Rituals not only construct reality and make meaning; they help us fashion the world as a habitable and hospitable place…
~ Herbert Anderson & Edward Foley ~
But you see first I must get up and walk the dogs. Then there are all the birds to feed and get fresh water and treats, and oh don’t forget the dogs treats too. Then of course the beta fish are all staring at me waiting to get fed.
There are plants to check and water and I have to check the feeders on the patio to make certain that they are all full. Nothing is more disconcerting than sitting here looking out on my lovely patio with many, many feeders and small antique sky blue spatterware buckets filled with water for drinking and bathing for the wildlings not tended to. I like to watch them from right here at my computer desk, with sleeping dogs now lying all around me and birds, inside and out, eating, frolicking, and starting their day. Then, and only then, do I go into the kitchen and fire up the Sacred Latte Machine.
I bow, do the Benevolent Latte Dance, speak well of it’s ancestors and pray, on my knees, that it might one more day serve me in its always gracious, lest not forget abundant manner… And it’s a lovely things to see, as above, the steam whistling out the top as the little pot fills with that fragrant strong coffee. Every nerve in my body tingles, my nose twitches, I am up on my tippy toes with excitement, a new day has begun…
remembrance of the great cycle of things.
~ Brooke Medicine Eagle ~
Hold each moment sacred … give
each its true and due fulfillment.
~Thomas Mann ~
that it cannot be sacred…
~ Madeleine L’Engle ~
At first, of course, it’s too hot to drink. Then one gingerly blows a little and takes tiny sips until finally courage takes over and a nice big sip is just right. Ahhhhh…. nothing like it. Then I settle in with my latte, answer (or make a stab at answering) the mountain of e-mail, start uploading pictures from my camera from the day before for this blog, work on sketching fiber projects and perhaps sit here and spin yarn while I think, or work on something in my lap (I’ve always got a basket of fiber projects right next to me.) while I think. There’s a lot of thinking and drinking going on. I love to hold the latte bowl in both hands, so warm, so comforting, and the days I wake up headachy it feels good to hold it against my forehead. Before I know it I’m off and running, pugs snoring all around me and sweet Moe sleeping silently on the couch. Sampson, as always, is directly under my chair here and his warm soft teddy bearish pug self keep my feet warm. Babs is sleeping daintily on her movie star bed and the parrots have settled down and are quietly playing. Except for Henry. Henry is with me where he mostly is when I’m sitting here working. On my shoulder, the back of my chair, or he sits on my forearm bobbing up and down while I type. Of course he likes his bit of latte…
intended to sustain some continuity in
the world…
~ Mary Catherine Bateson ~
Henry and I would never attempt the
morning meeting before out latte…
(Please note: Coffee may be deadly for birds.
He gets a tiny nip of milk foam. That’s all!)
Finally, the day has begun. The espresso machine was cleaned before I ever left the kitchen. Very important because the milk jet can get clogged up and then you’re sunk. I may be a lousy housekeeper but I take sublime care of that which I care about. My animals, and the espresso machine. Well, we all have our priorities…
Friends exist side by side, absorbed in some common interest or vision for the world. Others may join such a friendship because they share the same vision. Understood this way, friendship is potentially the most inclusive of all relationships…
~ Herbert Anderson & Freda A Gardner ~
Latte Machine Smile Down On You…
My main ritual occurs at the end of the day…
There is the “click” of the lighter, or the “snap-hiss!” of a match as I light the candles in my room. Then I turn off the light, and enter into Sacred Time. I take my time changing into pajamas, folding up clothes not needed anymore, and squaring things away in the mystic twilight.
More often than not, I then move to my altar, lighting the candles there as well. I sit before it, and grab my “prayer beads” – a string of cheap plastic beads, in truth, that glow beautifully green in the candlelight. I wrap it around my left hand, and rub my hands back together, back & forth, moving into quiet mind. Eventually my hands slow, then stop, and I pray.
After a time, I unwind the beads and place them back in their shell, to await their next use. I will sit at my altar for a while longer, then move through sacred gestures, blow out the candles, and arise.
I can tell when I need to sit before my altar when I feel disconnected and rushed…and after, I always feel that I’ve “checked back in” with Reality.
(didn’t mean to write a novel!) 😉