“Autumn is the Mellow Time.” William Allingham
“Delicious Autumn, my very soul is wedded to it…” George Elliot
The last several mornings on my back porch have been filled with Goldilocks perfection, just warm enough, just cool enough, just right…bringing peace. My heart breathes a sigh of contentment, the intensity of summer in North Carolina is mellowing at last. 
Fall is my favorite season and comes late here on the coast, slowly evolving, and lingers into December. I love this gentle unfolding of its graces.
Elizabeth Bowen said it, “Autumn arrives in the early morning..” When after days of drenching rain it crept on into our yard early last Friday morning on cool fingers of fog, only poetry could describe its Siren Song:
Morning mist wanders in the limbs of the long leaf pine,
Drifting in wisps, blurring the edges of our garden
Into watercolors of soft green and gray, burnt sienna and sable,
Lightened by mere fingerprints of lingering mums,
Touches of rust and buttercream.
In circles of sound, crickets play perimeter harmonies,
Cardinals and warblers welcome the yet unseen sun, and
Overhead geese cry, Come, Come, Come, Come,
I will, I will, I will…..Come, Come, Come,
I will, You know I will.
Autumn lulls us with whirring cicadas,
Suffuses our senses with sunrises of scarlet, rose, amber, and yellowed gold,
Washes us luxuriant in lush leaf colors,
Palettes of crimson and cinnabar, jacinth and jessamine.
Come, come, come…I will, I will.
Sing to me autumn, sing your song of life fulfilled,
Enfold me in your slanted, soft, saffron, light,
Ripen me to completion, ready for harvest
As I finish the last niggling leaf in life’s story,
Come, come to me, Sing your song…I will,
I will.
No, I don’t write poetry often any more. 
But flights of geese arrow over head this morning, pointing me to answers, calling.
Can you see them? Can you hear them? Will you answer?
…I will.
Listen to the Salutation of the Dawn:
For yesterday is but a dream
Last week my family and I began texting, then calling, planning for the milestone birthday I celebrated on Sunday. I don’t know if people still think of 40 or 50 as “over the hill,” but this birthday sets me firmly, undeniable, over it. While I actually have never felt my age, and have more energy than many younger than me, some milestones are meant to make us take stock and reevaluate.
You see on Saturday, on Facebook, a 60+ year old friend posted, “I continue to worry that I will die young.” Knowing him as tongue in cheek guy, my first reaction was humorous, “Too Late,” since I thought “continue” was inserted as a word clue he was kidding, that he was saying “too late” himself, poking fun at his age. 
Age is supposed to bring wisdom. This birthday is a reminder: Unlike when I was a kid and all of life lay ahead, age teaches us time is precious. There are still things I want to do and time with my grandkids to plan. So my mantra is two-fold: Focus on what matters and Live each moment to its full potential for joy.
I’m gonna live till I die!
Gonna dance, gonna fly,
“Put one foot in front of the other. Turn off your TV. Power down your phone, say hi to your neighbor, and introduce yourself to a stranger. Connect. Be the unity you seek.” Joe Quinn
We aren’t now. We’ve lost the sense of direction and shared purpose we had. Quinn reminded me that the unity that was so palpable then. has fragmented till it feels as if we are locked in armed camps. Sadly, this seems equally true in the rest of the world. The growth of nationalism, isolationism, the rejection of refugees and immigrants, even Brexit, seem to signal a withdrawal from connection, the kind of tribal dissension that has raged in the Middle East for generations.
In America, two forces seem locked in combat and fearful animosity: Those who seek inclusion, unity with “the Other,” the offer of a helping people to those my faith calls “neighbor,” and a requirement for involvement in humanity; and on the other side, those who feel under personal attack, who feel left behind as the world moves forward, angered as their dreams slip from their grasp, they want to withdraw, put up walls, fall back, retrench, and protect themselves and those they love.
There is no right or wrong here, just different life experience. The problem comes when these groups begin to characterize the others, labeling them, blaming them, destroying any sense of American unity.
Sadly, in my opinion, the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps message” of our country doesn’t work well in a recession. It often doesn’t work well for minorities, the poor, or the undereducated. And jobs and work are changing in an increasingly technological world. I have lived where assembly line jobs at automotive plants and breweries were lost, where well-paying jobs disappeared as steel mills closed.
I can understand and support the idea of meeting the needs of our own citizens first. Yet, I would ask, “Can’t those in tough circumstances empathize with those in even worse conditions? Can’t we try to be bigger, help more? Can’t we still be the land of hope, of opportunity for anyone seeking it.
Together we can. United we can.
A lion prowled a field in which Four Oxen lived. Over and over, he attacked them; but whenever he did they turned their tails to warn each another, and whichever way he attacked he was met by the horns of one of them. At last, however, they quarreled and each went off alone to separate corners of the field. Then, the Lion attacked them one by one and that was the end of all of them.
The second is the story of a father whose sons are quarreling. He brings them a stick and a bundle of stick tied together. He breaks the single stick and asks them to try to break the bundle. They can’t. And he tells them, “My sons, if you unite to assist each other, you will be as this bundle, uninjured by all the attempts of your enemies; but if you are divided among yourselves, you will be broken as easily as this stick.”
That is a lesson that has endured for several thousand years. We need to listen to it today, and reach across what divides us to the common ground that unites us. We can seek the common good and elevate ourselves and the world at the same time.
Will we succeed in addressing every issue facing all of our citizens, and the world. Not easily, not the first time, and no, not with the first attempt. Yet, one of our strengths is perseverance. Americans aren’t quitters. In his article, Cohen used a Samuel Beckett quote to express this, “Ever tried. Ever failed. Try Again. Fail again. Fail Better.”
Today is the 15th Anniversary of the terrorist attack on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. I served at Ground Zero with The Salvation Army for several weeks in the immediate aftermath, arriving in New York City on September 14th. (I wrote a detailed memoire recounting my experience, the link to this is 
My husband, Doug, also went with our team, and even at that time both of us believed it could carry long-term consequences. The pervasive heavy grey dust we walked through, the smoke in the air, and the smell of the rising fumes were certainly warnings. and our aid station was in the debris field, initially on a fallen girder from the South Tower. (as right)
Though Doug worked the 12 hour night shift with the Night Crawlers, and I was on a 12 hour “Day Watch,” we wrote notes and discussed it, even the possibility it would shorten our lives. Several times when the smoke was blowing toward us, the EPA told me the air “was bad.” But my team stayed. Both of us have had health consequences.
For us, somewhat like I have heard from family who served in World War II, our time there and our work there will always be the most meaningful experience in our lives. So, going back, visiting the Memorial Museum, seeing the fountains was something I have wanted to do for years. And just as I had hoped, going there with my daughter and sharing my memories with her, was poignant yet healing. (To the right, me at one of the memorial fountains.
When I climbed through a broken window into the Ground Zero site, the first things I saw, and I am sure you remember from iconic pictures, were twisted pieces of metal, girders, and large pieces of the exterior aluminum support sheathing which fell and embedded themselves into the ground.
To the left of our girder were the remains from the bottom exterior of the North Tower (WTC1). Another iconic image to responders, these support arches held up the aluminum exterior sheath of the North Tower, reminding me of the arches seen inside gothic churches, and pictures of bombed churches in World War II. (on left)
It was the first sign to me of how hard the designers had worked to create a place of memory for people who had images of the disaster seared into their minds and linked to their grief, and simultaneously, it was an indication of resurrection and redirection. To me, these new teeth, reminders of pain, had become wings, attached to the earth into which the originals were imbedded, but reaching for the sky.
Because I knew this would be emotional to me, once inside I chose not join a group with a tour guide, but to go with my daughter at our own pace through the displays. As we descended the stairs to the below ground museum, we saw the first remains of the Trade Center. There was one of the North Tower “church” arches, against a multi-paned window reaching for the light. Again, pain yet relief, remembrance and transformation, but united by the same sense of entering a sacred place I felt every time I brought supplies for the first responders into Ground Zero.
Then, we descended further next to the Survivor Stairs down which many in the North Tower escaped, and we reached the next amazingly sensitive piece of art, an immense wall of blue, a touching quote. Again, sharp memory.
This quote from the Aeneid, “No Day Shall Erase You From The Memory of Time” is set against Spencer Finch’s immense blue art installation of 2,983 individual watercolor renderings by artists of what color the sky appeared to be to them that September 11th. Each one unique, the squares represent each person killed in the original attack in 1993 and those in 2001, each person as distinct in memory as the different colors of blue sky.
My daughter and I passed a preserved though damaged fire truck, a glass encased fireman’s helmet, a wall outlining flight paths and a step by step progression of events, the slurry wall that held, many pictures, and places to listen to audio recordings from that tragic day. So many stops, a Via Dolorosa of tears for me. I know it wasn’t easy for Gretchen to watch it hurt me. She has more empathy than most and I am sure she felt my pain. I think she also felt my healing.
The last location I will share from the visit is aptly named “the Last Column.” During the clean up and recovery work that lasted until May 30, 2002, this support column from the southeast corner of the South Tower was left in place and intact to represent the resiliency of our country, to show that, despite this cowardly but devastating attack, America, like the column, was still standing.
made me proud to have worked for The Salvation Army which on September 11th, as at all other times, truly was a strong army of salvation. The only agency authorized to serve inside the fenced perimeter, in a little more than 8 months, during Operation Compassion Under Fire, 39,000 officers, staff, and volunteers provided over 3 million meals and over 1 million volunteer hours.
Perhaps, most importantly, Salvation Army counselors provided emotional and spiritual support in extraordinarily difficult circumstances to the brave rescue and recovery workers there. I was blessed to have been part of that effort.
We must never forget that at Ground Zero, at the Pentagon, and on a Plane that crashed in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, heroes arose among us. First responders, military personnel, the amazing passengers and crew of Flight 93 AND ordinary citizens who helped strangers down the stairs or led others crawling out of smoke-filled corridors, those who gathered supplies on girders, who brought in pizzas to Ground Zero, and boys and girls who packed lunches with colored pictures thanking the rescue workers, heroes arose among us.
“Finding your calling — it’s not passive. When people have found their calling, they’ve made tough decisions and sacrifices in order to do the work they were meant to do. In other words, you don’t just ‘find’ your calling — you have to fight for it. And it’s worth the fight. People who’ve found their calling have a fire about them,” says Dave Isay, the winner of the 2015 TED Prize. “They’re the people who are dying to get up in the morning and go do their work.”
Webster defines a calling as “a strong inner impulse toward a goal or career, especially when accompanied by a conviction of divine influence; a profession or vocation.
All three have been true in my life as I moved from teaching into social work, management, and therapy, and back to teaching. Working with others in these various forms has felt like just different versions of the same call to me. However, I don’t know if I agree with Mr. Isay that every calling results in appreciation or requires it.
I find myself returning to this topic because finding and living my call is so central to my life, and because ultimately, I believe everyone has a calling. I think we are all meant to look for and live out a call and find that fulfillment sometimes in our work, sometimes in our avocations.
This sense that life was meant to have meaning and that a purpose was there to be discovered started when I was very young. For me, though not for everyone, it is wrapped up in a sense that God, or the universe if you’d like, had a need for me to do my part in a bigger plan. As Frederick Buechner put it, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
For me, my calling has evolved. Now, I see my writing as a call. In my blog and in my novel, titled unsurprisingly, The Call, I am trying to share the awareness my work and life has brought me. I don’t know if there is any hunger for this in the world, or if there will ever be appreciation or recognition. I may or may not get my book published, or find an audience for my words. But as Dave Isay says, perhaps the work and the fight to keep doing it isn’t meant to be easy. It certainly can require persistence. But, at least for me, it is a necessity.
So what is your calling? Is it something you’re doing or thinking about doing? Do you have something only you can share? Is your heart or mind pulling you or pushing you or are you searching for that sense of direction? Find it. Be who you are and who you are meant to be.
Are you feeling fulfilled in what you are doing or struggling to find a meaning and a purpose? Are you out there seeking the “justice, glory, and worth” I dreamed of as a teen, or searching for something else? Do you need to practice or go back to school or change jobs or make the time to do what you know is important to you? Whatever it is: Do it. Don’t give up, don’t quit, keep going!
Can you hear your call? It is saying, “You have a place in the world that is uniquely yours and the world needs you.” Come live it.
“You’ve got to accentuate the positive,
I remember in 1961 when President Kennedy said that we would put a man on the moon by the end of the decade. When he made that promise, we had only just achieved a sub-orbital flight by Alan Shepard. To leave our atmosphere, travel to the moon, and return was almost beyond imagining. It was an ambitious vision, some said a profoundly over-ambitious goal. Yet just over eight years later in the summer of 1969, we gathered around our televisions to watch as Neil Armstrong made his “one step” and humankind’s “giant leap” into space.
It seems to me that we are in a wrestling match right now about America’s vision for itself and its leaders vision for us. I believe as individuals and as a country the Proverb “without vision, the people perish” applies, and I believe vision has to be positive, a forward-look that will carry us into a brighter future. True vision is never a backward glance, a yearning for the impossible hope of re-capturing the perfect past.
It is easy to talk about and all too easy to believe in a cherry picked view of an idyllic past. We all have selective memory about those shinning moments, those golden days, and gloss over our past failures, pain, and wrong choices.
as well as huge budget deficits and Tiananmen Square; the 90s saw the break-up of Soviet Union, but the rise of terrorism and the first attack on the World Trade Center; the 2000s saw increased the rise of al-Qaeda, the 2001 terrorism attacks, wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the Banking Crisis and Great Recession, yet the election of the first African-American.
The past held successes, but was far from perfect…except in romanticized memory.
In fact, what I believe we need to do to move forward to a better future is to do what Kennedy did. We need to set positive, almost unachievable goals and reach for them. We need to ask, “What is the next “moonshot” for our country? What is the future dream for us as individuals?”
That is what sets America apart. That is what has made the American dream a reality. We dream big and we believe in our dreams. Then, we achieve them.
We need to move beyond our past to live in the future.
But I’m telling you the tide is gonna turn,
“When you look into my eyes
Home. Safety, love, comfort, celebration, the gathering place for family, a haven from the troubles of the world, the welcoming beacon to the wandering soul.
and now, a house in a historic little town on the Albemarle Sound where they come with our grandchildren to visit with us and our dog. Some will always hold a place in my heart, some have just been a roof over our heads.
But leaving was also freedom! No longer the monkey in the middle of my parents’ fights, trying to make my mother laugh and calm her resentment, no intervening with my father so he would belittle me instead of her.
My true home was the love I had for Doug and the family that grew from that love.
But when we do move to Raleigh, just like my move to Buffalo for college, this move will be a life changing one. It will be adventures into new opportunities, an exploration of where God is calling us next.