the helping and the fear – in all of these ways we are being called to be present – to keep alert to what is true within us and around us. We are given gifts, we are called to continue working, we are needed. It is in and through our all these parts of our lives that love becomes real in the world. Let’s keep going together, step by step.

This is the thing about Life, and about the world – no matter how much we think we know, there is always more going on than we can even imagine. We say we value the ongoing unfolding of truth. Well – here we are. A lot has unfolded! And there’s more to come.

There will be plenty to talk about in the weeks and months to come, and much will change. But some things won’t change – like the fact that we need each other, and that it is possible and necessary to keep love alive within us and between us, and that love will be needed everywhere we turn, in tandem with the ongoing work of justice, compassion and peace. Just like it is today.

May we be able and willing to begin again and again and again, as long as needed, for as long as we can. Stay with us! See you Sunday!

For all of us who wish so deeply that the world might soon become less chaotic, less confusing, more comfortable for us, the world itself is the answer. It is nothing but complexity – the intertwining of every living thing – the interbeing of everything. It is not just a game of winners and losers, of “sides,” unless we accept that the sides are infinite in number. In this enormous and mostly incomprehensible complexity, we are still given our breath every day. An invitation to be alive, to keep going.

A few years ago, as I considered the world the way it was then – so much seemed so horrifying – I shared this poem from Mark Nepo as a prayer to begin a day.

“Every day, we are challenged to love what we’re given as much as what we want. We don’t have to like the things we’re given, but we need to find a way to accept them. And love is the surest way to deepen our acceptance. And so, we must stay devoted to getting up one more time than we fall down. To waking up one more time than we fall asleep. To being sensitive one more time than we are blunt and cumbersome. To listen one more time than we speak. To hold one more time than we drop what we’re holding. To aspire to be clear one more time than we are confused. To open one more time than we close. And to lean into life one more time than we are pushed away.”

Once again, may this be a prayer for us. To love complexity, plurality, intricacy, to not reduce life to what we want, but to find contentment in being part of its complex wholeness. The invitation is as huge, and as present today as in any time in our lives so far. May we have the courage, the humility and the boldness to accept its gifts, and our breath, and let the best Life has to offer find its way to live through us. See you Sunday!

Just a few weeks left before the election, and the possibilities are mind-boggling. This is just a note to thank all of you who are working so hard to write letters, canvas voters, make phone calls, and everything else you can do to help aim for a good outcome. All are necessary, and we will see.

We are making plans for election week gatherings beginning with Tuesday night Nov. 5 and continuing with day-time and evening gatherings through Friday night Nov. 8. If you are able and willing to host a shift of a few hours Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, please let me know. Members of the Fellowship Care and Support Team, Committee on Ministry and Board of Directors will be helping out as well.

Thanks! Rev. Jill McA

On any given day, in the middle of a usual week, especially when we’re frustrated or afraid, or sad or bored, or just tired, it’s easy to think “why bother?” Why take the time and make the space for practice – to pause, to pray, to be present, to give thanks? From ancient times this has been a human dilemma, this tendency to ignore, give up, by-pass or simply lose the needed motivation and discipline. The mind can justify almost anything.

And, every now and then, if we are lucky or paying attention (sometimes both are needed), an opening arises in our lives which offers new ways of seeing and understanding ourselves and the world. Every now and then, we are called by truth to come a little further on our way. Practice is not a guarantee, but there’s no question that it makes opening and insight possible. ‘Who Am I in relation to myself, others and the world?’ is mostly empty rhetoric and speculation without practice.

Wherever you are, pause to breathe in – gently and deep. Exhale as much tension as you can. Exhale sadness. Breathe into your frustration, and tiredness– let them know that you recognize them – exhale gently without judgement. Breathe in to your worries and help them ease as you exhale. For all that is present in you and with you, with your hands together over your heart, offer the prayer of compassion: “May you be free from fear, may you be safe, may you be happy. May you be healthy and whole, may you be at ease and know peace.” Then offer the prayer for others as well.

Amidst everything – the beautiful and the heart-wrenching – breathe the breath of life and give thanks for the journey. Give thanks for your practice and another day given, and begin again, in love.

Sending love to you all – Jill

One of my teachers says, in many different ways, that spiritual growth, or becoming wise, is a process of discovering, at your core, a story that can hold all the other stories. A foundation that makes room for everything that comes your way, for everything that is. In that place, that story, vulnerability and courage are the same thing. Courage is not simply the energy or power to defend our expectations or habits or “knowledge.” Courage is the ability to keep the doors of our minds and hearts open, to change direction, to leave things behind and keep moving, even – or especially – if we are mourning as we go.

“What would it be like to wake into our bodies, our relationships and our work as if seeing them for the first time?”, the teacher asks. Yesterday there was sorrow and joy; today there is sorrow and joy – but today we are not the same as we were yesterday. Nothing is the same.

This is a good daily practice – to find ways and time to open ourselves and our stories to the way things truly are. To be willing to be lived by pain and sorrow and fear in all the ways we are willing to be lived by happiness and love and joy. To move as life moves, in us and around us.

Did you have a chance to see the Harvest Moon this week, as it rises on the eastern horizon huge, and orange, in the dark sky? These are the days of the Fall equinox – the trees beginning to turn, the air cooling, days of rain and sun, clouds and color. Changing times, again, as always. Always a chance to begin again.

Here are some centering thoughts about the Fall Equinox, adapted from UU Lori Gorgas Hlaban:

“Pause. Balanced in the center between the longest and shortest days. Equinox. The wheel of the year turns, and turns again. The air cools, days shorten…

This is our opportunity, now, to pause. Balanced, breathing in, breathing out, knowing this present moment. This present moment is all we’re guaranteed. Like the sun moving toward the shortest day, each moment arises—and is gone before we know it…

This is the time to pause, and consider. As we enter the season of contemplation, of increasing darkness, of lying fallow, of dormancy. This is the season of letting go, of lightening burdens, of preparing for the long period of being still, going deep…

Today we mark the midpoint between Summer and Winter Solstice, a time to seek balance and be free. Blessed Be. Amen.”

One of the most beautiful things about morning, about waking up, is that the conversation begins anew. What I mean is we can begin a new conversation with life every day. It’s quite easy to wake up and simply continue yesterday’s conversation, tired and worn out though it was when we went to sleep. Why be dragged down by yesterday’s attempts to get everything right (did we?) when we can begin again today in a new way, with a chance to move around what got in our way yesterday?

The point of the conversation remains the same, I think. We are here to learn. We are here to learn to love – which means to live with compassion, respect and justice. Which means to live in harmony with all other life. Which means to outgrow self-centeredness, and fear, which means to recognize our own woundedness and brokenness, which means to feel the life of our bodies and all other bodies, and so much more. Every day is a new beginning, bringing challenges and possibilities. We can begrudge and judge the day, the years, the life we’ve been given – that’s not hard. Or we can accept the gift of being welcomed into each and every day. Once again, a new day is waiting to welcome you. May you feel the breath which is given and, with gratitude, enter in.