Fall '08

Thank gods, thank gods, the semester is over.

This picture is my favorite drawing from Art 108. It's a pencil sketch of a marble statue of Baldur the Beautiful. Baldur is being good enough to present my GPA for this term.

I'm going to post more of of my art, and some of John's as well. :)

Favorite Carols

Top three, to keep it simple:

"We Three Crones" to the tune of "We Three Kings"
We three crones of magic-past are,
Bearing gifts, we traverse afar,
Fields & fountain, moor & mountain,
Following each our star.
Chorus:

Oh, star of wonder, star of might,
Star of radiant beauty bright,
Inward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us with thy magick light.

Gold I bring, the Earth's hidden gleam,
Guards our Mem'ry, draws forth our dream;
Weary-curing, strong enduring,
Holding time's circling stream.
Chorus

Frankincense I carry with me.
Incense aids the spirit to see;
Analyzing, wise, up-rising,
Sense of the Earth, flow free!
Chorus

Myrrh is mine, it's bitter perfume
Lifts new life, a magical broom;
Praying, flying, purifying,
Away with old lingering gloom.
Chorus

Glorious gifts of magic we praise,
Maiden, Mother, Ancient of Days;
Strength, and sense, and energy; whence
Return to our sacred ways.
Chorus


Next, "Share the Light" to the tune of "The First Noel"

On this Winter holiday, let us stop and recall
That this season is holy to one and to all.
Unto some a Son is born, unto us comes a Sun,
We gather together that all paths are one.
Chorus:

Share the light, share the light!
Share the light, share the Light!
All paths are one on this holy night!

Be it Chanukah or Yule,
Christmas time or Solstice night,
All celebrate the returning light.
Lighted tree or burning log,
Or eight candle flames.
The light is what's holy, whatever their names.

and third, "Gloucester Wassail," with no changes necessary. :)

Wassail, wassail all over the town
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee

So here is to Cherry and to his right cheek
Pray God send our master a good piece of beef
And a good piece of beef that may we all see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee

And here is to Dobbin and to his right eye
Pray God send our master a good piece of pie
A good piece of pie that may we all see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee

So here is to Broad Mary and to her broad horn
May God send our master a good crop of corn
And a good crop of corn that may we all see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee

And here is to Fillpail and to her left ear
Pray God send our master a happy New Year
And a happy New Year as e'er he did see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee

And here is to Colly and to her long tail
Pray God send our master he never may fail
A bowl of strong beer! I pray you draw near
And our jolly wassail it's then you shall hear

Come butler, come fill us a bowl of the best
Then we hope that your soul in happiness rest
But if you do draw us a bowl of the small
Then down shall go butler, bowl and all

Then here's to the maid in the lily white smock
Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock
Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin
For to let these jolly wassailers in.

I totally love singing these same old songs every year- sometimes with new words, sometimes not. I adore "Do You Hear What I Hear," always have. I'd love to hear anyone else's favorites.

Give Thanks

Fun fact about Meg: a major part of my spiritual practice is gratitude. I use prayers of thanks to ground, center, and remind myself how lucky I am. This season brings this practice to the forefront because I get the unusual opportunity to hear from others on the subject of that which makes them feel most thankful.

A litany, then, of blessings. I am so very blessed.

The elements of life are all around me. I am them, they are me.






The world is full of hungry desperate people and I am lucky enough to live among people who do not go hungry, who do not allow each other to go hungry. I am fed by these people and the Earth every day.




I have a strong, beautiful faith that informs and comforts me. I have a community of like minded people building a future together.


I have an awesome husband. He is my best friend and my equal, and I love him so much.


I have a wonderful family.




I have amazing, intelligent friends who shape my world.







I am privileged to go to school.


My life is not always easy or ever perfect, but it is lovely. I learn something every day, love someone every day, work hard, play hard, and think hard. I am so, so lucky this Thanksgiving.

Tolerance II

It has been brought to my attention that my blog of late has been angry, hateful, and unfair.

I agree with that assessment.

I have been angry, absolutely outraged. I feel almost as bad as if mine were one of those marriages now put in jeopardy. I feel threatened, my beliefs and way of life attacked, and betrayed by people I have come to respect and trust.

However, in my anger, I became blind to the sensibilities of those same people that I do so love and respect. I have been needlessly offensive because I was offended. I have reacted to the actions of a body of people and hurt individuals. I am so sorry for this.

I am old enough to know that it's not going to solve a damned thing. I'm also old enough to have very few outlets for feelings like the absolute disbelief and rage I have felt. I'm not marching on anybody's temple; I find violence and vandalism in the name of any cause abhorrent. I let off my steam here, in my blog, and I crossed the line.

I am so very sorry. I have had a stone tied to my heart since I realized how hurtful some of my posts have been. If I had been on the receiving end of the same, I would have gone absolutely nuclear.

I thank the gods that I have wonderful, courageous people in my life like my mother in law and sister in law who are willing to set me on my ass and tell me they are angry. It takes a lot of guts to do that with family and I am humbled and instructed by it. It is thanks to them that I am able to see this from another angle.

I love my LDS family, without exception or qualification. I have to remember to hold that separate from politics.

I am so, so sorry for any harm I have done here. Please understand it was never my intention, though it may look that way. I just needed to scream and be heard. I'm not excusing myself or justifying what I said, but trying to explain.

I, too, am learning to be tolerant. These are the times that try our souls.

All apologies are rendered with a contrite heart and a sincere wish to make this right.

I am sorry.

Untitled

we're living in the house that the Blues Brothers built
the house of the miracle
of the fool
we are learning to knit from invisible hope
to keep us warm
bake dreams into bread
running from rednecks, from Nazis, Princess Leia
singing our song
on a mission from God
knowing that fortune favors the fool
chasing destiny down highways
over rivers
back home
where we are
living in the house that the Blues Brothers built

M. L. Elison 2008

Tolerance

I have been wrestling of late with a hard idea. Wresting, struggling... these are the words. I am overcome by this issue again and again. Like the guardian at the gate, it refuses to move until I learn the answer, speak the password, guess Rumplestiltskin's name.

I am tolerant. I am exceedingly tolerant and pluralist in all things. I want to welcome everyone, learn from everyone, create a place for everyone. My problem is the specific issue of intolerance. How can I welcome and learn from people who will not welcome or learn from me, or my brother, or my best friend? How can I pry open my heart to people who keep theirs blind, deaf, and dead to the world?

I should feed my enemies. I should invite them to the feast and serve them in any way I can; make my open heart their home and lead by example. These last few weeks I have not been able to get there. All I can think about is marching on temples, creating fear to match the fear they have set upon our state... In short, all I can think of is revenge and counterstrike.

Intellectually, I know this is folly and worse than folly. This is the road to war.

I found myself on this road for the first time this November. The pit of my stomach grows icy with rage, my chest burns, and I want my pain to spread. I trudge up this rocky road, burning and cursing and not thinking. My better nature is the hint of a hint of a faraway drum, but my primal need for vengeance is beating a fever pace up and over this hill into enemy territory. Once there, I can think only of bringing this struggle to hellish fruition. The road I travel is littered with concepts and words and laws and boundaries, all cast aside upon the road to battle. Over the rest of the hill, I find only dead men and women who can no longer see those causes for which they fought and fell. I know this is not my road. I am surprised at myself for walking it. I can leave my weapons here with the dead; I trust them to let no one take them up again. I can turn around and walk home.

I'm not going to say I'm not angry anymore. I am still very angry and that keeps a candle burning on what is yet to be done. But our people need not fight on the other side of that hill.

We have found something to fight for. We don't have to settle for a few small-minded groups to fight against.

We must build a new world. We must not be afraid. And yes, we must serve our enemies, invite them to the feast, and endure their ignorance until they learn. They will learn. Their children will learn. Tolerance for all, equality to all.

Times will change.

We shall overcome.

So mote it be.