The BeZine

the quilt…

Posted on November 16, 2013November 15, 2013 by slpmartin

today
was quite warm
so i
was wondering
as i approached
the front porch
why aunt bea
was sitting
with a quilt
on her lap
then i noticed
she was mending it
and
although
i knew better
i still had to ask
why
aunt bea
said
this quilt
was hand sown
by my mother
and
given to me
on the day
i was married
its tight seams
were meant
to last a lifetime
though few do
its
patchwork patterns
of discarded cloth
are like
life’s broken dreams
and
fragmented moments
of joy
and
pain
all woven
into something new
if you look
at each part
separately
there is nothing
special
about them
but
when you
combine them
and
truly see
the full pattern
the beauty of life
and
the reasons for
holding on to it
become
quite clear

.
678ad505453d5a3ff2fcb744f13dedc7-1 CHARLES W. MARTIN (Reading Between the Minds) — earned his Ph.D. in Speech and Language Pathology with an emphasis in statistics. Throughout Charlie’s career, he maintained a devotion to the arts (literature/poetry, the theater, music and photography). Since his retirement in 2010, he has turned his full attention to poetry and photography. He publishes a poem and a photographic art piece each day at Read Between the Minds, Poetry, Photograph and Random Thoughts of Life. He is noted as a poet of social conscience. Charlie has been blogging since January 31, 2010. He has self-published a book of poetry entitled The Hawk Chronicles and will soon publish another book called A Bea in Your Bonnet: First Sting, featuring the renown Aunt Bea. In The Hawk Chronicles, Charlie provides a personification of his resident hawk with poems and photos taken over a two-year period. Charlie’s lastest book, When Spirits Touch, Dual Poetry, a collaboration with River Urke, is available through Amazon now.

Naomi Baltuck, Photo Essay, Photography/Photographer

When We Come to It

Posted on November 15, 2013November 14, 2013 by Naomi Baltuck

So many bridges.

Bridges of concrete…

…iron…

…and steel.

Ancient ones of stone…

…brick…

…mortar….

…and wood.

Some are famous…

…celebrated in story…

…and song.

Some draw pilgrims from all over the world.

So different…

…yet they serve the same purpose.

To span distance…

…to connect…

…to deliver us from troubled waters.

There’s an old saying…it is better to build bridges than walls.

NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com

Niamh Clune, Poems/Poetry

Preponderance

Posted on November 14, 2013November 13, 2013 by Dr Niamh

When thunder rolls on the mountain, I will remain small;
In a time of humility, I will cherish modesty’s virtue.
In a time of mourning, I will uplift with sombre reverence;
In a time of want, I will be resourcefully frugal.

If I should try to fly too high, my wings would be melted by a greater god.
So I will remain in the nest, where I am safe.

I will strive instead to be to be content with Self.
This is the greatest success imaginable.
I have nothing to prove to me or to others.
Posturing is unnecessary.
Strength lies in guileless sincerity ~
Mourning is selfless compassion.

Modesty is an unshakeable faith
That allows grace to flow to others
With no loss to Self.

– Niamh Clune

DR. NIAMH CLUNE (On the Plum Tree) ~ is the author of the Skyla McFee series: Orange Petals in a Storm, and Exaltation of a Rose. She is also the author of The Coming of the Feminine Christ: a ground-breaking spiritual psychology. Niamh received her Ph.D. from Surrey University on Acquiring Wisdom Through The Imagination and specialises in The Imaginal Mind and how the inborn, innate wisdom hidden in the soul informs our daily lives and stories. Niamh’s books are available in paperback (children’s books) and Kindle version (The Coming of the Feminine Christ). Her Amazon page is HERE.

Environment/Deep Ecology/Climate Change, Essay, First Peoples, Michael Watson, Music

Emergent Universe Oratorio Blues

Posted on November 13, 2013November 12, 2013 by Michael Watson PhD

Recently we traveled down to Shelburne Farms for the world premiere of the Emergent Universe Oratorio, composed by Sam Guarnaccia. The Oratorio is a work that re-imagines the dominant culture’s physics-based creation narrative, and seeks to universalize the story. Before the Oratorio we were treated to the soulful playing of Eugene Friesen, of Paul Winter Consort fame. New Paintings, created for the event,by our friend, the marvelous artist, Cameron Davis, graced the walls in the remarkable, “cathedral-like” Breeding Barn.

Just prior to the performance, Mary Evelyn Tucker and John Grim, Co-Directors of the Forum on Religion and Ecology at Yale, and whose film of the same title was the inspiration for the oratorio, spoke. They acknowledged, and expressed appreciation for, Indigenous friends and adopted family. (No Indigenous people spoke.) They then spoke about a vision they hold, in which all of the Earth’s people have one creation story, a story that leads us to an Earthly paradise.

The Oratorio draws on texts from many Western traditions, but appears to include no Indigenous authors. This is problematic and, unfortunately, common in the Deep Ecology world. ( I have been reviewing Ecopsychology texts in preparation for teaching and have noticed a paucity of Indigenous voices, even in texts published this year.)

Of more concern is the notion that any narrative should be the ONLY narrative. This is an idea Indigenous people know well, whether presented in the guise of religious or economic dogma. The very idea of a universal point of view is imperial and colonizing, and alien to Native American cultures. We have many creation stories, each loved and valued.

I was feeling rather blue as I read the text and listened to the lovely melodies of the oratorio. I imagined myself to be the only one in the audience of hundreds who was discomforted. Then intermission came and others stopped by to share their concerns. As so often happens following such events, the concert has remained a topic of conversation at our house.

A few days ago I was having coffee with a Six Nations friend. Out of the blue he looked me in the eye and said, “I am so appreciative of time with you. It’s such a relief to not have to explain myself.” When I asked what he meant, he replied that I understood his struggles and, although we are from different tribal backgrounds, we share a similar ethos. Sometimes I forget how wide the divide between cultures can be in one geographically defined country. To be reminded, as I was at the concert, of the chasm we cross daily can be painful indeed.

– Michael Watson, Ph.D.

MICHAEL WATSON, M.A., Ph.D., LCMHC (Dreaming the World) ~ is a contributing editor to Into the Bardo, an essayist and a practitioner of the Shamanic arts, psychotherapist, educator and artist of Native American and European descent. He lives and works in Burlington, Vermont, where he teaches in undergraduate and graduate programs at Burlington College,. He was once Dean of Students there. Recently Michael has been teaching in India and Hong Kong. His experiences are documented on his blog. In childhood he had polio, an event that taught him much about challenge, struggle, isolation, and healing.

animals/animal welfare/interspecies connections, justice, Nature, Video

The Thing About Love …

Posted on November 12, 2013November 11, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

We humans labor under the conceit that we are the only animals that grieve and have an impluse to be protective. Similar outcomes as those described above resulted from experiments performed on rats. See our feature The Rate Race by J.D. Galleger.

Thanks to Turning Points in Compassion for the monkey photograph with its embeded commentary.
Study published in the American Journal of Psychiatry Vol 121 Dec. 1964. 584-585 Titled “Altruistic” Behaviour in Rhesus Monkeys! Jules H Masserman, M.D.; Stanley Wechkin, PH.D., and William Terris, M.S
Thanks to PETA United Airlines Will No Longer Fly Monkeys For Use In Lab Experiments; Under Pressure from PETA, United Airlines Bans Shipping Primates to Labratories

On the upside: Monkey Trek: A Rescue … Smile! 🙂 It’s about love …

– compiled by Jamie Dedes

Art, Gretchen Del Rio

sacred buffalo

Posted on November 11, 2013November 11, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

Here we have Gretchen del Rio’s delightful watercolor painting of Sacred Buffalo. Gretchen created it for a women’s collective – the International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers – an organized movement to affirm the human connection to this beautiful Earth of ours and an alliance to protect our resources. You can read more about the painting and the group by following the link to Gretchen’s blog. J.D.

Gretchen Del Rio's Art Blog

‘When one sits in the hoop of the People, one must be responsible because all of creation is related and the hurt of one is the hurt of all and the honor of one is the honor of all.’

‘White Buffalo Calf Woman’

I was asked to create this painting for a collective of women coming together to support/embody the energy of white buffalo calf woman. I am very excited about what is happening here. ‘This is a calling of women of peace from all walks of life to join hands and come together as a collective to support a humble movement of the Original People of the world.’

THE MOMENT IS NOW

“When the council of original seed issued by the Mother called upon the four elements ~ air, water, earth and fire ~ to Unity ~ life came to be on planet Earth. Now today, the Mother is…

View original post 393 more words

John Anstie, Peace & Justice, Poems/Poetry

Hearts of Oak

Posted on November 11, 2013November 10, 2013 by PoetJanstie

This is primarily for Remembrance Day, at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, the Armistice. It speaks not just, as used to be so often the case, those who gave up their lives in war, but for all those countless others, from civilian and service life, who suffered as a result of war, their lives damaged in so many different ways. It begs the question: “what is the point of war?”

In all that’s written of this day
I will say only this:
for every single life that’s lost
hereafter may be bliss,
but not the kind of bliss that you
can feel of heavenly truth,
those dreamy summer days that lost
the innocence of youth.

It isn’t here that rapture’s found
nor magic hearts of oak.
Instead, to free the body’s hurt
and love of life that broke,
in time, the route from suffering,
when they could fight no more,
was caring for their brotherhood,
and yielding life to war.

How soon forgot the agony,
the torture of their ends
and freeing them from all the tears
that tragedy portends.
By all the loved ones left behind
a lasting price is paid.
For they must live with pain of loss,
their own release delayed.

By all the soldiers left behind
another price is paid.
For they must live with damaged soul
a mind forever frayed.
So on remembrance day be sure,
when you recall the lost,
remember too the broken soul,
their bliss a greater cost.

– John Anstie

JOHN ANSTIE (My Poetry Library and 42) ~ is a British poet and writer, a contributing editor here at Bardo, and multi-talented gentleman self-described as a “Family man, Grandfather, Occasional Musician, Amateur photographer and Film-maker, Apple-MAC user, Implementation Manager, and Engineer. John participates in d’Verse Poet’s Pub and is a player in New World Creative Union. He’s been blogging since the beginning of 2011. John is also an active member of The Poetry Society (UK).

John has been involved in the recent publication of two anthologies that are the result of online collaborations among two international groups of amateur and professional poets. One of these is The Grass Roots Poetry Group, for which he produced and edited their anthology, “Petrichor* Rising“. The other group is d’Verse Poet Pub, in which John’s poetry also appears The d’Verse Anthology: Voices of Contemporary World Poetry, produced and edited by Frank Watson.

* Petrichor – from the Greek pɛtrɨkər, the scent of rain on the dry earth.

Essay, Spiritual Practice, Terri Stewart

Finding the Sacred in Impermanence

Posted on November 10, 2013November 9, 2013 by Terri

Today I have been thinking about the beauty of impermanence. These thoughts were inspired by an artwork installation I saw recently called Shimmering Tree. Shimmering Tree is a projection of a digital tree onto a huge wall in a gallery. The tree is shimmery, animated, and changes seasons. But it is digital! I wondered about this digital artwork media installment sitting next to traditional portraiture or other more concrete forms of art. Shimmering Tree is art from digital artist Jennifer Steinkamp. An earlier piece of hers is Dervish:

It is a fascinating thing. Steinkamp’s work may be a valuable lesson to not become too attached to a physical manifestation and to embrace the beauty of what is.The inherent contradiction is that this temporary art is captured forever kn a digital form!

I think there may be a deeper spiritual practice lurking in the embrace of impermanence. This is more than recognizing that things change-it is a deep-seated gratitude for impermanence. A recognition of the beauty inherent in change, impermanence, evolution.

I wonder, what have I been holding onto that I need to let go of? Usually those things are behavioral for me. But it could be something else. Shoes. Books. Things. Sometimes I get this fleeting impression of impermanence when I wish I had my camera with me to capture a particularly beautiful vision. But I am forced, in that moment, to receive the image and to release it-with gratitude.

Thinking of impermanence and developing a greater appreciation for it led me to remember a video I saw from Ukraine’s Got Talent. This art is the epitome of grace, beauty, and impermanence.

Of course, life has always been impermanent. Art decays. But usually it is with us more than 5 minutes! Much art outlasts people! What are we going to do when everything has a lifespan tied to the technology cycle?

We better learn to master this! I wonder if there is one word you would like to offer as a movement towards seeing the beauty of impermanence? My word is: ego.

How about you?

Shalom and Amen,

Terri

…

REV. TERRI STEWART is Into the Bardo’s Sunday chaplain, senior content editor, and site co-administrator. She comes from an eclectic background and considers herself to be grounded in contemplation and justice. She is the Director and Founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition that serves youth affected by the justice system. As a graduate of Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, she earned her Master’s of Divinity and a Post-Master’s Certificate in Spiritual Direction. She is a contributing author to the Abingdon Worship Annual. (The 2014 issue just released!)

Her online presence is “Cloaked Monk.” This speaks to her grounding in contemplative arts and the need to live it out in the world. The cloak is the disguise of normalcy as she advocates for justice and peace. You can find her at www.cloakedmonk.com, www.twitter.com/cloakedmonk, and www.facebook.com/cloakedmonk. To reach her for conversation, send a note to cloakedmonk@outlook.com

Liliana Negoi, Meditation, meditative, Nature, Poems/Poetry

panta rhei – sestina

Posted on November 8, 2013November 7, 2013 by Author

sometimes a river dances shining blue,
reflecting in its ripples wind’s soft chime,
allowing leaves to shiver in its true
embrace, like rosaries of dust and time –
when river whirls like that, enjoy the view,
‘tis then that all the strings around it rhyme.

and when the river, wind and sunlight rhyme
you’ll see that suddenly all shades of blue
will turn to playful sheens, and all the view
will twin the chink of angels’ voices chime –
when river whirls like that, it means it’s time
to clear your heart and hear it beating true.

you’ll be amazed how simple and how true
is the entire universe’s rhyme
when you ignore the bounds of space and time
and dip your mind in river’s hues of blue –
the bonds of nature’s dreams are just a chime
embroidered on world’s gossamery view.

just breathe – inhale the beauty of the view
and feel its fragrance, delicate and true,
imbibe yourself with river’s purling chime.
when river’s waves will be your breathing’s rhyme
you will have learned a drop of wisdom blue
to nurture you until the end of time.

you’ll see that there’s no past or future time –
‘tis only present guiding all the view.
the uselessness of human clocks’ true-blue
becomes overt when what they draw as true
within the river’s dancing doesn’t rhyme,
when it reflects the world within a chime.

the river whirls and whispers in its chime
of ancient lessons crossing over time
to match the future lessons’ ageless rhyme –
when river dances, bringing to your view
the timeless wisdom shining bright and true,
just listen to its ever-knowing blue –

within the rhyme of river’s whirling chime
the neverending blue dissolves the time –
raw view of nature’s essence streaming true.

– Liliana Negoi

The audio version of the above poem can be listened to on Soundcloud. More about the sestina form can be learned from here and about panta rhei here.

LILIANA NEGOI (Endless Journey and in Romanian curcubee în alb şi negru) ~ is a member of our core team on Into the Bardo. She is the author of three published volumes of poetry in English, which is not her mother tongue but one that she came to love especially because of writing: Sands and Shadows , Footsteps on the San – tanka collection and The Hidden Well. The last one can also be heard in audio version, read by the author herself on her SoundCloud site HERE. Many of her creations, both poetry and prose, have been published in various literary magazines.

Art, Essay, Imen Benyoub, memoir

very private thoughts

Posted on November 7, 2013November 7, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

The Milkmaid, oil-on-canvas painting by Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675), Dutch

My first memory of art was in a dictionary, when I used to gaze dreamily at a portrait by Johannes Vermeer, The Milkmaid, a woman wearing a white cap, standing by a table covered with a blue cloth pouring milk…I was so fascinated by the painting, by the humble tranquil atmosphere and the basket of bread that resembled ours…and the dancing light on the maid’s face and arm. I knew nothing about this Vermeer but the few lines in the dictionary that never satisfied my curiosity: “a Dutch painter, born in Delft, his paintings, mostly about everyday life and domestic scenes were characterized by use of subtle light ”

Johannes Vermeer was my first inspiration, even his name had poetry or so I thought. After The Milkmaid I started a notebook and wrote about every painter I discovered. I made sure I kept it well hidden from my family.

My mother never understood why I spent most of my day holding that heavy dictionary just staring at paintings, I was a mercurial child and a picture could easily define and change my mood!! So my discoveries continued with Dutch art, some paintings by a mysterious looking guy called Rembrandt and another with an ironic look called Van Gogh.

My friends outside were so far from my world as a million star years. I remember their looks, half sarcastic half pitiful on a girl always lost in reverie, befriending ghostly figures in a dictionary and talking about places they never heard of.
I was always asking: how can this famous Van Gogh paint such a naïve painting like les douze tournesols? I can do it better!! What was le jeune homme au gilet rouge of Cézanne thinking?

Of course my childish mind always separated and catalogued them: the cheerful ones like the only painting by Rénoir that made me so fond of Paris le Moulin de la galette and those beautiful ballerinas in la classe de dance by Degas. The sad ones like femmes de Tahiti by Gauguin. Eespite the suggestive earthy colours of those exotic women I couldn’t miss the touch of melancholy on their faces. Géricault frightened me with his méduse so did the painting of Goya el tres de Mai that reminded me of my history classes about the Algerian revolution. Les mendiants made me cry and have nightmares (with all respect to Bruegel l’ancien). I hated the dismembered people and the cruelty of the act, but those who evoked me the most were those that made my fertile imagination drift even more.

La route de Louveciennes, oil on canvas by Camille Pissarro (1830-1903), French

When I walk back home from school I close my eyes and imagine myself walking with the couple in la route de Louveciennes despite the difference between Pissaro’s perfect painting and my village disappointed me, it gave me extreme pleasure, only equaled by floating with Chagal.’s women in autour d’elle a name I found extremely romantic. Nothing matched that serene blue bathed in moonlight and those strange looking women I wanted so bad to look like.

I loved the fantasy in autour d’elle but another painting made me laugh and cemented the impression that this Picasso used squares and triangles only!! Because I always loved the light sprinkled on Rénoir’s canvas…Musiciens aux masques was as funny as humorous, because I never knew any instrument but the guitar, or who those three men were and never saw the dog under the table until recently.

I was drowning bit-by-bit in this world of colours, I knew Kandinsky, Caravaggio, Durer and Poussin and their names had a sensual sonority for my Arabic ear, not that I could pronounce them correctly because I could only manage the French ones. I continued to dream about the Louvre and cities I can visit when I become older. I continued to have my nocturnal conversations with Vermeer, Cézanne and Rénoir and make my own versions of la route de louveciennes and

Autour d'elle, oil on fabric by Marc Chagall (1887-1985), French artisit, Belarusian ethnic — Autour d’elle, oil on fabric by Marc Chagall (1887-1985), French artisit,

Vlaminck’s nature morte, this widened the gap between me and my friends who thought that I was weird and treated me suspiciously, my mother still couldn’t understand my attachment to this dictionary I wasn’t using to explain difficult words.

These memories came rushing back the moment I finished reading Tracy Chevalier’s novel Girl With a Pearl Earing, a gift from my beloved uncle who lives in Italy.I am still faithful to my Vermeer but through another equally mesmerizing painting la Joconde du Nord, and I know more about the art world now, my childish impressions and convictions are dramatically changed now. I can pronounce those names perfectly and I have wonderful friends who share my enthusiasm and passion.

But…despite internet and the thick art catalogues of le Figaro in my aunt’s library, despite the documentaries, TV shows and the long biographies I can read for hours, that dictionary still has the favour and a dear place in my heart, heavy, torn in places with its red cover and a single Arabic word written in black…

… that was my first art class.

– Imen Benyoub

IMEN BENYOUB ~ is a milti-lingual, multi-talented essayist, poet, and artist living in Guelma, Algeria. She is a regular contributor to Into the Bardo.

Fiction, Niamh Clune

Waiting

Posted on November 6, 2013November 6, 2013 by Dr Niamh

I wait each day, down by the ocean, sitting on our bench, looking out to sea. The sun is relentless, piercing through my linen shroud like an X-ray picking clean my bones. I turn my face to it in supplication. Still, it beats down on me; whilst gentle waves of sea roll in, slide up the beach and trickle through millions of grains of sand, each of little consequence.

A sand crab hurries away. I know not where. I do not wonder. I think only of you and the last time we met. You were dark that day, your passion spent. You could not love. You could not feel. You stood a distance away, dressed in a long grey coat. The heat never touched you. It did not X-Ray your bones, nor expose the wild, stunted heart that lay beneath that full, bleak envelope. A quiet breeze lifted your hair in billowing wisps, playing with it, tempting you to participate in the beauty of the day. You saw no-thing. Your eyes were black, shrivelled into thin points staring out to sea.

You should not have been there. You looked so out of place. The incongruity of the moment stabbed me like a shard of yellow sunlight bursting through the walls of my heart.

I remember now. A tear rolls down my cheek, splashes into the sand and disappears inconsequentially, as a droplet carried in an ocean of tears.

You will never come again.

That time, you came to mourn me. You saw only an empty bench, a cruel, not gentle sea, and a crab that fed off my bones.

I am here my love, waiting still, in the moments when the wind rustles through your hair to tempt you into seeing the beauty of the day.

– Niamh Clune

A.V. Koshy, Peace & Justice, Poems/Poetry

My Wish for Peace

Posted on November 5, 2013November 4, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

I write late
and for nothing
for no reason other than my love for writing
and my wish for peace
and no war
I write thinking of the pride of the young
when they become soldiers
Everybody loves a soldier
Then comes the call
Mankind let us fight only in games
and on virtual screens
Let us kill each other only in 3D, if need be
if violence must be and mayhem and carnage
Dissolve the armies
but I know no one will heed
my call for peace
As long as man exists
there will be soldiers, wars and armies
weapons and battles
and poets mourning these
We cannot live without our warrior half, our dark brother
The only way out is to be at war with oneself

– Ampat Koshy

© 2013, poem and portrait (below), A.V. Koshy, All rights reserved
Photo credit ~ Jean-Pol GRANDMONT under CC Attribution License 3.0 unported

A.V. KOSHY ~ a teacher of some merit, is presently Assistant Professor, in the Dept of English, Faculty of Arts (Girls), Academic College, Jazan University, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Before this he has also worked as Head of the Liberal Arts Department in Srishti School of Art, Design and Technology, Bangalore, Associate Professor in Teacher Training College, Dept of English, in Al Khooms University, Libya, Assistant Professor in King Abdul Aziz University, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, Head of the Dept, of English, Mallya Aditi International School, Bangalore and Senior Lecturer, Dept of English, Fatima College, University of Kerala.

He has published several books, both poetry collections and treatises on poetry. He has also written ciriticism, short story, research and research papers. He was nominated for the Pushcart Prise. He is also a regular columnist for newsloop.in and contributor to Destiny Poets, UK. His greatest desire is to build a village for people having autism where all their needs are met. He runs an NGO called “Autism for Help Village Project” with his wife for this dream to come true.

Peace & Justice, Spiritual Practice, Terri Stewart

LISTEN and LOVE: Working with At-Risk Youth

Posted on November 4, 2013November 3, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

Listen, Listen, Love, Love: Working with At-Risk Youth, an open letter from our own Rev. Terri Stewart. I appreciate what she’s doing – I’ve worked with at-risk youth too – so I wanted to share this with everyone. J.D.

Hi! I’m Terri Stewart, the founder of the YOUTH CHAPLAINCY COALITION, Seattle, Washington. I work with youth who are affected by incarceration. That can be youth who are in prison, youth who have left prison, or youth whose parents have been or are in prison. There is a consistent theme – prison.

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38 And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39 And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ 40 And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’”(Matthew 25:37-40)

I love working with these youth and their families. My typical week is filled with driving from Woodinville to Seattle to Snoqualmie to Kirkland to Yakima and back home again. At least it isn’t all in one day!

Why do I do this crazy amount of driving? Because we practice what I call Extreme Accompaniment ministry. An Accompaniment ministry is when you walk with someone listening and loving. You don’t walk in front, leading them. You don’t walk behind, pushing them. You walk with them, wherever their path leads. Sometimes that path starts at King County Youth Detention Center and leads to Echo Glen Children’s Home in Snoqualmie and then to the Ridgeview Girl’s Group Home in Yakima! It can be a circuitous route! But Extreme Accompaniment has the possibility to cause restoration, transformation, and healing unlike any other method.

The difficulty of this method lies in its intensity and commitment. There are few called to travel with a marginalized youth for 12 months or more. But that is what makes it Extreme! And it is extremely fun! Extremely fulfilling! Extremely challenging! And Extremely transformative!

Right now, the ministry has 3 needs: volunteers, donations, and committed, daily prayer warriors.

Prayer Warriors: I always lecture the volunteers that work for me that their spiritual grounding comes first—without great spiritual practices of Bible reading, prayer, and accountability groups, they will not be able to maintain a healthy ministry. Given that, I list prayer warriors as the #1 priority! The spiritual grounding of the chaplaincy comes first.

Volunteers: We need people to join in the task of Extreme Accompaniment. If you feel called to a 12 month commitment of one-on-one relationship with a youth affected by incarceration, we need to talk!

There are three exciting ways this can be experienced:

Neighborhood Youth Mission Team: This is the Extreme Accompaniment of following a youth from incarceration at King County Youth Detention Center to wherever that youth’s path may go.

Mentors in Mission: This program works with youth before they are incarcerated who are in the at-risk category—from low-income homes and with incarcerated parents. This is a weekly mentor opportunity/meeting combined with the mission work of creating a community garden for the youth’s family. A ministry two-fer! You help a child and you feed their family!

Kairos Prison Ministry Torch Mentoring: Here, you commit to participating to a spiritual renewal retreat within a detention setting where you will meet a youth and walk beside them for the time after the retreat until they move on to their next steps.

Additionally, we need administrative support to maintain our Facebook, Twitter, and web presence. A data entry specialist to do a few hours of work a week. And traditional chaplain volunteers to enter the detention centers.

Donations: Currently, all the financing comes from what little time I have left over to devote to raising funds. That means not very much! We need donations to buy supplies, pay for gas, buy Bibles, etc.

If you would like more information about any of these items or opportunities, please contact me at YCC-Chaplain@TheChurchCouncil.org or call me at 425-531-1756.

Shalom,

Rev. Terri Stewart

Youth Chaplaincy website
Youth Chaplaincy Facebook Page
Chaplaincy Program Ministers to Some of Seattle’s Most Troubled Youngsters, The Seattle Times

REV. TERRI STEWART is Into the Bardo’s Sunday chaplain, senior content editor, and site co-administrator. She comes from an eclectic background and considers herself to be grounded in contemplation and justice. She is the Director and Founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition that serves youth affected by the justice system. As a graduate of Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, she earned her Master’s of Divinity and a Post-Master’s Certificate in Spiritual Direction. She is a contributing author to the Abingdon Worship Annual. (The 2014 issue just released!)

Her online presence is Cloaked Monk. This speaks to her grounding in contemplative arts and the need to live it out in the world. The cloak is the disguise of normalcy as she advocates for justice and peace. You can find her at www.cloakedmonk.com, www.twitter.com/cloakedmonk, and www.facebook.com/cloakedmonk. To reach her for conversation, send a note to cloakedmonk@outlook.com

Bardo News

BARDO NEWS: What Leibniz Never Learned; Paula’s “three minutes” of fame; Niamh’s new FB page; an opportunity for women poets … and more

Posted on November 3, 2013December 23, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

Via contributing poet and good friend to Bardo, Myra Schneider for Second Light Network of Women Poets: AN INVITATION TO WOMEN POETS TO SUBMIT TO A MAJOR NEW ANTHOLOGY FUNDED BY THE ARTS COUNCIL ENGLAND and open to contributions from any women anywhere in the world …

The Second Light Network of Women Poets have recently received Arts Council funding to bring out an anthology of poetry by women poets. It will be called Wings of Glass. The book will focus on ambitious writing and be published next autumn 2014 and launched at the Second Light Festival in central London in late November. The editors are Penelope Shuttle, Myra Schneider and Dilys Wood. Submissions will be accepted between 15^th November and 15^th January. Please see full details for submitting : www.secondlightlive.co.uk

Her Wings of Glass (the title a quotation from Sylvia Plath) is to be a 200 page anthology that will complement but not repeat Second Light’s previous anthology (with Arrowhead Books), Images of Women. The focus of this anthology is ‘big issues’, for example the future of the planet, good and evil aspects of our relationship with the natural world and with each other, different aspects of our imaginative understanding of ‘who we are’.

The invitation is for up to six poems per submission, not more than 200 lines in total, with three copies of each poem to Dilys Wood at 3, Springfield Close, East Preston, West Sussex, BN16 2SZ, by January 15th 2014 together with the administrative fee of £5 (Second Light members) or £8 (non-members). Cheques payable to ‘Second Light’ or pay online at the poetry p f (online shop (filter to ‘Wings’). Non-UK submissions may be sent by e-mail as .doc or .pdf attachments, only to Second Light Administrator (poet Anne Stewart. ) Anne Stewart is a fabulous help with your technical questions. [Check out Anne’s poems HERE.]

The adjudicators will advise those selected by 30th June 2014 and those poets whose work is selected will receive a copy of the anthology when published. Submitted poems may be published (details on poem please) or unpublished or otherwise out in submission. Second Light may also publish a short spin-off anthology if funds allow.

FULL SUBMISSIONS GUIDELINES HERE

Editor’s note: Poets of the distaff side, don’t forget Second Light Network of Women Poets as a primary professional association with an excellent bi-annual journal ARTEMISpoetry, which is published in November and in May. Membership in Second Light network is not restricted to residents of England.

REV. TERRI STEWART (Cloaked Monk) is the founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition in Seattle, Washington. Don’t miss tomorrow’s post for details. You will find Terri’s philosophy of Extreme Accompaniment of interest and applicable to the many situations we encounter and have the impulse to heal.

PAULA KUITENBROUWER (Mindful Drawing) was honored by Boeddhistisch Dagblad, the premier Buddhist magazine of the Netherlands, with an interview and photographs … in Paula’s words her “three minutes of fame.” The feature is HERE in Dutch.

NIAMH CLUNE (On the Plum Tree) has set-off a virtual explosion of activity and inspiration on her Plum Tree Books Facebook Page. She is hosting posts by a bevy artists and writers including Shawn MacKenzie (Dragonsnest) with Editor’s Corner and Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day , the journey in poem). Jamie’s Corner, Soul Speak with Jamie Dedes, is about matters concerned with the inner life.

Niamh’s Plum Tree Books (PTB) is a small book publishing company and will publish material on FB based on the creative collaborations of team members. PTB encourages participation and comment on many subjects from technical advice on how to make a recording, to poetry, social comment, inspirational quotes to inspire your poetry, and how to illustrate children’s books. PTB is always looking for new talent to showcase.

KAREN FAYETH‘s (Oh Fair New Mexico) latest short story What Leibniz Never Learned was published by The Storyteller, a literary magazine of the print variety. Here’s a snippet with a link to the complete story:

“Anton dropped his head into his hands and, with a deep sigh, allowed frustration to wash over him. He had so many things to say, deep, powerful, urgent emotions, and all he could squeeze out on the pages of his quadrille lined laboratory notebook were gibberish lines and jumbled words.

If only expressing words of love was as simple as the calculus that flowed so easily for him. Figuring derivatives of complex equations happened with ease and grace. Math made sense. Feelings did not.

He turned to a clean page and wrote down a problem. He crafted the most difficult math he could think of and then solved the equation without breaking a mental sweat. Math – in particular, calculus – made him feel better.

That’s because: Math = Easy² + Clean + Pure

Words sucked. They could be misinterpreted and get all jumbled up and used against a guy. Especially with girls.” MORE.

REENA PRASAD (Butterflies of Time, a convas of poety) ~ is an Indian poet, blogger, and blogging-community friend based in Sharjah. She works tirelessly on her poetry and on getting her work published. Congratulations to her on her most recent success, the publication of Seasons on Thanal Online.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: We are delighted to be introducing some new talent into the mix over the next few weeks and we continue to work on the submissions received from the Call for Submissions, which is now closed. If you have not heard from us yet, do not despair. The project is simply taking more time than anticipated.

POETS AGAINST WAR was certainly a successful effort and we continue to receive submissions, which will be posted and then also added to the collection Poets Against War, 2013 collection.

POETS AGAINST WAR, the book: Several among the Core Team members, contributors, readers and friends have indicated an interest in publishing the poems in anthology with the proceeds from sales going to an international charity to be named. We are researching the details on this and will share information and plans as they become clarified. The short-term plan is to host another peace event in September 2014 to include artists, photographers, story-tellers and essayists. It will be implemented in concert with the 2014 global 100,000 Poets for Change. If all works out, we’ll electronically publish the combined collection (2013, 2014) during the first quarter of 2015. If you have suggestions or technical skills to share, please let us know and they will be factored into our considerations and/or into the planning process. Just leave a note in the comments. Thank you!

BLOGGERS IN PLANET LOVE: This is a heads-up on an event in the planning for Valentine’s Day 2014. Details to be determined and announced. Look for more news about this collaborative effort addressing climate and environmental concerns and the meaning of nature in our lives.

NEWS TO SHARE?: Please feel free to do so in the comment section.

– The Bardo Group

Essay, grief, Spiritual Practice, story, Terri Stewart

Sacred Grief: Shabbat Shalom

Posted on November 3, 2013November 3, 2013 by Terri

The power is out! I am sharing something I wrote in November 2010. I think it speaks to the spiritual practice of grief work and for preparing for difficult seasons of life. I am going to let it stand as a piece and not edit it on my phone! I hope you enjoy this glimpse into my past.
…
Often we think of Sabbath as Sunday. In fact, traditionally, Sunday is the Day of the Lord and sundown Friday to sundown Saturday remains the Sabbath time. Recently I went to Shabbat service at Kol Ami to experience the beginning of Sabbath, a dedicated time of reflecting on giving our lives and all there is to God. Going to a Jewish service is a little unnerving as it is generally in Hebrew, however, the Siddur (what would be like a hymnal) is written in Hebrew and English. It also has the transliteration so you can follow along. Whew! That allowed me to sort of keep up.

When I entered the Narthex to join Kol Ami during Shabbat, I was a little nervous. After all, I know what we think when new people come and visit us! Often it is “Hooray!” How odd would it be to become the new person again? And how odd is it to become the new person within a building that I know so well? When I entered, Rabbi Glickman almost recognized me. I said hello and put myself into context for him. He introduced me to a lovely couple in the congregation. I got there just in time to hear their tales of recent loss to Rabbi Glickman. My heart tugged because I know those tales of loss. It has been an entire year devoted to loss for me and to the dangerous work of going through this liminal time in my life. Late last summer we had to put down Sarah, our dog of fourteen years. In October I finally did some very heavy grief work for my mother. In February, a good friend at school died. And not only did he die, but I was the one who had to break the news to my school community. I presided over his memorial service. And then, the capper for me was the loss of my brother in May. Oy vey! And then there have been smaller losses since then. But these were the big boulders for me. The interesting thing that I learned was that each time a smaller loss, it taps into that bigger well of grief that has built up. So even a smaller thing like the ROTC soldier at Seattle U who was killed in Iraq recently, brings up the bigger grief and you have to deal with it again. Then I met Maria and her husband.

Maria shared with me at the Shabbos service recent news they have had of a close friend dying. And this was layered on top of huge challenges they have had over the last year. They are an older couple and have had to face challenging health situations that seem to be coming at them in waves. On top of that, they lost their grandson seven years ago. So these smaller challenges and griefs are tapping into that huge loss in their life. I was so very aware that even though there were many differences between us (religion, culture, age), that coming together in our grief to share the loss together on Shabbat as we recite the Kaddish together was an amazing experiment. Kaddish is recited for all who grieve and is an amazing response of faith. In the deepest grief, the responsive prayer is one of praise to God. It is:

Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon; and say, Amen.

May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.

Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for u and for all Israel; and say, Amen. He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

I am also reminded of all the hurts that can come to us during this upcoming Advent and Christmas season. For children of alcoholic parents, for recovering addicts, for people undergoing the birth of a new way of having family, for those suddenly without family, for those who are alone, even for those of us who very much need to watch our food intake—it can be challenging at best and a minefield at worst. I think my wish for advent, for this time of growth, is that we all can embrace change and loss where we need to knowing that it is gestating into something new that may bring forth a beautiful new life. And in this time of gestation, that we may claim together, the magnificence and glory of our creator who creates peace for us all.

Love,
Terri

© 2013, post , Terri Stewart, All rights reserved
Illustration ~ Leningrad Codex cover. This is from a very old mauscript of the Hebrew bible. A former possession of Karaïte Jews written circa 1010 C.E. The photograph by Shmuel ben Ya’akov is in the United States public domain.

REV. TERRI STEWART is Into the Bardo’s Sunday chaplain, senior content editor, and site co-administrator. She comes from an eclectic background and considers herself to be grounded in contemplation and justice. She is the Director and Founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition that serves youth affected by the justice system. As a graduate of Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, she earned her Master’s of Divinity and a Post-Master’s Certificate in Spiritual Direction. She is a contributing author to the Abingdon Worship Annual. (The 2014 issue just released!)

Poems/Poetry, Victoria C Slotto

Unnamed Heroes

Posted on November 2, 2013October 27, 2013 by Victoria C. Slotto

I believe in heroism and, throughout my nursing career, have seen it manifested on a daily basis. More often than not, heroes go unrecognized. I will never downplay the courage of those who serve us–first-responders, members of the military, those who have committed their lives to protect and defend. At the same time, let’s consider some of those heroes who live out their lives in relative obscurity. (That would be most of us).

un-named heroes

i.
a mother waits to hear him say her name,
his father, to play ball.
the child breaks silence only with his piercing cry,
tosses his food, his fists.
the daily fare of parents of autistic children.

Flower Pots (Photo credit: IrishFireside)

ii.
down the street, around the corner,
potted flowers adorn window boxes.
behind closed shutters,
a neighbor/friend (not old)
decides it’s time to let death visit.
a phone call later—cancelled chemo—
he makes his peace and dies.

iii.
outside, sun plays with clouds in azure skies.
inside the empty chapel, darkness fills the stagnant space.
an ancient monk buries his head in his hands,
waits for the shroud of doubt to dissipate.

Westminster Abbey Benedictine Monastery Chapel (Photo credit: Jordon)

iv.
dementia creeps through tangled plaques in her brain.
with trembling fingers she punches in numbers,
asks her daughter to come in a hurry
before it’s too late to make her wishes known.

v.
fingering bruises on her face,
the woman ventures out beyond the confines
of the world she knows.
$35.00 and change,
a scrappy paper bag of clothes,
a 3-year-old child in her arms,
she sets out hoping that there’s room for her,
the address of the shelter jotted
on a crumpled envelope
in her pockt—
the pocket of her husband’s red flannel shirt.

vi.
she hates her tattoo.
she hates her body.
sometimes she hates her life.
she longs to be accepted,
still,
she walks away from those kids
when they offer her the drugs.

– Victoria C. Slotto

(A revised version of this poem appears in The dVerse Anthology edited by Frank Watson and in Jacaranda Rain, Collected Poems, 2012 by Victoria C. Slotto.)
Photo: Creative Commons License

Victoria at the Palm Springs Writer's Expo March 2012 — Victoria at the Palm Springs Writer’s Expo March 2012

VICTORIA C. SLOTTO (Victoria C. Slotto, Author: Fiction, Poetry and Writing Prompts) ~ is an accomplished writer and poet. Winter is Past, published by Lucky Bat Books in 2012, is Victoria’s first novel. A second novel is in process. Jacaranda Rain — Collected poems, 2012 is available on Amazon, as is the hot-off-the-press nonfiction, Beating the Odds: Support for Persons with Early Stage Dementia. Victoria’s poetry collection and non-fiction book are free to Amazon Prime Members. Link HERE for Victoria’s Amazon page.

Peace & Justice, Poems/Poetry, Renee Espriu

I Consider Myself

Posted on November 1, 2013October 27, 2013 by The Bardo Group Beguines

I consider myself to be
a peaceful person
living in a place
not fraught with war
void of detonating bombs
fragments of life gone

I consider myself but
to no avail
for the rumbling of war
has never been far
as off in the distance
on foreign soils
it creeps very close
to my own back door

I considered myself to be
living my life apart
even during Viet Nam years
seen on broadcast news
of death and others tears
of something I was
unable to touch

I considered myself & then
my son joined in the ranks
of men and women called
to fight in a war fueled
by the inner turmoil
of a people distant
and out of sight

I considered myself to be
untouched by the carnage
the destruction of
people unknown to me
whose lives were
never mentioned

I considered myself & then
you came home & you
seemed different
for you brought the
memories with you
that now touch my life
to forever affect it
with war

I have known many who became soldiers. My own father and his brothers fought in World War II, my brother was in service during Viet Nam but did not see battle. But when my own son went to the Middle East, even though he was fortunate enough not to have had to be in a battle, he saw enough of the aftermath, that it has affected his life in ways I will never be able to understand. For most soldiers do not speak of what they have seen and heard but these things, I know, cannot be erased from memory.

– Renee Espiru

RENEE ESPRIU ~ is a creative prose writer and poet. She began delighting us with her work at Turtle Flight, My Muse & Angels in March 2011. The work she shares with us there includes short stories. Renee is a daughter, mother, grandmother, and seeker of spiritual peace and soul-filled freedom. She’s studied at the graduate level and has attended seminary. She describes her belief system as eclectic, encompassing many faiths. She believes “Nature is the basis of everything that is and everything that is also a part of Nature.”

Uncategorized

Through the Looking Glass

Posted on October 31, 2013October 31, 2013 by Naomi Baltuck

The months have been busy with storytelling– dusting off old stories, rehearsing new ones, attending to related business correspondence. Last week I was pressed for time, polishing a story for its public debut, when I heard a little thump. I peeked through the French doors onto the deck. A tiny olive gray creature, scarcely bigger than a hummingbird, lay stunned and shivering where it fell after flying into the glass.

It was a male Golden-crowned Kinglet, with a bright orange and gold crown. They favor coniferous forest; this one was likely nesting in the grove of cedar, hemlock, and Douglas Fir in our backyard. Kinglets are monogamous, and raise two broods each season. As soon as the first nestlings can fly, Mama Bird lays another batch. While she protects the new eggs, Papa feeds up to ten fledglings until they can take care of themselves. Good Daddy!

Perhaps the little bird was an adolescent, driving too fast on his first solo flight, or maybe he was an exhausted frantic father trying to feed his hungry brood. Birds are delicate, and often die of stress. Not wanting to frighten it, I didn’t open the door, but I kept watch through the glass for neighborhood cats and hungry crows. What would happen, I wondered, to the fledglings if their Papa died? How might his mate manage as a single parent when the next brood hatched?

As The Bard said, all the world is a stage. Everywhere tiny dramas–life and death performances–are played out. Most will never be witnessed or even imagined, completely lost in the big picture. Or worse, they will be observed by cold and uncaring eyes.

On my deck, in city streets, in our wealthy country, and all over the world, baby birds are not the only creatures who slip between the cracks, with no voice, and no champion to speak out for them or watch over them.

I turned for an instant to check the clock. When I looked again, the little bird was gone. My eyes stung with tears of relief. Someone looking through the glass onto my deck would see only a few bird droppings, but to me it’s a reminder that life can get messy. Not everyone has a safety net. Not every story has a happy ending. Sometimes we can only look helplessly through the glass at the world’s suffering. But sometimes it falls within our power to change the world, one tiny story at a time.

Something to think about.

All words and images c2013 Naomi Baltuck

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