Kitten Little

Last night we awoke to the next door neighbor's dog barking madly - which was highly unusual because he's normally very quiet. His barking set Simon barking, and after about 20 minutes of nonstop cacophony, Andy decided to go out and investigate just in case something was wrong (our neighbor was hurt, Buddy was stuck in the fence, someone was lurking outside, etc.).

Andy went down and quickly came back in, telling me that Buddy was barking at a very wee stray kitten and he wasn't sure what to do. I grabbed a towel and we headed back outside. There crouched between the tree and the fence was a wee, grey, impossibly tiny kitten who was hissing and growling with all her might, trying to look fierce and dangerous.

With Donna's help, we got the kitten out of the yard and Buddy safely inside, and the kitty then darted under the cars in our driveway (scared out of her mind and extremely wary of the two huge creatures talking to her in musical voices, refusing to leave her alone).

We decided to put out a small bit of milk (a very small bit because I know it's not so good for kitties), some water, and a bit of food to see if she might eat a bit. She timidly ventured forward and drank some milk before disappearing back under the far end of the car.

Thinking she might eat more if we were absent, we left a folded towel for her to sleep on and headed back inside to get some rest ourselves, as by this time it was midnight.

Of course, in the morning she was gone, and although I bought some actual kitty food today in the hopes she might return, there has been no sign of her tonight.

Even though we could not have kept her (Simon would freak out, and Andy is severely allergic), we felt very responsible for her and desperately wanted to find a way to keep her safe, fed, and cared for. We were hoping to get her feeling comfortable enough with us to help find her a good home, but she was probably so traumatized by her ordeal of being shouted at in doggy speak that it will be a while before she settles down.

I hope she's safe, wherever she might be, and that she is guided to a good home where she will be taken care of with love and kindness. May the next path she crosses lead her to safety.

Thoughts on Words (and words for thoughts)

I am praying for the people of Cuba.
I am praying for the people of New Orleans.
I am hoping the city stays safe, stays dry, stays livable
in the wake of yet another storm...
too close on the heels of the first.

I read an article today in the UUA magazine (UU World) written by UUA President, William Sinkford, entitled "Our Calling." There was a section of the article wherein he called on Unitarian Universalitsts to be as accepting of and open to Christian ideologies, rituals, beliefs, and semantics as UUs tend to be with religions such as Buddhism, Judaism, and Native American spirituality.

As someone who grew up in a very non-religious household and who tends to cringe when I hear the word "Jesus" invoked in prayer, I took his message to heart and have chewed on it, pondered over it, and let it roll around my gut for a good part of the day.

His point, or one of them, was that - at its core - one of the most important messages of Christianity (love they neighbor as thyself) is also a basic tenant within the convenent of the UU faith and its seven principles. The UU commitment to advocating for others, seeking justice and equity, respecting all people and honoring the divine and sacred in everyone around us is quite connected to the Christian concept of treating others as you would wish to be treated, honoring the "God" - the power, the oneness, the whateveryouwishtocallit - that connects and binds us all.

And so... no matter what words one might use, I imagine we all pray for the safety of those in the path of danger. Our blessings, compassion, and love are expressed in a multitude of ways - but within them is the common seed of acknowledged humanity and interconnection, and the fervent hope that no one may suffer needlessly.

For the in the celebration and protection of one, is the triumph and salvation of many.

Some days you get a tiny little gem and it makes everything clear for a brief, still moment...

Today Ari said, "I miss you Mommy" on the phone and then again when I got home. I tell her I miss her all the time, but suddenly is was as if we had a new understanding of one another and an even deeper way to communicate. We miss each other. We can say it, and talk about it, and giggle gleefully at our reunion, relieved the missing can be over for a little while.

I can't tell you entirely why it was such a momentous thing for me to hear. But it made my day... it helped me think - for a moment - we're going to be okay, we're going to make it through this. And that was a tremendous gift at the end of a long day and a trying week.

I am praying for those in the southeastern US and all those in the pathway of Gustav. I never know how to reconcile these moments of happiness when such sadness and tragedy are striking others. I wish I had the power to ensure everyone was going to be okay. That no one would bear injury or sorrow, experience loss or pain, face difficult choices, or feel helpless and frightened.

But then, that is sometimes the stuff of life. And in my own living, I can look back and see (almost always) how those things led to a greater sense of compassion, increased strength, more powerful resilience, or sharper wisdom. But it is all relative, and if I had a choice, I would cover each and every life with safety and peace, so that everyone could sleep soundly at night firm in the belief we will all be okay.

Still Dreaming...

I must admit I've gotten sucked into the coverage of the DNC convention in Denver. I blame my husband, who is a staunch and nearly-giddy Obama supporter... and a true political nut on top of it. (Hence, the creation of his brainchild, 43 Plays For 43 Presidents... which, oddly enough, is going to be produced at the Actors Theatre of Louisville next month.)

Anyway... I was so inspired and floored by Al Gore's speech tonight (and so surprised and miffed at the lack of conversation about it among the pundits covering the convention on CNN) that I had to make it today's joy.

Now, mind you, it is tempered with sadness (all over again) about the outcome of the 2000 election... and anger at how the results were bungled and, one might say, unfairly and somewhat questionably coerced to proclaim Bush the winner... along with a deep regret that this man - this brilliant, passionate, dedicated statesman - will never be our president. (And, by the way, for a stunning bit of deja vu, check out the details of the Tilden-Hayes contest.)

BUT... it was a stunning speech and it brought me great hope and happiness to hear it. I know some people think he's a crackpot, and some people think global warming is a fallacy, but I think the naysayers are in for a bumpy ride over the next 4-5 years or so. But hey - maybe I'm wrong. I certainly hope so.

All I can say is: Yay Gore! You rock my world. (And you rocked the house tonight.)

loss

On my way home from school today I heard a story on NPR about civilian casualities during a strike led by the U.S. in Afghanistan. Apparently, the U.N. believes there is evidence to support the strike killed at least 90 civilians, approximately 60 of whom were children.

The attack took place during a memorial service, and it seems that faulty intelligence led to the unfortunate decision to strike that particular spot at that particular moment.

What caught me and has hung around my heart since hearing the original story was the experience of one of the men from that area. He is a member of the Afghan police force and was out on duty at the time of attack. He came home to find all of his children and wife dead. And he is now planning to quit the police force, unsure what to do with himself, as he carries with him a scrap of the dress his daughter was wearing on the day she died.

I know such mistakes are not intentional on the part of our country or those serving in Afghanistan (or Iraq)... but I can also understand the despair, and rage, and urge to retaliate when so much is lost in a single, misguided act. How difficult it must be to find forgiveness; how hard not to vilify or cry out against.

It has always struck me how war necessitates dehumanization of the enemy... and yet, in its wake, we are inevitably inundated with the inhumanity of violence, the frailty of our humanness, and the frightening presence of our mortality.

Decoupage and the Modern Family

Andy and I were talking today about our current conundrum about where to live, what to do for work, how to make everything happen smoothly, where to raise Ari and what type of environment would be best for her, etc. We feel awash with possibilities and hard choices, and ultimately we have begun to realize how stuck we are because - ultimately - we do not know what it is we want. We have no clear sense of our priorities.

And... I am beginning to wonder if this essentially means we are unaware of how we believe we make meaning of our lives. Unclear on what gives us purpose and what we wish to create in the long term. Because, if we don't know those things, we have no idea what things to fight for and hold onto, versus what things we can compromise or throw away.

So. Here we are. Blessed in so many ways and lucky because there have been many good things that have happened over the last several years. But also feeling somewhat lost and still trying to determine our next several steps because we are unsure what to emphasize or focus on in our pursuit of both present and future.

I think we both have a belief that other people do no seem to struggle as much with this kind of angst or confusion. We look around and see people who don't vacillate as much; don't change their minds as often; don't seem to be as deeply sad or adrift; don't seem to worry about it or obsess over it as long.

But perhaps that is an illusion. Sometimes it's hard to know how much of your drama you are responsible for... and also whether or not you are writing a narrative for those around you that is simply not true.

I suppose fabrication can be a positive or negative thing. We can fabricate in a way that takes us further from the truth - further from authenticity or real-ness. Or we can fabricate in a way that is creative and productive... where we seem to will opportunities into being and fashion a life out of random events or happy luck.

Right now we're trying to figure out what it is we wish that final picture to look like. You'd think we'd have figured it out by now... but I suppose we are slow bloomers in some ways.

Poem for Boo-Bean

One little smile and
all the sorrows of
a bad day melt away,
dropping like juice
onto the couch
as little feet dance
in an excited homecoming.

Mommy mommy
(chanting happily)
and more kisses than
my heart can possibly
process... her face lit
up with absolute joy.
Be present; be here.

My little imp,
my circus star,
my silly little monkey:
You are a shining truth
in days of light and dark.
My path gratefully entwined
with yours forever.