Creative Arts and Healing
Spring Report! 
Dear friends -- The rain has swept my newly planted garden, the cat is on the deck licking rainwater out of a flowerpot dish, the sun is laying a pale stream of gold on the still lush rye grass, the camellias are still singing rose colored songs from between damp leaves, and I turn my thoughts to rebirth, as is befitting the season.

Rebirth is a bittersweet topic, as tomorrow marks the second anniversary of my father's death. Bob Sabaroff was almost ninety and had a life of great accomplishment, adventure, friendship: architect, engineer, professor, patron of the arts, world traveler, there is nothing to mourn -- except the loss of his presence, his quirky and dependable pronouncements such as "Look with your eyes!" and "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." The latter was said with gentle mockery because he knew hope alone didn't always bring success to our endeavors, but it was said with compassion too, for humanity's lot.

As the world seems to be in revolution - across the ocean - and in America the parties who try to rule our democracy are fighting it out as to who can blame the loudest, I continue to live my life as if I am the governing hub of my little existence, my Ka-ness. I just finished up an eight week class at the women's prison, publishing an anthology of the amazing and profound writings of the inmates, that they named "Imaginations Uncovered" -- and oh what power imagination has, to free us from behind whatever bars appear to be locking us in. The women humble me with their strength, and they honor me with their sharing. The same is true for my class at a senior retirement community, where one of my students laughingly praised me for "flipping her switch" - that is, giving her creativity an outlet, something we all need.

I ponder what's next --- a new class coming up at the prison next week, a new class at the senior center in April, a trip out to Oregon in August to celebrate my 50th high school reunion -- seeing people i haven't been in touch with since i left home for college at seventeen! And more immediately, more veggies planted, more veggies harvested, more walks in the neighborhood, more work on my Wheel of Belonging book of sermons and faith columns, hopefully to be printed by June -- when my garden is reaching its peak! More Tuesday morning stints at the homeless shelter, preparing and serving food to those who have lost their jobs, their homes, but hopefully not their hopeful spirit; i count my blessings as I ladle out their casseroles, I pray for a society who counts the homeless as true members
of our planetary family.

Readers, I ask you now as I ask myself - what is being reborn today? What do we have faith in? How do we want to spend our time, our energy, our money? What words lie hidden within us waiting for expression? What evolutionary visions have we of this season, of the promise of tomorrow? Let us not forget that idealism is its own reward, so much more practical than cynicism or despair!

Write to me - share with me - dance with me - as the rain stops and the sun comes out. I praise our intimacy across whatever divides us.


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