Cleanliness, Next to Godliness

Caitlan used to play with all the other Caitlans she found in the mirror. Because she's really twins. A Chimera. Or so she believes. I suppose believing oneself to be a chimera is less odd than believing that mirrors are windows to other space-times with other "selves."

We pulled out the 'fridge and the stove, and deep cleaned everywhere. We did use some bleach; but other than that we used earth-friendly cleansers such as elbow grease.

I had a fun weekend; I am yet mourning the loss of more fun. It was Burning Man open house, Phenomenauts performance, and more friend's performance, and I missed all that. Yet I got to Palm Sunday Mass, I got nice and rested up, I went to sweat lodge with Betsy, Liz and Caitlan, I went to a backyard party at a like-minded neighbor's house with Xena-- so you see, plenty of fun was had and I am rarin' to go for this week.

Caitlan has decided she's an agnostic theist. I enjoyed exploring a new to us spiritual tradition; that of entering a sweatlodge and going through the purification and gratitude rituals. I feel so humbled that these traditions which have remained closed to Europeans are being opened. I've never smoked red willow bark in a ceremonial pipe before. Heck, I've never sweated so much in a womb-dark earth-space with two dozen men and women, either. Hearing the songs in a native tongue, feeling the embrace of mother earth, I sensed a tradition and a spirituality fundamentally different from Christianity. Christianity is trying to "save" souls, to deny the flesh and redeem the spirit. This tradition knows no redemption. All is already part of the Great Is. Attunement to this unfolds. This tradition knows gratitude, growth, stillness, and altered, exalted states through intense physical effort.

Heh. One twilight in asweatlodge and I'm an expert in the difference between indigenous American spiritual traditons and my own.

I was very curious about their notion that God/Creator has many aspects (Creator, Sun, Earth, Wind, Trickster) although there is just the One, and yet Jesus as the Son of God seemed to be actively eradicated. The elder mentioned we were to sing no "Christian hymns." Did the Catholic Church do that much harm while prosletyzing to the people of the Americas? I suppose we must have done.

We allowed the Celts to change Catholicism. I wish we had allowed other tribal traditions to, as well.

Relieved and Inspired

Aaron finished setting up the video equipment in plenty of time for our guests to watch our new president's inaugural address. About 40 or so people came; friends, family, neighbors and neighbor's family. We laughed, we cried, we cheered. We caught our breath when Obama made pointed referrals to the previous administration's leadership's failures, and shouted agreement when he acknowledged the patriotism and dedication of the rank and file who served their fellow Americans even while under the burden of Bush/Cheney.

We served Martinelli's and champagne, and some light snacks. Of course the cups are compostable and the snacks made by hand. The amphitheater under the willow hummed with hope.

After, a black woman spoke first. "I am so glad to be here. I'd been having a horrible day, and now it's a wonderful day. And although Barack Obama is a black man, I don't think we really see him that way. We see him as a leader who will listen to us. And like he says, running the country is up to all of us. We've got to do the work. But I feel like now there is the opportunity for anyone to have a job if they want one. I feel like we can encourage our children to stay in school, and it's our job to help the schools and the teachers so our children can grow up to be who they want to be."

We all echoed these sentiments. It always has been up to us to do the work. It's been disheartening to see corrupt men like Dick Cheney siphon the cream of our efforts into his friends' hands and even into his own. I feel like the Bush adminstration picked too much fruit and gorged themselves on it, failing to tend the garden of our country, and the garden responded by drying up.

Now we hope we will see an era in which by common effort, all people will prosper.

The End of the Error

If you know me IRL and would like to come over on Tuesday the 20th at 7:00 pm to celebrate the End of the Error, you are welcome to watch our presentation of President Obama's inaugural address. It'll be in the backyard, on the movie screen. Send me a message via Facebook.

Pasta Tuesday (Wash-up Wednesday, Thursday, Friday?)

Urban Permaculture includes ritual celebration with friends and neighbors. An infrequent tradition around here is Pasta Night. In fact, Tuesday was the first time we've celebrated it in this house.

Discovering the parts to our pasta machine a couple weeks ago while pulling Christmas decorations from the attic unlocked this particular possibility.

It takes about two minutes for the machine to mix the dough, which I remembered. It takes about 8 minutes to extrude a load of pasta, which I had forgotten. Dinner, even with Karl and Giles on sauce and me focusing 100% on noodle production, lasted 3 hours. Clean-up? It's next year and I'm still cleaning up.

The best part: we're going to do all this again. There's harmony and joy in taking on a simple thing like noodles and sauce and turning it into a Grand Project.

Loafing on Christmas

Permaculture Principle: The problem is the solution.

Application for our family: we never seem to get all the food shopping done. Last night, as an example, Nicholas and I lucked in to Berkeley Bowl's final four minutes. We got a surprisingly large amount of shopping done in those four minutes, but we are without some things typically considered essential. Shall we mope and whine that we don't have our "favorite?" The problem is we have time, but the stores are closed now. Well, what do we have? Time, flour and a recipe for the world-famous no-knead bread! Suddenly the gift of baking together in the kitchen is recaptured, and the tradition of having special food on the holiday is upheld.

We also found the parts for the pasta machine, so we'll be treating ourselves to fresh pasta later!

Off With Its Head?

We talked about the non-laying hens at dinner, and their imminent future as soup.

"Has anyone here killed anything larger than a rodent?"

"Not me." "Nope." "I had my cat put to sleep."

"I killed a snake once."

"How do you kill a chicken?"

"You swing it by its head."

"I did that once. I was a kid. All the drown-ups were drunk, and they thought it would be funny."

"You hang them by their feet and slit their throat and drain the blood out."

"You stick it in a cone and chop off its head."

"What if you miss?"

"You could just crush the head. That would do it."

"We could get them stoned first."

There were jokes made, at the chickens' expense. The next morning I realized that if I'm going to be part of killing a chicken or other animal, I need there to be a ritual honoring the gift the animal is giving us. When it really is time to make chicken soup, I'll be involved in the slaughter in some sort of shamanic capacity.