• Tag Archives Sarah
  • Paul and Sarah – Before They Left

    Summer                                                           Under the Lily Moon

    Over to the area of Lake Calhoun near the Bakken Museum today.   The lake had people biking, running, exercising, doing yoga, lying on towels.  A busy place with people grabbing the Minnesota summer when it let up from rains.

    An open house for Paul and Sarah Strickland.

    Paul and Sarah have a place in a great part of the world, on the St. Croix River, looking across the river the land they see is New Brunswick.  The famous Bay of Fundy is not far from them and the tides there are legendary for their extremes.

    Saw Bill and Regina, Warren and Sheryl, Mark Odegard there.  Scott Simpson and Yin were coming as we were leaving.  I came home to get a nap before the drive out to Woodbury.

    This part of Woodbury has very upscale homes settled on Wild Canyon Drive and Wild Canyon Trail.  It’s lovely, with mature trees, some elevation and many homes set far back from the road.

    The ceremony tonight featured Paul and Sarah and how their friends, their family, the “people who see us” as Sarah said, had connected with them and sustained them through the years.  Warren and Sheryl, Tom and Roxann, Stefan and Lonnie were there representing the Woollies.

    I confess to some dis-ease with the Native American cum Mayan slant to the ceremonial part of the evening.  It feels like poaching, taking this and that into a melange that ends up being a little hokey.*  If I put that aside, the evening allowed for time together with Paul and Sarah, a chance to chat with others and a chance to express feelings of loss and connection.

    Ross Levin, a financial planner who writes a column for the Star-Tribune was there, as was Eric Utne of Utne Reader fame.  They were part of Paul’s second men’s group, the Outliers.

    It was a classic Minnesota summer evening.  A twilight with rosy clouds backlit the St. Paul Cathedral and the Minnesota Capitol Building, framing, as they did, the business center of downtown St. Paul.  The Mississippi reflected back both the darkening blue of the  sky and the rose and gold tints in the sky.

    An evening, in the end, of good-byes.

    *addendum  I know this may be harsh and in one sense my inclination is to say so be it.  But.  While the frame had questionable elements, the caring and love demonstrated did not.

    In that vein I realize that my judgments on these matters may reflect a concept of purity and authenticity too strong for these instances.  Cultural patrimony is always fluid and cultures do absorb and adapt learnings from others all the time.

    All of these folks have a genuine spiritual journey on which a Native American sensibility has come to have meaning.  In the end it is not the container but the ancientrail that is important and the ancientrail here is one of love and care for each other and for our mother, the earth.  Blessed be.


  • Undercurrents and Subtext

    74  bar steady 29.75 3mph W dew-point 49  Summer, sunny and pleasant

    Waxing Gibbous Thunder Moon

    A party.  Kate and I are not party people.  We both prefer a night at home or the theater or classical music, but we’re headed out tonight because of Paul Strickland’s kids.   Kate Strickland, oldest, heads out in two weeks for Japan.  She’s going to Kyoto prefecture to teach English as part of the JET program, a government sponsored ESL that places applicants in the Japanese school system.

    The backyard party at their 4900 block Colfax Avenue home in Minneapolis had many people we did not know, but Stefan Helgeson and Lonnie were there.  Stefan, Paul and I represented the Woolly Mammoths.

    Such parties have, like family reunions, undercurrents and subtext.  The lines of relationship, for example, the casual observer would assume ran strongest among Paul, Stefan, and me.  Only partly true.  Lonnie and Sarah (Strickland) were friends of mine for a couple of years before their husbands pulled me into the orbit of the Woolly Mammoths.

    There was Kate Strickland’s closing of this chapter in her New York life.  Why?  Unsaid.  There was Lonnie’s recovery, less than a month along, from cancer surgery.  A rare great outcome.  No chemo or radiation needed because they caught the uterine cancer at its earliest stage.  Paul’s work, entangled with his across the alley neighbor, is in uncertain times.  Stefan has had a come to Jesus moment with Lonnie’s cancer surgery, “I find it difficult now to not do the things I want to do.”

    Overhanging the whole is the generational tide sweeping those of us over 60 toward years of a new time while our kids go to Japan, have their own children, become 2d Lts in the Air Force, head off to college, or graduate from college.

    This event was in no way unusual in these subtexts and undercurrents and I’m confident there were more, perhaps darker ones, about which I know nothing.   Any time we human beings gather we bring with us the scent of our current life and the trail on which we have walked to get there.  As social creatures our scents intermingle creating a perfumed community while our paths (ancientrails) intersect and deflect, generating paths of a slightly different direction than the one we were on before.  This is life as we live it, as we must live it.

    Running through my mind today has been a bumper sticker I saw years ago during the controversy over the Boundary Waters.  I was in Ely and noticed a local pickup truck.   Plastered on the gate the bumper sticker read:  Sierra Club, kiss my axe.  That was redolent of a real debate, an actual conflict between parties with drastically different visions.  Politics and its cousin the law are the arenas in which, in a democracy, we slug out conflicts without, hopefully, violence.  I like conflict and the clash of ideas, the taking up of the sword in defense of an ideal, a vision.  Being back on the battlefield brings sparks to my eyes.  Fun.