I’m in Maine.
It’s hard to believe I’ve been coming here for nearly fifteen years.
First to do a training or give a sermon. Then to consult with the Restorative Justice Institute of Maine, followed by working with a small group of Unitarians to start the Portland Center for Restorative Justice. In 2020 I entered into a contract with the Cumberland County District Attorney to do RJ in-house.
Most recently, a small group of us started Cumberland County Friends of Restorative Justice to engage the community at large in the paradigm shift from “punishment to repair”, training sixteen volunteers last week to represent the community in facilitated dialogues with offenders. It’s good work and has kept me grounded.
This trip I’m staying at an Airbnb, converted from an 1880’s mansion built by a papermill tycoon.
My room overlooks the Presumpscot River,
offering a particular perspective.
In between the training, Zoom dialogues, in-person dialogues, coffee or lunch with friends and acquaintances, and a couple of hikes in the Presumpscot River Preserve, I’ve tried to keep up.
It’s a challenge to know where to look. The main stream media is under attack from within or perhaps, more accurately, from above. I even have concerns about The NY Times, a favorite for years along with NPR and the BBC.
So I seek out those individuals and institutions I’ve deemed credible.
Paul Krugman, late of the Times.
Heather Cox Richardson, a professor of history at Boston College, and a Mainer.
The Contrarian,
the Conversation,
and the Borowitz Report.
He’s such a funny guy.
I’ve increased my support for the ACLU,
and PEN America,
supporting them and the others with monthly contributions.
Without financial support from a lot of us, where would we be?
But I don’t start my day with any of them. Not a good idea.
Instead, most morning’s before sunrise, I crawl into a cocoon of wisdom, drawing inspiration, strength, and perspective from wise ones who encourage us, each in their own way, to step back.
Ursula Le Guin’s wonderful translation of the Tao Te Ching.
Chuang Tzu, also a very funny guy.
The words of the Buddha,
and J. Krishnamurti,
the great 20th century Indian mystic and philosopher.
And Whitman, of course.
And every morning I’m reminded by Native American poet, Jay Harjo, of what’s truly important.
As we move forward in a world in which trust in so many things is fading, I wonder how we might hold onto that which we call “soul” - as well as our sanity.
Is it possible for us to be so intentional in our daily lives that we can stave off nihilism, and even maintain a moral/spiritual compass?
I’m planning a trip in late March to New Mexico with my Scamp, my dog, and my telescope. I want to camp under the stars in those places identified by DarkSky International as sanctuaries.
I want to “renew my vows” with my own voice.
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