Our first full day birding was a bit disappointing.  We woke up to snow and a biting, snarling, snarky wind.  There was little getting out of the car.  As we hunkered down, eating our gourmet picnic in our Subaru, my sister-in-law perfectly captured my sentiments. 

"It's still fun, because we are with you!"  That's it!! 

And...looking over our photos, it wasn't such a bad day after all!
 

Spiritual journeys fascinate me.  When folks move to a completely new paradigm, I'm very interested to know what, how and why. It seems to follow a trajectory of curiosity, questions, wondering, answers, doubt, more questions...and one day you wake up changed.

A father figure in my life left a fundamental/evangelical belief to join the Orthodox church.  In fact, several people I know have either converted to Orthodoxy or have considered it.  So I decided to read Facing East to better understand what appears a mysterious and very "other" faith.  Icons, incense, chanting, chrismation, standing for worship, prostration, saints' days, long beards in black robes are images that came to mind when I heard the word Orthodox.  And yet we worship the same Trinitarian God.

Frederica Mathewes-Green is an excellent tour guide to Orthodoxy.  She writes in a warm, personal tone, with an exceptional ability as a wordsmith.  (I enjoyed her movie reviews and columns in World Magazine, back in the day.)  Facing East takes the reader through one year in the church calendar as a pilgrim's journey.  By the end of the church you feel you know the folks of the mission church her husband leads.

What I appreciated the most in this book were the ancient prayers and hymns. 

In vain do yo rejoice in not eating, O soul.
For you abstain from food,
But from passion you are not purified.
If you persevere in sin, you will perform a useless fast.


When thou comest, O God, to earth with glory, and all creatures tremble before thee, and the river of fire floweth before the Altar, and the books are opened and sins revealed, deliver me then from that unquenchable fire, and make me worthy to stand at Thy right hand, O righteous judge.

When I asked a friend about the attraction to Orthodoxy she explained that she was tired of worshiping with her head only, like her faith was just something that went on in her brain.  She loved the physicality of Orthodox worship. 

Mathewes-Green is a compelling writer.  She throws in commentary on art by Christians, popular and not; you laugh and sigh at her distress when her daughter gets a nose ring. Catch some of her phrases:

The Eastern and Western church are often divided on the dates of the church calendar.  I'm glad that this year we will be celebrating Pascha on the same day.  To my Orthodox friends: Many years!

Sherry at Semicolon is making a list of Top 100 Classic Poems.

The rules and instructions are at Semicolon.  The deadline is midnight, March 26, 2010.

You don't have to submit ten.  If you can only think of five, or three, that is fine.  April is poetry month and I'm going to wait until then to post my nominations. I can say this: each poem moves me...either to tears or to some pretty ferocious laughter.  Poetry has a way of doing that. 

When we homeschooled, we started each day with a poem.  I can't say it was the favorite part of the day for anyone, but the drip, drip, drip of a daily poem worked its way through the other intellectual clutter.  I really miss that routine.  I could reinstate it for myself, but that would require getting up earlier and planning on bypassing the domestic rush hour.

You don't need to be a blogger to participate.

All it takes is the love of one good poem.  Or three. Or ten. 

If you like the idea of exposure to poetry, but don't know where to start, you can pick up poetry anthologies just about anywhere.  I'm fond of  The Top 500 Poems.

I'm thankful, for my sake, that I read a borrowed copy of James Sire's book How to Read Slowly.  It slowed me down.  Instead of marking and highlighting passages and turning pages, I read with a journal and pen and copied copious notes and quotes.  Instead of zipping through 179 pages in three evenings, it took me almost a month to complete. 

Sire writes for readers on every level.  If you like the idea of reading, but haven't finished a book in a year, this book is for you.   If you enjoy reading, but sense there are better books, Sire will guide you.   And if you, like me, can't not read, you will get a great refresher course on how to better do what we can't escape doing. 

How to Read Slowly is a simple book.  He devotes a chapter each on reading non-fiction, poetry and fiction, followed by a chapter on contexts and one on finding the time.  Simple.  Really.

I was immediately captured by the dedication: To my father who in his eighties still reads voraciously.

Sire doesn't just tell you...he shows you.  His chapter on poetry would make the most reluctant reader of poetry want to dip his big toe in the pool of poems.  Here's a sample:

Simple enough, right?  Yet Sire asks questions and makes observations which make me want to jump up and click my heels!  Visually, what do you see in this poem? Sire concludes, "Williams's poem is like a still-life painting.  Quality presents itself quietly and yet persistently.  And, though we cannot say why we see, we see." 

Excellent questions, superb commentary, quotes that express what I've always felt, more book titles to read: that's what you will find in this wonderful read.

 
A young friend of mine (a former student) was married on Saturday.  Loree's wedding to Andrew was simply splendid.

It began with multiple groups of grandparents processing down the aisle to Moonlight Sonata.  Exquisite music.  I immediately thought, "Why have I never played this for a wedding before?"  When we thanked the pianist after the ceremony, Summer said "I told Loree that I regretted getting married without a bit of Debussy." 

The kiss: what I loved is the look Andrew gave Loree--a full thirty seconds I'd guess--drinking in her smile before the kiss.  We got the sense that this remarkable young man is deliberate in all he does.

The knot: the two fathers brought up a large coil of nautical-grade rope.  The bride and groom took these two ropes and made a lover's knot.

After the bride and groom tied the knot the wedding party all tugged on the rope to tighten the knot.  It was festive and fun!

A favorite moment was meeting Andrew at the end of the receiving line.   Smiling, he extended his hand and was genuinely pleased to meet Curt and me.  But when Loree leaned into him and said, "She wrote the words," Andrew changed into hug mode.  Of course the words are not my words, but a quote I wrote in a card.

Here are the words.