How do you like my new stretchy layout?

I've chosen a new template - I will do some customization of it, but I'm wondering how you like it so far. The main difference is that the main column isn't a fixed width, which allows for bigger photos / slide shows to be embedded.

I think the text font and size are pretty much the same as my old format. Is the text readable enough?

Do I need a photo or design behind the title?

Here's the slide show I couldn't figure out for last year's fourth of July photos (refresh the page to restart the slide show):

Magical May Day Merriment in Minneapolis

I love my city, though I don't always remember this.  Last weekend was the annual MayDay Parade and Pageant, orchestrated by the Powderhorn Heart of the Beast Puppet Theater.  A community-based event, this is 1970s hippydom come mature, embracing the diversity of the core city.  It is also a renaissance of ancient, earth-based celebrations such as Beltane - modernized to take in contemporary issues and visions.

I'm trying an experiment with putting in a slide show of the parade and the later Powderhorn Park pageant and festival.

Parade first (refresh the page to start the slide show):


Cool! That seems to work!

In the park, it was a festive atmosphere as I threaded my way through the throngs of people, and found a spot on the hillside to watch the pageant. The best view was from high in the tree ahead of us, but I could see what was happening. The drama was more mythic than some years, and less political: the burdened people (coming in with huge rocks on their backs, while the narrators shouted out in Spanish and English all of the negativity that we carry in our heads) were transformed/released by some bird-headed figures, then the forces of nature (river, woods, plains, and sky) along with the Tree of Life, welcomed back the sun - which arrived in a red canoe, paddling to the drumbeats. Before the sun's return, the Tree of Life did a lovely pavane with the figure of death, gave herself in to dying - then was raised anew in her summer splendor.

The rest of the photos are the festival after the pageant, as I moved back through the happy folks, looking at food booths and cause booths and displays on the grass and many, many people. (Again, refresh the page to restart.)



At the end, I walked many blocks to my car (past the flowering yards of the Powderhorn neighborhood) and did a photo of my shadow.

From MayDay Pageant at Powderhorn

A long, and magical day.

More blossoming trees - what do we need to bloom?

I have had a very reflective weekend (in addition to getting some quality-length naps).  On Thursday, on the way to work, I found a new crop of flowering trees - crab apples, I guess, with a rich, deep color and very sweet smell.  They must have just popped out in bloom.

Lilacs are starting up too - it's been slow and easy in the past couple of cooler, rainy days.

None of this has happened before in April here in the north-lands, in my recollection.  But even though it raises fears of global warming, this mild month of early, slow, exquisite spring has been a blessing.  Previous springs have seemed to flash by in a week's time.

Now - what will it take for us to bloom?  For me to bloom?

Flowering trees - spring bursting out in blossom

I wrote a little post this morning in my pocket-sized notebook as I rode on the bus - but left it at work.  (I'll try to retrieve it tomorrow and add it below.)  The first shot (from my phone camera) was out the window of the bus, as I watched in amazement all of the blossoming trees lining the city streets.  It seems this just happened overnight!  Or I haven't been paying attention.

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The morning post: The trees have been leafing out and budding for two weeks - many still half-emerged, as cool nights have slowed what in "normal" May springs seems to take about three days in total.  This slower pace allows me to notice and marvel at each new manifestation - yesterday, a swath of royal red tulips along the sidewalk on the way to the student health center, where I do yoga on Mondays.  They were glowing with life's intensity, each quite perfect and fresh, no sagging yet of any petaled cup.  I longed for my camera, but didn't have it.  (See camera photo below taken the next day.)

Internal weather: not as spring-y.  I attended a talk by two university V.P.s on the attitudes and approaches we need for the "new normal" of unending fiscal emergency.  We're not alone, they assured us.  We need to reinvent the university continually by unleasing creativity, by constantly asking we we do things as we do.  But - this group was the choir they were preaching to - a joint meeting of grass-roots profssionals (communicators and project managers) who are working for personal and institutional improvement - and none of us has tenure. Academic culture is hard to change, and our employment class (neither faculty nor unionized civil service) makes us the most vulnerable to cutbacks.  Still, a historic first: the faculty voted for a 1.3 percent cutback of their salaries (and ours too) for the year to avoid deeper staff cuts. 

The trees dopwntown as I ride an extra-early bus to work, are flowering everywhere - a promise of the abundance and power of planetary life.  May your spring days bring renewal and hope, energy and strength, gladness and peace.
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More from the day: on my walk to the office, I got up close to some blossoming trees.  They smell wonderful.

In the afternoon, on the way back from a meeting, I took a side trip to revisit the tulips I had seen the day before.  They are still close to perfect.

I had to take this picture too, because daffodils last so short a time.

In the evening, we visited the wildflower garden - this time, I had my camera, which allowed me to take some lovely close-up pictures.  Some day, I will learn how to embed a slide show of a series of photos into the blog.  (Reya does this from time to time, most recently here, and I've always admired it.  It appears to be a PhotoBucket thing.)

Click on these - what are they? marsh-marigolds? - and see them shine.

Spring days in our city of lakes

Spring is an amazing season here in the City of Lakes, in the State of 10,000 lakes.  In recent years, I haven't spent much time doing what a large percentage of the population is doing every weekend, which is to stroll around one or another of our lovely lakes.  Back in the day, a very left-leaning governor (Floyd B. Olson, I believe) was instrumental in keeping the lakeside and riverside properties within the Minneapolis city limits as public parklands.  It certainly has made our city liveable.

So today, we visited for the first time one of the city parks off-leash areas, where dogs can be dogs and people can enjoy them.  We have been going to an indoor dog-play hour each week, so that Charlie can become socialized.  Today, in the dog park, he was more active and social than he's been in that indoor setting, so we'll certainly return.  (He had particular fun with a young and speedy dachshund, racing around the park.)

So - two photos taken afterward, as we joined our fellow Minneapolitans on a Saturday early evening stroll along the Lake of the Isles shore:

The first is looking across to one of the little islands nestled in this lake.

Next, a view of Charlie (that's Peter on the other end of the leash) - Charlie still pulls ahead on the leash despite being in Level Three dog training.  He'll walk by my side if I have treats in my hand, but we haven't gotten it to a point of doing so when out on a walk.  Nor have I gotten him to stop jumping up on people (including a very tiny but intrepid little girl this evening).

Happy Vernal Days!

Catching up to the rest of the country - happy vernal days!


Our transition from winter to early spring happened rather abruptly, over just a few days. We went from this...

to this...

in the space of four or five days. The melting ice and snow sent a steady stream down the gutters all week. Temperatures rose above freezing - then into the 40s - then 50s - then 60s, just for a couple of days.

It's much cooler now, but still more like April than March.

In Minnesota, weather is a never-failing subject for conversation. Perhaps it is everywhere, but it seems especially so here. What if the global warming means we aren't subject to the same degree of suffering? Would that weaken our character, make us less prepared for stark, life-threatening emergencies?

But I love the sun and cool-touched warmth anyway. It lifts my spirits, gives me energy enough to work without flagging through the days, takes me outside with the dog for longer and longer walks. Happy spring to you all.

Even a little bit helps

 

Feeling a bit sheepish by revisiting junior high school the other day,  I spent time on the bus ride to work the next day in meditation - not too ambitious, following breath, inwardly repeating the mantra I got from reading Eat, Pray, Love (Om Namah Shivaya).  I had recognized this was playing on a recording at my yoga class last Monday, and Holly (the wonderful yoga instructor) said it was directed to Shiva, which pleased me to hear.  During the bus ride, I was conscious of the chant being praise to the Source, and also a means of accepting and appreciating the creation and the dissolution of everything encountered, inside and outside of myself.

The long and the short of it: things went better.  I felt in synch with the day- I use the word "attunement," which brings up the image of the orchestra players at the beginning of any performance making sure their instruments are in tune with each other, with the music to be played.  With no greater effort during the day, I was able to sense when to contribute to conversations and when to listen in (yet again) a meeting of fellow student services administrative types.  I remembered to eat lunch.  I noticed more of the flowing experiences around me, rather than being locked in my head.  No great revelations, here, just a reminder of the need for rudimentary psychic housekeeping.

(The image is a crystal I bought at a rock show - I was searching the Web for images of meditation and thought, I should show something of my own.  If you hold it just right, there are rainbows in this little orb - I think the picture caught that a bit if you enlarge by clicking.)

(Confession) - Back in Junior High

So I'm in a meeting with other University folks, many of whom I was in a meeting with last Tuesday (and several are also Facebook friends).  On the surface, on the conscious level, I'm business-like and friendly, enjoying the camaraderie with folks from around campus, as we meet to discuss an important report to the Regents that could affect our work units. I make several comments, which seem to be fitting in with the flow of our communal thinking.

But - I'm also conscious of sitting next to someone I worked with very closely for a couple of years (until a few months ago), and - she's doesn't turn my way.  No eye contact.  She turns to the colleague next to her (one of our friendliest, full of good spirits and energy).  As we prepare to leave at the end of the meeting, again my former work-team colleague turns away from me to chat with our good-humored colleague.  I heave a sigh and leave.

DANG!  I'm back in junior high school again.

My comings and my goings (to work)

(Going to work in the morning - our building is ahead.)

My day is framed by crossing and then re-crossing over the Mississippi River. That has been true for many years, but is very apparent now that I am walking over the river instead of zipping by car or bus over on a bridge that is continuous with the road, with time for an idle glance to the river bank in its changing seasons.

But now that I can see the river many times a day as I pass along the bank of windows in the corridor of our third-story office suite, I am more and more conscious of the river and its ecosystem as a presence in my life. Campus to the east of the river; downtown Minneapolis to the west of the river; my home on the other side of downtown.

I wish (sigh) that I had gotten one of the three administrative offices facing the river instead of mine with a side-window looking at the edge of the riverbank (those folks get to watch the wheeling eagle who nests somewhere along the bank). On the other hand, perhaps I would gaze too often, and get lost in reverie.

 

(A late work day ends - view of walk bridge from the window.)

 

 (After hours - nighttime view of walk bridge and city.)

Why DO I blog?

A lovely young woman in my Twin Cities Friends Meeting is putting together an article for our monthly newsletter on the bloggers in our Quaker community, and sent some questions for us to ponder and reply to. I found myself writing a bit more than she really asked for (which was an answer to at least one of her questions), so thought I'd post the whole thing here. Why DO I blog?

- When did you start blogging & why did you start blogging?

I started blogging a little over a year ago, with a blog that was so well hidden that nobody ever found it. A couple of months later, I started a new one, and later merged in the entries from the first one.

My purpose was two-fold: to get writing again, and (with the first blog) to reflect on my spiritual process/discoveries/concerns. The second blog was less focused in topic, so includes descriptions of what’s going on in my life, with my family, etc. I also bought a small camera so I could take pictures on the fly and post them, as that seemed to be an attractive feature of blogs I liked.

- How often do you post & what keeps you blogging?

I post at least every month, sometimes closer to every week – usually not any oftener than that. I keep posting because it satisfies that initial urge to express what’s important in my experience. Increasingly, I also feel myself to be in dialogue with others, as I get readers who comment on my posts. (I also do a fair amount of commenting on the blogs that I particularly like, when I have time.)

- What is it you like about blogging?

It’s becoming a community. Actually, it’s two communities for me, as I have a group of Quaker blogs I follow and comment on, and a group of “other” blogs – many interested in some of the same life-issues and political issues as my Quaker bloggers.

- How has blogging affected your life?

I feel guilty when I get too busy to blog, partly because I want to be a participating part of the blogging community, and partly because I miss out on that reflection and expression that are important to me.

- What is your advice for people who are thinking about blogging?

What I told myself as I plunged in: don’t think, just write. Don’t stop to wonder who will read it, what they will think of you, whether you are worthy, etc. etc. – just write. Take pictures or find them on the Web, if that makes it more fun, but don’t feel you have to. Dress up your blog or not – it doesn’t matter. It’s also really a plus if you take time to read others’ blogs and respond to those that speak to you, as it increases the likelihood that you will have interested readers responding to your ideas.

And don’t start measuring your worth by the number of comments you get, or anything – there may be readers who don’t have time to comment, but are really appreciating your writing. In the final analysis, though, you are Writing in the Light – finding words to connect, share, celebrate what is important to you, and may be life-giving (or at least thought-provoking) for others.