The hummingbirds have returned.  Cherry blossoms are singing their welcoming song. Tiny wings hold the small bodies aloft while the hummingbirds get drunk on the nectar.  Luscious scents in the air, the array of colors from snow white to scarlet to deep purple, might be the beacons that draw attentive little ones home again.  The timing is impeccable. 

I just returned from a quick trip to the high plains and Black Hills of South Dakota, the place that I call home.  I was hungry for wide open skies, glorious sunrises and sunsets, warm days and chilly nights.  A late spring snow storm bracketed this visit - up to 2 feet of snow fell the week before I arrived, snow tapered off when I flew in, several more inches fell during the week I was there, more snow was moving in as I left. Beautiful whiteness blanketed the ground with its familiar quietude. I saw a few friends, completed some scheduled work, visited sacred places.  The snowfall precluded any other plans.  Mother Nature seemed to create a space for Her work and nothing else in these brief moments. I was delighted to sit by the fire and be a part of Her doings, letting go of my own agenda.  I felt like I was home again.  The timing was impeccable.

Now I am west of the Rockies, west of the Cascades, back in this verdant valley and farmlands near the sea.  Lush green is everywhere. Bird song fills the daylight hours, soft rain falls on the roof at night. My family down the road adopted Sophie for a week, giving her another place where she can be at home and have a job, guarding her pack. I’m catching up on soccer games, dance recitals, talent shows, poetry and art events; deepening connections. I feel like I’m home again.  The timing is impeccable.

And so I am torn between two loves.  Home is the wide open spaces of Dakota, filled with my history, with dear friends and beloved places.  And home is the valley by the rivers of the northwest rainforest where I am creating a new story, making friends, deepening connections.  I’m holding two places close to my heart.  I’m moving from an "either-or" dichotomy to "both-and" embracing.  Discovering, once again, that home is an inside space.  I can go to the places I love, be with the people I love, immerse my self in the scents and sights and sounds that allow me to flourish; then draw all of this within to decorate my interior landscape.  Home abides serene and cherished, as close as my breath. 

May it be so for you in all the places that you inhabit . . . . . .
                                      
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A friend holds a gathering at her home twice a month.  We come together – family, friends, children, parents, grandparents – to share a meal, to consider together a chosen topic and then to end the evening with chocolate in one form or another.  “ Chocolate for the Soul” it is called and it is indeed rich and delicious.  This week’s topic is “Joy.” In the reminder emailed to us, Ellen shared the joy that she feels in welcoming us into her home, watching the children play, the adults deepen their relationships, serving us food and chocolate, anticipating the conversation we will create.  Joy often is the impetus for genuine sharing, giving of ourselves. By its very nature, joy must give!

Joy is different than happiness. While today I may feel happy, tomorrow I might feel sad or angry or lonely as happiness escapes me. Joy, however, doesn’t leave; it’s a permanent presence. It is a foundation that undergirds all else. Joy is an attribute or characteristic that becomes more apparent to us as we clean out the clutter in our lives, as we discern what is important and what is not, as we become more gentle and kind, as we trust that all will be well in our lives and that we have the capacity to manage the hardships. Helen Keller, Anne Frank and Gandhi were joy-full though the outer circumstances of their lives were more challenging and difficult than most of us will ever face.

The Christian world has just celebrated Easter. Christ rose from death and showed the world what it means to be truly alive. What joy there was then, and is today, in those who understand His message.  Before Jesus, the Christ, came into the world, springtime celebrations in all cultures carried the same message: that life comes after suffering and darkness and death. That life is eternal and death will not destroy it. Joy is a gift inherent in understanding and accepting the natural rhythms and cycles of the year, of a lifetime. Joy is life, real life.

When our present calendar was standardized and January 1 instead of April 1 became the beginning of the new year, those who refused to accept this new system were called “April Fools.”  They insisted on clinging to that which no longer had substance. Like those first April Fools, we often try to hold on to that which, if lost, would not make much difference. In fact if all that we cling to from the past were to disappear in an instant, perhaps we could more easily be “alleluia” people: those who find God in the here and now. Those who have died to the past and live again now. Those who give rather than hold tight out of some fear of loss. 

Each day we get to choose to live joyously or foolishly, full or empty. I pray that each of us will discover the joy that informs us and bask in that joy as in the sunlight of a new born day!

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