Eboo Patel: Acts of Faith

One of my classmates attends a Muslim Journeys class that meets once a month at the local college. When she found out that I had been married to a Muslim, she invited me to the meeting hoping that I would be able to take away something positive.  Before the gathering, I was given Eboo Patel's book Acts of Faith to read and a group of about 20 people showed up to discuss his work. 

Photograph by Nubar Alexanian

Mr. Patel is deeply involved in Interfaith work, but this book is really more about a journey, a coming to terms with your own beliefs. He encourages everyday people like you and me to explore other religions so that we will become a stronger believer in our own faith. But first, we must have dialogue and find a common value between the religions. Then we can work together to help mankind. A service that is to be done for His glory and not ours. What I thought would be a boring read turned out to be one of encouragement and inspiration.  

Here is a quote from my favorite poet which is very fitting for this post:

I am not from the east or the west

not up from the ground

or out of the ocean

my place is placeless

a trace of the traceless

I belong to the Beloved.

Rumi

   

Winter Blahs and wishing the season would just go away

I don't know about you, but this winter has been very hard on us here in the Midwest.  We have had more snow this winter than the past ten years.  The whole city is talking about the weather and more than just talking, people are complaining.  Snow boots are now everyday wear instead of getting their occasional use and I really don't want to wear tan suede everyday. For two days, I wore normal shoes to work and felt ever so much like a rebel. Yesterday I wore a sweatshirt and was elated. Then today came and the wind is blowing as if a tornado was near by.  I stand in front of the window with my nose pressed against the windowpane longing to go out.  Longing to feel warm breezes on my skin. Longing to take pictures again. Longing for the sun to warm the now frigid earth. 

Yesterday, I made my way to the camera shop.  I have been investigating lenses, especially the 50mm Canon f/1.8.  I asked the guy at the counter a billion questions and then decided on the lens that I wanted all along.  Today, I took it out for a spin, so to speak.  I really like the results for such a simple piece of camera equipment. 

I went to the Botanical Gardens and also to the Cathedral across the street.  The pictures are more sharp than any I have taken so far.  

 

 I cannot tell you how thrilled I am with this new lens.

Tomorrow, I have a photo shoot scheduled for some friends of mine.  I can hardly wait to get there.

 

Besides all of this, I didn't carry a flash or reflectors, just the camera.  Isn't that the way it is supposed to be? Just a girl and her camera.

 

Burris Film of Morocco

I subscribe to Burris Film on Youtube and whenever a new video comes out I am notified right away. The guy's name is Evan Burris Trout who is an American Cinematographer that is currently living in London.  He has been traveling all over Europe and Northern Africa since he arrived in the United Kingdom and I have watched nearly all of his videos.  I was looking up things about England on Youtube, (which is my favorite movie channel at the moment), and have been hooked ever since.  When he filmed the countryside of Morocco in the Atlas Mountains video it brought back a lot of memories for me.  I love the mint tea and still have it on a regular basis along with tagines, couscous, and a myriad of other wonderful Moroccan dishes. Morocco is only a three hour plane ride from London and many people come for a weekend. Doesn't that sound exciting?! I hope that you enjoy these videos.  I sure do. 

Evan is also on Facebook. 

My life is like a book

Today, I found this wonderful little book that was written in 1896. It is called A Man's Value to Society by Newell-Dwight-Hillis.There were 18 editions printed between 1896-1899, it appears to have been quite popular. I only paid a $1 for it and I am anxious to delve in-between its cover. I am a collector of old things, well, except old men. When I picked it up, it smelled old, but not musty, which turns me off. 

As I thumbed my way through the book this caught my eye:  "Primarily, books are to be read for information and mental strength. The hunger of the body for bread and fruit is not more real than the hunger of the intellect for facts and principles." 

Sometimes, I have an insatiable desire to read, almost voracious at times, as I consume volume after volume. My whole existence is surrounded by books. The house is full of them and nearly in every room, none in the bathroom (I have my limits). I have a running list of ones that I must read and work seems to get in my way of doing the things that I enjoy most, which is reading. But isn't that how life is? If I could only get paid for reading! But then I would probably end up hating the thing that I love most.

Each of us is a book without an epilogue,

an unfinished book 

whose Author reserves the right to write the ending,

since He wrote the beginning.

Anais Nin

Two sisters, tree sap, and another photography story

It was a perfect September day.  The sun stood high in the sky, beaming down its rays on the earth.  Roses were still in bloom, filling the air with their sweet perfume. The trees were full of leaves and they rustled when the wind blew. It is days like this that made me want to bask in the sun and relax, but there was no relaxing on this day.

 My sister Donna asked me to photograph her since she hadn’t taken any pictures of herself in a while.  I was glad to oblige her and it gave me the opportunity to work on my photography techniques.  With several changes of clothing and my camera gear, we headed to the various parks around town.  Never realizing the obstacles that would get in our way, although, this seems to be the story of my life.

I picked her up and we decided to go to the various parks in town to try and take some good photographs. The first place we went to was Foster Park. It was located very close to my house and there was an abundance of flowers and trees which provided a beautiful background. 

I was still very new at photography and owned a Canon Powershot at the time.  Oh the problems I had with that camera!  Most of the time I took 10-15 shots of the same scene hoping that at least one would be decent enough to use.  Most shots would be either blurry, have outlandish colors, some body part was cut off, or dappled sun spots would be on the subject’s face.  If I took pictures inside during the winter time, well, I might as well not have tried.  They would be dark, blurry or both.  And yet, I kept trying.

We arrived at the park and began the photo shoot.  Donna was a real trooper.  I had her climbing trees, standing in the midst of bushes and posing in awkward positions.  When we were nearly done, I saw a lovely tree with a low branch that my sister could sit on while I took her picture.  She plopped down and I tried to take a few shots. I noticed that she was sitting in an awkward position. I asked her to move her bottom forward a little so that she could lean back against the branch comfortably.

 “I can’t” she said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“I’m stuck.”

"What do you mean you’re stuck?”

“I can’t move”, she said,” My pants are stuck to the tree.”

Not again, I thought.  The last time I took someone out on a photo shoot we got locked in the Botanical Gardens, now this. I felt a laugh coming.  I pried my sister off the tree branch and turned her around to look at the back of her pants.  Tree sap covered her entire backside.  There’s no way she is sitting in my car with that sticky stuff all over her pants.

“You’re not sitting in my car with sap all over your butt,” I said roaring with laughter.  She stood beside my car while I rummaged through the trunk looking for something that she could sit on.  I found a plastic grocery bag.  I asked my sister to turn around. I knelt down and I firmly pressed the bag to her bottom, making sure that no sap was exposed and the bag wouldn't come off.  I didn't care if people were looking at us while I was pressing the bag to her bottom; I was determined that no sap would be left on my car seat. By the time the both of us were in the car we were laughing hysterically.

“Jeannie, something weird always happens when I am with you.”

“I guess I am special.” I replied with a smile.

I dropped her off at home and I drove back to my house laughing the whole way.  I had a great day with my sister and it was one day that I will never forget. Sometimes it’s the weird things make our experiences more memorable.  

Orchids and Journals of Anais Nin

This winter my orchid plant was dormant. A friend gave it to me last year,it was blooming and ever so lovely.  In the fall, the flowers dropped and all that was left were two green but barren sticks protruding from the ground.  I had contemplated throwing the plant away. Instead, I kept watering and feeding, thinking that maybe it is resting. Look at what has bloomed so unexpectedly!  I am thrilled. 

Don't you think that is how we are?  Sometimes we go for long periods of time without making any kind of progress, or so we think.  Then buds come out of those barren branches and our lives take a turn. Then we bloom like we have never before.  

I am currently reading Linotte, the first in a series of Anais Nin's journals.  She started writing in her notebook when she was 11 years old and had just arrived in the States. She knew from that age that she was meant to be a writer.  It was in her blood. She couldn't see herself working in any other career.  For a child, her writing was very good. She has a lot of witty sayings, of which, I have written in a small notebook that I carry every where. I am going to leave you with this:

I am a leaf that isn't on the right tree. I fly, I run, I search, but why keep looking on this tree when my happiness is hidden in another?

Ice Instruments: Music to chill by

This time of year can be miserable for those of us who dread winter. The lack of sunshine, bone chilling temperatures, and additional warm clothing can put out of good humor until spring. 

This week on NPR (National Public Radio), I heard a snippet of a story about ice instruments.  Norway put on a Ice Music Festival with instruments made completely of ice.  As I listened to what I could of the program, I was enamored with the possibility of making music out of something that seemed so unnatural. They called it the frozen sounds of winter. The thing about the whole process is the quality of the ice. Lakes produce the best ice and the man made variety will never do. Location can also be a problem as well. The temperature must be at zero (or below) or melting will occur, which could be disastrous for the instruments. I have to admit it was lovely to listen to. 

But why would someone want to sit outside in -15 degree temperatures to listen to music?  Can I buy the CD instead?

Photography, Books, Dreams, and Things

Not long ago, a man from FamilySearch.org met with a group that I am involved in about a project they want us to do for them (another visit tomorrow with the Big Whigs).  As you may or may not know, I am very interested in genealogy.  If I can do something to help others down their ancestral path, then I am all for it. Over the next couple of years, we will be involved with the folks from Utah to scan and upload information to their website plus it will also be transferred to an additional website so that people like you and me can research our family history for free. The book we are working on is well under way and should be completed this year too (we are crossing our fingers). There are only four more sections at the cemetery to photograph and then we will begin to put our complied information together.  I am very excited to be involved in such wonderful projects. 

Someone said to me over the weekend that we are chess pieces that are moved around for our greater good.  Things happen for a reason...This is when "Dreams become things". Dreams were never meant to stay in our heads but to become a reality.  I never dream't that my search, which started ever so many years ago, would take me to where I am now. 

When I was recently asked what was one of my major accomplishments was for my life,  I quickly piped up and said that becoming a DAR was something that I only dreamed of becoming in the last few years, which became a reality back in October.  I am going to keep dreaming. But more than that, I am going to make them come alive with good intentions and lots of determination. Prayer doesn't hurt either. 

Now, if I could just get to England for a visit then I would be extremely happy...

Aunt Aggie: 90 Years a Slave

Her mother was born free. She was snatched from her native land and brought to a place that was strange and the climate not to her liking. The ship docked in Virginia and all of the captives were unloaded like cattle to be sold. I don't know what year that was, but I read that it was before the Revolution.  

The Campbell's were rich and the government sold them a lot of land at a cheap price.  They needed help to develop the land.  Aggie was about 10 years old when she came to live with my 9th Great-Grandfather back in Virginia.when the Revolution began. The Campbell family lived in Virginia until 1796 and then made their way to Jefferson County, Tennessee with a land grant under their belt. Archibald Campbell died in 1801 and Aggie was passed on to James, Archibald's son.  When James passed away in 1826, Aggie went to live with Robert Fleming Campbell. In 1851, Robert and his family, with Aggie, moved to Dallas County, Texas. By this time, Aggie had children: Fay, Jim, and Archie.

Robert Fleming Campbell

Aunt Aggie witnessed another war. When the Civil War broke out her sons fought along side the rest of the soldiers for freedom. A freedom that they wanted more than life itself. Then came the Emancipation Proclamation.  She had been a slave for nearly 90 years.  She was finally free. Robert offered to care for her the rest of her life, but freedom was what they fought for. Just to taste it, like a forbidden fruit was all she wanted. Aggie's time wasn't long for this earth and she knew it. Along with Jake, her grandson, they left the farm to make their own way in the world. She is free at last...

I don't have that kind of mind

This past week, I had an "aha" moment.  I don't know about you, but I often wonder how people think.  Why they do the things that they do.

Relationships are hard. You don't have to marry someone from Africa to know that people are difficult to figure out, especially when it comes to the male/female relationship. Of all the bad things that happen in the world, I think that divorce is the worst. Nearly three years have gone by. Bewildered, I walked away not knowing what really happened. I often wondered what I could have done differently so that it would have lasted. I could blame his culture and religion along with it's followers, but what sense would that do? And I did do this for a long time. What was he thinking?  That is just it.  What was he thinking?  I have tried and tried to make sense of nonsense. I've spent too many hours pondering about things that are not meant for me to figure out. And yet, my mind kept going back to it. My focus went inward and I was in misery.

Art by Theophilis Smith

A friend of mine asked me how a murderer thinks? I was clueless. How would I know? I told her that I don't think like a murderer. My reasoning process is not the same. I cannot wrap my head around the concept of taking someone's life and it be okay or have no remorse for what I have done. I just don't have that kind of mind.  That's it!  I don't have that kind of mind.  I cannot understand because what happened would never occur to me to do to someone else.  I don't think that way. Afterwards, I felt a great sense of release. I have to unchain my mind from trying to make sense out of something that I don't have in me to do. It is not in my soul. In all honesty, it made me happy to finally see the light.  Everything passes, absolutely everything...sometimes it just isn't quick enough.