Peas

 

Sow your peas by Valentine’s Day,  they say in the NW.

AKCC NW (Ass-Kicking Calico Northwest) and I are eating a late lunch of grass-fed ribeye, peas and rice. I worked a birthday party of Californians and their children this morning, where I remembered that toddlers are very messy, but still made progress on my first book on the Benedictine reading list, Radical Hospitality. It was helpful, as I did not want to see kiddos at 9 am on a dateless V Day, but I tried to be radically hospitable.

Next, I searched the village of Eastound relentlessly and finally found pea seeds. (Everyone here mail orders via Amazon, because everyone is from California, Portland, and Seattle, so I can’t find seeds on hippie island). (And yes, I just linked to Amazon because I am contradictory.)

After that, I gathered clam shells and rope I found on the beach to make a door knocker and scare off the riff raft, the scalawags (my version of island voodoo).

That followed with a wonderful, healing, planting session of sugar snap pea seeds with AKCC NW, and mounting my bird feeder. She ate grass and I enjoyed the aroma of the dirt. Kind regards and thanks to AKCC NE and her humble servant for the rad trowel.

After this, AKCC NW says I have to do laundry.

I leave this quote with you, from The Benedictine book, Radical Hospitality:

“American spirituality is basically consumer spirituality. God is a product with incredible benefits. God helps us live well, live healthfully, be prosperous and emotionally strong. God is like a great motivational speaker or talk show host who offers a banquet of options for successful spirituality. You look over the banquet table and select what appeals to you.

We are caught up in what is probably the most immature attempt at spirituality humanity has ever seen. It is tragically and poignantly adolescent, with the deep emotion and angst that goes with adolescence. It is a spirituality that seeks improvement for life – a better me, a better relationship – but it does not seek God and it does not move us toward others. It just keeps us running on the treadmill of our little egocentric worlds.

We are accustomed to easy answers. Hospitality is not an easy answer. It requires that we take a chance and we change. It requires us to grow. The moment we engage with another person everything gets messy. Our time becomes not quite our own; we can count on others interrupting us. We become subject to a whole hoard of emotional dangers.

Because hospitality always involves giving something of ourselves to others, it is a spiritual practice. Spirituality is about relationship.”