153. Misconceptions of Aging

I worked for thirteen years with the elderly as a music therapist, eleven years in a nursing home in Rockland County, and two in a nursing home in Westchester. Sometimes as I told people where I worked they expressed sympathy and I would ask them what their thoughts are as they think of people who living in a nursing home. Sometimes they said they thought of despair, gloom, emptiness, loneliness, broken people.

My experience in those years was of knowing people with grit, history, humor, stature, wholeness, and rich lives. There was one woman who as I helped her write down some of her memories, thought of her years in a university in Ohio. They held tryouts for the track team and she showed up, not knowing that women weren’t allowed, but the coach said, “Let’s see you run anyway.” And when she ran, he asked her to come back the next day to show the guys how to do it.

There were two women who eventually shared a room. Both of them had made the arrangements themselves to live at that nursing home and both had sons who kept inviting them to come live with them, but these two women were still in charge of their lives. They created their schedules every day—they picked what they wanted to do. They were still quite busy—living.

I don’t pretend that this was true of everyone in both nursing homes. But I do maintain that each person I met was doing the very best they could at that time in their life. I loved my work there. I loved getting to know individuals and then accompanying them right up to their last day.

 

152. Feminism and Faith

This is the first of several on the issue of feminism—not necessarily all in a row—just know that I’ll come back to it. Secular and faith-based have usually blended together for me.

Years ago I went to a book group at a library in Rockland County where we discussed The Women’s Room by Marilyn French. And then I joined a women’s poetry writing group, led by Honor Moore. I think of those two events as the start of my feminism thinking and exploration.

And meanwhile at New City United Methodist Church as we sang hymns of brotherhood, mankind, and a male God, I fumed. I met regularly with the pastor of New City and he listened as I vented my anger and frustration. I also started on Sunday evenings attending Washington Square Church in Greenwich Village where I knew that the service would be clear of sexism and as Paul Abels preached, I knew I could relax and worship.

For me language is important and at the same time, it isn’t all of it. There is a basic belief in the self-worth of each person, female and male. And then there is a living that out. It feels we should be well past the “first” phenomena—first woman to do this, or that, or be this or that.

I never dreamed it would take so long to make changes. The Church continues to have a primarily male God. But for me God is he and she, and love, and giver of grace. God is tender, and strong, and holds within God-self all the attributes of the best of women and men.

There is still work to be done, both within the church and within the society; and I will write more.

151. Using the Light

I continue to love the shadorma poetry form. If you remember from past posts, it is a six line poem, no rhyme scheme, but a syllable scheme: first line—three syllables; second line—five syllables; third line—three syllables; fourth line—three syllables; fifth line—seven syllables; and sixth line—five syllables. Here’s one I wrote and like to pull out and read on these days when the dark comes early and lasts long.

—

Call to Light

—

I breathe deep

In sanctuary

I hear words

“You are light!”

When I use that light within —

Then, I am enriched.

—

© Copyright 2011 by Ann Freeman Price

 

150. Seven – Explained

I believe that William Wordsworth’s poem “We Are Seven” is a powerful narrative poem. As I read it for the first time, I found myself near tears at this little girl’s calm insistence that her brother and her sister who are buried in the graveyard are still in fact part of the family as she counts them. The poem by itself is wonderful.

It also struck a deep chord with me because I have sixteen grandchildren. They are between the ages of two and twenty-six. One of them lies in the Branchville, New Jersey cemetery and I count him every time. His name is Jackson and if he had lived, he would be twelve now. But my memories of him are very clear of when he was six months old. Just as the little girl in Wordsworth’s poem, I too sometimes go to his grave site and sing the songs I sang to him eleven years ago.

And so, when people say “How many grandchildren do you have?” I smile and answer, “Sixteen.”

149. Seven

Today I share with you a favorite poem of mine. Tomorrow I will share my connections with this poem. It’s powerful if you read it out loud.

—

We Are Seven

by William Wordsworth

—

—A simple child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

—

I met a little cottage girl:

She was eight ears old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

—

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.

—

“Sisters and brothers, little maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.

—

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

—

“Two of us in the churchyard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the churchyard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”

—

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet maid, how this may be.”

—

Then did the little maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the churchyard lie,

Beneath the churchyard tree.”

—

“You run about, my little maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the churchyard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

—

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little maid replied.

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.

—

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

—

“And often after sunset, sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

—

“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

‘Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

—

“So in the churchyard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

—

“And when the ground was white with snow

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”

—

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little maid’s reply,

“O master! we are seven.”

—

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

‘Twas throwing words away; for still

The little maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

148. The Lists from Sandy

Have you noticed people making lists and saying “These are the things I’m going to change before there’s another storm like Sandy.” My dentist said, “This is not going to happen again to me in the same way—next time I’ll have a generator.” You read about and see on television the changes some of the cities and the communities are going to make to not be caught so badly in the next storm. And in my household where I have an apartment attached to my daughter’s house, we have our lists too.

And yet I wonder if there is a more important list for us to be making. It seems to me the states and the federal government, the cities and small towns, the churches and community organizations—and the individuals need to be making lists about how we can stop the progression of Global Warming, so that the storms don’t keep getting worse and worse. My understanding is that it’s late AND yet, perhaps still not too late. I think people all over are willing to make sacrifices.

So I’m going to do some research and make another Global List of what changes I can make in my lifestyle, what I can do to influence the organizations and church I belong to, what I can do to impress the town, the state, and the country that I live in that I am willing to make sacrifices to impact and lessen the Global Warming effect.

This Global List may be even more important than the things on my personal list. And maybe in fact they’re intertwined and some of the personal things are global too.

147. Sandy—Ten Day Effect

I did postings many days in advance of the Storm Sandy and that’s what you’ve been reading. Now I’m typing this on Thursday, November 8, and it will be posted on Monday, November 12. Today we are on Day 10 of no power and are currently hopeful for restoration of power later today or tomorrow.

By no power I mean no power at all as we sleep. We have a generator which during the day and evening hours gives us a little heat in my daughter’s section of the house, keeps our two refrigerator/freezers going pretty well, gives us a few lights and some internet. We also have no water, so have been using the bucket system with toilets, have a 500-gallon tank of usable (but not drinkable) water next to the generator. My daughter and her family are campers so we have the luxury of a camp stove and she fixes at least one hot meal a day.

What I think about all of this is that we’re managing. I’ve gotten into a rhythm of a new way of going through the day and while not ideal it’s working pretty well. Now that roads are fairly clear, I go to some meetings where they have power and enjoy their heat and their facilities. As a matter of fact, I enjoy the heat in the car as I go somewhere!

My daughter said just yesterday, “I’ll be SO GLAD to vacuum, and I don’t even LIKE to vacuum.”

I’ve noticed that the evenings are the hardest. I find them dragging time-wise and I yawn and think it must be time to go to bed and it’s only 6:30. It feels hardest to do things in the evening and I end up reading, which is always a good thing in my scheme of things.

The other interesting thing is that I have found that when I’m out and doing things, I just want to get home. Friends have gotten their power back and said, You can come be with us. My other children an hour a way have power and they have said, Come stay. And I have wanted to just be home. It may take me some time to figure that one out.

I don’t want to sound too Pollyanna-ish or too comparative, but seeing and reading about the devastation of this storm, our ten days out of power haven’t been that bad. I told a friend this morning, “We’re acting out being pioneers—with a few conveniences!”

Guess what—On November 8 at 6:30 in the evening, the very day I typed this, our power was RESTORED! YEAH!

146 – The Lord’s Prayer / Part 2

Yesterday I posted about the anthem “The Lord’s Prayer,” published by Abingdon Press. It was written by Mark Miller and Laurie Zelman, words adapted from Matthew 6:9-13. And yesterday I wrote about the usual line “lead us not into temptation” from Luke, and Matthew writes “And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one.” So if you want to catch up, read yesterday.

My comment on the anthem for today are the words we say at the very end of the Lord’s Prayer—”…for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen.” And of course they are not in either Matthew or Luke. The New Interpreter’s Bible refers to 1 Chronicles as the place where this doxology comes from.

Mark Miller and Laurie Zelman made one significant change in this doxology. Instead of saying “kingdom,” they say “kin-dom.” In both the anthem and the “Worship & Song” it actually does say “kingdom,” but Mark explained at a workshop last year in Ohio that he intended it to say “kin-dom” since that is what we strive for—to be kin, each of us one to another. (Possibly, Abingdon read what Mark sent in as a typo and changed it. Now Mark says that the way it is printed is a typo.)

So I say and sing, “For thine is the kin-dom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.”

145. New Words to the Lord’s Prayer

A few years ago, Abingdon Press put out an anthem titled “The Lord’s Prayer.” The words were adapted from Matthew 6:9-13 by Mark Miller and Laurie Zelman. It can also be found in “Worship & Song,” the most recent collection of new (and old) hymns for congregational use that are not in either the United Methodist Hymnal or “The Faith We Sing.” This version of the Lord’s Prayer has become my favorite musical setting of this prayer, and in fact, it has become the prayer I pray.

There are slight changes that Mark Miller and Laurie Zelman have made and I’d like to point out two of them which resonate so positively with me. And I’ll do one here and one in tomorrow’s posting.

In the Matthew verse 13 it says: “And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one.” And Luke 11:4b says: “And do not bring us to the tie of trial.” The Luke passage has a note which says: “Or into temptation.” Well, that has always bothered me, the idea that God would lead me into temptation.”

Mark Miller and Laurie Zelman handle this line by having me sing, “In the time of trial, lead me into light.” © Copyright 2008 Abingdon Press. I believe this and believe it deeply—that in the midst of tragedy, in the midst of trials, in the midst of darkness—that God will lead me into light.

With all my heart, I can pray that – and do.

144. It’s Never Too Late to Dance

I’ve written about dancing before. Some day in September I wrote about dancing every day at the beginning of the day and at the end of the day. Want to guess how long that lasted?

But the intention is there. And the love of movement is there. I don’t remember it as a child. I do remember at some point in my 30’s or 40’s becoming fascinated with folk-dancing. I went as often as I could and learned to do a number of dances. And then loved doing the Electric Slide at wedding occasions.

In the 80’s I went to a center outside of Boston to a workshop titled “Movement as a Tool for Transformation.” I danced from 9-5 and I had never done that before. I stretched my body and my mind to absorb all that leader was teaching. And one of the things she taught was “All you have to do to lead a dance group is be one step ahead and sometimes you don’t even have to be that.”

In the 90’s at Union Theological School I experienced Walter Wink and his wife June Keener-Wink. In a week long workshop we talked and discussed the cosmos or world-views with Walter, and then we would go into the gymnasium and transfer what we had talked about into dance. It was astounding to me.

A few years later, Kirkridge Conference Center offered a course in Play, Movement, and Reflection, and the leader of the dance part was June Keener-Wink. The play part I’ll save for another whole posting. I sank into the dance part as if I had been waiting since I had last seen her and relished it.

Still a few years later, I went to her home and sought her counsel for starting a dance group in the church I was serving as co-pastor. And I did it, led it—me, an amateur dancer. We danced at St. Paul’s United Methodist Church every week for a while—a group of seven or eight of us, ranging in ages from 30 to 80, and we loved it.

So where do I end up in this posting. You get the idea that even at age 79, I love the reality of dance, the therapy of dance, the things I can do with dance. I can breathe in positive feelings. I can support my own self-esteem. I can extend and stretch myself, physically and in mind and spirit.

Excuse me—I think I need to get up and dance.