"spiritual biodiversity…"

"This is the sound of all of us.
Singing with love and the will to trust.
Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust.
This is the sound of all of us."*

The relationship between the inner landscape, and Alan Savory's principles of Holistic Resource Management, have fascinated -- and inspired -- me for over two decades. 

My first introduction to HRM was through Byron Shelton, who at the time was the Ranch Director for the Adventure Unlimited Ranches in Buena Vista, Colorado. Byron's enthusiasm for Holistic Resources Management was contagious.

I remember that sunny afternoon in June. I'd asked Byron to walk me through the fundamentals of HRM.  He explained that native grasslands did not need protection from large herding animals, but thrived in symbiosis with them.

He went on to explain that the practice of fencing off our agri-delineated land so that it would not be trampled on by cattle -- thus leaving it undisturbed and fallow -- was actually depriving the land of its most vital relationship. A relationship that could transform our global landscape. A relationship between the land its inhabitants that had potential for reversing the desertification of grasslands, pastures and prairies worldwide.

He showed me a beautiful -- but fenced off -- high country pasture.  Upon first examination it was lovely.  Filled with small clusters of flowering plants.  He explained that those arrestingly lovely flowering clusters were called forbes.  And that each forbe -- although beautiful to look at -- represented a self-seeding cluster that was surrounded by arid, dry, cracked, earth devoid of organic plantlife.  He explained that, in fact, each cluster -- however beautiful -- would continue to grow smaller and smaller as it self-seeded.  And as each cluster grew smaller all that would remain would be a pasture of dry, arid, useless soil.

He explained that by removing the fences and allowing the large herding animals -- cattle, elk, bison, etc -- to trample on and break up the hard, dry soil we would be taking the first step in renewing the land. This breaking up of the soil allows the rain water and snowmelt which washes through the pasture to collect in the broken up land, to penetrate more deeply, and thus rebuild the natural water table far below the surface topsoil.

He also explained that when the large herding animals ate the nourishing grasses, their digestive system (including natural, efficient waste management) would spread the seed throughout the pasture by way of their dung.  Thus providing a warm germinating medium for the seed, and preventing it from blowing away in the wind. 

I was fascinated.

This all made so much sense to me then. And it still does today. 

And I've loved considering its implications for other landscapes -- community, church, family. And for me, most importantly, the invironment -- the inner pastures of the heart and mind -- where the most vital transformation can take place.

How often do we think that the best way to protect our principles -- our values, traditions, or dogmas -- is to fence ourselves off from anything that would trample on our precious, beautiful, well-patted-down ideals?  We self-seed. And we become thrilled with the beautiful flowering plants that begin to spring up.  But on closer examination those flowering clusters are growing smaller and smaller as their re-population within the pasture becomes less and less frequent.

How do we "save" those ideals we love so dearly, and care for with such fervor? I believe it is through rigorous spiritual biodiversity.

Mary Baker Eddy, advises, in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, that:

"All nature teaches God's love to man." 

If we look at nature -- and at what the Savory Institute has tested and proven in sub-Saharan Africa, as well as in agri-communities throughout the world -- we begin to learn that we must begin by taking down our self-preservationist fencing. We can start by removing the mental boundaries we constructed between "us" and "them." Just as in Holistic Resource Management principles, the pasture lives in symbiosis with the cattle, each providing an important counterpoint to the other's survival -- so do our most loved ideas grow by being challenged and investigated by others. We did deeper for fresh water and our roots grow stronger in being tested.

I am beginning to think that we must allow our much-loved, well-protected, and self-certain belief-landscapes to be questioned, reasoned through, and tested. In doing so, that the soil will be broken up and aerated. This well-turned mental soil is then ready to receive and drink in the healing, nourishing, refreshing waters of inspiration. This is soil that receives new seed eagerly. This is fertile ground for sustainable growth. 

And when we share the seed without restraint, we allow those precious flowers to be eaten --  taken in, chewed on, digested -- and yes, spread both on the wind, and through the process of bio-elimination.

Yes, our well-loved beliefs may get stirred up with the soil, but so will the self-certainty and cultural mis-interpretations that come with decades of self-preservation.

I've been exploring the principles of Alan Savory's Holistic Resource Management to govern the care of my in-vironment -- my inner landscape -- and my sense of community.  I have learned to welcome those "others" who are willing to challenge my self-certainty. I am not afraid to have my beliefs examined and turned upside-down by genuine inquiry. It is often through this exchange that I receive fresh inspiration, find that the soil of my heart is less fallow, and my inner water table renewed.   

And I love it when the flowers of my pretty forbe-like thought-clusters are chewed on by those who are interested -- not just in hearing about the beliefs that I cherish -- but are willing to share their own in spiritual symbiosis. 

Yes, sometimes this leads to my beliefs being rejected -- eliminated from their system of thinking. But it is also true that through this process, the essence of those same ideas will be shared more broadly, and foster new growth. 

These are just some thoughts that have been absolutely critical to the vitality and sustainability of my own inner ecosystem.   I admit, I may have taken what Byron shared that day and unwittingly walked all over it -- I sure hope not. These principles transformed my sense of what it meant to live and think in a diverse spiritual thought-community. It has made such a difference in the way I see the world, and my place in it.

Recently The Savory Institute was honored by TED as having produced one of the "TED Ads Worth Spreading". 

I am not surprised.  Their video was produced by Foresight Media, under the direction of Laurie Benson. Its purpose is to introduce a larger audience to principles that have the potential of reversing devastating environmental concerns and giving thought leaders, ranchers, and spiritual pioneers around the globe a model for sustainable inner health and viability. 

Thank you Alan Savory,  The Savory Institute,  Joel and Laurie Benson, John and Alison Abdelnaur at Foresight Media. And thank you Byron Shelton. Your willingness to take an afternoon and explain these principles to an eager listener was life-transforming.

with Love,

Kate

*Please enjoy the Wailin' Jennys "One Voice" -- it speaks to me tonight.

"The sound of voices three..."

"This is the sound of voices three.
Singing together in harmony.
Surrendering to the mystery.
This is the sound of voices three..."

I love sound of three voices singing in harmony. And the Wailin' Jennys' "Once Voice" speaks to a "something deeper," that keeps me coming back for more and more.

We see a persistent insistence for this "trinity-in-unity" throughout history. It surfaces in spiritual practices, language, design, nature, and culture.

There is an almost unparalleled example of balance found in a three-legged stool. It has informed organizations and institutions for centuries. My daughters' school often refers to the relationship between the school, the student, and parents as the "three-legged stool," and as an optimal educational model.

In many Christian churches there is reference the holy trinity as: Father, son, and Holy Ghost. In Buddhism there is the Trikaya (three bodies) of Dharmakaya, Sambhogakaya, and Nirmanakaya -- which one Buddhist friend explained as Principle, Consciouness, and embodiment.

My own faith tradition, Christian Science, frequently refers to the seven names for God, Principle, Mind, Soul, Spirit, Life, Truth, and Love, in triads: Truth, Life, and Love, or Principle, Mind, Spirit -- for example.

I see it in my daughters' relationships. As twins, there is a dynamic that can move from devotion to indifference in the blink of an eye, when they are alone together. But, add in a third -- a friend to both of them -- and there is such sweetness, creativity, and joy. All competition and comparison seems to disappear as they work together. It seems to bring with it such amazing synchronicity of thought, energy, and desire (another triad by the way).

In Ecclesiastes there is a proverb that reads:

"...a threefold cord is not quickly broken."

I love this. I love thinking of it as both a cord (as in rope or twine), as well as a chord (as in a combination of notes in music). For years I've practiced a spiritual version of three-part harmonies that has helped to strengthen my understanding of God. Recently someone asked me to explain it in a post. So, here goes.

I start with one name for God. Say, Love. I add in a second name. For the purpose of this exercise let's take Principle. Since these terms are synonymous, Love must imply Principle. So, for me that means that when I am loving (as an expression of Love) I must also be orderly, precise, acting in accordance with the laws of nature -- evolving naturally from a core strength, be flexible as well as deeply rooted. And the same for Principle. My expression of orderliness and law, must be kind, compassionate, charitable.

This relationship between Principle and Love is wonderful, it dances in my heart. It bounces back and forth with sweet reciprocity. But that back and forth bouncing can become a bit pendular -- swinging to extremes. That's where the practice of a divine "trinity in unity" is so vital for me.

So, I have this great duet -- a lovely relationship between Love and Principle -- but what happens when I add in a third note to that chord. Again, for the purpose of this exercise, I'm going to choose Spirit. When I add Spirit into the mix something extraordinary happens. Spirit cannot be contained, "bounded, nor compressed within the narrow limits" of a single relationship.

Spirit, like the wind [pneuma] -- that it is named after -- animates, suffuses, and expands the reach of my spiritual practice. Now, my Principle-structured, Love-deepened dance of affection has a new reach and depth. It becomes charity. But it is a charity that is never out of control, because of it's relationship to Principle. It is never selfish because of its grounding in Love, and it radiates outward with each breath of Spirit.

Sometimes I will just spend hours -- between calls, visits, appointments, chauffeuring the girls, and housework -- deepening my understanding of God by exploring different triadic themes and chords within the infinite breadth of His nature.

There are times when I get bolder. I might add in a fourth voice -- a fifth, a sixth, a seventh -- until I have a full choir of Him in my heart. A symphony that is always playing in the universe of Being.

We are never limited. There are an infinite number of names for God, found in countless languages, philosophies, and indigenous cultures. Therefore there is always a chorus of infinite voices singing His name and nature, His power and glory, within us. But for me -- well, I'm a simple girl. I really love those three-part harmonies. They allow me to focus in on the simple sweetness of His presence in my heart.

I offer this with Love...as always,  

Kate

"Pentecost: one people, one Voice..."

"This is the sound of one voice.
One people, one voice.
A song for every one of us.
This is the sound of one voice..."

I can't get enough of the Wailin' Jennys "One Voice" this week.  It speaks to me of something I am seeing for the first time about "the day of Pentecost" in the book of Acts.

The story goes:

"And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place.

"And suddenly there cam a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting.

"And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Sprit gave them utterance.

"Now when this was noised abroad, the mulitude came together, and were confounded, because that every man heard them speak in his own language."

I've always believed this story, but couldn't imagine experiencing it.  But today, I not only expect to experience it, I know that I have...and often.  And I believe that you have too.

Let me explain.

About 20 years ago, I heard socio-anthropologist Jean Houston (I've written about her story before) share an experience she had as a little girl.  According to my recollection, it goes like this:

Jean's father was a comedy skit writer for ventriloquist, Edgar Bergen, and his wooden-headed dummy, Charlie McCarthy.  Going with her father to the Bergen's apartment to play with Charlie (while Edgar and her dad worked on skits) was a big treat for her. 

One Saturday her dad asked her if she would like to go play with Charlie. 

Of course!

So off they go in a taxi to the Bergen's apartment near Central Park.  They take the elevator, unannounced, up to the penthouse doors that are just a hair's breadth ajar.  They can hear Edgar and Charlie in dialogue.  Mr. Houston assumes that Edgar is rehearsing an act, and wants to see how it's going. 

He motions for Jean to stay hushed, pushes the door open a bit more so that they can watch.  There is Edgar in a chair with Charlie on his lap.  But as they listen, they realize that Edgar is not rehearsing a comedy routine, he is asking Charlie all the most important questions of his heart.  "Is there a God?"  "What is my purpose?" "Where is God when bad things happen? 

And Charlie is answering...and he is answering wisely and profoundly.

Houston realizes that they are listening in on a very private "conversation" and clears his voice, announcing his presence.  Edgar jumps and turns.  Houston, trying to diffuse the moment's surface tension with humor, asks, "okay, who's the new writer?"  Edgar meekly replies, "Charlie."  Houston, says, what do you mean, of course, you are the writer, Charlie is just a wooden-headed dummy. And Edgar explains, "You don't understand, when I ask Charlie all the most profound questions in my heart, I have no idea how he is going to answer."

This experience changed the course of Jean Houston's life.  From that moment on, her eyes were open to what she calls "human potentiality," and the depth of the unseen divinity...wisdom, compassion, grace, humor...buried within each heart, mind..."soul." 

And from the first moment I first heard her story...I got it. It changed everything. It changed the way I thought about conversations, prayers, lectures, congregational sharing...everything.  No matter who we call for help, go to hear speak, show up in conversation with, we are only...through the collective experience of being with another or others...giving ourselves the permission to stop what we are doing, and hear the divine voice that is constantly speaking within our own consciousness. 

We just can't imagine that if we stopped, and stood in the silence of our own Christlikeness, we would hear the wisdom of the ages...as it relates to our own unique needs.  And, we would hear it in a language that resonates with our own life experience, cultural context, earnest longings, and where we are in our spiritual journey.   We would hear it in "our own tongue."

Let me give one example before signing off so that I can go into my own "Pentecostal room" for a while.  Okay?

Not long after hearing Jean's story about her dad, Edgar, and Charlie, I answered the phone in my office one night.  The person was in great discomfort.  I agreed to give treatment, but she asked if I could just talk to her a bit.  I listened for inspiration, and the thoughts that came were lovely, and fresh.  So fresh in fact, that I made notes myself on a pad of paper that I always kept by my phone for just that reason. 

We hung up, and she agreed to call me back within the hour.  At that moment I was called away from the office for a few minutes, and when I returned, the phone was ringing.  I answered it, and it was the woman who had called just minutes before. 

She began by telling me that it was a very quick "healing" and that, "When you said, 'da, da, da, da, da...'"  Well, I am sitting there at my desk, looking down at the copious notes that I had taken, and I hadn't said anything that she thought she had heard me say.   But, she had heard, exactly what she needed.

And the more I looked at my notes, the more I realized that what I had "heard" and thought I'd said, was exactly what I needed to hear from God about something I'd been struggling with for some time, but hadn't given myself permission to stop what I was doing for others, and pray about for myself.

Her reaching out to me, and me showing up in the office and picking up her call, was just the permission that we'd each given ourselves to stop and listen for spiritual guidance and inspiration.  And the only Voice that answers that call, is the Holy Ghost, the Spirit...and it is always answering from within.

I believe that on the day of Pentecost, everyone in that room was earnestly longing for inspiration, guidance, comfort in the face of Jesus' crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension...and what it all meant to the future of this new community of "believers."  They heard in their own hearts, the language of their heart...and spoke out from that language those healing, transformative messages that were meaningful to each of them.

Each time I turn to God, with my entire being, for answers...whether it is in the privacy of my own home, taking a call from a friend, in community at a lecture or talk, or as a part of a collective readership nurtured by an inspired text...it is a Pentecostal moment.  We will each hear from God, what we need to hear, in our own tongue.

Back into the quiet sanctuary of earnest longings...with Love,  
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

If you would like to hear "One Voice" in a recorded quality (with lyrics), rather than the video of the live performance (above)...here is the link.

And if you would like to read an earlier post titled"This is the sound of one voice..." which also uses "One Voice," as its keynote...here is the link to that post.

"Heaven when we're home..."

"..And something tells me
that there must be something
better than all this..."

I love listening to the Wailin' Jennys' "Heaven When We're Home,"* for all the obvious reasons...and then, for some reasons that may not be so nakedly clear. 

I've realized recently that, in the past, I've had a tendency towards dragging my baggage around searching for the perfect place to drop it.  But more often than I want to admit, the baggage I've been dragging around, close behind me, is not filled with the precious artifacts of a life well-lived...as I've always thought.  No, as much as I'd like to think I'm toting around time-softened antique quilts and hand-rubbed leather-bound first edition volumes of the classics, what I've really got in there is a mixture of metaphorical pulp fiction and a tattered old chenille bedspread stained with tears and ink. 

So what is this piece all about?  Not sure yet.  But, I think what I heard in my heart while listening to this song again this morning, were the first strains of a travelin' song...the kind of song that moves you forward when you are really just shuffling your feet.

It all started as I loaded my heavier-than-I'd-like carry on bag, and tote bag (filled with books, knitting, journal and, yes, a Chocolove's Sea Salt and Almonds in dark chocolate bar for the road) into the rental car after a wonderful weekend at camp.  A weekend teeming with over 250 teens and adult volunteers together for the Discovery Bound Leadership Conference gathered to explore the real qualities of a spiritual leader.  It was dark as I left in the wee small in between hours of a hushed crowd.   And I watched the soft violet dawning of a brand new day, as I headed east towards Denver International Airport.  Yup, just me and my baggage on a quiet drive through the Rockies, and across the Front Range.

After dropping off the rental car, I pulled the darned things into, and out of, the shuttle van, across the vast travertine of the main terminal, through the security checkpoints (at which time I unloaded little bits and pieces for scrutiny and re-packing), and down the concourse where I searched for a place to rest my weary head...and body...until it was time to board. 

I located a long row of seats that, thanks to my less than statuesque frame, would serve as a makeshift couch for napping (as long as I could twist myself into a pretzel-like shape...grateful for years of dance and yoga.)  Hmmm, I think, this is all looking quite promising, until I notice the luggage and totebag I've been dragging behind me. 

And, in light of the constant reminders about the heightened holiday travel security...warnings pouring through the airport's sound system...I realize that "leaving my baggage unattended" could result in untoward consequences.  So, I am pretty sure that falling asleep in front of your bags would be considered leaving them unattended.   In that case, I decide to put my suitcase on the seat next to me as a pillow of sorts...a very uncomfortable pillow I might add...and use my tote as something I can wrap my arms around like a child's teddy bear, and in this very uncomfortable position,  I try to rest. 

But I am resting on my baggage.  In fact, I am embracing my baggage.   I want to fall sleep on my baggage.  That's just one, too perfect, a metaphor!  But I can't.  At first I am pretty cranky about the situation.  And then, since I am clearly awake and not going to drift off into dreamland, I start to unpack the metaphor...with the help of the Jennys' song, now playing in my head. 

I realize that in order to stop dragging around my life's baggage, I have to leave it "unattended."  I have to unzip it, take out what is purposeful in helping others, and let the true source of my security, God, confiscate and destroy the rest. 

But to begin, I do have to leave it unattended. 

The word "attend" comes from the Latin root "attento" to wait for or expectation of, and is a cousin of the French "attendre" which means "to listen to, to pay attention, or give ear to."  Well, I have been attending to...paying attention to...my scuffed up baggage for way too long.  I've been dragging it around behind me, taking out little bits and pieces only long enough...and in small enough portions...to barely get me through to the next level of security clearance.  I am so focused on my journey...towards finding the "right" place to finally unpack it all and hang it on the walls of the next perfect home.  An imagined place where, I believe, what is my old junk, will somehow be transformed into the precious artifacts and antiques I imagine they could become...precious and worthy of hanging on to.  Ahh,  if only I could put them in the right setting.

But, a tattered and ink-stained bedspread will never be a hand-crafted quilt stitched together from vintage fabrics, once pieced together by a loving hand. And a dog-eared copy of hastily written pulp fiction, will never be a gold-leafed volume of love sonnets wrapped calfskin. 

Trying to rest on my old, carefully attended to baggage, has only given me a sore neck and made me want to get up and wander the concourse, looking for the next perfect place to try and rest again. 

I can't help but think of Mary Baker Eddy's "An Allegory" about a a traveler and his "baggage" which can be found in in her Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896 (starting on page 323).  I chuckle to think how often I have read this with book in one hand while dragging my baggage with the other.  Especially the part that reads:

"Despairing of gaining the summit, loaded as they are, they conclude to stop and lay down a few of the heavy weights, -- but only to take them up again, more than ever determined not to part with their baggage."

It is time for me to leave my baggage un-attended...period.  To first salvage all that is good and useful from within, to responsibly report it to security myself, to let Love confiscate its no-longer-useful contents, to trust that they will be properly discarded, and finally, with Love's blessings, to walk away unscathed, unfettered, unscarred, and unburdened by what I would never find the right setting for anyway.  Realizing then, and there, that I was already happily, gratefully, wonderfully at home...within.

"It's a long and rugged road,
and we don't now where it's headed,
but we know it's going to get us where we're going.
And when we find what we're looking for,
we'll drop these bags, and search no more,
'cause it's going to feel like heaven when we're home..."

So, these were the thoughts that kept me company...poking, probing, sometimes less-than-comfortable company in Terminal A this morning.  I will be unpacking these thoughts for a while I think. 

But tonight as I actually unpacked my suitcase and tote, I realized that I had not used even 80% of what I'd taken with me.  I'd spent four days dragging around "stuff" that had never been worn, read, written in, or used...and I'd had a most wonderfully purposeful and inspiring weekend.  Just sayin'....

Thanks Sam, for getting me to listen "Heaven When We're Home"...over and over again...I love that it makes me think...
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

*I know that some of this song's lyrics may not be across-the-board consistent with what I believe to be true...but the core message of letting go and moving forward is giving me so much to think about...and I love that.

"this is the sound of one voice..."

"This is the sound of one voice
One spirit, one voice
The sound of the One who makes the choice
This is the sound of one voice..."

We often feel that we are so alone in the thoughts we think.  That what we care about...our hopes, dreams, values, and visions...are our own.  But what if this song by the Wailing Jennys, "One Voice," is the truth of our one being, founded and grounded in one Spirit.  This one Spirit is the sweet wind that blows through us making music grand and gentle.

"...This is the sound of voices two
The sound of me singing with you
Helping each other to make it through
This is the sound of voices two..."

I've often wondered why we long for companionship.  Why the Bible promises that God, "setteth the solitary in families."  If we are already united in the oneness of Spirit, why do we hunger for this two-ness? 

For me, it boils down to consistency of being.  Whether it is in a marriage, or an enduring friendship...parenting a child or a lifetime of sharing memories as siblings...these one-on-one relationships serve as a window on the consistency of our progress as patient, kind, compassionate, nonjudgmental selflessness beings.  It is one thing to be kind to a stranger or an acquaintance in a moment of inspiration...but to be consistently kind to our husband, sister, best friend, daughter...this is something quite divine.  

"...This is the sound of voices three
Singing together in harmony
Surrendering to the mystery
This is the sound of voices three..."

Sharing our love with another is pure joy.  Staring into the eyes of our beloved, or communing with a bestest and dearest friend is sweet bliss.  But opening the arms of that precious relationship to include another...a child, a new friend, someone in need... expands our reach.  Or as the Bible says, it "enlarges the place of thy tent;...stretches forth the curtains of thine habitations: spares not, lengthens thy cords, and strengthens thy stakes..."  Our stake in humanity...our humanity...is strengthened when we selflessly share someone we love with another someone.

I saw this so clearly earlier this summer at camp.  Our twins, Emma and Clara, share everything. They love eachother so devotedly.  They live, sleep, play, learn, travel, and work together all year long. They share many good friends, but there is always a sense of their oneness...within the context of any friendship.  But this summer they opened their arms to include their cousin Tatiana.  There were so many times when I would catch sight of Emma (or Clara) with Tati, while Clara (or Emma) engaged in other activities, Or sometimes, it was both girls with Tati, and there was such a deep sense of inclusiveness that you could actually see it in their eyes, their body language..hear it in their laughter.  This opening up of their love for one another to include Tati was beautiful to see.

"...This is the sound of all of us
Singing with love and the will to trust
Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust
This is the sound of all of us..."

No matter how many are within the tent, we are not just individual tents...nomadic tribes in a searing vast desert of unrealized human hopes and broken dreams...huddling around our family fires in sympathy with one another, and for solace.  We are a village with a great Father who loves us, and is leading us all in a rising song of harmony, joy, and unity. 

Our dreams are shared dreams, and they are supported, sustained, and realized by our one hope to live together in peace and unity...fellowship and cooperation. We are not isolated, solitary, self-determined mortals who must look out for ourselves, or be left to starve in the desert.  We are one spiritual family caring for one another's needs, cherishing eachother's dreams, looking for opportunities to enlarge the place of our tent by taking another in and feeding him at our table piled high with love.

"...This is the sound of one voice
One people, one voice
A song for every one of us
This is the sound of one voice
This is the sound of one voice..."

This is the sound of one voice because that one voice...echoing through the chambers of memory and expectation...is God's.  And each of us can pick up the tone, rhythm, and melody of that divine voice and join in a song of:

"Pure humanity, friendship, home, the interchange of love, [which] bring to earth a foretaste of heaven. They unite terrestrial and celestial joys, and crown them with blessings infinite." 
- Mary Baker Eddy

Listen carefully and you will hear its soft strains...of Love...

with love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

[photo credit:  Christian Hagenlocher 2009]