How to give thanks

It's been at least two years since I first ran into the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address in Robin Wall Kimmerer's wonderful book, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Milkweed Editions 2013, ISBN978-1-57131-356-0). The Thanksgiving Address is a wonderful expression of gratitude for all created beings in our world, a deep wisdom that is frequently voiced by Indigenous communities. 

The Thanksgiving Address is made up of the Words Before All Else -- which means that nothing should be said to start a day or a meeting of people or any kind of community event until we "join our minds as one" and give thanks for all that we have received. This little video explains it quite beautifully.

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude lately, and -- no surprise -- after a period of having forgotten about it, I find that the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address has reappeared in my life all over the place in just the last few days. Just in the nick of time, as we head into the biggest season of consumption. I know better than to think it's just coincidence. 

If you have not heard of the Thanksgiving Address yet, here's a link to a beautiful website that shares it just a small piece at a time, with gorgeous art to accompany the words. I invite you to savour the Words Before All Else at whatever part of the day in which you find yourself right now, and realize the many gifts we have received, and that really, most of us are fortunate enough that we don't need to go out and buy more stuff.

All the gifts we have freely received are enough -- and they are no coincidence, either.

Morning meditation: God's abundant, sun-kissed beauty

And breakfast as a bonus!

 

A video worth sharing

 How I love this One. One by Birdtalker... Enjoy!

Co-gardeners with God

As I did my daily Tai chi in the back yard this morning, I marveled at beauty. Bees buzzing in flowers, robins singing on high, dew on the grass. I found myself thinking about how, in so many cultures of the world, the history of humanity begins in a garden, where humans and God connect.

And I couldn't help but think: if, as a species, we could somehow find our way back to our earth's continuous regeneration in nature, with fewer huge corporations of concrete and steel and smaller, more simple physical labour in harmony with creation, could we dial back climate change, pollution, and disease so that we could live in appreciation of the great beauties that surround us?

God, help us to return to your garden, somehow.

Sunday Reflection on a Monday: A gardener God

Today's reflection brought to you by
Ezekiel 17:22-24.

We are your creation,
O God,
and you are the Master Gardener.

Starting noble cedars from tender sprigs
is only one of your specialties.

Making mustard seeds flourish
is not impossible for you.

In this season of sunshine,
rain,
and growth,
it's so easy to take life for granted.

But none of it,
none of us,
exist without you.

As Master Gardener,
you tend to our care unobtrusively.

Most of the time,
we don't even notice your ministrations.

But the pruning of our egos can be painful.

When you call us to let go of our certainties
and become open to new ideas and new life,
our lives expand
and our meagre minds stretch
in directions we never expected.

Ouch!

We do not go willingly into any kind of pruning or suffering,
so you sent Jesus to show us how.

Thank you,
Master Gardener,
for your wonderful creation,
and for creating us.

Help us to humbly accept
our prunings and replantings
so that we tender sprigs may become
your noble cedars.

+Amen.

A weekend in God's creation

No time to moodle this weekend... I spent all my time enjoying God's creation. But I'll leave you this picture of a piece of rainbow over a partially frozen Pigeon Lake.

The Lord is my shepherd,
my heart's true home,
the one who thaws my anger
and fills me with peace.
God's goodness and kindness surround me with light, and I know that we are never alone.

A walk across the Coyote Bridge

Shadow-dog and I have been walking Suzanna to work lately. We've discovered a 45 minute route through quiet neighbourhoods and ravines that takes us by way of the Coyote Bridge. I call it that because two winters ago, I was walking alone through the park toward the bridge and found a coyote watching me from a distance. I felt quite unnerved by its steady gaze, but my blood sugars were low and going around the ravine was out of the question. I pushed ahead, and the animal disappeared into the bushes, but I had to sing loudly until I got through the ravine and across the bridge, just to keep up my courage! I didn't see the coyote again, but it felt like I was being watched...

Friends of ours live near the Coyote Bridge and had wildlife officers visit to tell them to keep an eye out for a coyote and her pups, whose den was just down the ravine outside their backyard fence at the time. I suspect the one who was watching me that day last January was one of those pups all grown up.

Anyway, the Coyote Bridge is a gorgeous spot, a tiny example of the glory of God's creation (which I'm thinking a lot about as I finish reading Pope Francis' encyclical on Care for Our Common Home). There's just a small trickle of creek in a bed which is often dry unless it's been raining. Except for the traffic noise that comes from Gretzky Drive, I'd think I was walking an old wilderness trail. A coyote path.

Today's 15 minute post is my way of remembering this summer, and my walks to work with Suzanna. Precious time, in gorgeous surroundings.

Flowers for a Sunday

My front yard is starting to pop... flowers all over the place! My philosophy this season of dizziness is -- if it's not a weed, it might as well bloom where God planted it! Even if you're not a gardener, here's something amazing... that makes me wonder at our Creator and all his/her marvels, even the ones we don't think of as having souls! Could we be wrong about that?