The Road We Travel

The labyrinth has always been a metaphor for our journey through life. Whether it is used to trap what you feel is evil, use it to let go of what troubles you, or use it to guide you through your life, it is and will always be, the road we all take. 

The center can be whatever we choose to call it, I choose to call it home and that is where I am going. I entered my labyrinth when I was born and I will walk it until I pass from this world into the next, when I go home. The mystics tell us we do not belong here, that we remember only vaguely where we came from, we have forgotten we will one day re-member with all that is home.

Early humans saw the winding one-way path more clearly than we who have forgotten where we came from and where we are going. They understood more clearly than us that we are simply travelers in this place. Like us they did not understand why we are here only that we had to journey home to where we belong. They recognized that every bend in the path represented each challenge we face in this long journey home, whether it be a challenge we have no control over, such as an illness, or something we created through our own ignorance, greed, or selfishness. 

We travel this path whether we want to or not, how we travel, what we do, or do not do, on the road creates each, and every, bend.  Every path is unique to each of us and we will walk it even if we do not want to. Every bend, every decision we make, every challenge we face and overcome will be recorded in the history of the universe. That history makes up the very fabric of the universe, the energy of life itself.  How we respond to our challenges, whether of our own making or not, creates the universe of life that births us all.

Ruth Jewell, ©May 16, 2020

NEVER THE WRONG PATH
By, Jeff Foster
(Merri Creek Labyrinth (Sidney Labyrinth),

May 16, 2020)

You cannot walk the ‘wrong’ path.
You can only walk the path.

For a moment, be present.
Breathe.
Let the past recede into the evening.

Feel your feet held on the vastness of the Earth.
Hear sounds shimmering all around you.

You cannot know you are walking the wrong path.
You are simply walking the path you are walking,
walking the path you cannot not walk.

Your walking makes it the path.

The path of this moment.
The only path you can touch.
The path your senses are meeting.

Behold, your path reveals itself in front of you, always.
Only a thought calls it wrong or right.
With doubt as your trusted guide, walk with courage…

In every sacred moment.
In every Now of Now.
Through every breath.
Through every joy and sorrow.
This is your path.

How Do I …

How do I put into words
A grief so deep
It scalds my heart?

How does
This soul so lonely say
I miss you?

You are my love, and
You are drifting away
Bit by bit I am losing you.

Some days you are you, and
Some days a little more
Is gone.

I want to tell you
To stay, don’t go, but
You don’t understand.

I love you,
I always will,
And I miss you.

How do I put into words
A grief so deep
It scalds my heart?

Ruth Jewell, ©May 4, 2020

An Old Womxn’s Rant

At 73 I am pissed off. 

As a womxn, I have spent 73 years being told I am worthless by white men who hold power, any kind of power. I used to believe them, I don’t anymore.

Ever since I was a child, I was told there were simply places I could not go, things I couldn’t do because of who I was, female. And, I believed them. Why wouldn’t I? They were people I was told to look up to, teachers, ministers, policeman, fireman, politicians, even my father. My mother tried to convince me it was in my interest to stay within the boundaries old, white, pathetic, men tried to put around me. And I let them, to a point.

I was 22 when my father died of cancer, and on his death bed he told me I needed to find a husband very soon who would take care of me or I would come to a bad end.  I didn’t listen. I still don’t know what that ‘bad end’ was.

Something in me said they were all wrong, my mother, my father, ministers, politicians, bosses, teachers, friends.  When a ‘friend’ came to me saying one of the reasons I couldn’t get a date was that men were afraid of me because I spoke my mind, I was too strong and needed to me more ‘soft.’  I told him, yes a him, if that was the case then I didn’t want a date. And, I didn’t get one.

When an employer told me, I couldn’t get a raise because I was at the top of my pay scale, only to discover that a man who did the same job had received a raise.  I asked how his this was possible; I was told he had a family and when I ‘finally’ got married I would leave so I didn’t need one. That was when I learned of workplace inequality. I threw a fit and got fired.

I have spent my entire life struggling to be seen, to be believed, to be accepted. I made friends with people of color, immigrants, the different gendered because they, like me, were kept out of positions of power, out of well-paying jobs, locked out of society. I disliked, but understood, women who choose the tactics of men in order to succeed. They did it because it was the only way they could.  I disliked, but understood, women who used their gender to succeed because it was the only way they could. I choose neither of those routes and ended up with jobs I hated and people I distrusted because I had to in order to survive.

In the last 20 years I gained hope that womxn were finally making gains politically, economically, and socially.  Yes, there are more womxn in science, business, and politics than ever before but not enough. Womxn, people of color, indigenous people, and the different gendered make up the majority of our population but make up only a fraction of the leaders in business, science, and politics. That not only disappoints me it angers me.

I do not understand womxn who continue to support old, white, European males over womxn of any color, people of color, or people who are different gendered. It totally boggles the mind. We are better than that. We deserve better.

My hope lies in the young womxn from across this globe who are making their voices heard. My hope lies in the womxn of ‘Me Too’ who are saying enough with being abused and demeaned just to further a man’s position. But I am discouraged, frustrated, and angry that these womxn, young and old, are being berated and demeaned by politicians and media because they are refusing to be silenced. I am confused by womxn who do not support them. I am angry that the choice of politician we are being handed is an old, white, European male, who though he appears enlightened grew up in the same time period I did and I have no doubt indulged in white, male privilege by demeaning or berating womxn, people of color, and the different gendered just to get ahead. It is what was done in my day, his day. I don’t blame him, it was how he was raised, but I don’t want those same attitudes leading my country anymore.

I am tired, frustrated, angry, old, and yes just a little crazy.  If that is what it takes to get heard then I encourage more womxn to be crazy, tired, frustrated, angry, and if it fits old.

Ruth Jewell, ©May 3, 2020

A Prayer for the Journey

As we continue to struggle with isolation, fears surrounding Covid-19, too much information, the lack of information, and misinformation I offer this prayer as we all journey the road together.

Ruth Jewell, ©April 28, 2020

Photo: Bryce Thompson Arboretum, Arizona, 2005, by Ruth Jewell.

A Walk in the Woods

Today, I went into the woods
cool shadows covered me
soft breezes kissed me
my footsteps muffled by last year’s leaves
I breathe deeply
scents of leaf, violet, and damp earth surround me
robin, finch, and woodpecker serenade me
rabbit, doe, and fox walk beside me.
I walked in the woods today
creation sang her glory
life in all her splendor surrounded me
The Creator held me in her arms

Ruth Jewell, ©April 14, 2020
Photo: The Guardian of the Woods

Thank You

The Doctor sits beside the empty bed
respirator and tubing all about
bags and bandages clutter the floor
tired, so tired, she weeps
tears fall on the rumpled sheets

I couldn’t save her
she couldn’t breathe
I tried, Oh I tried so hard
She gasped her last
She said “thank you.”

Ruth Jewell, ©April 8, 2020

Parody on the 23 Psalm

Today is a Palm Sunday unlike those we’ve ever had before. However, sometime the Creator tells us to take a moment to remember that in the universe, and world we create together, things often go awry. Nature has her own way of being and we have ours and it is in the balance between the two that we find life. Yet in all of the chaos of life we are not alone. They/Them will not let us travel this road alone, the creator is always walking along beside us, just like the shepherd is always with his flock.

This poem was written by my Grandfather during the height of the depression, another time of crises and chaos.  May it bring you peace during this Holy Week.

In pastures green? Not always:
Sometimes thou who knoweth best,
In kindness leadeth me
In weary ways,
Where heavy shadows be.

And by still waters? No, not always so:
Oft times the heavy tempests
Round me blow
And o’er my soul
The waves and billows go.

But where the storm beats loudest,
And I cry aloud for help,
Thou standeth by,
And whispers to my soul
“Lo, it is I.”

So where He leads me I can safely go,
And in the blest here after
I shall know,
Why, in His wisdom,
He hath led me so

Rufus G. Miller, written 1936, ©Ruth Jewell, April 16, 2013
(My grandfather loved roses, and the rose picture is one I took at Buchart Gardens Vancouver Island BC, in 2016)

(Rufus Miller was my grandfather and a poet.  My mother found this written on the back of a 1936 bulletin from the Christian Temple, Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Lorain, Ohio in about 1962, among the belongings of my grandmother, Edith Miller, following her death.)

I Thought I saw You

I thought I saw you
down there at the end of the lane.
Was it you I saw
holding a violet to you breast?
Was it you I saw
gazing into the distant hills
with such a far away look?
Were you waiting
for someone you love
to come and hold you?

I thought I saw you
down there at the end of the lane.
Was it you with tears
filling your eyes?
Did I see you reach
into emptiness hoping
someone would reach back?

I thought I saw you
down there at the end the lane
waiting for someone.
I saw you kneel in the grass
with violets all around and
I watched you pray.
As you stand and walk away
I prayed for you.

My spirit reaches out to you,
surrounding you, supporting you,
loving you, sending your heart strength.
It is all I have to offer
I cannot promise
all will be well.
I can only watch and guard.
I can only send courage and walk with you,
wait with you.
I cannot give you all you want.
All I can give, from my end of the lane,
is love and hope.

Ruth Jewel, ©March 16, 2020
Photo: The Guardian of the Woods

House of Worship

. . . Long ago, Long ago

Long ago this was a great house of worship
Men came from far and wide
To hear powerful leaders speak of God

. . . Today, Today

Today I am old and only my bones remain
The grass, the flowers, the trees worship here now
Fox, and mice, and birds all congregate

. . . Now, Now

Now sermons are the gentle whispers of wind and rain
Mice lead with tiny voiced prayers
Wrens lead a choir of sparrows and finches

. . . Prayer, Prayer’s

No more the loud prayers for men’s pride
Now there is a gentle offering of gratitude and
The Creator’s voice, the world’s hope, and the prayer for another day

Ruth Jewell, ©March 9, 2020
Photo: The Guardian of the Woods, March 3, 2020