Generally, this column is oriented
toward children, but, of course, religious
education is for adults too. One
of the many ways that the CLF fosters
continuing religious growth is through
our Shared Interest Groups, email lists for CLFers
who share a common interest, theology
or life experience. This month we’d
like to share with you two posts written
by CLFer Alma Hatzenbuhler to our
Religious Naturalist Shared Interest
Group.
Hi everyone,
There is a mountain called Eboshi-dake
here in Sasebo, Japan. It overlooks the
harbor on one side and overlooks the
northern end of Sasebo on the other.
Near the top, there is a long set of stairs
that leads to a shrine nestled among
dark boulders that jut out of the ground
among many deciduous trees at the
peak of the mountain. I like to go there
to meditate. I can never get enough of
the view. Somehow, the sea and the
clouds often create a misty white sky
that makes the
sun look red at
dawn and at
sunset. Today
was one of
many misty
white days and
it was full of fast moving stratocumulus
clouds, so today especially, the
view from the top of Eboshi was spectacular.
The mist created a haze in the
distance but the sunlight illuminated
the mist, so the sky glowed for thousands of feet into the air and in all directions.
From the top of Eboshi-dake,
it seemed like I was in a bright white
glowing globe. A multitude of soft
white sunbeams shot between the
clouds onto the deep gray surface of
the sea and into the thick green trees
that cover almost all the mountains on
Kyushu. Because the clouds were moving
by quickly, the
sunbeams danced
along their edges. The
clouds were soft
white, gray, blue, and purple, and their
swift movement made them rapidly
change in brightness and hue. I was
wearing black clothing and I sat on a
dark rock, so the sun warmed everything
surrounding me. I melted into the
Earth and the sky for a while. There are
times when the warmth of the sun on
my face is a gift from heaven. I don't
know if there is a meditative state that
is gratitude and appreciation, and I
don't believe in a traditional God, but I
do believe in communion, even though
I have never experienced communion
in the church sense. But I experienced
communion today. I have heard that
communion is a sacred joining or togetherness,
but I think it is also grace—
the grace of the Earth and the air and
the sun—the grace that taps into me
and elicits my gratitude and awe. There
are so very many beautiful places on
this planet. It is comforting to know
that no matter where I happen to be, the
kind of beauty I found today is near at
hand. May the beauty of the place
where you live reach into your life today.
Hi everyone,
When I took my class to the playground
today, sea hawks were circling
in the air by the dozen. What a beautiful
sight. It was easy to imagine that
they were studying us, wondering what
in the world we were doing as my exuberant
kids scampered all about me.
Even more than the sea hawks, I often
feel as though the ravens study us.
They call to each other over our heads
and it seems like they are sharing some
private joke at our expense.
I went to Eboshi-dake on New Year's
Day. It was a different sort of experience.
Since it was an important Japanese
holiday, Eboshi was crowded with
families. People took their children up
there to fly kites even though the
ground had a light cover of snow. It
was a pleasure to watch the many Japanese
families with their children—the
parents are so lovingly involved. The
moms were out there walking delicately
in their pretty dresses and high
heels and the dads running with their
children and laughing about their
games.
I had a delightful conversation with a
Japanese lady at the top of the mountain.
In Japanese, I tried to tell her that
I am from South Dakota, a place that
grows a lot of corn, and that made her
think that South Dakota is in Canada.
So I brought up Mt. Rushmore, which I
lived near, and now she thinks that is
also in Canada. She had asked me if I
had been meditating. I told her I tried
to, and she wanted to know if I am
Buddhist. I told her no, but sukoshi (a
little). It turned out that she is a Jehovah's
Witness and we laughed about
how strange the world is sometimes.
The American woman meditated on the
mountain and the Japanese woman
would have liked to save her through
Christ. That day I felt laughter all
around me, like a quality of the air. The
unexpected happens and laughter and
joy are the natural result. It occurs to
me that I often have a weird way to
understand and connect to the world. I
know that birds aren't laughing at me
and that laughter isn't a quality of the
air, but I feel as though these things
are. Humor might just be a part of the
cosmic consciousness, and I intend to
hold on to that idea.
May the mirth of the universe also
bring you some lighthearted surprises.
