The Story Midwife

Ah, Mayberry!

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To all my Big City Friends,

I simply must share some words from a recent open forum posting in our small-town newspaper, The Strawberry Point Press-Journal:

"I'm writing this to let the residents of Strawberry Point know that when you pay your electic/water bill, make sure your check is written for the exact amount. I mistakenly made out the cents amount on my check for fifty-nine cents instead of the sixty-nine cents, which it should have been. A couple of days later, I received a DELINQUENT NOTICE for the amount of TEN CENTS due. Now it cost the city thirty-nine cents to send me a bill for ten cents! Wouldn't it have been cheaper and make more sense to just add the ten cents to my next billing cycle?!! I realize that all of this is done by computer, but doesn't someone enter the information into the computer?

So I have learned to double check my checks and I plan to put my "delinquent notice" in a tatted frame and hang it on my wall. It will make an interesting conversation piece. (Oh, by the way, I did go to the City Hall and I paid my bill of ten cents and got a receipt that same day!!)

Yvonne E."

And there you have it, a little advice from Yvonne E.: "double check your checks" and have a sense of humor about the quirks in life. Oh, and I would add, proudly display these quirks in a "tatted frame" whenever possible.

Here's to you and hoping you can take the "quirkinesses" that come your way today in stride and with a good dose of humor!

Politics, Walking Trails, and more thoughts on Community

 

Tuesday night Richard and I sang at a Grassroots Democratic dinner in our county.  What fun!  Met lots of candidates, sat next to our Representative at dinner, and we got to sing all our favorite songs from The Beatles, The Everly Brothers, Simon and Garfunkle, The Indigo Girls, and some fun tunes from the 40s and 50s.  Even though I'm a very post-modern girl, I love that old music.  You?

The next night I attended a town meeting with the City Council.  Ugh. 

The short story:
Seven years ago a group of community-active individuals decided to pursue the idea of a bike trail that would connect us to the local State Park (folks from all over the country tell us they know of this park -- it's amazing) on one end, and the Mississippi River on the other.  Quite an undertaking, to say the least. But ever inspiring!  After getting the go-ahead from the City Council with the absolute admonition that the City would NOT contribute ONE DIME to the cause, the team spent the next seven years getting over a quarter of a million dollars to complete the project in three phases. Not one penny came from the City.  In the meantime, some political rifts have infiltrated the community.  And while no one can be absolutely certain that the rifts are connected to the ultimate decision on the trail project, it's certainly in the mix. Three of the five current council members have adamantly turned against the project and have decided to put and end to it.  And they did. 

On Wednesday evening over a hundred citizens of our fair town gathered in the community center gym to share concerns and hopes for the trail project. Only one person declared her absolute opposition to the trail. Most who had opposing remarks did so in the form of opposing additional taxes from their own pockets, and asked about liability and other logistical concerns.  Many, many individuals (myself included) rose amid applause to speak about the benefits of such a community addition and tourist attraction, their excitement and desire for the trail, and perhaps most pertinent -- a reminder that not one copper cent would come from the City budget.  All funds have come from donations and grants, and all additionally needed funds would come from the same sources. "Please! Just give us a chance!"

In the end, the vote was 3-2 in favor of "terminating the project and sending back all grant money."

Sigh.

I was shocked.  Not just at the ruling (which is unbelievable -- what rural town with a declining population of 1400 people turns down one-quarter of a million dollars? For anything?! The chance will likely never come again...), but at the strong, unkindly-spoken words of some of the council members.  To be sure it was a tense setting.  I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.  Yikes.

Now.
Where. Do. We. Go. From. Here?  How does a little community like ours move forward after such a loss?

I'm not sure.

When my husband was in seminary a few years ago one of his co-students said that politics is all about relationships.

In the last four days I've had two new-to-me experiences in city and state politics, and literally rubber shoulders with some amazing local politicians (some of whom I will tell you about later). Each time I feel this longing inside myself to Do Something. To join them.

I think it has something to do with relationship.

I've decided to write a letter to the city council as a whole. I need to voice my disappointment in their final decision, while cluing them to the fact that I will continue to explore ways to bring this to fruition - even with the return of the grants and donations. AND I need to address each council member and the mayor in a personal note: acknowledging their service, recognizing the difficult decision they needed to make, thanking them for making choices toward the betterment of our new sewer, the maintenance of the water tower, our gorgeous new downtown sidewalks, etc.

One member is especially important: my neighbor a few houses up the street who vehemently voted against the project as if his very life depended on it. Maybe it did. In my letter to him I wish to make a special note of thanks for his neighborly friendship and the warmness I feel knowing we can wave and make neighborly small talk as I pass by his house with my dog. I don't want that to change. (I don't want to be at odds with my neighbor, for heaven's sake.)

Then I'm going to start talking. Not in gossip or vindictiveness. I want to see if the folks in town know what they've lost. Do they even know the trail project existed? If so, do they know it got voted down? I broached the subject with Sammy's teachers this morning. One didn't know about the meeting, the other said this was the first she'd even heard anything about any trail at all.

Granted, I'm coming into this as the newbie on the block.  I've only been here for 2 years. Maybe it's a liability. Maybe it's just that sort of young, post-modern, excited energy that is needed right now.

Is it possible that simple community members can overturn a ruling?  Regroup and go again?  Educate the community?  Raise enough funds? 

Boy, I'd sure like your input.  What do you think?  What stories of hope can you tell me?  Any ideas on how to navigate the local political system?

And hey. If you're ever in town with your bike wishing you had a trail to get you to the state park, please write a letter or stop in at City Hall to express your desires.  I'll get you the address.

A Feather on the Breath of God

The Best Thing About Wind

The best thing about the wind
is the way it plays around. How wind
toys with the dust and drops it, waltzes shirts
hanging out to dry, so they dance,
like goofy scarecrow ghosts.

How it lifts the hems
of green things, high-fives the pineconed crowns
of spruce.

The wind is always switching,
dropping off, coming up, dying down.
We fall for it every time. . . .

For frivolous wind,
we open our windows, forgive
everything. We wait,
like lonesome candles,
for a spark from the wind
on its way somewhere else.

-- Susan Steger Welsh from Rafting on the Water Table

The wind is whipping through Strawberry Point today. Displaying its frivolity in laughing leaves, in dancing curtains, on the faces of relieved survivors of the weekend heat. It's like the whole town is taking a deep breath.

If someone interviewing me for a large, international magazine said I must declare in one word for their millions of readers the heart of my spiritual life I would offer the word Breath. (It's never happened, but who knows?) As one who practices sitting meditation the breath is my companion. Without deep inhalation and rationing the breath, every song I sing would fizzle out and fall flat. It's the breath that gives a singer her oomph.  Oojai breathing in yoga creates heat in the body, brings oxygen-rich blood to the internal organs and muscles, and provides focus in challenging asanas. As a spiritual director it has been my continual experience that most women would give almost anything to feel that they had a few more moments each day for a deep breath in solitude, for wider spaciousness and expansiveness in their lives.  When sitting with one in spiritual direction, my calling with a new client is often to simply remind her to breathe. As a retreat leader, worship leader, and maker of ritual and song this theme appears over and over again from within me and from those whom I serve. It's like we just can't get enough. Even my email address quietly proclaims this love and longing: BreathingSpaces.

To me, breath is the center point of the Sacred. I am ever breathing in the absolute essence of all that is Holy. I cannot escape it. Even when my mind is feeling anything but still and my heart is all a-flutter, my breath continues. It sustains me and gives me life. It does not come and go with my attention.  It is steadfast and constant.

Hildegard of Bingen, a kick-ass healer-singer-mystic woman ahead of her time, knew about breath. She likens us to a feather on the breath of God. Such a lovely image: our lives floating on the grace of God's sustaining wind. God: a singer singing her most passionate, most life-giving, most celebratory song. Us: the feathers dancing on the strains of her melody.

Oh, let us open our windows to this frivolous wind that blows where it will! Let us lift our hems a little higher to feel her breath caressing the tiny hairs of our skin. Let the curtains veiling our hearts flap, flap, flap and part to make way for the peace flags within to kick up their heels, high and rowdy and whipping in the breeze. Let us fall back into the breath of God and let our lives float in release and grace. Let us finally invite in forgiveness.

Let us, let us, let us.