First of all, Happy Labor Day everyone! I’m feeling gratitude for the ancestors who fought for child labor to become outlawed and for legal rights to safe working conditions for all workers. Mary Harris ”Mother” Jones, an activist for children’s and women’s rights in the mid-1800’s was one of these ancestors and she was known for saying, “Pray for the dead, and fight like hell for the living!” The labor movement was powerful, but this is not to say these rights are protected for everyone on this land today – we still have work to do! I’ve heard too many recent stories from early childhood educators whose willingness to show up for children and families is exploited on a daily basis. Please take care of yourselves and each other and let’s continue to advocate.
And now for the September blog. Angela Carolina and I will continue the practice of taking turns writing to you this year…Over the weekend I went to a community walk in my beloved city. Recently there have been a series of ruptures in the neighborhood where we walked together. While the ruptures have shape shifted a bit, they are not a new phenomenon – they’ve been happening as early as the 80’s when I was a child growing up here. There are systems much larger than our small city that reinforce the conditions that lead to ruptures like ours everywhere.
As we walked there was a steady flow of serve and return as dear ones turned to smile at one another and strangers initiated conversations. I learned a lot about what happened during the eight years that I was gone, and I also got to feel with my nervous system where we’re at now. I got to hear about ways families are more connected with the resources they need than they were when I left. I also got to hear one man’s story of recovery and how spiritual devotion intervened at a crucial moment and continues to keep him going. We have very different spiritual practices and worldviews but I felt the universality of what he was saying. I was reminded of one of my favorite things about our city which is resilience in a willingness to keep coming back. To not give up, but to come together when conditions cause pain.
As I was getting ready to head home I felt something poking my ankle. I looked down to see a prickly seed pod that had sunk its thorns into my pant leg. I thought, nature is so tricky like that, finding opportunities to move seeds with thorny pods. It made me think about the “seeds” of society or community that ride along with us on a daily basis. Do we notice when they grab hold? When they eventually poke us, what do we do with them? Do we just drop the seed wherever we discover it just to propagate more without our conscious consent? How often do we just leave it for someone else to handle? Or do we pause to look and see what it is that was uncomfortable, call upon our ancestors and/or higher power for guidance about where or not to plant it? What are the conditions that make conscious discernment possible?
I keep coming back to devotion. I went on pilgrimage to Arunachala in India last February with some of my teachers. Devotion was a clear part of that journey and part of me hesitated to step into that fully. This question of, will I lose myself if I am devoted fully to something else? So far, what I’ve learned is that what I had to lose – a feeling of separateness, it turns out – was worth it. I find myself circling back to a recurring theme in my life – going deeper in feeling connected to others who practice devotion, even when we use different words for it. Even when we do different things with it. Something notable about this time around is that it’s supporting me to sit with dichotomy more wholly. I’m still exploring my devotion and I suppose I will for the rest of my life – what I choose to devote myself to, how I practice it, and the medicine it has to offer myself and others. And I’m wondering – are we all devoted to something with or without our choosing? If we are not devoted to something of our choosing – whether it’s a higher power, the wellbeing of children, promoting love – are we unconsciously devoted to something else? After almost two seasons of talking with caregivers for Sacred: Reclaiming Intuitive Teaching and Caregiving Relationships I feel more curious about the devotion – conscious or unconscious – that guides us when we feel the thorns of that seed pod, and that keeps us coming back to this sacred work.
With love and gratitude,
LaurenWhat is epizoochory? “…zoochorous plants usually use two dispersal mechanisms known as epizoochory, where seeds are carried on the fur of vertebrate animals through the use of stiff hairs, adhesive mucus, hooks, spines or barbs? https://www.learnseedsaving.com/seed-dispersal/