The Irony of Labor Day

I have often thought that the way we tend to shunt aside problems is to crystallize them as holidays. Once the problem is a holiday, to which we can pay lip service once, annually, as we pour out our alcoholic libations, we put it completely out of mind. Labor Day is a case in point.

Labor Day has been celebrated nationally since 1882, if you can believe it.

The U.S. Department of Labor offers this explanation for the holiday:

Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country.

The irony is that Americans celebrate American Labor with a holiday observance while international business and government batter away at the average laborer's ability to earn a living wage under conditions that are safe and humane.

There is no sadder testament to this truth than the fact that California still has no legislation to insure that shade and water are provided for agricultural workers in the fields. This is not a new issue. I can remember marching with my parents in solidarity with farm workers in the 1960s and 1970s. A great many American authors, Sinclair and Steinbeck among many others, outline in their novels—often in shocking detail—how bosses and their political cronies take advantage of people in the workplace, wherever that may be—whether in the fields or in any office nationwide.

When you go to your local farmer’s market and purchase the “amazing” organic produce that you love to eat, remember those who harvest the food that sustains you. While you are attending your barbeques, watching ball games, try to remember that Labor really does sustain the world we take for granted, and that we are all the laborers of the fields of life.

And then think for a minute: How is your workplace treating you? In our hyper-connected high tech world, chances are you are tethered to your job more than you might want to admit, and being compensated a lot less for the amount of time you tend your job. It is well worth thinking about.

On this day, put yourself in the sandals of a worker in another industry, for just a moment.

And say a prayer of thanks for all who labor.

Infusion For Reflecting on a Blue Moon Kind of Day

A Blue Moon, any way you cut the definitions, is an unusual occurrence.  

Tonight’s Blue Moon is the second occurrence for this calendar year, and we won’t have another until 2015!

I say: if a Blue Moon is an unusual occurrence, then this should be cause for a celebration!

However, let’s not make it a loud, raucous party. Perhaps, instead, the Blue Moon could be treated as an unusual opportunity to take time out for reflection, relaxation and rejuvenation. Maybe a cuppa will be just the thing for you!

An Infusion for a Blue Moon

Equal Parts blended in a tea ball or loose in the bottom of your teapot:

BASIL leaves– stimulates mental clarity, concentration and memory

LEMON BALM leaves – a simple sedative, mood elevator works well with other herbs

LAVENDER leaves and buds – stimulates memory, helps with headaches

ROSE flowers or buds– soothing on the nerves

ROSEMARY leaves and flowers – both stimulates and calms the system, standard infusion

SPEARMINT or CATNIP leaves – restorative, stimulant, fuel the imagination

SAGE leaves – a calming restorative, lowers blood pressure

Prepare as a standard infusion, steeping your desired mixture of these herbs and flowers in boiled water for 15 to 20 minutes, 32 measures water to 1 measure of the infusion mixture. Pull out the tea ball or strain the infusion into your favorite mug. Sweeten or not, as you like. A bit of lemon juice might be lovely, if you choose.

What makes this infusion blue for a Blue Moon is the blue flower of rosemary and the blue bud of lavender.

Sit back in a comfortable chair, sip the infusion. Listen to soothing music or to the silence that surrounds you. Let calm and silence fill you. Let your brain and body feel refreshed.

And then, let your mind wander in focused memory and reflection. Be filled by your experience of this gift you are giving to yourself.

You know I am not a doctor, so any information I have to offer is not a prescription, but a soothing recipe.

Peace be with and in you! 

What I Wouldn't Give

Though we’ve never met,
we meet constantly

—In my dreams before waking,
in my waking thoughts,
in the sparkle on bay water
that blinds my senses

In the rare moment of quiet,
I apprehend the simplicity
of your great magnitude,
so near, we should be touching—

Yet, there is no need,
for we are, by near and far,
flexibly and inextricably
inlaid upon one another,
a complex, shared mosaic
of music and spirit,
tumbling into bits
and reforming
amid and among
the indelible, ineffable all.

What I wouldn’t give
to be face to face,
blinded by your beauty.

But I would not survive
the unraveling it would take
to get to where you are Now.

I am, you are,
and we together are us—

And, for the love of Now,
that will have to do.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Collaborations

for my twins and all twins everywhere

About connections and intersections,
we have learned very little,

but they are everything;
without them, there would be no life.

Is there something somewhere else?
No, it is all right here, right now,
waiting for you to choose,
waiting for you to act.

The magic place is here and now,
the alchemy is in the meetings,
—sacred ground is everywhere,
tread with courage, care and smiles.

Those who say “self-made” are lost;
no one goes alone in this place
—it is how we meet and greet and treat
the faces we encounter each day.

See what is before you, recognize
yourself in every time and place,
and know that all others share
experience no different from yours.

All things will change and pass,
you and all beings will change,
we shall all be changed
—but not our comings and goings.

On our meetings we are tested,
day in week in years past lustrum,
in our meetings we are judged,
not in what we have or know.

Be into being and being with,
the quality of life lies in being with
and well within with and in each,
with all the best regards possible.

When you can see yourself
in another, in and by giving,
you will know the magic place
is your heart meeting others.

We must learn to be well met
in our connections and intersections;
meeting and being met is everything
to know and experience of life.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Creation

Sorting,
endlessly sorting
through endless strands of thought,
thickly tangled as they are,
as they would be,
among convoluted perceptions
and all cognitive mechanisms
beyond my awareness.

Sorting endlessly,
--like hacking through jungle growth
with a blunt machete--
it can be easy to forget
how close you really are,
in the farthest away unseen,
and with the twilight
and light’s fatigue
drawing us all inward toward repose,
I feel you near again,
and remember:

These strands we’ve spun,
together, you and I,
and we shall weave them
on your gold and silver loom,
through my night of dreaming;
we shall weave them into dawn.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Storm Eye Witness

From a troubled sea, I came;

From the tumult of my crashing waves,
longing for relief from my raging storm,
I came from a troubled sea.

Greeted by no berceuse
in this port from my storm,
instead by ringing and singing,
a laughing and crying and carrying on
about out and in relationships, on and off
emotions, pitching sonic waves and weavings,
an undulating web of rattling words in herds,
like the very waves I’d fled.

Troubled seeing, I became
witness to my world and wavering,
aware now that my dreams and waking
must be born of a troubled sea.

What started with prayerful hopes
ended with praying and awaking to active now;

I went up to thank them, to thank her and she,
but she conferred further blessing.

“You brought calm,” said she,
“having you here was calming,
like an anchor for our tossed ship,”
and from her I received kisses,
as though I had been the gift.

Thus anointed, I turned away,
thoughtfully moved to my return:
Eye of the Storm, I seem to be,
though storm-tossed I had felt;
calm came with me in my pocket,
along with my keys, my hanky and tears,
and fragments of hope and place
—and I never knew it was there.

I have had eyes, but did not see,
ears, but they did not hear—until now:
when you become the Eye of the Storm,
calm comes to be a friend and guest of your heart,
to share in the love, the pain and the laughter,
the onward, spiraling music of your being.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Updated 8/28/12:

Most of you don't know this, but my poetry is my diary. I sometimes write infrequently, but when I do write, it is to crystalize an experience that stands out and apart from the everyday. Music often inspires me. This particular poem was inspired by a performance of new chamber music in San Francisco by CMASH (an acronym for Chamber Music Art Song Hybrid). It was a wonderful performance! The lesson here: Art Inspires More Art!!! Find out about the wonderful people who make music happen at CMASH, and how you might even make a donation, by following the link. http://www.cmashmusic.org/

Slipping Along

Paddles dip softly,
fanning circles out,
canoe slips along
over lily pads
through silken waters.

Draw in, hold steady,
let the ducks float by;
the rings and ripples
of your movement
will fade in the mirror.

Centered in quiet,
centered in peace,
away from words
pressing in torrents,
begging for shallow response—

Here is respite from noise,
a place of reflection
on no mere surface tensions,
but inviting greater depth,
welcome, if unfamiliar.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen