July 22, 2009
Wednesday am in Spoleto, Italy: A Typical Umbrian Serenades morning.
The fresh air this morning was positively heavenly. Clean and sunny and calm. I’m just taking a moment to celebrate this wonderful gift. Is there anything more holy than breathing?
It’s just closing in on 10 am, Spoleto time, which I think I will now just call ST or Saint Time. We’ve been up a few hours going through what has become the morning routine. It goes something like this.
Conie’s blackberry alarm goes off. Julie jumps out of her skin then plops back down. Conie just rolls and turns it off. More sleeping. WE repeat this 5 minutes later and this time I get up. Sometime between 7 and 8 am ST we make our way down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Umbrian Serenades always monopolizes one of the large tables. Sleepily the members of the group wander in, grab a cup of coffee and find their spot. Breakfast is consistently the same…cheese, bologna, croissant, sweet breads, cantaloupe, yogurt, and granola. Not long after we get there the swarm of “gymgnats” arrive. They move as one to the buffet and sit as one at the tables. IT is important not to try and get food when they are there. Fortunately for us, they do not stay long, ever. These are a group of 30 or so national gymnasts competing for spots on the Olympic team.
Also on the menu at breakfast is laughter and talking about the feast of food and friends we have had the night before. This particular morning Alison coined the term “gymgnats” and I think it will stick. Up til now, we’ve just been calling them the swarm. They bring to mind images of the Borg, if you are a Star Trek fan. After breakfast the choir wanders away to practice for the 3 hours until lunch break. The companions or non-choir members of the group often gather on the “sun porch” for more coffee and catching up on their computing. There are 5 of us. Sometimes we are called the “non-singers” which is a mis-nomre since we can all sing. We just didn’t try out for the choir. The lesson is a good one as it brings up memories when I have labeled people non-something…always a bad idea for including people is to name them non-something.
Anyway, this is how I wish mornings always could be. Laughter, celebrations, and pondering the day with friends as crazy as I am. These are the ingredients for peaceful life. Hmmm. Maybe the world just needs to take better care of breakfast. Mabye then, this would be a more peaceful planet.
Wishing you all joy and peace this fine July day and everyday.
Love you and like you world,
jules
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Sacred Forest
Deep in the dark, sacred woods shadows play with blue faries
The canopy of ancient trees protects this holy ground
For centuries these oaks have been holding up the sky
Guardians of God’s natural monastery
Companions for many a pilgrim coming to understand the mystery of love
Yearning for connection to the deep heart in this enlightened place.
Angels and birds dance together under this umbrella of holiness
Those whose feet cross into this holy place
Find themselves called back to center, called to delicious rainbows of energy from their hearts.
Those who enter this dark forest leave with new light in their souls.
The canopy of ancient trees protects this holy ground
For centuries these oaks have been holding up the sky
Guardians of God’s natural monastery
Companions for many a pilgrim coming to understand the mystery of love
Yearning for connection to the deep heart in this enlightened place.
Angels and birds dance together under this umbrella of holiness
Those whose feet cross into this holy place
Find themselves called back to center, called to delicious rainbows of energy from their hearts.
Those who enter this dark forest leave with new light in their souls.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Chaos, Order and Community in Spoleto, Italy
An ancient hill of stone
Built on a foundation of history
Chaos and community
A swarm of young ballerinas
Flies through the dining room
Like a flock of crows
Scavenging a picnic site.
There is no order but they move as one
Notes and lines on a page
Scattered like the gravel pattern in the stone walls of this church
Trained voices turn this mess into Beautiful harmony
Lines of east and west cannot be drawn here
People standing in line cannot be found
Time resists linear movement
This is a organic place where buildings have withstood
Earthquakes, wars and time
By hanging on to each other
Both buildings and people have longevity
By allowing relationship to be more important
Than straight lines and order
Voices create harmony
Ancient frescoes cling to church walls
As the clusters of homes cling to the hillside
While the community continues to survive
By hanging on to each other in whatever order they can.
Built on a foundation of history
Chaos and community
A swarm of young ballerinas
Flies through the dining room
Like a flock of crows
Scavenging a picnic site.
There is no order but they move as one
Notes and lines on a page
Scattered like the gravel pattern in the stone walls of this church
Trained voices turn this mess into Beautiful harmony
Lines of east and west cannot be drawn here
People standing in line cannot be found
Time resists linear movement
This is a organic place where buildings have withstood
Earthquakes, wars and time
By hanging on to each other
Both buildings and people have longevity
By allowing relationship to be more important
Than straight lines and order
Voices create harmony
Ancient frescoes cling to church walls
As the clusters of homes cling to the hillside
While the community continues to survive
By hanging on to each other in whatever order they can.
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