Mi Chica Chiripa

She lies on my lap as I write. Asleep. Now she stretches backward … falling from chair towards earth. I catch her one-handed and pull her back onto my lap where she wakes and begins to paw the sky, bite her tail, and then … my arm. Ears flatten onto her head and I lower her to the floor. Enough.

Chiripa, a/k/a Stroke of Good Luck, came into our lives unexpectedly. But, then again, maybe she didn’t. Not really. The week before her appearance on January 5, 2010, I’d talked to my sister and a friend about whether I was ready to add a new cat to the household. Was I finished grieving the death of my previous cat, Hiziki?

The weekend prior to Chiripa’s arrival we experienced a fire in our oven due to hardworking mice that carried dog food across the kitchen from dog bowl to inner stove. (See post-fire extinguisher evidence below.) We needed a mouser!

Also, weirdly, the day before we met Chiripa at the Vet Hospital I checked out a book from the library, Mew is for Murder. I wasn’t sure why I chose it. I scanned it first then walked away. Later I returned and carried the book to the check-out desk.

The mystery featured a woman writer who still mourned the death of her cat companion. At an opportune moment, though, she rescued a young kitten…. The plot seemed vaguely familiar.

During Chiripa’s first few days with us I read the book and resonated with the author’s descriptions of kitten behavior. I observed our own little six-week-old displaying strangely familiar behaviors to those of the kitten in the book. And, just like Theda Krakow and her little charge, Musetta, I could feel myself falling under the spell of Chiripa.

Frances and Chiripa:

This little kitten is unbridled joy. She leaps, dashes, and dances across floors and carpeting and climbs, stretches, and scratches her way up chairs, couch, and bed. In extreme play mode she hurdles herself sideways across the floor; her butt end insists on leading the way.

Chiripa's teeny white body is splashed with dramatically positioned black spots on nose, chin, over each eye, on the top of her head extending into each ear, on the back of her rear legs, on her bottom, and along her entire tail. Long white hairs grow out from the black tail and a tiny white tip—reminiscent of a piece of fuzz—graces the very end.

Do I sound like a new mom? I don’t carry photos in my wallet but I do have a few digital shots handy….

We couldn’t be happier with our new little babe who is—once again—sleeping in my lap as I type at my keyboard…. Sorry, folks, our camera skills are still developing (we don't think the flash is working). We'll try again later.

Give me one wild word* ...

Have a Little Faith, Mitch Albom
Anger: Wisdom for Cooling the Flames, Thich Nhat Hanh
Finding Beauty in a Broken World, Terry Tempest Williams

Recently I’ve engaged myself in a book free-for-all. I read whenever I can squeeze in a moment, an hour, a day …

I’m reminded of my childhood when—after carrying armloads of books out of the library—I realized that there were so many good books in the world there was absolutely no way I could read them all. A literary variation on the theme: “So many women, so little time….”

Last week I finished Mitch Albom’s Have a Little Faith. Albom’s earlier book, Tuesdays with Morrie, was the bestselling memoir of all time. I loved Morrie. And … I have to say that I loved this book too. Albom is an inspiring writer. He chooses topics—people—that he comes to know in an intimate and endearing way. He then renders his conversations and interactions with these people in words that create lasting, poignant, and powerful pictures.

Faith is the story of Albom’s journey to learn more about the Jewish faith of his boyhood as he comes to understand the faith of two men of God: Albert Lewis and Henry Covington. Lewis, the rabbi of the synagogue Albom attended in his youth, asks Albom to give the eulogy at his funeral. Thus begins an eight year friendship between the two men though, at first, Albom thought that he was merely getting to know his rabbi better in order to write his eulogy.

Albom juxtaposes this friendship with his growing connection with Covington, an African-American pastor in Detroit. Covington formed I am My Brother’s Keeper Ministry following his personal struggles with drug dealing, drug addiction, and, finally, prison.

Initially Albom distrusted Covington’s morals and motivations. As he wrote articles about Covington’s work feeding and housing the homeless and spent more time at Covington’s church, Albom discovered that Covington was as faithful and faith-filled as his own rabbi. Both men were immensely generous and compassionate. Both men built their lives based on trust and faith in a higher power beyond their comprehension.

Miraculously—and perhaps because Albom is also forthcoming about his own struggles with religion and faith—Albom’s book builds a community of readers on their own individual journeys of faith. Albom’s personal faith in the power of good in the world grows as his own heart opens and his preconceptions and misapprehensions fade.

Albom's book shows that faith dwells in all of us regardless of our religion, race, background, or experience. Have a Little Faith is a small book with a large message about the importance of faith, hope, love, and compassion. Albom's profiles of Lewis and Covington—along with Albom’s honest portrayal of his own struggles with faith—teach us about the power of compassion, acceptance, and loving service to others.

I’m currently reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, Anger. This Buddhist monk and Vietnamese refugee writes with amazing simplicity about Buddhist principles and practices designed to bring more compassion into our lives. Hanh believes we can all become kinder, gentler, more compassionate people using a few simple tools such as slowing down, breathing, mindfully walking and eating, deep listening, and loving communication.

Hanh’s teachings on how to handle anger are simple and—perhaps for some—simply weird. Still, I find his words comforting and encouraging. We can become kinder, more open human beings if we’re willing to examine some of the most fundamental aspects of our lives: the food we eat, the liquids we drink, the breath we breathe, and the time we take to chew our food and contemplate our inner suffering.

Our anger, Hanh writes, is like our own baby who we must care for with compassion and love. When we become better acquainted with our suffering, we are more able to heal it.

Just begun … Terry Tempest Williams’ book, Finding Beauty in a Broken World. This book is composed of three essay-topics: learning how to create mosaics in Ravenna, Italy; observing prairie dogs on the brink of extinction; and building a war memorial in a small village in Rwanda. Though different in theme and intent, in each essay and the book as a whole, Williams works to create a better, more beautiful world out of the broken pieces she finds.

*From Terry Tempest Williams' introduction to her book, Finding Beauty in a Broken World

Living Simply ... Simply Living

I thoroughly enjoyed Christmas in Baltimore and my subsequent visit with friends in Minneapolis. It was great fun to visit the National Aquarium, the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (MIA), Whole Foods, Half Price Books, a variety of restaurants, and more. Still, by the time I returned home to the woods I was overwhelmed by the too-muchness of it all....

Now that I've lived in the woods for seven years I've adopted a simpler lifestyle out of necessity and choice. I love that simplicity. Here I live frugally. I find my entertainment and nurturance in the woods and waters that surround me. I visit the library frequently. I spend my money locally when possible.

I discovered--or remembered--when I ventured out from under my forest canopy that cities are typically filled with endless stimulation, unending noise, constant marketing/advertising, and a multitude of opportunities to buy-buy-buy. In Minneapolis, for example, I filled my days with a trip to a movie theater to see Invictus, an afternoon at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts to view their exhibit from the Louvre in Paris, and a breakfast, lunch and dinner with three different friends. In addition I watched TV (my home television is only used to view DVDs and videos) and shopped at a coop, bookstore, and bread store.

By the end of my travels I longed for the peace and quiet of my woodland home. While visiting over this holiday season I often thought about Frances's and my trip to Central America last winter. We spent our Christmas at Cerros Beach Resort in northern Belize just across the border from Mexico. On Christmas Day we traveled with one of our hosts to several local families' homes to deliver toys to their children. Three of the children lived with a chronic, undiagnosed health condition that crippled their bodies and left their parents filled with despair.

Frances and I then celebrated the beginning of 2009 in Placencia, Belize. There we were surrounded by local people who lived simple lives out of necessity. People rode bikes or travelled by bus. Some bikers balanced ladders on their shoulders as they rode. Others carried children or groceries.

My observations from two consecutive years of traveling over the Christmas/New Year holiday?

Our world is desperately out of balance. All of us--Americans first and foremost--must learn to live more sustainably in order to cope with climate change, famines, energy and water shortages, economic downturns, job loss, and more. I'm reminded of a comment about the movie Avatar. The writer said that we must stop blaming corporations for despoiling our natural world. First, this person suggested, we need to look at ourselves and accept responsibility for our own insatiable appetites for more things at cheaper prices.

Duane Elgin led the way toward a simpler life over 30 years ago with his book, Voluntary Simplicity. Today he continues to encourage: Live a life in which you determine what's important and "enough" for you and discard the rest. He challenges us to choose to live "in a way that is outwardly simple and inwardly rich."

There are many resources available for those of us who wish to create balance in our lives. Unfortunately, American advertising is a well-oiled machine ... and an efficient and effective one at that. We often don't realize when we're being directed to spend money on unnecessary items (one example, the circuitous route we followed through the National Aquarium in Baltimore required us to navigate through food areas in order to move from exhibit to exhibit).

Like me, you may have to step back from life as it is to realize the extent to which media outlets bombard you with must-haves and ultimately determine the cultural norms by which you live. To learn how to do more with less go to Elgin's website at http://www.simpleliving.net/ or visit http://www.choosingvoluntarysimplicity.com/. (Thanks to my friend, Doug, for modeling this lifestyle many long years ago.)