Why Georgia ~ John Mayer

I am driving up 85 in the
kind of morning that lasts all afternoon
just stuck inside the gloom

Four more exits to my apartment but
I am tempted to keep the car in drive
and leave it all behind

Cause I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life

Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, why Georgia, why?

I rent a room and I fill the spaces with
wood in places to make it feel like home
but all I feel's alone
It might be a quarter life crisis
or just the stirring in my soul

Either way, I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life

Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, why Georgia, why?

So what, so I've got a smile on me
but it's hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
Don't believe me
Don't believe me
When I say I've got it down

Everybody is just a stranger but
that's the danger in going my own way
I guess it's the price I have to pay
still "Everything happens for a reason"
is no reason not to ask myself

If I'm living it right
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, tell me why
Why, why Georgia why?

Words~ Dana Gioia

The world does not need words. It articulates itself
in sunlight, leaves, and shadows. The stones on the path
are no less real for lying uncatalogued and uncounted.
The fluent leaves speak only the dialect of pure being.
The kiss is still fully itself though no words were spoken.

And one word transforms it into something less or other—
illicit, chaste, perfunctory, conjugal, covert.
Even calling it a kiss betrays the fluster of hands
glancing the skin or gripping a shoulder, the slow
arching of neck or knee, the silent touching of tongues.

Yet the stones remain less real to those who cannot
name them, or read the mute syllables graven in silica.
To see a red stone is less than seeing it as jasper—
metamorphic quartz, cousin to the flint the Kiowa
carved as arrowheads. To name is to know and remember.

The sunlight needs no praise piercing the rainclouds,
painting the rocks and leaves with light, then dissolving
each lucent droplet back into the clouds that engendered it.
The daylight needs no praise, and so we praise it always—
greater than ourselves and all the airy words we summon.

Praise Song for the Day

Praise song for the day.

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."

Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

Naturally...

There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning glories, and white and red clover,
and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs and the sow's pink-faint litter,
and the mare's foal and the cow's calf...

-Walt Whitman


I like to play indoors better 'cause that's where all the electrical outlets are.

-A Fourth-Grader in San Diego


I'm convinced that everyone must read this book! With changing times, our children (and all of us really) are much less connected with nature in a deep and personal way. Reflecting on the importance of nature in my own childhood, I believe we owe it to our children and ourselves to rekindle our intimacy with our natural environment.

Natural Places that were Meaningful to Me as a Child (and now!):

Royersford:
~Victory Park
~Valley Forge Park
~The Caldesac
~School Playgrounds- fields of various kinds
~COB Yards
~Elmwood Park Zoo
~Sara the Bear
~Climbing trees in my yard
~Dad's garden
~Schuykill River
~Runs (from Winter Track)
~Blanche's Hill
~Mr. Goodrich's field
~Riding bikes everywhere!

Camps:
~Camp Susquehannock- the lake, the animals, the woods
~Camp Swatara- the rock pile, the Appalachian Trail, the lake, the pine forest, the tree house, the outdoor sanctuary, the campfires
~Gettysburg- the old Duncar meeting house, the rolling hills

Ocean City, NJ:
~the beach- walks, playing in the sand, playing games- whiffle ball, paddle ball, pickle
~the boardwalk- walks, runs, riding bikes, people watching
~the ocean- swimming, jumping waves, boogie boarding, skimming, playing

Vacations
~Trip across country: many National Parks- Yosemite, Yellowstone, Sequoias, Petrified Forest
~Alaska- Denali, touching a glacier, grizzlies up close and personal
~Guatemala- Lake Atitlan, emerald fields, coati and monkeys and quetzales
~DR- brilliant greens, Campamento de los Jovenes, plantations
~PEI- red cliffs, singing sand, beautiful dirt paths, red roads, quaint towns, quiet beaches

Places I've Lived:
~Juniata- the cliffs, the Peace Chapel, the campus, Blair Park, Rails to Trails, "the mountian", Goat's Path, the rope swing, Raystown Lake
~Harrisburg- the river, Allison Hill, downtown
~Mexico- marigold fields before Dia de los Muertos, El gran piramide, Pico de Orizaba, 500 escalones, the beaches, the Alameda, los Portales
~Boston- Gardens, Commons, Davis Square, many lovely campuses for strolling, Mystic Lake, the dog park, Gould Farm
~Brazil- Running up to the Cristo, the orchards, the waterfalls, Pao de Acucar, fruit trees, humming birds
~Lancaster- Market, playing in the snow with excited Burmese and Somali kids, F&M fields, farms, running to Lititz


Such a beautifully rich childhood spent outside in and with nature! I for one hope that my children and my children's children and my children's children's children may learn to value nature, of which we are all a part. May we learn to live a little more this way.

What I'm Not Saying

It's what I'm not saying

That makes the most sound.

Though my lips do not move,

And your ears do not pound.

My heart sings a song,

And the lyrics resound,

"Listen to what I'm not saying,

For therein truth abounds."

~from the heart of Katherine Annette O'Donnell

The Best Christmas Present Ever!

My Refrigerator Decorator!

In church, I usually feel that I am given so much by the community of believers, the lesson, the scriptures, the word, the music, the communion with God. But today, I was given a special gift by a very special friend... Karen. She drew a picture of myself and her, a heart, a cross, and a dove... and she wrote both of our names. The gift was even enclosed in a lovely little envelope. But, it's just too beautiful to keep there. I know just what to do with that heartfelt artwork. It's going right on my refrigerator!

Mom, I was wondering if you could remind me what I was like as a child...

As I remember, you were an avid reader who loved to share what you had learned from books or stories or poetry.

You were always thoughtful before speaking- never would you blurt answers or ideas before taking time to consider all angles / situations / people, etc.

You have always been soft spoken person and an extremely good listener to friends, family and even to those who you recently met.

You enjoyed games- board games, not the computer or video games. You liked playing the board games as a family group with no other interference- no phones, tv or music. It was time to specifically play the board games - or even to build the wooden block structures. You did not like to confuse the game time or build time or bake time.

Just like on your dinner plate--the potatoes, the veggie, the meat / fish and then the other veggie. Sometimes rolls or bread or croissants were introduced to your mouth while on one type of food- but, rarely. You enjoyed the meal time with talk of the day, family, school, etc. Again, you would never want music or external noises to interfere with the special family meal time.

Many times on Sundays you would want to share about the Sunday School lesson.

You liked to hear stories of your grandparents and uncles and their families.

You did not want frills- you loved common everyday items- from food to clothing to games to movies. You NEVER made a Christmas List. You would always respond with the answer "SURPRISES" when asked what you wanted for Christmas or your birthday.

You were deliberate about beginning your homework asap. You enjoyed the bonus of time to do free reading when all work was done and there was time to spare.

You loved learning to play the piano and to sing in the church choir, as well.

You have always been a friend to be trusted. Your closest friends are probably those who have recognized your trust and loyalty and have reciprocated the same to you.

You have always enjoyed food preparation. You have especially enjoyed making foods and giving them to others as a part of your generous heart.

You had unique "likes"...blueberry muffins without the blueberries, for example. (I guess it was your first tendency to create your own recipes from recipes known as common to others.)

You loved listening to Baba talk about her life, her home and her family. It was the same with Aunt Helen. And, both of them knew how sincere you were about asking them about their lives. Sincerity is a characteristic in you that is clear to anyone who spends time talking with you or watching you live and seeing the choices you make and have made.

You are a gentle hearted person. I remember the Spring City Pool swim teacher telling me how gentle a lady you were as a little girl. And, she loved that about you- it drew her into wanting to teach you to swim well.

You were silly about silly things. You giggled when laughs were appropriate and your laughs and giggles were contagious to others.

You never talked badly of anyone and seemed always uncomfortable if you felt someone was being treated unfairly.

You shared toys. You were a peace maker when the competitive spirit reached others. You were "the fair one." If competition became the reason for the game, it was over for you. You played games and with toys for the fun of it.

In sports, you enjoyed the games but never at the expense of making others feel badly or less than they should be- individual sports seemed better as each competed with their own times, skills.

You loved preparing for school presentations- from speeches to posters to computer demonstrations. You worked fervently to do your best and knew the feeling of "a job well done." But, you never boasted nor claimed victory - your work was best seen on your face when you were pleased with what you had accomplished.

Your teachers enjoyed you in their classrooms. You were recognized as a mature young person with a keen sense of right and wrong and a sincere desire to do well in school.

You always made your bed. You always took care of your clothing- properly hanging the clothes and setting them out for the next day of school. You liked being in your own bedroom as much as you liked being in the family room- but it was clear that you needed both spaces and enjoyed both spaces.

You liked crafts and hands on stuff. Seekers crafts were always fun as were the camp crafts at Swatara and Susquehannock.

I really love you and I am so happy knowing that you love me, too.

mom

**Inspiration for this reflection upon my childhood was inspired by Parker J. Palmer's book A Hidden Wholeness. On a journey toward living a less divided life, Palmer suggests looking back to our childhood for our natural born gifts. He notes that as we grow older, we fear vulnerability and attempt to please others which often leads to hiding these gifts.