Seasons Greetings

Robert's niece and friend wrote the following to me:

"May God rain down His favor on your journey and that opportunities, doors and windows all open at the divine right time."

Today I feel compelled to share this sentiment with all of you. It expresses my wish for all of you as you journey through this holiday season. The new year brings the promise of health and happiness, and a renewal of my blogging rights.



See you here in 2012!

Gratitude

Don reminds me that Thanksgiving is a "pilgrim" experience and I do believe he is correct. Of course, there were pilgrims on St. James Way long before American pilgrims set sail for the new world. I do see a commonality in their separate journeys and share with you today my own journey as a pilgrim. Having acknowledged the season, I must move to the gratitude part of today's posting. As we gathered around the Turkey in my house, our hands joined and we each took a turn at expressing gratitude. Tradition won out and we did not discuss politics, although football was certainly mentioned. Being in gratitude is a state of mind I try not to wonder far from these days since I have so much to be grateful for.
I hope all of you were able to reflect on your own place in this world and that you were able to find a thing or two to be grateful for.
Thankfully, preparations continue for my walk on The Way. My ticket is purchased and this week I found a pair of nearly purple hiking boots and for this I am certainly grateful. I listened to NPR today and heard the story of families struggling to improve their conditions in cities across America. The premise being that families acting together to encourage and support each other are more successful than the lone and lonely among us. I really believe that if a child or young adult really sees and believes that another human being of import in their lives, believes in them, they feel better about themselves and this leads to successful attainment of goals. It is not a handout they need, but a hand to hold as they and we stand around that Thanksgiving table.

Occupy my mind

Headlines give me pause in my day to day. I read and see the soaring costs of education and the evil twin of 9% unemployment. Visions of struggling students, including my own children's struggles to get an education that comes loaded with promise and debt; this is what "occupys" my head and heart. Another headline tells me there is a growing shortage of health care workers. The Obama administration is going to spend billions on innovative programs directed at fast tracking Americans into the health care field. Oh, but wait! Who can pay and how can every child benefit? So, let's not wait for the answers that may never come. The small contributions can help and my quest is not in vain if we can help someone get that education.
Bringing the thoughts that "occupy" my mind into the realm of possibility gives me hope for the future.

11-11-11

For all its numerical significants, yesterday came and went like many others.  The world is full of unrest, poverty, injustice; likely similar to the last 11-11-11 a hundred years ago.  Today we hear and see it all and it overwhelms.  Veterans day itself always makes me think of my family and loved ones who served our country.  I remember their names and faces, sometimes their voice and smell.  Robert, Tom, Jerry, Tommy, Verlon...

I'll take their memory with me on The Way. 

Caminantes

A few members of the Northern California Chapter of the american PILGRIMS on the CAMINO met in Sacramento Saturday for a 2 hour, six mile hike along the American River.  A lively and interesting group led by Samson, with lots of inspiring stories of their adventures on the Camino.  It seems as though everyone is going, or has been, or is going again.  The pull is quite magical, and maybe even, mystical.  There is quite a list of "things you should never miss" along the Way.  A whole new world has opened to me.  But, first things first, my new boots hurt and I only walked six miles.

Fresh local scallops - a lesson

Jim has joined in my latest obsession with scallop shells - the prevailing symbol of the path I've yet to walk. Recently we bought two beautiful scallop shells at a local shop and learned that the whole shell is from Japan and the slightly less beautiful half shell is from the phillipines. We began fantasizing about more of these shells in our home but wanted to find a better price. Jim did some research and found he could order freshs scallops in the shell from our very local fish market. Two (pounds) seemed like plenty for just the two of us and we should have plenty of shells to assuage our longing for them so Jim ordered them. They arrived today and when Jim picked them up he was very surprised to find that two pounds was exactly two very large shells. They are at least 5-6 inches across their widest part. My job it seemed was to get them out of the shell and prepare them for dinner. Of course, thinking I am the quasi chef, I was undaunted by this and quickly found instructions with google's assistance. Breaking into these creatures home was easier than I anticipated. A butter knife and a pair of gloves did the trick. Therein lies the delicate muscle surrounded by a band of membrane and gritty sand and a beautiful bed of pale red roe. The roe is considered a delicacy by some but I admit to a certain distaste for it. However, it was beautiful to look at and sometimes it is all about the visual. I carefully separated the muscle - the edible portion for me - from the membrane and the roe, rinsed thoroughly in cold running water and transferred to the prettiest plate that I could find; I believe in some bewildering desire to nestle the newly living creature in a home more closely resembling its original. Next came the juice of a fresh lime and finely grated lime peel, a dash of extra virgin olive oil, fresh grinds of sea salt and pepper and a bare hint of paprika. They needed no other adornment. Jim placed them on a very hot grill and in five minutes they were done. The first bite was heaven, orgasmic, delicate, indescribable in its outré pleasure. In Japanese they are called "hotate". The shells are scrubbed and on the deck to air. Although they are much too large to accompany me to Spain, they will surely give me inspiration in the next months. We learned that the smaller shells of the scallop are from other parts of the world only, and local scallops are the big guys. I encourage you to invite a local scallop home for dinner one day. It is sure to be a hit.

green pajamas

I woke up this morning
Wearing green pajamas
The ones I've never seen before

The sunlight crept across
The floor with determination
And I played hard to get

The smell of coffee got my
Attention with a sharp sensual
Ease I always fall for

Into the light with unshod toes, taking with me
The green pajamas
The ones I've never seen before

Steaming elixir of the gods Brightens the back of my brain
As if it were newly born
Racing towards the day as the cells gather speed

Brighter now, clearly in the Present, I glance again at the
Green pajamas
The ones I've never seen before

Through the screen door, standing
In the warmth of the Early sun,
I take the green pajamas for my morning run

Even though I've never seen them Before,
I know they want to go
naked toes into dew damp grass

Freshly mowed just yesterday
It clings to the toes
and creeps toward the green pajamas
The ones I've never seen before

No day dreaming davenport day
Only the wind in our hair will do
Swinging, singing, sunning
Me and the green pajamas

Race into the future
The one we've never seen before

The Way

Jim and I saw the movie with Martin Sheen today. It is inspiring and beautiful in many ways. Perhaps not a critical or financial success but relevant to me. Not a day goes by that I do not think about the trip and find joy in the planning. I have been looking at airline faires and train passes. Will likely book something definite soon. I think six months will fly by.

¡Buen Camino

I just received an email from my friend, Maria. She has invited me to walk with her and fellow caminantes in Sacramento on October 29th. "Caminantes"????? How can it be? Apparently there is a Northern California chapter of like minded and experienced pilgrims and I may soon join their numbers. I have never been much of a joiner but it appears that is about to change as I follow my dream of walking The Way in Spain. I can only imagine what I may learn from this group of caminantes. For one thing, my vocabulary is expanding. Maria, my walking partner and friend is bilingual and I assume I will rely on her language skills in Spain. However, it is probably a good idea for me to learn a bit on my own. Yes, another task to add to my growing list of must-dos.

p.s. I added the address and other info related to the scholarship fund near the bottom of my blog. I have discovered that you might not go to the bottom to see the info so thought to call it to your attention.

Happy sunny Friday!

Scollop Shells

A scallop ( /ˈskɒləp/ or /ˈskæləp/) is a marine bivalve mollusk of the family Pectinidae. Scallops are a cosmopolitan family, found in all of the world's oceans. Many scallops are highly prized as a food source. The brightly colored, fan-shaped shells of some scallops, with their radiating fluted pattern, are valued by shell collectors.

Shell of Saint James
The scallop shell is the traditional emblem of James, son of Zebedee and is popular with pilgrims on the Way of St James to the apostle's shrine at Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Medieval Christians making the pilgrimage to his shrine often wore a scallop shell symbol on their hat or clothes. The pilgrim also carried a scallop shell with him, and would present himself at churches, castles, abbeys etc., where he could expect to be given as much sustenance as he could pick up with one scoop. Probably he would be given oats, barley, and perhaps beer or wine. Thus even the poorest household could give charity without being overburdened. The association of Saint James with the scallop can most likely be traced to the legend that the apostle once rescued a knight covered in scallops. An alternative version of the legend holds that while St. James' remains were being transported to Spain from Jerusalem, the horse of a knight fell into the water, and emerged covered in the shells
Jim and I bought mine today.  I bought a whole one and Jim bought the half shell for me.  They sit quietly on my desk, patiently waiting to be hand carried to Spain where they will be infused with the dust, rain, sunshine, and spirit of The Way.

Words

Consider this: Words carry us through the maze and hazards of everyday life. The more of them we know, the more skilfully and artfully we navigate. Words connect us.

Putting Our Heads Together

It is sometimes referred to as Teamwork, collective bargaining, collaborating.  A village can accomplish more than an individual.  Raising my children took a village.  I am often and daily reminded of all the people in my life who supported and encouraged me - I am sure you know who you are, but do you know how greatful I am?  I don't remember the name of the book I read last week or the name of the movie I saw yesterday, but I have such vibrant memories of the times you called me, fed me, walked with me, listened to me and loved me and my children.  I may walk The Way alone or in the company of strangers, but I will take you with me in my heart.

Two Paths

I am a practitioner of the great and wonderful "multitask". This quasi sacred practice is essential to the performance of my job and it brings me peace and clean sox in my personal life. Making preparations for my pilgrimage requires it's own set of tasks and lists, many being performed and formed long before I set foot in Spain. Planning ahead makes me feel good. Planning ahead while making lists while buying equipment while reading books about the art, architecture, history and culture of the Pilgrimage Road to Santiago makes me delirious. But, I ask myself, what am I neglecting here? As a pilgrim, I will walk two paths simultaneously, bringing my tired body and my neglected soul to Spain and dropping them onto The Way. Walking together they will slowly heal and rejuvenate, with time and contemplation. This is my hope.
To get my body prepared for the many miles, I think I know how,but don't I need to prepare my spirit to receive and open to the wonders that await?

Remembering when

This past weekend was everywhere devoted to remembering lost lives. When someone close to us dies, no matter the circumstance or reason, we strive to remember their face, see their smile, feel their touch, and even hear their voice. We think our hearts will break, but they don't and, somehow, we continue to live life and find joy withou our friend, lover, parent, brother. This past weekend was everywhere devoted to remembering lives lost. Next weekend another remembrance will take place in San Francisco at the Aids Memorial Grove. It is the 20th anniversary of the founding of the grove. Volunteers work to maintain the grove and to remember and heal their broken hearts. Through the years of my own life the list of those I fear to forget grows longer. When a name is added, there is renewed pain from previous losses. Sounds gloomy, but it isn't all tears and fears. Once the initial pain eases, I begin to remember the good times, the way he made me laugh, the camping trips, the skiing trips, the late night conversations and the early morning breakfasts. I remember his first visit to my family of origin in the rural south - a mixed race couple with a baby in the 80's - may as well have been the 60's). I remember the courage it took for him to be there with us and the courage my grandmother had when she walked into church on Sunday morning holding Robert's arm. I remember the pride he felt when his children made a goal or an A or walked the stage for a diploma.
If we are lucky, the one we lost remains with us because we choose to commemorate in some way their existence. Sometimes privately, more often publicly, memorializing the life they shared with us. We plant trees, build shrines and monuments. We scatter ashes and place flowers in special places. We write poems and tell stories about our time with them and we give away money in their honor. Remembering in this way helps me to heal the wounds. It eases the pain and brings me joy and peace. The heart and soul of a relationship are not lost when one person dies, it certainly changes and then it takes creativity and imagination to refocus the relationship and, in doing so, build new ones. I think of the healing power of collective remembering which I witnessed this past weekend and I feel a renewed energy and commitment to this cause for which I write and dream.

Blogging rights

I looked up the definition of "blog" and "tweet" since I have only a vague notion of the difference. Now I am confident this is truly a blog, and since it is a blog, I needn't be concerned if I don't write everyday. Unlike Julia, I have no recipe experiences to entertain you with so have decided to entertain you with a quilt project. Think of it as an art form and wrap yourself in the warmth of it.

Update on trip planning: my back pack currently weighs in at 7.4 pounds - certainly less than the 2 stones recommended but probably not as much as it will weigh once I add in the chocolate and water. By the way, speaking of essentials, does anyone know where the coffee comes in?
I have noticed, seriously, how light weight equipment is these days. My sleeping bag weighs two pounds and could almost fit in my pocket-what a wonderful invention. Last time I backpacked in Europe, I am sure my pack weighed closer to my age and I wasn't looking forward to that possibility again.

Passport photo and app are in the mail.

CHECKLISTS

I am a list maker, I confess.  I make lists of daily life and it's enhancements.  When making a list, I place a small box next to each item.  The purpose, and the greatest satisfaction behind list making, is to put a check mark in the box.

This week's list contains an item critical to my pilgrimage:  a passport.  The last time I used my passport was in 1979.  I spent three weeks in Europe (mostly England and Paris) with my dearest friend, Mary.  ...and I still had dark hair.  Mary is the person who inspired my own path to education.  She believed in me when I wasn't so certain.  She encouraged me to take the first step - the application process.  Every acceptance and every exam or paper that followed, were shared with her.  With angst and anxiety, I shared with her my certainty that, this time, I would surely fail to get it right.  Mary said I could and I did  and she made me laugh right through to the other side.  By the end of four years, Mary was probably a little weary of her role as cheerleader, but she never waivered.    Not everyone has a Mary in their life.  Just think, one strong voice of support can make all the difference.  Collectively, those individual voices could blend in harmonious splendor to send someone  to college.  Check that off your list :-)

"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart". Helen Keller

When Robert and I first met in the 70's we were each working to educate and sustain ourselves.  Robert was working evenings at 121 Leavenworth, helping youg people who were struggling with mental illness, and he took classes at SF State.  I worked nights as a nurse's aid at local hospitals and went to nursing school at USF in the daytime.  Sparks flew, as John Nickens will tell you, and the rest is history.By 1984 we had two beautiful children.  When it came time to educate them, we were determined to give them love and support in whatever field they chose to study, and wherever they chose to do that.  We stood by them, each in our own way.  Along with their aunts and cousins, we attended every graduation, clebrated every success and were united in believing there were no barriers for our children that could not be overcome.  I believe Robert, though we are now unable to see him or touch him, will feel the love we have for him and will be pleased by this scholarship fund in his name.  We continue to support and hold in our hearts a belief in the future of young people in our city, and yours.

Potential in every face

Each day during the week I walk through Japan Town, the Fillmore, and parts of the Western Addition. The Raymond Kimball Playground has recently received a much needed makeover and is now alive with kids and coaches. The evenings are filled with activities of every sport; soccer, rugby, baseball, football, and track. There are children of every color and age group. Each evening I see a slender young woman at the pitching mound. She throws ball after ball in an amazing display of underhand fastball. Her coach/mentor/adult catches the balls and returns each with soft words of encouragement. She makes subtle adjustments and throws again. Each morning there are joggers, walkers, a few dogs, and the resident homeless on the playing fields and on the adjacent park benches and grass. As I come out of the park and walk up O'Farrell St.I pass the newly re-furbished San Francisco Bay Academy, a top ranked middle school for grades 5 through 8. There website says their Mission is to prepare their students to "succeed in college preparatory high schools, colleges, and the world beyond". Now that school has started back, I see so many fresh faced youngsters arriving at this school by 7 AM,carrying books, backpacks, and musical instruments. They arrive by car, on foot, by bus and skateboard and bike. I see the future in them - it is written on their beautiful young faces as they reluctantly say good bye to parents and eagerly greet their friends. I can't help wonder who will be the lucky ones to actually make it to college. Sometimes I make up a Homelife and a future for them, using my daily observations and my imagination. This Scholarship fund could be the turning point for any one of these children or countless others like them in our beautiful city. This walk is my daily reminder of why I am doing this.

Company 8/30/2011

Occurs to me others may want to do a few steps too. The story of St.James has inspired pilgrims for 1000 years. Perhaps you will find your own inspiration. The spiritual quality of my own path cannot be denied.

Today I requested the time off from my job. Keep your fingers crossed my boss approves.

"from contentment with little comes happiness" an African proverb 8/29/2011

I took a peak at my new guidebook last evening just before going to bed in my lovely comfortable home. This proverb lept at me like a playful kitten all night and by morning was a rather grumpy lioness. Advice abounds: 1. Don't carry more than 2 stones. 2 stones?

The world knows 8/28/2011

At least I hope it is true. I sent out an email today to share my blog and my dream.

Maria 8/28/2011

My inspiration for walking the camino is Maria. We met today at Squat & Gobble on west portal, in the very thick fog. She brought me two books- The Pilgrimage Road To Santiago & A Pilgrim's guide to the Camino de Santiago. We made plans to meet at REI on Friday to look at labor day sales for equipping ourselves. We also chose April 2012 as our target departure. Today, Maria filled my pockets with curiosity and my soul with yearning; yearning for this journey to begin.

Window of Opportunity 8/27/2011

I dove through the window today, the window of opportunity.  In 2012, I am planning a pilgrimage in Spain along the route to Santiago de Compastela.  This is a personal pilgrimage for me, certainly, but also a way to remember the man who gave to me two beautiful children and to the world two productive and caring human beings. 

As I stumble along my learning curve,  I'll show you the route and I'll figure out how to get us all there.