Self-care reminders

Child sexual abuse is very much in the news and commentary just now. 

 

A reminder for survivors of violence against women, child abuse, sexual assault, and domestic violence:

You can take a break from the coverage and the discussions. You don't have to follow it all. You don't have to participate in all your friends' conversations about it. You don't have to read anything you don't want to or be part of any conversations you don't want to.

What still remains most important is self-care. We can't help other victims and survivors, and we can't change rape culture, by doing things that jeopardize our own recovery.

Wear your own oxygen mask. Help other survivors get theirs on.

Ritual outline for Meeting for Worship

There is an arc to the ritual in unprogrammed Quaker Meeting for Worship. 

It's plain to me.  And it's something I can't help seeing, with my background and training -- in my undergraduate and graduate studies; in my spiritual and religious work; as a Friend; as a Priestess & Witch.

I've written and talked about this in Meeting for Worship some before, including in "'Four Doors to Meeting for Worship' from a Quaker Witch's Perspective" (http://aquakerwitch.blogspot.com/2009/03/adult-religious-education-presentation.html). 

But I've been thinking about it a lot again lately.  

* * * * *

Here's the ritual outline for how Meeting for Worship went in one of the Meetings where I was active for several years:

Outline for Meeting for Worship at [Blank] Friends Meeting: 

• Gather
• Meeting for Worship begins when first person starts to worship, usually a few minutes before 11:00 am
• 11:10, doors close; latecomers are not admitted until children leave
• There might or might not be vocal ministry
• At 11:20, an appointed person signals that it's time for the children to leave; the children leave worship and latecomers enter worship
• There might or might not be vocal ministry 
• At 11:50, the appointed person stands and explains Joys and Sorrows
• Joys and Sorrows
• At app. 12:00, the appointed person shakes hands with the person next to them; shaking of hands continues
• The appointed person stands, makes some routine/regular/repeated announcements about the Meeting; welcomes newcomers and visitors and asks them and those who have not been there for a while to stand and introduce themselves; makes additional announcements and passes out printed announcements; requests donations; other Friends may ask to make other announcements; eventually, appointed person declares we are done and invites everyone to social hour / coffee, tea, snacks
• Room is cleaned up

That looks like a ritual outline to my experienced eye.  A pretty simple ritual outline, but a ritual outline. 

How does this look in other Meetings, or in general?

Well, as with all ritual, there are things we need to do ahead of time, and there's what happens during the event itself. 

Ahead of time:

• Make sure the chairs and/or benches are set up the right way / the way we like them / the way approved by the appropriate committee (Worship and Ministry, Ministry and Counsel, Elders & Overseers, etc) -- whether in a circle, in rows, in squares
• Put small tables between some of the chairs
• Put the central table in place
• Make sure the guest book is in its place, that it has a pen, and that the light is on over the guest book, etc.
• Put books and literature on facing benches or central table, some on smaller tables: Faith and Practice, Advices and Queries, different versions of Hebrew and Christian scriptures, hymnals, printed announcements, the monthly newsletter, other announcements, etc.
• Put bowls for contributions on central table or envelopes for contributions on facing benches or appropriate places
• Put carafe of water and empty glasses on central table (or appropriate places)
• Put flowers on central table (or appropriate places)
• Turn on loop hearing system
• Decide who closes Meeting
• Decide who speaks at rise of Meeting
• Decide who has care of Meeting (which member/s of Worship & Ministry or Ministry & Counsel, Elders & Overseers, etc., are expected to be present)
• If there's a special collection, decide who will talk about it
• If children are present for the first part of worship, decide who determines when it's time for them to leave
• Decide who will clean up room; if it's a rented/hired space, who puts chairs back, etc.
• Determine who is responsible for social hour -- coffee / tea / snacks / etc. -- providing these, serving these, cleaning up afterwards, etc.
• Decide who closes the doors to latecomers and who opens them again

Some of these don't apply to every Quaker Meeting; there are other things I haven't listed here that could also be included. 

During Meeting for Worship: 

• Gather
• Greeters / doorkeepers greet people at the door(s), makes sure newcomers know where to go, especially newcomers with children
• Meeting for Worship begins when first person starts to worship 
• Those who have official roles take their places -- care of Meeting / Elders & Overseers / members of Worship & Ministry or Ministry & Counsel, person closing Meeting, person handling announcements, etc.
• There might or might not be vocal ministry
• Greeters / doorkeepers / appointed person(s) close doors to keep latecomers from entering
• If children are present for the first part of worship, children leave after X minutes
• Latecomers enter; if not when children leave, greeters / doorkeepers / appointed person(s) open doors at pre-arranged time for latecomers
• There might or might not be vocal ministry
• If children come into worship later, or leave and return, children enter worship after Y minutes
• There might or might not be vocal ministry
• If Joys and Sorrows, Joys and Sorrows
• Shaking of hands by appointed person at appointed time
• Appointed person welcomes everyone and speaks about the Meeting in general, including requesting donations; also asks visitors, newcomers, and those returning after absences to introduce themselves
• In some Meetings, all present introduce themselves
• The children may share what they did during First Day School / Children's Meeting
• Appointed person makes announcements; there may be additional announcements from the floor
• If there is a special collection, a different appointed person speaks about that organization and requests money
• There may be a reading from Advices & Queries
• There may be a brief resumption of silent worship
• Appointed person "releases" the meeting
• Room is cleaned up

Again, some of these don't apply to every Quaker Meeting, and there are other things I haven't listed here that could also be included.

So, yes, we have ritual.

One question is, are we honest about it?

* * * * *

Friends (Quakers) like to say we don't have ritual.

Before I ever started attending Meeting for Worship regularly, I had a fair amount of experience as a Priestess & Witch analyzing spiritual and religious ritual, as well as some experience and undergraduate training with cultural ritual, too.  And as I spent more time in unprogrammed Meeting for Worship, it became pretty obvious to me that Quakers have ritual, without calling it that.

September 11, 2001, further convinced me of this.  That week, my Meeting, like many others, hosted Meetings for Worship outside our regular Sunday, or First Day, worship.  Suddenly, just how much ritual was involved each week became clearer to me.

Because the usual people from the usual committee were not always available, other people, who were less practiced, had to set up for Meeting for Worship, had to "run" Meeting for Worship, had to end it, had to herd people out at the end, etc.

Because we have no clergy / we're all clergy, and because we believe we all know how to do this, no one made plans ahead of time for who was responsible for worship -- and those of us from the Meeting who showed up found it hard going when we arrived.  Where were the guest book and pen?  The bibles and hymnals and copies of Faith and Practice for the facing benches?  Should we have informational pamphlets available?  Which ones?  Where are they stored?  Since we had so many people from the community, should someone introduce and explain Meeting for Worship at the beginning?  Who would close Meeting?  Did anyone have "care of Meeting," the particular task of holding the Meeting for Worship in the Light and helping to center it?  Should someone speak at the end after the shaking of hands?  What would they say?  (What did the usual people say?  Where was the script they used -- ?)

We muddled through.  It was stressful.

It was illuminating.

A few years later, I gained further academic experience analyzing ritual in religious and spiritual contexts.  From a religious studies point of view, from a ritual studies point of view, yes, Quakers have ritual.

It's very simple ritual.  But it's there. 

Recommended article: Selina Rifkin, Cauldron to Kitchen, "Pagan Kosher: Eating Local"

The second in Rifkin's Pagan Kosher series.  

Pagan Kosher: Eating Local
http://selinarifkin.wordpress.com/2011/08/28/pagan-kosher-eating-local

For Pagans, the place where we live provides for our shelter, and perhaps our spiritual needs. But when we connect with our local food-shed, we have far more opportunities to revel in our sense of place. We honor relationship, not just with the land but with those who grow the food. The sacred web of community is built from such connections..

And so much more.  Lots of food for thought (pardon the pun) in this one.

Recommended article: Selina Rifkin's "Cauldron to Kitchen: Pagan Kosher"

This is the first in a series where Rifkin explores the idea of "Pagan 'kosher'."  I've followed the beginnings of this exploration in other communications with Rifkin, and I'm looking forward to seeing how her ideas develop further of how we, as Pagans, can approach being in right relation with our food, with what we choose to eat, and with what food options are available to us given our life circumstances and where we live.  I have a feeling Friends might also find this an interesting and useful avenue of inquiry as well. 

Rifkin writes:

But why should it matter? Are not all acts of love and pleasure Her rituals? Certainly eating chocolate can approach the experience of ecxtasy. But what if that chocolate was harvested with child labor? And how good can we feel about an industry built on a foundation of slave labor? The sugar trade spawned the African Slave trade, and never mind what it does to our health. But this is just one example. The food we eat should not just feed our hunger, our desire. It should feed our bodies and minds. It can connect us with our ancestors and our descendants. It can connect us to our local environment. Every time we eat, it is a chance to affirm our ethical choices, and create alignment with our communities. Food is powerful.

Read more at Cauldron to Kitchen: Pagan Kosher
http://selinarifkin.wordpress.com/2011/08/26/pagan-kosher/

Announcing the CPT Boutique on EBay!

Too totally awesome.  If you're looking to simplify your life, get rid of old stuff, etc, and aren't satisfied with your current local options... why not CPT?  
 

U.S.-Canada: CPT Boutique accepting valuables from donors; all profits support work of CPT
You know that valuable old necklace handed down from your Aunt Agatha that you never wear and your children don’t want?  Or that antique china you think is kind of hideous? Or your sister's stamp/coin collection? Or that designer outfit that doesn’t fit you?

Put it to work for peace!  CPT now has a boutique in the Ebay store, Kathy’s Hideous Little Ego.  CPT will accept any legal, valuable item that can mail easily...

Not only will you be simplifying your life, you will be supporting the peace and human rights work of CPT in Colombia, Iraq, Palestine and in North American aboriginal communities.

Click here for more information...

(Click here for the boutique!)

Gathering together, building community

How to explain this deep-seated urge I have...?

I am a match-maker. I love to put people together with resources; I love to bring people together with other people I think they'll have good conversations with; I love to make connections, to knit things together with each other in unexpected ways that work in new ways. I adore connecting people with one another. ("A, meet B. B, meet A. Here's what made me think I should introduce you, but I'm sure there are other things I don't know about. Talk amongst yourselves...")

Fostering space for people to get together, building community, this has been an important (to me) part of my ministry since sometime in the late 80s or the early 90s.

When I went back to college in the early 90s and became part of the Pagan community there, I started organizing dinner get-togethers in the dining halls, or small private rooms just outside them, for Sabbats. I felt that it was important that people who are part of a minority religion, without any kind of campus ministry, who were from different traditions, who didn't know each other well enough to be in circle together necessarily, should have the chance to celebrate together in a meaningful way and to be in community with each other in a way that didn't require the intimacy being in circle together does.

After my life was no longer centered on campus, this translated -- predictably perhaps -- into wanting to hold Sabbat potlucks.

This wish came true as part of the work Nif and I did in the early years of Roses, Too! Coven. (Well, the idea to start something that might grow into a Coven came about at a potluck in the first place, now that I think of it.) Once we had our feet under ourselves enough to start hosting things, we started throwing Sabbat potlucks. These eventually became one of the signature features of Roses, Too! Coven, drew all sorts of people, and became quite a community. I admit some pride in the fact that the extended potluck community included plenty of non-Pagans and plenty of folks who claimed no spiritual path at all, people who did ritual with us and people who never once did ritual with us -- but for whom coming together in this way, sharing food and drink, music, and our stories, was somehow important.

(Now that I'm back in the Delaware Valley, I'm looking forward to starting Roses, Too! reunions, and hosting regular Sabbat potlucks here again, too.)

Different kinds of wanting-to-bring-people-together have been on my mind a lot lately:

1) The week we moved was the Full Moon in September. I knew there was no way we'd have our act together enough to host worship. I happened to ask folks on the QuakerPagans YahooGroup if anyone in the Philly area was interested. Really, before I even blinked, someone had Full Moon Meeting for Worship all arranged for a location in Delaware County, and other folks had made plans to join us in worship from far away.

We definitely felt their presence during our worship here. That reminded me a lot of the sense I used to have, of kinship with Witches everywhere celebrating the Full Moon and the Sabbats, and of the sense I have talked with my Meeting about, of being with them even from afar through Meeting for Worship.

Folks on the email list talked a little about their worship that night, and there was something powerful going on there.

This really struck me. I hosted Full Moon Meeting for Worship/Worship-Sharing the entire year I lived in Seattle; why did it never occur to me to invite distant folks to join in from wherever they were? Why didn't it ever occur to me to post Full Moon and Dark Moon queries here on my blog and see where folks' worship took them? Interesting!

2) A friend from several different contexts has another friend who's Pagan and seems to be called to worship with Friends, but is concerned about finding a Meeting where she will feel welcome as a non-Christian. So of course I keep thinking of people in that area to put her in touch with.

3) All sorts of Friends from different geographic areas, some of whom identify as Pagan and some of whom don't, have been talking about the power of the idea of getting together for Full Moon Meeting for Worship. Sure, Pagan Quakers get together at FGC Gathering every year; but more and more of the folks I'm in touch with aren't able, for any number of good reasons, to go to Gathering. This was the need that led to Great Waters Pagan Friends Gathering, but there hasn't been the energy or leadership to continue it.

We need to get together; we need to gather.

4) A Pagan Quaker blogger I sometimes read has been writing lately about feeling isolated and unknown in her Meeting. (I don't know her well enough to know if she'd welcome a link here.)

5) Another Pagan Quaker blogger I often read wrote recently about two things that struck me: being known, about each other as an avenue of communion with the Divine ("You Who Are My Bible"); and about the lovely woods near her new home, with a clearing with a fire ring ("Meeting for Worship for Woods") (yay, woods)...

Reading her description, I wanted to ask, Can we have a bunch of people come over for Full Moon Meeting for Worship at your house? This is actually less about Full Moon per se, and more about the lure of those woods and that clearing, and the lure of bringing Friends together for Quaker worship that is rooted and seated in nature...

It's about community. It's about the isolation that so many Pagan Quakers and Quaker Pagans feel. It's about the magic that happens when we come together, where we can feel deeply many of the ways we're alike and can be different in all the ways we're different from each other. It's about the magic that happens when non-Pagan Friends join us in worship and in spiritual community, and we help each other be faithful. It's about the magic that happens when non-Quaker Pagans join us in worship and in spiritual community, and we help each other be faithful. It's about the magic, the power, of silent worship in expectant waiting.

Expectant waiting on the woods. On the moon and the stars. On the wind and the sun. On each other.

And what about getting together?

More and more, yet again, I'm hearing this need -- just as in other minority communities I've been part of -- to gather.

For years, I was part of a group of Quaker lesbians who got together once a month for Meeting for Worship, followed by a potluck dinner. We met at different women's houses. This was a magical experience for me.

Since 2001, I've been part of Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns, a community of LGBTQ Friends and allies, and have grown very much as a result.

Friends of African Descent, allies, and loved ones get together for Meeting for Worship and for gatherings, and these gatherings feed Friends' souls in the same way as other minority-focused time and space do.

This year at FGC Gathering, I finally went to Shabbat with Jewish Friends.

Both in spiritual/religious space, and in non-spiritual space, I have seen, and I have experienced for myself, the power that comes when folks who are a minority in the larger group or larger society come together.

In Quaker contexts, all of my experiences with minority groups within Friends have deepened my identity as a Friend, as part of the larger community of Quakers.

I feel again the hunger for connection among Pagan Friends.

How shall we gather? How shall we connect? How shall we come together?

What ways of getting together would help us connect, build community, would feed us and our allies?

My Pagan Values, My Quaker Values

Pax over at Chrysalis blog had the idea for Pagan bloggers world-wide to take some time in June to blog about Pagan values. He points out, rightly, that folks in particular other traditions, especially here in the US, dominate the public discourse about values.

I found this immediately appealing. Both because it irritates me a great deal when the Christian religious right pretends it has "values" all sewn up, and because I'm curious about what other Pagans I haven't already read have to say.

I know, in general, what values my spiritual communities and the people in them hold, as well as the values the traditions that have influenced me hold. But modern Paganism, or modern neo-Paganism, is an umbrella term for a very broad, very diverse range of experiences, expressions, traditions, and beliefs. And I'm curious about what values other Pagans hold, and I'm curious about how that's developed over the 18 years that I've been "out" as a Witch.

But first off, what do I mean by Pagan?

I like to borrow the Pagan Pride Project's definition -- or set of definitions -- of "What Is a Pagan?" It's not perfect, but it is definitely a good "functional definition."

A Pagan or NeoPagan is someone who self-identifies as a Pagan, and whose spiritual or religious practice or belief fits into one or more of the following categories:

• Honoring, revering, or worshipping a Deity or Deities found in pre-Christian, classical, aboriginal, or tribal mythology; and/or
• Practicing religion or spirituality based upon shamanism, shamanic, or magickal practices; and/or
• Creating new religion based on past Pagan religions and/or futuristic views of society, community, and/or ecology;
• Focusing religious or spiritual attention primarily on the Divine Feminine; and/or
• Practicing religion that focuses on earth based spirituality.

As you can see, it's a pretty broad definition/set of definitions.

And it can include folks who are part of relatively mainstream congregations, folks who have created or are part of exclusively Pagan congregations, folks who aren't part of any religious or spiritual groups, folks who are Non-Theists or Atheists... And more.

A lot of people describe discovering that they're Pagan very similarly to how they describe what it was like to discover that they're lesbian, bi, gay, queer, or transgender. It's incredibly powerful to realize:

• There are words for who I am/ what I believe/ what I experience!
• There are words for my inward truth!
  
• There are other people like me in the world!

Many Pagans do, in fact, describe it as "coming out" -- as an outward expression of inward truth.

So now that we've looked at "Pagan," let's look at "values."

Considering the Merriam-Webster definition of values, what are the things that are important to me as a Quaker Witch?

One place to start is with the list of core values we developed in my former Coven in the mid-90s:

Roses, Too! is a Coven of eclectic, feminist Witches. We hold Sabbat potlucks and semi-open ritual, usually on the Saturday (or Sunday) closest to the holiday. Our spiritual backgrounds are diverse: Quaker, Pagan, Jewish, Episcopalian, Congregationalist, Catholic, Atheist, and more.

As Witches, some of the values we share are:

• Respect and love for the Earth, for all living things, as the embodiment of That-Which-Is-Sacred -- as the Goddess.
• The courage and honesty to do hard spiritual and emotional work.
• The compassion to support and bear witness to each other's work.
• A commitment to justice and to non-violent political activism.
• An understanding of magic as a way to create personal, political, and cultural change.
• The recognition of the importance of fun, silliness, and play in what we do.

These are still true for me today.

Part of what had led us to form our own Coven is that while it wasn't hard, in our large East Coast city, to find other people who shared our labels as Pagans and Witches, or people who shared some of our values, it was hard to find people who shared our particular combination of values. There were interesting places to visit, but none that felt like home. (I'm sure my founding co-Priestess will make additions and corrections as needed.)

Some folks saw the Goddess, That-Which-Is-Sacred, only outside the world, not inherent in everything that lives. A number of folks we met were into the supernatural in ways we weren't. Some groups were strongly hierarchical; we were egalitarian. Most weren't able to offer support for the kinds of intensive work we both knew we needed to do in our lives. Some were too "high-churchy" for our needs; we needed something more simple. Some were more dogmatic than we were comfortable with. Not many saw the same kinds of connections we did between our spiritual lives, social justice, and work in the world. Not all Pagans or Pagan groups are committed to non-violence, although many are; not all Pagans or Pagan groups are feminist, although many are. Some groups were much too serious for either of us. Some were actually too light-hearted for us. We needed a balance between seriousness and fun.

So we formed our own Coven. Over time, both the core group and the extended Roses, Too! community grew into just that -- a wonderful, imperfect, organic community. Not all of whom identified as Pagan, or even as spiritual at all, but to whom coming together regularly on the spokes of the Wheel of the Year became important.

My values as a feminist Witch -- the ones that led me to co-found a Coven, and led me to live my life as a Witch -- are the values that led me to Quakerism.

First, on a Coven "field trip" to a Quaker-sponsored training in non-violent intervention. Folks came to this training from faith communities all over the City. We really enjoyed meeting, hanging out with, and working with other religious and spiritual people whose labels were different from ours, but who shared many of our values. (And Rob C. and I still reminisce about how we first became friends by screaming at each other in a role play more than twelve years ago.)

Second, to Meeting for Worship. Many of the people we met at the training -- including quite a few we already knew -- invited us to come to worship. For me, it started out some as intervisitation, and mostly as an experiment in a particular spiritual discipline. Almost right away, however, Meeting for Worship became a regular and deeply important part of my spiritual life.

Third, to Quaker process and testimonies, as I became more involved with the life of my Meeting and other Quaker organizations.

And then, before long, to a commitment to Quakerism as a way of life, because it's an outward expression of inward truth, because it's where the Goddess calls me to be.

The two of us who founded Roses, Too! had both gone to a small Quaker liberal arts college. (I had also gone to a mid-sized state university, another enlightening experience.) Because our alma mater doesn't exhibit much outward, obvious Quakerism, it took me a good five years after I'd graduated to realize how much Quaker enculturation I'd experienced there. One of the things I'm grateful for to this day is how Bryn Mawr provided me with an outward structure for many of the things I believed in and values I'd held before arriving there. The Academic and Social Honor Codes, along with other forms of Quaker enculturation, were things I embraced with a whole heart -- they were outward expressions of my inward truth.

So when Quakerism became my home, years later, it was because of values I'd held ever since I was old enough to articulate what was important to me -- including the values of feminist Witchcraft.

What are Quaker values? To me, they are encompassed by, and exhibited in, Quaker worship, practices, and testimonies. But I think it's fair to say that Friends' worship and Friends' practices, particularly in how we attend to our business together, are rooted in our testimonies:

• Simplicity
• Peace
• Integrity
• Community
• Equality
• Earthcare
• Stewardship

(For more about the Testimonies, click here, and then click on section 5.)

I have a connection with each of the testimonies on a gut level. Some of them are easier to explain than others; some are more accessible than others; some of them are more of a daily presence in my life than others.

In my Faith and Practice study group in my Meeting, I recently had some breakthroughs in my understanding of both Simplicity and Stewardship. (I love North Pacific Yearly Meeting's Faith and Practice; it's a gem.) Peace and Equality resonated with me from the beginning. Community and Earthcare are vital expressions of and experiences of the Goddess for me. Integrity has a near-daily presence in my life, if for no other reason than I am living my life as an out lesbian and Witch.

Each of the testimonies has something to say to me, and says something about me, as a Quaker Witch.

So, if you ask me about my Pagan values, you're going to hear about my Quaker ones, too.

And if you ask me about my Quaker values, you're going to hear about my experience of the Goddess and my values as a feminist Witch, too.

My Pagan values and my Quaker values can't be separated. My Quaker values and my Pagan values are the same.

Quakerism is how the Goddess calls me to walk through my life as a Witch.

The Seven Fundamental Principles

Detailed information on the Seven Fundamental Principles of the International Red Cross/Red Crescent Movement is available here.

The Principles and their explanation are as follows:

HUMANITY

The Red Cross, born of a desire to bring assistance without discrimination to the wounded on the battlefield, endeavours – in its international and national capacity – to prevent and alleviate human suffering wherever it may be found. Its purpose is to protect life and health and to ensure respect for the human being. It promotes mutual understanding, friendship, co-operation and lasting peace amongst all peoples.

IMPARTIALITY

It makes no discrimination as to nationality, race, religious beliefs, class or political opinions. It endeavours only to relieve suffering, giving priority to the most urgent cases of distress.

NEUTRALITY

In order to continue to enjoy the confidence of all, the Red Cross may not take sides in hostilities or engage at any time in controversies of a political, racial, religious or ideological nature.

INDEPENDENCE

The Red Cross is independent. The National Societies, while auxiliaries in the humanitarian services of their Governments and subject to the laws of their respective countries, must always maintain their autonomy so that they may be able at all times to act in accordance with Red Cross principles.

VOLUNTARY SERVICE

The Red Cross is a voluntary relief organization not prompted in any manner by desire for gain.

UNITY

There can be only one Red Cross Society in any one country. It must be open to all. It must carry on its humanitarian work throughout its territory.

UNIVERSALITY

The Red Cross is a world-wide institution in which all Societies have equal status and share equal responsibilities and duties in helping each other.

Lillian's obituary

Lillian's obit from the Daily News. - sm

Lillian Willoughby, Quaker activist, dies at 93

By JOHN F. MORRISON
Philadelphia Daily News

morrisj@phillynews.com 215-854-5573

LILLIAN WILLOUGHBY had a vision of a world at peace.

She and her husband, George, dedicated Quakers, chased this impossible dream all over the world, conducting nonviolent protests against war and preparations for war for nearly 70 years.

They even refused to pay federal taxes that they deemed were going to pay for war. As a result of these activities, they often ran afoul of law-enforcement and judicial officials who did not share their passion for peace.

Lillian Willoughby died Thursday just shy of her 94th birthday. She lived on the Old Pine Farm Land Trust in Deptford, Gloucester County, part of the New Jersey Green Acres program.

In 2004, she and other activists spent seven days in the federal detention center in Philadelphia for blocking the entrance to the Federal Building in a protest against the Iraq war. They chose jail over $250 fines.

In a statement read in court, she summed up her philosophy of peace and justice.

"I am approaching my 90th year," she said. "I had high hopes of leaving this earth confident that the people on it knew more about nonviolence and conflict resolution.

"Even after 9/11 we had a window of opportunity to do just that. By working with the United Nations and the World Court we could have helped build a stronger world community, a community of fairness and justice for all, where compassion, understanding, forgiveness, imagination, sharing and courage are valued and practiced."

In 2006, she and other older activists, including the poet Sonia Sanchez, then 72, were charged with defiant trespass for refusing to leave a Center City military recruiting station after trying to enlist to serve in Iraq. A judge dismissed the charges.

They called themselves the "Granny Peace Brigade."

In 2003, she and other demonstrators had their heads shaved outside the Liberty Bell in the name of peace. They intended to send the shorn hair to senators from Pennsylvania and New Jersey to express their opposition to the war.

From 1971 to 1987, Lillian and her husband ran a commune in West Philadelphia devoted to helping the community. The site included 20 houses that made up the Movement for a New Society.

The Willoughbys lived in a small third-floor apartment where they practiced living simply. When a Daily News reporter encountered them there in June 1980, they were baking their own bread. The group started the first Take Back the Night rally, an idea that became an annual anti-crime event.

Taking on the simple life was also a way to keep any income away from the federal government. Even so, the IRS confiscated their red Volkswagen for back taxes. During the auction at the IRS headquarters in Chester in 1970, the Willoughbys and supporters served lemonade in the hallway before submitting the winning bid of $900 to buy the car back.

Lillian was brought up on a farm in West Branch, Iowa. She attended a Quaker boarding school and later graduated from the University of Iowa. She became a dietician by trade and worked at hospitals and nursing homes.

She met her husband in Iowa. He was a conscientious objector during World War II and helped find homes for Japanese-Americans who had been put in camps at the outbreak of the war.

"She was loving, honest and forthright," said longtime friend and fellow Quaker Lynne Shivers. "She had a deep belief in the Quaker ideal of creating a nonviolent world. She reached out to people who were down, and cared about them."

She also is survived by three daughters, Sally, Anita and Sharon Willoughby; a son, Alan Willoughby, and three grandchildren.

Services: A Quaker memorial meeting will be held at a future date. *

A little unexpected wood stove geekdom

The apartment which Beloved Wife and I are renting in Seattle doesn't have a central heating system. It comes with electric oil-filled radiators and a woodstove, and our landlady pays utilities, including wood for the woodstove. (I think that bit is very smart on her part, because then she has some say in the management of the woodpile. We once lived in a house with two fireplaces, where the prior tenants hadn't taken very good care of the woodpile... and it was a damp, icky, disintegrating mess.)

I used the woodstove at Samhain for burning mementos to my ancestors and my dead, but wasn't sure we'd ever really use it for heat. I don't have any woodstove experience, in spite of the fact that my parents and my aunt and uncle heat with woodstoves. And although I know how to build campfires and fireplaces fires, I don't know much about building fires in stoves, and I can tell it's a very different sort of thing. (There's no grating; this stove is too tiny to put pieces crosswise... er?) I had this uneasy feeling, too -- while I liked the idea of not using fossil fuel or electricity, and not paying a big utility company to heat my house, I wasn't so sure about the environmental impact of burning wood. Plus, I have asthma -- do I want to heat my house this way?

Then the temps dropped to the 20s F, and there was just no way to get our apartment above 60F with the electric heaters. And there was the threat of electricity outages due to wind and ice. I didn't want to be learning how to use the stove when I couldn't see and it was 50F in our flat.

It was definitely time to fire up the woodstove.

And while I didn't find myself terribly proficient at managing it yet, I did find myself really appreciating, even enjoying, having a fire in the woodstove. There's a subjective difference between heat from a woodstove and heat from radiators, forced-air systems, and the like. I can't quite explain what it is, but it felt different, and I liked it.

I've also found myself appreciating the beauty of wood -- all the different shades of cedar, the sheen of maple -- in a way that's somewhat different from when woodworking or whittling. And I understand in a first-hand way now how Doug fir is fire-resistant, and how seasoned cedar kindling really is different from freshly-split cedar kindling from a seasoned log. There's something I really like about becoming familiar with, and appreciating, wood in this way. It feels akin to honoring the sacrifice of an animal I eat, the sacrifice of the Horned God, or to honoring the death of the plants I eat, the sacrifice of Lugh or the Grain God.

When the temperatures warmed back up, so that we could go back to keeping the house reasonably warm using the electric heaters alone... I felt a little lost without a fire to tend. One website I was reading recently summed it up nicely: heating with a wood-burning stove is a little like having a pet. Its presence is always there; it requires a certain amount of attention; it's warm; it can feel kind of affectionate.

I decided to do some research on how to build a good fire in a woodstove. My perfectionist self was feeling like there must be a better way to get a fire going than my so-so efforts thus far.

I discovered a handful of interesting things out there on the web; as with so much on the internet, some were useful, some less so.

There are a couple of methods to building a new fire in a woodstove that I'm going to try; there's a rather different way of starting new logs from existing coals that I'm also going to try. (Physics!) Crumpled newspaper, which is how I learned to do start fire growing up (gosh, doesn't that sound like I was a juvenile delinquent), does irritating things in a woodstove, and that's been driving me batty; so I'm learning to make "Nantucket Knots" (which somehow remind me of Brigid's Crosses). Physics again!

I'm enjoying the geekdom.

I also know a little about the guy our landlady buys our wood from. I feel good about how buying wood from him helps him support himself.

I like how, if you know where your wood comes from and you buy it locally, you can help support your local economy, can help support sustainable wood harvesting, can help conserve fossil fuel by not hauling your wood long distances. I like participating in the carbon cycle this way. I like getting a little off the grid. I like how a good woodlot is a renewable resource. I like how, if you use your woodstove well, you can produce less pollution than if you heat your home by most forms of commercial heating.

So I am a cautious convert to this wood-heat thing.

Which is not at all what I expected.

A bit of a limb

I'm going to go out on a bit of a limb, and share with you more of what I've been up to since moving to Seattle. Which, come to think of it, is spending a lot of time out on a limb.

Starting this fall, I've been making ministry the focus of my life.

That's such a simple statement. But there are so many things it doesn't say -- about faith and faithfulness, anxiety and fear, joy and peace and simplicity, and more.

This leading has been building for a while, and came to something of a crescendo almost a year ago, when Beloved Wife and I were struggling to discern our next steps.

She was completing her PhD in math, and had started to hear back from post-doctoral jobs she'd applied for. We were trying to figure things out -- not only what to do next, but how on earth to decide. None of what looked best for her was compatible with what I'd thought I was led to do next. We twisted ourselves into some pretty interesting and awkward pretzels trying to make it all work. (The pretzel-twisting didn't work.)

A couple of things helped. One was deciding we trusted that this leading to be in a marriage with each other would not be mutually-exclusive with our other leadings. Three other things that helped were my being willing to listen deeply, even daringly, to myself; my asking for a clearness committee; and Beloved Wife's willingness to trust this before I had good words to explain it.

Beloved Wife was in England for the semester, writing her dissertation in reach of her advisor, who was there on a visiting professorship. I was in Ann Arbor, working, taking a class, and doing intensive physical therapy for an old injury.

I had a series of experiences where discernment came in bright, heart-pounding flashes. Exam questions in my music theory class ("Describe your ideal lifestyle"). An email exchange with a dear friend/former professor and mentor ("I know exactly what kind of 'shop' you should set up!"). A clearness committee meeting with me at Mid-Winter Gathering, with deep worship, deep love, laughter, and tears ("No, you can't hide").

So, I gradually came to understand that my next step was to answer a leading to make ministry the main focus of my life, of my time and energy.

That didn't mean I knew what it would look like.

And I still don't!

I know some of what it looks like, or at least what it's looked like this fall: taking some classes, hosting events for building spiritual community, being available for counseling and spiritual direction, submitting a workshop proposal for FGC Gathering, participating in the life of the Meeting I'm attending here in Seattle, getting to know the local Pagan community a little, making sure I take time for things like dance (my version of "going to the gym") and for teaching dance... But sometimes I think I'm still figuring it out every day.

That's okay with me, for the most part. I don't need to have it all figured out. I don't necessarily need to know where I'm going to end up, just where the next few steps are.

A lot of this last year has felt like this song-and-picture combination:

I feel like I'm crossing a stream in the woods: I can see the rock I'm stepping on, and I can see the next; I can tell there's a mossy bank on the far side, but I can't see all the stepping stones in between. (Or the places where my feet will get wet.) But the woods are green and beautiful; the birds are calling; the sun is shining down through the trees; the breeze is dancing; the brook is singing.

Imani, faith, can come like a spirit
Spirit come like walking on air
Take a step, and trust in the path, and
Mother Imani meet you there.

- from "Imani," by Rachael AK Hazen

Google, Halloween, and energy-saving tips

So, as a Friend who experiences the Divine through the Earth, I have a concern for ecology.

Right now, I'm entertained -- and pleased -- by Google's energy-saving tips campaign:

"Haunted by high energy costs? Here are some easy ways to save."

Their "Haunted House" takes you through what to do if you are "haunted" by different things ("Ghosts: Hear that eerie moan? That's the sound of warm air escaping up your chimney. Close the flue damper when the fireplace isn't in use"). It's both cute and practical. And their calculator will help you determine both how much money and how much energy you save by the actions you're already taking. Plus, they have an advanced tips section.

Enjoy!

Fall Equinox/Mabon

I hosted a small potluck for Fall Equinox Thanksgiving, for which I'd sent out the following invitation:

At Fall Equinox, day and night are equal in length; going forward, the nights will start to become longer than the days, until we reach the Longest Night at Winter Solstice. Harvest is a time of preparing for the coming winter and dark time of the year.

What foods are crossing our tables this time of year for which we find ourselves especially thankful? What foods do we eat and find ourselves thinking, "Wow, I'm glad to be alive in a world that has [this food]"? What foods will go forward with us into the winter, and which will not?

Whether it's home-grown tomatoes after a cool and slow summer, really good chocolate, or something completely different -- bring something to share which you're thankful exists so that you can eat it!

There was pasta with local veggies -- tomatoes, red bell peppers, garlic -- and fresh mozzarella. Home-made beet and vegetable soup-stew, again with lots of local ingredients. Home-made bread -- sourdough with rosemary from the garden. (Rosemary and lavender both grow nearly wild here.)

We hung out and talked far past when the potluck was supposed to have ended: friendship, community, good company are things for which I'm grateful, and in which I find joy.

New experience: Rainier cherries. Wow!

Yesterday, Beloved Wife and I went to the University District Farmer's Market, where I was introduced to Rainier cherries.

Now, we had excellent cherries in Michigan, so I was prepared to go back to "ordinary" cherries. But I liked the Rainier cherry sample I tasted, and so bought a pound of them.

I sat down this afternoon to eat a handful, and, wow.

Definitely not "ordinary" cherries. :)

The Full Moon and Western Pines

Our new apartment is very close to a lovely park -- the Washington Park Arboretum. Beloved Wife discovered it during a run the other morning. That night, when I was tired and out of sorts and overwhelmed by unpacking, she insisted I walk over there with her, knowing it would help me breathe, and ground, and center. It was lovely.

The following night was the Full Moon. We walked over together just before turning in for the night, and sat at the top of a little hill, on a bench, surrounded by all sorts of western pines in the pine grove, and watched the full moon through the branches. It was lovely.

What a happy blessing for the first week in our new home.

"An unromantic approach..."

I'd like to recommend my friend Michelle's article, "Don't wait for the 'right room' to pray."

(I know we Quakers like to think we're immune to this, but really, we are confronted with all the same challenges as everyone else when we wish to commune with the Divine. I've heard from a lot of Friends who have trouble worshipping outside the Meeting Room...)

England 6: Quaker Country

My final day visiting Beloved Wife in England, we headed further up north, into Quaker Country (also called "1652 Country").

(Two wonderful websites about walking tours of 1652 Quaker country: Bill Samuel's Quaker Tour of England, and Dai Williams' An Attender in Quaker Country.)

We were limited to places we could get to by the combination of public transit and our own two feet, and by the time of a dinner date in Manchester that evening. Beloved Wife did some on-line research, and we decided to visit Briggflatts Meeting House and hopefully Firbank Fell.

We took the train to Oxenholme, then the bus to Sedbergh. The bus ride was, um, dramatic: here we were on this big bus, in hilly country, on these very narrow lanes bordered by stone fences, going rather fast. (It didn't seem to bother any of the other passengers -- three elderly women -- at all.)

From the bus, we had a lovely view of Lambrigg Wind Farm. That was neat!


Here we are in Sedbergh:


(Don't ask me why there are palm trees in Sedbergh.) From Sedbergh, we walked to Briggflatts Meeting House and Burial Ground. (For the map, click here. Briggflatts is southwest of Sedbergh; Firbank Fell is northwest of Sedbergh.)

Walking along paths in this part of England involves some interesting customs regarding private property and public rights-of-way. And gates. As with our trip from Edale, we found ourselves walking along paths that bordered as well as cut through the middle of sheep pastures. (In Edale, there were some cattle, too.)


The customs seem pretty simple: don't scare the critters, keep your dog on a lead if you're walking with one, and make sure you close the gates behind you. Interestingly, as we approached Briggflatts, and saw there was repair work taking place on one of the buildings, we also saw signs for the re-routed footpath. Very neat.

So we walked out of town, through fields, over hills, along lanes, and under an abandoned railroad track, until we came to Briggflatts. First we visited the burial ground, then the meetinghouse itself.


The burial ground was beautiful.


The meetinghouse, which dates from 1678, was also beautiful. Even now, just looking at the picture and remembering the deep, deep sense of peace in the meeting room, I find myself with tears in my eyes.


Many of the folks who signed the guest register -- Friends and non-Friends alike -- commented on the simple beauty and the peace of the meetinghouse.

Perhaps, as Friends, we shouldn't care, or it shouldn't matter to us, what our Meetinghouses look like, if they're beautiful or not. But it does. And I don't think worse of us for it.

Briggflatts is in my absolute favorite style of meeting room. There's a meetinghouse in the midwest of the US, whose insides just look like a Methodist church to me: medium-blond wood paneling on the walls, the same shade of medium-blond wood in the benches, pale blue-green cushions, and very modern. Somehow, it just doesn't work for me. (I realize this sense of what's "right" in a meetinghouse is a distinct result of the East Coast Catholic portion of my upbringing.)


There is a small set of rooms in the same building, accessible from outside, that houses the Meeting's library, a bathroom, and even a small kitchen. There were mugs and tea placed out in the library, with a note that milk was in the fridge, and an invitation to eat one's lunch and have a hot cup of tea. Such lovely hospitality!

We had our lunch out in the garden, in spite of the chill, while consulting the map. We sadly concluded that we could not both walk to Fox's Pulpit on Firbank Fell and make our train, and prepared to leave. As we were walking up the lane towards the footpath, one of the wardens, Tess, appeared out of their house to talk with us, and offered to drive us up. This gave us a lovely chance to visit with her, and talk about the life of the Meeting, Quakerism in the US and Britain, her husband and children, and just to enjoy fellowship. It was a treat.

Tess told us how George Fox preached to 1,000 people here. We had heard this, but found ourselves in puzzlement. Firbank Fell is in the middle of nowhere, as you can see in this picture. Why did Fox decide to preach there, and why on earth were 1,000 people there, 350-odd years ago, to hear him?


According to Tess, the people of Kendal and Sedbergh couldn't decided which of the two towns should get the church, so the church was built on top of Firbank Fell, between them. When Fox came to preach, word spread, and so not only did the folk of both towns come to hear him, so also did all their friends and relatives from far away. When Fox was denied entry to the church, he chose this rock, next to the church, from which to preach.


(Evidently, he later took over the pulpit in the church, too.)


Tess offered to drive us to Sedbergh to catch our bus, but because of her help, we had plenty of time to walk back to town; so we asked her to drop us off back at her house and the meetinghouse. When we got there, a committee meeting was about to start, so we got to meet several folks from the Meeting. In spite of all the visitors they get every year, they welcomed us enthusiastically (in an understated British way). Like the warden in York, they seemed to feel some extra kinship on learning that the two of us are part of the unprogrammed tradition.

To walk back to Sedbergh, we cut along the old railway bed so we could walk along the Dales Way footpath.


We were in good time to catch our bus, and then our train, and then to have dinner with folks in Manchester.

The day was definitely one of the highlights of my trip.

Click below for the full album.

2008-02 England 6: Quaker country

England 5: York

Another of our day trips was to York, where there was lots to see and do.

When we got off the train, we walked up the hill to the Cathedral. It's a beautiful space. (What an understatement.) We appreciated the open spaces, the stained glass windows (many with notes regarding who took responsibility for their preservation during WWII, or for their restoration over hundreds of years), the organ, the fact that it's a working faith community, the atmosphere in general... I really liked the fact that there was an atmosphere of worship that nonetheless welcomed tourists; that combination felt really nice. And the docents were lovely to visitors.

I particularly noticed the stained-glass window "sacred to the memory of the women of the empire who gave their lives in the European war of 1914-1918."


In general, the mix of old and new, historical and present-day, was much less awkward in the parts of England I visited than what I've experienced in the US. (And -- aside from places like the pueblos in Frijoles Canyon in New Mexico -- "old things" in Europe are definitely older than "old things" in the States!)

We took the dare of climbing to the top of the tower. I like taking pictures of spiral staircases, but the two staircases to the tower are closed, not open, so I did not get any nautilus-type pictures of the spirals. Given just how long the climb is, it's probably better that way: I couldn't tell how much further we had to go up. Down, of course, took much less time and effort...

The stairs up the tower are so narrow that you can't pass while on them. Therefore, they only let people up every half hour. Everyone who's going in that time slot goes up, and nobody else goes up til they've all come down.

There's a lovely stop in the middle, where you walk along the outside edge of the roof, over to the second set of stairs. Also a nice place for a picture.


Happily, there are chairs at the top for wimps like me... Actually, I can't claim wimpdom on this one: the docents recognized us later as folks who'd made the climb. "Are we so memorable?" I asked. "No," one docent answered, "we just haven't had many people go up today," in a (Britishly understated) tone of admiration.

We had a lovely lunch of Cornish pasties, which we ate outside in St. Helen's Square. Then we wandered around the old part of the city, including the Shambles.


From the Shambles, we walked to the other side of the old part of town and visited Clifford's Tower, the remaining part of the Castle of York. More stairs -- first, up to the tower, then, in the tower. As my wife pointed out to me, there was a theme to our day... However, I did get a partial spiral stair picture out of the climb.

After Clifford's Tower, we crossed the River Foss, one of York's two rivers, and walked along most of the remaining city walls. This was fun.

And then we had afternoon tea in a Tea Room. Hee. Yum. We had lovely tea, accompanied by divine sultana scones and a Yorkshire curd tart. This made me happy.

We discovered mention of the Quaker Meetinghouse in a tourist map's list of "places to eat your lunch out of the rain." I insisted we go find it, and find it we did. Friargate Meeting is a lovely place, and visiting it -- especially so unexpectedly -- was one of the highlights of my day. The warden was also very hospitable, and we were very glad we stopped in. The Meetingroom itself is a place with a deep sense of peace, and it was a centering experience for me to spend a few minutes there. As I said, a highlight.


The warden showed us a picture of the interior of the old Meetingroom -- destroyed in WWII? I don't quite remember -- and Arch Street Meeting in Philadelphia is a spitting image of it.

I felt very welcomed and at home among British Friends, when we worshipped in Manchester, and when we visited Friargate and Briggflatts.

After visiting Friargate Meeting, we dashed back up the hill to the Minster for choral evensong, which was beautiful. (The organ was amazing!) Beloved Wife noted with amusement the addition of scripture regarding earthquakes. She also clearly found evensong a centering experience, a good end to our day in York.

(My reaction, particularly coming right after being in the Friargate Meetingroom, was, "Thank you, Goddess, for making me a Quaker!")

We crossed the River Ouse at sunset, on our way back down the hill to the train station.


For more pictures of our day in York:

2008-02 England 5: York

England 3: Edale and Mam Tor (Heights of the Mother)

One of the first things I noticed in Manchester is what birdsongs I was hearing, and what birds I was seeing. The first of these was definitely the magpie, who seems to be a cheerful and sociable bird.


Our first day trip outside Manchester was to the town of Edale, in Derbyshire. It's in the Peak District National Park, halfway between Manchester and Sheffield. (Click here for the Ordnance Survey Map.) We headed south from Edale, up to Hollins Cross, then headed east (and further up!) towards Mam Tor. It was quite a climb! At the top, it was very, very windy; the closer we got to Mam Tor, the more the wind tried to knock us over. (My wife compared it to Mt. Washington in the White Mountains of New Hampshire in the US.)


The weather ranged from bright and sunny to cold and very windy, and everything in between, including (of course) a little rain. Somewhat like Michigan in that respect. We saw lots of sheep, and even a few cows. We also saw lots of gorse, and even a little heather, although none was in bloom until we got back down into town.

It was an amazing day spent out of doors, doing lots of walking. Our mileage wasn't actually as high as one might expect, but I was pretty proud of myself for doing as much as I did and under such conditions. I might not be up to what I used to be able to do before my injury, and my improvement might still be long and slow, but I can keep reminding myself that I am definitely improving... :)

2008-02 England 3: Edale & Mam Tor

Reducing our carbon footprints

Here's an interesting article from the New Yorker on the complexities of reducing carbon footprints. Is it better to grow something locally if it actually uses more energy and produces more greenhouse gases than growing it further away and transporting it? And other questions.

"Big Foot: In measuring carbon emissions, it's easy to confuse morality and science," by Michael Specter.