29 may 11 wild quaker

I was probably the only Quaker in the world who crossed a salmon stream and encountered moose and wild rabbits on my way to Meeting for Worship on Sunday morning.

19-21 nov 10 pennsylvania color

A week before Thanksgiving I flew back East. My first stop was the Philadelphia area to attend a workshop at Pendle Hill, a Quaker center. Clerking is a form of facilitation that is part of the Quaker decision making process. I've wanted to take this workshop for two years to not only become more effective at our Anchorage Quaker Meeting but also in my work, where I facilitate a lot of meetings. Wouldn't it be nice to feel centered, confident, and joyful in all of those meetings?

I left a gray/brown and white world in Anchorage. We already had more than a foot of snow on the ground at home. In Pennsylvania, fall hadn't quite ended. I felt like I'd stepped back in time. The Pendle Hill campus is about 23 acres and I circled it daily on the perimeter trail, basking in the glow of the remaining leaves on the gingko and maple trees.

The trees that brought me to a halt were the Japanese maples. I collected a dozen flaming leaves over the weekend and scattered them on the desk in my room. I even enclosed a few in a card home to Paul. There is nothing like this in the Alaska fall scene. After the workshop ended on Sunday, I walked to the Swarthmore Campus in the next village over. From the train* I had noticed a large woods next to campus and Pendle Hill provided trail maps. I walked along Crum Creek, dodging wet labrador retrievers and runners. I crossed under the railroad bridge and toured the holly collection of Scott Arboretum. Then I walked through the campus, which reminded me of my alma mater Cornell. When I noticed that the sun was getting low, I headed back into the woods for a last quiet evening at Pendle Hill.


*if I'd taken any train photos, I'd post an entry about how wonderful it was to use real public transportation (something else we don't have in Alaska). Amtrak took me north to Utica, NY, to spend Thanksgiving with family.

24 mar 2010 peace testimony

It's been one of those weeks with a convergence of work and volunteer commitments. The volunteer stuff leads to fun though ... kicking off our women's mountain biking club season, planning a Quaker retreat in Talkeetna, and supporting the Great Land Trust as it helps protect important places in south-central Alaska. I can't say that my job duties this week -- annual budgeting, proposal writing, and attending an assembly meeting -- are fun. On top of being sick this last weekend (which means sitting around looking at how dirty the house is), life seems a little too fast and messy. This is one of those weeks when it's tempting to just hunker down until things slow down.

Despite my inclinations, I didn't do that this evening. I decided to leave duties aside and join some other Quakers to discuss our faith's peace testimony. I could say I was supporting the Friend that has been organizing these talks, but really I was hoping for an evening where I could put all tasks and responsibilities out of mind. The evening was a chance to examine my own attempts at peace in my life and an inspiration to hear how others have approached much tougher situations. Three men were of draft age near the end of the Vietnam war. They took different paths of conscientious objection, illustrating that each of us has to follow our convictions in our own.

I'm glad I didn't stay home to do laundry, write emails, or type up minutes. Sometimes a serious discussion is an escape from ordinary life.

8 jun 09 trying to be present

A man at Quaker Meeting last week spoke out of the silence to just what I'd been trying to do for 30 minutes (until I'd totally forgotten and had acquiesced to the "chattering ladies in the attic.") He told of standing by a flowing creek one day with his mind full of thoughts and concerns. After some time, he realized that he couldn't hear the creek over his thoughts. He decided the creek sounded better than his racing thoughts and sat down to listen to it instead. I'd been struggling to quiet my mind and be present where I sat, to listen to the ambient sounds, whether they be the cars on Tudor Road or the breathing of Friends.

I've especially been trying to be more present with the outdoors these past few weeks. Somewhere I read that having a dog should help you be more present in the moment; the dog certainly is. So I've taken that as a reminder to get back to one of the core principles of Buddhism and Quakerism. Our walks aren't exactly meditation but I'm trying to pay more attention to the birds, the emerging spring, and the motion on the other end of the leash and to keep my mind from thinking about what's next on the agenda.

On Sunday Bhikkhu and I walked out to Powerline Pass from Glen Alps trailhead. I've been hoping for a clear morning to introduce him to the high country and to see the higher elevations emerging from winter. I tried to notice and name every plant to keep my mind where my body was ... lupines, white geraniums, false hellebore, alders, hemlocks. The sun and the scenery kept me thinking about how blessed I was to be in this place at this time; I hardly thought about the afternoon ahead or the work week to come.

So if I can keep my thoughts under control for a few minutes of sitting or strolling in the sunshine, can I do it while moving a little faster? A local bicycling blogger wrote last week about tuning out the brain and how mountain biking can be a form of meditation. On Sunday afternoon Paul and I biked through Bicentennial Park and the Campbell Tract to get me to Meeting. As we descended on Brown Bear, a steep, rooty trail, I found myself thinking too much about what I should be doing. I remembered the post on 'meditative biking' and settled into the bike. I started relaxing more and was half way down the slope that I usually pause at the top of before I even realized what I was doing. I managed to keep my brain in the background for most of rest of the ride and felt like I was flowing down stream along the various winding trails through the woods and along the creeks.

21 apr 09 bicycle commuter

the commuter bike, in front of the snow berm at the end of the driveway;

the ash line is still below the surface

I didn't really make any resolutions this year, but one of my hopes is to commute via bike more. To kick that off, I pedaled to my favorite bike shop this past Friday and bought fenders for my touring bike and a new sonorous bell for the bike paths. The fenders are to eliminate the need for rain pants whenever it's the least wet, especially if I'm wearing street clothes while riding. The bell was because the spring on my old bell was loose and I felt like the ice cream truck all the way to the shop. I'll ride my mountain bike sometimes, especially when I've got the option for a long ride home through the park, but my 1991 Miyata 600 GT will be the main commuter.

Spending money often motivates me because I hate to waste money. Thus the fender purchase. Another thing that can motivate me is keeping records and seeing what I've accomplished. So I zeroed out my bike computer and put in a new battery to make sure it would get through another year. The odometer read 962.8, but I'm not sure when I last replaced the battery. I bought this computer almost exactly 3 years ago when I lost the back off the old one the evening before the Gold Nugget triathlon (I just pedaled hard and hoped I was hitting my pace.)

I have two vague goals : "bike commute more" and "get in shape." Paul and I usually drive to work together because our offices are within a mile of each other. Paul doesn't like to bike to work (messes up his hair and he gets sweaty). So if I ride in alone, it doesn't reduce our carbon footprint but it could reduce my waistline. I'll only reduce our fossil fuel dependence if he isn't going to work one day or if I can convince him to bike in with me. During the summer and fall we usually bike home at least one evening a week and get creative about retrieving the extra vehicles downtown (movies at the museum on Sunday evenings, Saturday market).

This Sunday Paul pedaled to Quaker Meeting with me in the afternoon. The creek paths are still slushy so we toured the neighborhoods east of Lake Otis as much as possible to get down to Tudor. On Monday morning I rode to work. Assuming Chester Creek is not very rideable yet on my touring bike, I took the opportunity to tour Fairview to make my way downtown. Paul served as sag wagon and carted my clothes, food for the week, and homework to my office.

This evening Paul and I rode home together. My odometer already reads 48 miles after just 5 days. It's a beginning to what I hope will be many happy hours commuting to work, Friends, and errands.

22 dec 08 Buddhist Birthday (revisited)

If we were going to spend a month in two predominantly Buddhist countries, I thought I might attempt to understand the local religion and maintain some sort of spiritual practice during our trip. I read Peace is Every Step by Thich Naht Hanh several years ago and re-read it sometime in the last few years when the non-peaceful 'diplomacy' of our country was becoming personally unbearable. Last summer I studied a small pamphlet, The Mindful Quaker by Valerie Brown, for an introduction to Buddhism from a fellow Quaker. For this Southeast Asia sojourn, I brought Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Naht Hanh along in the hopes of learning about Buddhism and bringing some new perspective to my own religious tradition.

My birthday fell on a laid-back travel day in Luang Prabang in Laos, designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site for its many Buddhist temples and pagodas. We were with four friends, two couples, from Talkeetna. The guys had signed up for an all-day cooking class; we women planned to relax, take care of some travel logistics, eat a fabulous lunch, and get a massage. I slept late so had the guest house dining room table to myself for morning coffee. That's when I read the introduction to Living Buddha, Living Christ. I met the rest of the group at a restaurant nearby on the Mekong River for breakfast and then had the rest of the morning to myself. I found a large rock under a tree on the Royal Palace grounds -- a quiet spot for meditation, reading, and reflection.

Thich Naht Hanh's openness to understanding Christianity helped me to be open to absorbing Buddhist principles. He drew parallels between the life of Buddha and the life of Jesus; this reminded me of what draws me to Quakerism. Jesus was fully open to the Light of God, similar to Siddharta's achievement of enlightenment. Jesus used that Divine guidance to determine how he led his life and how he treated others. For me, religion should be about how we live our lives on Earth, not about some reward in the next life. Buddhist precepts, principles, and practices could help me be more open to the Light, bring me closer to nirvana, and transform me into the person I'd like to be.

The Laos people and the beautiful city of Luang Prabang embodied many of the lessons that TNH wrote about -- generosity, loving-kindness, mindfulness. We rose early several mornings to watch the monks walk through town to receive food from the faithful. The giving touched me more than the receiving, which was done humbly and silently. The local Buddhists provide all the food that the monks eat. Should they sleep late one day, some monks would have less rice that day. Would there be hunger in this world if we all felt such responsibility to ensure that our neighbors were fed each and every day?

The Laos people are often called laid-back (I used the term myself in emails from the road), but that description ignores the spiritual foundation that enables these people to be so warm, welcoming, and peaceful despite a very tumultuous recent history. Paul summarized Buddhism as "Suffering happens. Be happy." I'm hoping that accepting more of Life with that thought can help me continue on my spiritual sojourn and that my 43rd birthday is the start of a more enlightening year.

I'm working my way through the 1200 photos I took in Laos and Vietnam. I'll be posting them on my Picasa site by theme and location as I go.

** Click here to see photos of Luang Prabang **

30 November 2008 Gratitude

At Quaker Meeting for Worship today, someone else said what I've been thinking all day: "This is the kind of day when I'm really thankful to live in Alaska." We received over a foot of snow here in Anchorage since Thanksgiving day. Some would say this is Alaska, especially the "big city" of Anchorage, at its most beautiful.

Our snow actitivies today were mostly moving the white stuff around our property. We skied and snowshoed the last three days in Talkeetna, so today we were both content to shovel, snow blow, split and haul firewood, feed the birds, and photograph the back yard.

Mentioning those activities reminds me of some other things I'm thankful for -- a talented husband and skilled friend who recently installed the woodstove that has become my new "pet" (constant feeding and tending); a healthy household budget that means we don't have to think too hard about buying food and stuff; great friends who are family on holidays like Thanksgiving; and good health to be able to enjoy this great state.

I hope that you feel blessed this Thanksgiving, too.