"Just as long, as you stand by me…"

"If the sky that we look upon
should tumble and fall,
all the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, 
no I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

Whenever you're in trouble
won't you stand by me,
oh stand by me,
stand by me,
stand by me..."
- Ben E. King

Disclaimer: I am re-posting this piece, as much because I want to share the above photo, as the following message. Today I've been humming the song "Stand By Me," and I can't hear it, without thinking of the girls.

Have you ever raised a pair of kittens from the same litter?  They can be curled up together and purring one moment, then pouncing on each other, rolling across the floor, hissing and snarling, the next!  

 Weekends at our house are sometimes like that.  Emma and Clara, our almost eleven-year-old twins [at the time of this writing], are like a pair of kittens.  They are at the same time one another's best friend and the other's most reliable opponent in board games, rodeo events, soccer scrimmages, and every race for the front seat of the car.  

When the decibel level in the house gets particularly high, and emotions run hot, I remember that these are the same two little girls, who - as babies - had to be close enough to be touching when they slept.  Even today Clara sleeps with her head at the foot of her bed so that she is closer to Emma's bed through the night. 

I have learned so much about identity and love from these two amazing little women.  From the moment I first saw them it was clear that - although they were absolutely identical visually, they were -- and are -- very, very individual in every other way.   And yet, there has never been any sense of opposites to their natures.  No good twin, bad twin.  Outgoing twin, shy twin.  Athletic twin, clumsy twin.  Never.  Their natures have been complementary -- not opposite. 

I think it is the same way that God's nature -- as Love -- is not balanced through a battle of strength and weakness.  But through the complementary qualities of strength and flexibility.

 And in the same way, the girls' natures have complemented - not opposed - one another from the start.  While Emma's lively, sparkly approach to each moment almost redefines the word "happy," Clara's deep, settled sense of being is the very expression of "joy." 

One is a rapidly flowing mountain river while the other is the deep, wide, langorous Mississippi.  And as they have matured, I am noticing that they have discovered the other's gifts, in themselves. 

When they were little, Emma was known for her gifts of speed and deftness, while Clara brought a thoughtfulness and care to the planning and execution of any project they shared. But today I see those qualities flowing more freely between them.  Working together, they have learned to bring a greater sense of balance to the interests and projects they share.  

They learned, that in any given moment they may be asked to switch roles within their partnership.  When needed, it is Clara that brings the deftness and agility, while Emma brings depth of consideration.  And there are moments, when one's sense of order, is complemented by the other's spontaneity.  

It is not order balanced by chaos, or strength balanced by weakness, but good balancing good -- different facets of the same brilliant, light-filled diamond.

Being with them -- and learning from their example -- I have discovered that I can expect this same sense of balance in myself and others.  

Individually -- and collectively -- we are not a mass of conflicting opposites, but complementary qualities, natures, and talents.  

 Within each of us is the twin natures of strength and flexibility -- never weakness.  Joy and sobriety -- not sorrow.  Compassion and wisdom -- not cruelty.  Hope and practicality -- not pessimism.  Beauty and simplicity -- not ugliness.  Grace and structure -- not clumsiness.  

We live as full-spectrum spiritual ideas -- individually and in community.  Our complementary natures stand side-by-side -- within us -- strengthening our core sense of being. And these complimentary qualities challenge one another.  They say, "come on, let's shine brilliantly and do our best -- together. 

Strength, kisses flexibility, and says, "Yes, we are different, but we are both good."  Always - and only - good.  God made us that way.  By being together, they've learned that they are each complete -- within.  They will take this with them wherever they go -- together or alone.

Just one of the lessons I've learned from my sweet little kittens.

I am so blessed to have had them as teachers.  And I am so grateful to be their mom,

Kate

"If you lose the moon, then be a star…."

"If you lose the moon,
then be a star.
It's not what you have,
it's who you are..."

It's the first weekend in May. It's the Kentucky Derby. And every first Saturday in May, I remember - again - what it all means to me. It's been decades since I discovered that a horse could inspire a girl to not give up. I love the song, "It's Who You Are" from the Disney film "Secretariat," for that very reason.

As a girl - and young woman - the legends of horses like National Velvet, Seabiscuit, Secretariat, and Seattle Slew, were the kind of stories I clung to each time my world fell apart. These were horses that -- early on -- were marginalized and dismissed by the elite horse racing community. And yet, each one rose from obscurity to become who they were meant to be.

As a child, I thought my circumstances destined me to be less. Not less than someone else, just less -- in every way. I thought that only girls who came from families of privilege and opportunity had promise -- would go to the right schools, marry good and kind men, and become women on note -- women who would make a difference in the world.

I didn't want to be wealthy or famous, I just wanted make a difference. But the cavernous yawning I perceived between my family's means and my hopes, seemed insurmountable.

And then I started reading books about dogs and horses who were given the opportunity to rise above their early starts in life, when someone believed in them, and gave them a chance to prove their worth.

I loved these stories.  I devoured them. But I didn't know how to find someone to believe in me. And it didn't help that for many years, I didn't even believe in myself. 

But reading -- and hearing about -- these courageous creatures gave me hope, courage, and confidence during many dark days when I felt like giving up on my dreams. And the more I started believing in their stories, the more I gave myself the right to believe that it might be possible for me to make a difference in the world, too.  

And when I opened my heart to that possibility, I started to see that I did have people in my life who cared.  Teachers, mentors, family members, counselors, neighbors, co-workers, friends who were willing to encourage me when my belief in myself faltered.

I began to look at myself as a spiritual being -- not a collection of circumstantial human evidence.  I started to explore what it meant to be the image and likeness of God.

What would life be like if it were true that we each (and all) have the fullness of God's goodness to work with. There would be no creature on earth who is "less." I started to see that how we look at ourselves -- and others -- can make all the difference in what we believe is possible. We just have to know where to start, as Paul says, in "running the race that is set before us…" That point of departure was the key.

In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy says:

"The starting point
of divine Science is,
that God, Spirit is All-in-all,
and there is no other might..."

The word "might" doesn't just mean power, but also possibility. As in, "what might happen…" When seeing the All-ness of God's goodness -- in all of His creation -- is our starting point, the possibilities for each of us is limitless.

And in this All-in-allness, there is no "less." No lesser being, no lesser potential, no lesser starting point. 

This spiritual potentiality is not based on human circumstances -- socio-economic opportunity, breeding, early education, geographic predictions, genetics, birth order, race, gender -- but on our eternal oneness with the Source of all good, God.

We have a little puppy.  We love her with all our hearts.  And when I look at Tessie, I am reminded of how silly any limitations on our potentiality really are. 

Tessie was an extremely tiny puppy. She was not able to fend for herself among her littermates and needed to extra care.  She wasn't doing well and wasn't expected to thrive.  When we took her into our home as a foster puppy we had no idea our limitless her abilities were.

Who could have imagined that a rejected one-and-a-half pound puppy would make the kind of extraordinary difference in our home, that she has. Who would have thought that she would inspire each of us to be kinder, gentler, less selfish, and more loving -- more of who we were meant to be.

Each of us -- as spiritual beings -- has the fullness of infinite individuality to draw upon as we explore our divine purpose and potentiality. 

We don't have to become famous to make a difference in the world.  We only need to become ourselves.  We can be wonderful, amazing, extraordinary men, women, children, horses, dogs and creatures with divine purposes that are written on our hearts. We can become magnificently compassionate -- remarkable for our ability to recognize the good in others and celebrate their beauty and the bounty of their spiritual gifts. We can be notably humble, full of grace, abundantly kind.

We can learn from each other, and inspire one another. If we are willing to open our hearts -- and our eyes -- we can find encouragement in all of creation. We can learn to let ourselves blossom into the fullness of God's holy purpose for us.  Not because we are ambitious, but just because it's who we are. It's simply who God needs us to be -- His Allness, in all. 

This year it's a horse named California Chrome that is inspiring me to see that the right starting point allows us to run the race that is set before us with confidence and grace. 

offered with love,


Kate


[photo credits: Clara and Tessie by Emma / Emma and Tessie by Clara]

"Free to be...you and me..."

"…Every boy in this land grows to be his own man
In this land, every girl grows to be her own woman
Take my hand, come with me where the children are free
Come with me, take my hand, and we'll run

To a land where the river runs free
To a land through the green country
To a land to a shining sea
To a land where the horses run free
To a land where the children are free
And you and me are free to be
And you and me are free to be
And you and me are free to be you and me"
-     The New Seekers

I was a new teacher with my very own class of 6 to 8 year old little boys who had been institutionalized for developmental disabilities.  I was hopeful and eager.  I couldn't wait to make a difference.  It didn't matter one bit to me that only one of my guys could speak in full sentences and only three were out of diapers.  I was a TEACHER!!  It was the only profession, outside of motherhood (and someday being a civil rights attorney), that I had ever aspired to. 

From the time I was 10 years old with five younger siblings I was, in my spare time, "Mrs. French" (okay, sidenote:  there was a little boy in my fifth grade class whose last name was French and I thought it meant he was French, which seemed soooo cool, so I stole his last name for my teacher-self).  Mrs. French would make all her siblings (who were young enough to think she was really a teacher just because she said she was) sit on the floor in her bedroom and learn to count and add.   Mrs. French would read "Green Eggs and Ham" out loud with Oscar-deserving expressed animation.  Mrs. French would prepare little sandwiches for her students to eat in the "lunch room".  Mrs. French was firm, but nice.  In my mind, Mrs. French was "practically perfect in every way"…or so she thought her students thought her to be.

By the time I finally became a teacher I had an arsenal of Mary Poppins-like tricks stored up my sleeves.  I had years of hopes and expectations for my "someday" students.   I had more than a life-time of dreaming about blackboards and chalk, Dr. Seuss and Curious George, practiced Palmer-method penmanship and hand-made grade books filled with A- and C+s perfectly written in little graph-paper boxes.

But my new classroom of boys weren't able to sit down long enough for even one page of the antics of a monkey named George, and they would never take home a report card filled with hard-earned letter grades and glowing narratives. These little boys (and their little girl counterparts in a neighboring building) would never leave the institution their parents had committed them to.  These children might learn to make eye-contact and eat properly with a spork, but they were not expected to ever be trusted with pencils and chalk…much less handle a book with gentle respect.

My first few days were harrowing.  I carefully edged myself along the cinderblock walls that lined our classroom, keeping everyone, and everything, in sight.  A randomly hurled chair had landed my predecessor in the hospital for months and I didn't have any desire to start collecting disability at 21 years old.   

One day into the second or third week, I suddenly realized that when I sang hymns to myself (in order to calm my own fears) they calmed down too.  And then I noticed that they really liked the soft scent of the baby powder I wore and would gather around me each morning...not to bump into me mindlessly, but because they wanted to be near me...I started to look forward to my days with them.  Yes, they were as scattered and un-focused as baby chicks in a barnyard.  But they were sweet and eager to please and there were so many things they needed to learn just in order to live in-community with one another and the staff that cared for them.  It wasn't long before I knew that I had to let go of every starry-eyed image of what I thought my life as a teacher would be like, or I would never be able to fully embrace the class that I had been given.

My professional goals for myself as a teacher, however, stayed the same.  I would be consistent, calm, persistent, joyful, and enthusiastic about the curriculum.  I would be respectful, kind, fair and honest with my colleagues.  I would be innovative, inspired, thoughtful and creative in my use of learning tools and materials.  I would be expectant, patient, understanding, honest, loving and clear with my students.  I would teach according to their learning…not expect them to learn according to my teaching.  I would participate in a student-centric learning environment…rather than a teacher driven one.   All that really changed was what I thought the outcomes had to look like. 

When I let go of academic milestones like "counting to 10, sounding out all consonants phoenetically, and completing a 10 piece puzzle in less than three minutes", and accepted new milestones like "was able to let go of anger, did not become frustrated with himself, allowed himself to be helped"…I became the kind of teacher I didn't even know I could hope to become.

I spent my early teaching career in one classroom after another within this institution working with a full range of developmentally challenged children.  In each setting my goals and expectations for myself as a teacher never changed…they evolved…but never changed.

When a cross-country move necessitated a change in schools, I left with a heavy heart.  I had learned to love teaching in a way I never imagined.  My next teaching assignment was with high functioning gifted and talents students.  But my goals and expectations for myself, as a teacher, never changed. 

"Free to Be - You and Me" (I hope this link is a fun trip down memory lane for some of you) was an album I would play every morning in those early days of teaching my little group of 6 through 8 year old boys.  I would sing and dance around the classroom like a butterfly, a bouncy "Tigger", a wood sprite, a crazy bumble bee, or a silly bear before we started our long days of repeating simple tasks hundreds of times over and over again.  It's lyrics would remind me that there isn't just one way to be…there are hundreds of thousands, millions and zillions of way to be.  My job was to help them discover the best "me" they could be that day.  It was as much the same for my little guys who were learning to hold a spoon, as it was for my gifted students who were taking college prep calculus courses in the 5th grade.  

This is still my favorite thing to do…
Kate

"Stand by me..."

"If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
All the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

Whenever you're in trouble
won't you stand by me,
oh stand by me
stand by me
stand by me..."
- Ben E. King

Have you ever raised a pair of kittens from the same litter?  They can be curled up together and purring one moment, then pouncing on each other and rolling across the floor, hissing and snarling the next…all day long!  Weekends at our house are like that.  Emma and Clara, our almost eleven-year-old twins, are like a pair of kittens.  They are, at the same time, one another's best friend and the other's most reliable opponent in board games, soccer scrimmages, and any race for the front seat of the car.  

When the decibel level in the house gets particularly high and emotions run hot I remember that these are the same two little girls, who as babies,  had to be close enough to be touching when they slept.  Even today Clara sleeps with her head at the foot of her bed so that she is closer to Emma's bed through the night. 

I have learned so much about identity and love from these two amazing little women.  From the moment I first saw them it was clear that although they were absolutely identical visually they were...and are...very, very individual in every other way.   And although they are each so uniquely individual, there has never been a sense of opposites in their natures.  No good twin, bad twin.  Outgoing twin, shy twin.  Athletic twin, clumsy twin.  Never.  Their natures have been complementary…not opposite. 

In just the same way that the nature of God as Love is not balanced by strength and weakness, but by strength and flexibility, so the girls' natures have complemented...not opposed...one another from the start.  While Emma's lively, sparkly approach to each moment defines the word "happy", Clara's deep, settled sense of being is the very expression of "joy". One is a rapidly flowing mountain river while the other is the deep, wide, langorous Mississippi. In the same instance that Emma is contributing her gifts of speed and deftness to any project, Clara's thoughtfulness and care in planning and executing steps, brings great balance to their work together.  And in any given moment they switch roles within their partnership.  Clara brings the deftness and agility and Emma brings depth of consideration.  One's sense of order is complemented by the other's spontaneity.  It is not order balanced by chaos, or strength balanced by weakness, but good balancing good….just different facets of the same brilliant diamond full of light.

I have learned that I can expect this same sense of balance in myself, and others.  We are not a mass of conflicting opposites…but of complementary qualities.  Within each of us is the twin natures of strength and flexibility…not weakness, joy and sobriety…not sorrow, compassion and wisdom…not cruelty, hope and practicality…not pessimism, beauty and simplicity…not ugliness, grace and structure…not clumsiness.  We live as full-spectrum spiritual ideas, within ourselves...and in community.  Our complementary natures stand side-by-side...within us...strengthening, encouraging, and yes, somedays challenging one another to "bring it on", shine brilliantly and do your best. 

Strength kisses flexibility and says, "we are different, but we are both good"….always, and only, good.

I've learned this from my sweet little kittens. 
Kate

"We are one person..."

"...They are one person,
they are two alone,
they are three together,
they are for each other..."
- Stephen Stills

I love CSN's song "Helplessly Hoping." In the 1993 film Phenomenon John Travolta is transformed by a paranormal experience that increases his perspicacity.  He becomes a voracious reader with a hunger for information that is insatiable.  Sharing insights from the booth at a country fair he expounds on a fact that has his character animated with fascination. 

He explains that for many years scientists believed that an aspen grove near the Continental Divine in Western Colorado was a sea of individual trees.  Tens of thousands of willowy, delicate populas tremula stetching down the ravine, across a high country meadow and along the ridge at tree-line as far as you can see.   But in 1992 scientists discovered that it was one organism.

I had to know if this was just great film writing, or if it was true.  My research led me on a journey through scientific journals and academic papers, magazines and newspapers that confirmed the screenwriter's research.  One source reported  "Many people think when they're hiking through the mountains that they're hiking through an aspen forest, but in many cases what they're hiking through is aspen clones," says Dr. Jeffry Mitton of the University of Colorado. Along with two colleagues, Dr. Michael Grant and Dr. Yan Linhart, he nominated the system of cloned aspens as the world's biggest organism in a letter in the Nov. 19 issue of Nature. Common Root System

"If you could look into the soil and trace the roots of all these things that look like independent trees," Dr. Mitton said, "you would find that they are in fact connected by a common root system, like the leaves on a silver maple tree are connected by the branches and the main stem." As the organism sends out its roots, he explained, it also sends up new sprouts, called ramets.

The result, he said, is a single organism "that can literally climb over mountains and across meadows." (New York Times Dec. 15 1992)

This information stunned me in the most wonderful way.  It was the perfect illustration of something I had been pondering all summer…the nature of individuality.  The word "individual" comes from the root "in (not) divided".  But how often do we think that our individuality is found only in what makes us different from one another…what separates us.  But I was discovering that the root of our spiritual individuality is our indivisibility from our divine source, our wholeness…the root system. 

Just like each tree in the aspen grove, from above ground, seems to be an autonomous entity, but is in fact just a branch or offshoot of the source root system, so do we seem to be autonomous entitites with personal histories, proclivities, wills, impulses, and trajectories.   But are we really?  I am convinced that this is just a "surface" corporeal (or skin-defined) sense of what constitutes our individuality. 

Could it be that we are really just one undivided entity?  One divine whole.  With God, Mind, the source of all consciousness,  as our singular root system.  Could it be that it is only as we allow a very fine layer of dermis (skin) to convince us that everything inside that layer of skin is "me" (or you) and everything outside of this same layer of skin cells is not me (or you)…is something outside of our individual selfhood, or ego that we feel this separateness and isolation from one another. 

But, what if what we "are" is what is included in our consciousness, what we include in our thought, what we love,  embrace in our hearts.  And what if this is loving is impelled by a self-assertive Mind that is God.    What if what we call "free will" is really only an indication of how intimately near that Mind that is God is within our own being as consciousness? 

Perhaps we really are…

"…one person
…two alone
…three together
for eachother…"

It reminds me of the Biblical admonition,

"For as the body is one, and hath many members,
and all the members of that one body,
being many, are one body:
so also is Christ.
For the body is not one member, but many. 

If the foot shall say,
Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body;
is it therefore not of the body? 
And if the ear shall say,
Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body;
is it therefore not of the body? 
If the whole body were an eye,
where were the hearing?
If the whole were hearing,
where were the smelling? 

But now hath God set the members
every one of them in the body,
as it hath pleased him. 

And if they were all one member,
where were the body? 

But now are they many members,
yet but one body. 
And the eye cannot say unto the hand,
I have no need of thee:
nor again the head to the feet,
I have no need of you. 

Nay, much more those members of the body,
which seem to be more feeble, are necessary: 
And those members of the body,
which we think to be less honourable,
upon these we bestow more abundant honour;
and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness. 
For our comely parts have no need:
but God hath tempered the body together,
having given more abundant honour to that part which lacked: 
That there should be no schism in the body;
but that the members should have the same care one for another. 
And whether one member suffer,
all the members suffer with it;
or one member be honoured,
all the members rejoice with it. 
Now ye are the body of Christ..."

To me this means that we are all the same.  We all reflect the wholeness of the original.  We can all do EVERYTHING, but we have, in each moment been assigned an office, a task, a calling...sometimes honorable, sometimes comely, sometimes I may seem to be lacking, but in that lack I may give another the opportunity to be more abundant, generous, giving...and sometimes we may find ourselves humbled that another may discover their capacity for mercy or forgiveness.  

One "moment" I may be the foot of the body of Christ, another the hand, another the heart…but I, you, everyone…we are each, and all, wholly equipped as the full and complete offshoot of the rootsystem, capable of anything and everything that the rootsystem gives each of its offshoots the capacity to do, and to be. 

My individuality is not in my differences from you, or anyone else…my individuality is defined by my undivided-ness from the original…the root system.  My identity is discovered in my identical-ness with the Source…but then so is yours.

"...We are one person,
We are two alone,
We are three together
We are for eachother…"

Or, at least,  shouldn't we be…
Kate