Hahamongna Watershed Park

Deists, among whom counted Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, believed that God revealed Himself through nature. I believe this is true. In nature, our bodies quiet, our minds still, and if we wait and are patient, we can sometimes feel ourselves part of something bigger and more lasting than ourselves. In dark and difficult times, it is hopeful.

The Pasadena City Council votes Monday, July 12, whether to turn a last remaining bit of accessible wilderness -- Hahamongna Watershed Park -- into a soccer field. Soccer is big in this town, and there are not enough fields to play it. I know parents who have to choose between letting their ten year olds be on a soccer team that has to practice at nine o'clock at night or not play at all, this in a time when Americans are at risk for both obesity and not getting enough sleep. Which of these bad alternatives would you choose for your child?

Go! Build a soccer field. But don't built it in this fragile ecosystem that is home to coyotes, bobcats, frogs, ducks, swallows, snakes and other wildlife. Don't build it in this cathedral that provides a needed respite to urban and suburban sprawl. We are a species that needs to feel the earth, touch long grasses, and hear the wind feel its way through canopies of trees. That's just who we are. Through nature, we know the divine. So...let us know.

This post is part of Hahamongha blogger's day. Read more about this issue by visiting the participating bloggers:

Altadena Above It All http://www.altadenaaboveitall.com/

Altadena Hiker http://altadenahiker.blogspot.com
A Thinking Stomach http://athinkingstomach.blogspot.com
East of Allen http://eastofallen.blogspot.com
LA Creek Freak http://lacreekfreak.wordpress.com
Mendolonium http://www.mendolo.com
Mister Earl's Musings http://misterearlmusing.blogspot.com
My Life With Tommy http://www.mylifewithtommy.com
Pasadena Adjacent http://pasadenaadjacent.com
Pasadena Daily Photo http://pasadenadailyphoto.blogspot.com
Pasadena Latina http://pasadenalatina.blogspot.com
SaveHahamongna.org http://savehahamongna.org
Selvage http://www.lindadove.blogspot.com
The Sky Is Big In Pasadena http://theskyisbig.blogspot.com
Webster's Fine Stationers Web Log http:/www.webstersfs.blogspot.com
West Coast Grrlie Blather http://grrl.wordpress.com

Goddess of the Week: Nike

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Stacey needs an Energizer Bunny goddess. Of course, there's Shakti. She'll definitely give you energy, especially when illness or physical laments are conspiring against you, but if your lack of energy is more a case of misplaced mojo or general malaise, you need Nike, the Greek goddess of strength, speed and victory.

You might remember that the Titans were the Greek gods 1.0. Their leader, Kronos, kept eating his children so they wouldn't usurp him, in the way children do. Eventually, however, Kronos threw them all up and, annoyed that they'd be stuck in Krono's digestive track, they fought against him and his generation. It was very Summer of Love, very don't trust anyone over thirty, very be sure to wear some laurel in your hair. Except, of course, instead of a summer it was the dawn of time and instead of love there was blood-thirsty killing and fighting between the old gods and the new gods.

Chief among the new gods was Zeus, and when he rallied the young gods to throw the old gods out, the first goddess to jump to his aid was Nike. When the Titans set the monster Typhon loose on Mount Olympus, all the gods but Zeus and Nike just totally fled because they were so scared.

Besides her really cool wings, Nike had these awesome pom pons, and she waved them in the air and yelled, "We love Zeus. Oh, yes we do. We love Zeus. Hey, how 'bout you?" But the other gods were too scared to even answer back, so she tried, "Z-E-U-S! Around him we coalesce! Go Zeus! Go Zeus! He's your best friend! He's your best friend!"

Zeus was so fired up that he totally trounced Typhon and then all the other young gods came back and they were all, "Yeah, we totally knew you'd win, dude. We just wanted to show the Titans that you could do it yourself."

Well, those other gods may have been cowardish louts, but Nike was not. Nike shows that to find your mojo and your energy you sometimes need a cheerleader. You need someone to remind you how fabulous you are. You need someone to light the fire within you so that you can burn like the bright star that you are even when everyone around you is hiding in the dark. You need Nike. She often looks like a really good girl friend. Or your dog.

Channel this goddess when you need someone to wake you up to your inner potential and energy. Say: "Nike! Nike! She's a goddess! See her flying in her bodice! Go Nike! Go Nike! She's your best friend! She's your best friend."

Need a goddess: Post a comment saying what you need and I'll find you what you need.

Goddesses Interrupted

No goddess this week. Why? Because I have been at Surf Camp with the Girl Scouts. Some of you may ask: "How was Surf Camp."

Well, friends, three words: Tater Tot Casserole.

Like me, you may remember the day when Tater Tots were the "it" food. You may remember going to your friend's house and being served Tater Tots, and you may remember thinking: "Tater Tots! This kid is sooooo lucky."

If you have such memories, you would probably like Tater Tot Casserole, which is sort of like Shepherd's Pie, but with Tater Tots on top and also, for some reason, rice. If, however, you were born circa 1997, you may not see Tater Tots in such a soft golden light. You might not see Tater Tots in any light at all. You may really hate Tater Tots, and the thought of them topping a casserole -- which you also may hate -- may fill you with horror and revulsion, and, most importantly, you may feel it very important to share this horror and revulsion with your Girl Scout Leaders. You may feel compelled to do that, again and again again.

Like Tater Tots, you may also harbor soft golden fantasies about camping on a tent on the beach. You may think to yourself, "Ah, to be lulled to sleep by the melodic sound of waves. What joy!" True enough, being lulled asleep by the melodic sound of waves has its appeal, but less appealing is the fact that the beach is full of sand, and sand is like like your child's junk. It strives to spread its reach as far as possible, including into your tent, your pillow, your toothpaste.

This might be bearable if, at the end of the day, you could sit down and watch the sunset with a glass of wine. Alas, the Girl Scouts are very strict about this, there is no fricking wine. Ever. There is only whine, and there's lots of that.

You may say to yourself: "Why? Why condemn yourself to such a fate?"

Are you kidding me? My girls surfed for the first time in their lives, and I was there.

Goddess of the Week: Panacea et al

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Ann needs a goddess of good health, but it when it comes to health I think you really want to stack the deck, in which case, the more goddesses the better. I've got a bevy of goddesses for you, Ann. In fact, I've got five sisters who will totally have you covered.

The sisters are the daughters of Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine -- and they may just be what America needs to solve all its health care conflicts.

There's preventive measures goddess, Hygieia, who is all about washing hands. There's big phrama goddess, Panacea, the goddess of cures. Then you have your big gun illnesses goddesses, Iaso, goddess of recuperation and Aceso, goddess of recovery. These are the ones you want in your corner when Paxil and antibacterial lotion let you down. Last of all, you have Aglaea, goddess of natural beauty, who takes care of all your elective plastic surgery needs.

In a traditional medical setting, seeing these ladies -- literal goddesses in their fields -- would cost you thousands and thousands of dollars, and you'd never even get your parking validated. But with the new goddess system, all you need to do is drop a drachma at the temple and maybe sacrifice a goat every once in a while and you'll have all you need to live a healthy, vigorous life.

Don't believe me? Just ask the people of ancient Athens. They'll tell you that it took only three years for the goddesses to wipe out the terrible plague of 430-427 BC. I know people who've had to wait that long to see the dermatologist! Plus they didn't have to use one of the pesky blood pressure cups that always make me so nervous just thinking about them that my blood pressure shoots through the roof. In fact, even writing that made a little dizzy so I think I better stop now.

Channel these goddesses: in times of swine flu, bird flu, moose flu, and other assorted aches and pains. It's better than leeches.

Need a goddess: I got goddesses! Post a comment and I'll find what you need.

Goddess of the Week: Amaterasu

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I hope no one minds, but I'm going to break the queue and bring Rois right up to the top of the line. She needs Amaterasu, the Japanese sun goddess, because the rain in Oregon is wrecking havoc on their homestead. (Really, it's a homestead. Check it out.)

Clearly, Amaterasu's annoying brother Susano-Wo has been messing with the folks in Oregon. Talk about your sibling rivalry. He's been trying to prove he's more powerful than Amaterasu since the beginning of time.

Once, he made a bet with Amaterasu that he could produce more male gods than she could. So Amaterasu took her brother's sword, chewed it up, spit out the pieces and --wham -- out came these three goddesses. Then it was Susano-Wo's turn. He took these really cool fertility beads that Amaterasu tied up her hair with and smashed them with his teeth producing five itty bitty male gods.

"Ha! I win! I win. I am so totally awesome and you are so totally lame," he said.

"Dude," said Amaterasu. "You only won because you used MY beads. MY beads won, which means I am the one who won. So there."

Despite the stunning clarity of this logic, Susano-Wo was not convinced. He kept going on about how he won and then he got all crazy and flooded the irrigation ditches and the rice fields and -- just to be mean -- he skinned a pony and threw it into the sacred weaving hall. Well, you can imagine. It landed on one of Amaterasu's handmaidens, who totally freaked her out and died. Amaterasu was so stressed she went and hid in a cave, which wasn't so good for the peoples. That meant there was nothing to stop Susano-Wo, so it rained and rained, and all was dark, and all the evil gods came out and created chaos. It was worse than the pony.

Finally, the goddess Ame-No-Uzume danced this crazy dance that was so wild that all the other gods and goddesses started laughing, which lured Amaterasu out of her cave and made everything right. The rained stopped, the sun came out and Susano-Wo went to Oregon to see what he could do there.

So here's what you've got to do, Rois, you've got to find a way to make Amaterasu laugh. In the immortal words of Princess Leia, "It's your only hope." You can do it. I have total faith in you.

Channel this goddess: When the rain won't stop, when all is darkness, either literally or metaphorically. When you need to laugh.

Need a goddess: I got goddesses! Post a comment telling me what you need and I'll see what I can do.

Goddess of the Week: Thalia and Melpomene

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Good ol' Cafe Pasadena wonders if there is a goddess of drama. Actually, there are two: Thalia, the Greek muse of comedy and her sister Melpomene, the Greek muse of tragedy. You may know them better as the laughing and weeping masks they are sometimes represented as on old theatres or stage curtains.

I'm sort of cheating here because I know this is not the kind of drama Cafe Pasadena has in mind. Cafe Pasadena is talking about life drama, about the times when everything is a crisis and everyone around you -- including yourself -- is channeling Bette Davis or Elizabeth Taylor or Charleton Heston or anybody else who knows how to make themselves the center of every production. (I personally excel at this. Check it out.)

But it is real life drama, after all, that inspires art. What? You think some comedian just made up the idea of slipping on a banana peel? You think Shakespeare blindly invented Romeo and Juliet? Duh. Everybody knows it was based on Gwynth Paltrow.

Drama happens. You can sink in it or you can transform it into something cathartic, into something that makes you laugh or that makes you cry. This is why art comes next to air, water, food, shelter and basic security among the necessities of life. Art sustains life. Ancient cave dwellers knew it. They didn't draw those buffaloes because they were bored; they drew them because they had no choice. Just like we have no choice. You may not think you're an artist, but you are. It's in your DNA. Every time you thread a needle, make dessert, plant a garden, put together a scrapbook, or do the hundred other things you do that express who you are you channel a muse. Dare I say it: you step into the shoes of a goddess.

Channel these goddesses: when feeling creative, when you've got the need to burst into song, when you feel like you're living a Lifetime movie. Guess what? You are. You just haven't written it yet.

Need a goddess: I got goddesses and the queue is empty so now is the time to claim one. Post a comment telling me the kind of goddess you'd like to hang around with and I'll see what I can do.

Goddess of the Week: Artemis

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Baffled Human needs a goddess to help find hope and happiness at work.

This was another tough one. The obvious choice would be the Hindu goddess Saraswati, who is your go-to goddess for career success. But success is not the same thing as happiness. There are plenty of successful professionals who are miserable, so I think we need to go another route. I think we need to go with Artemis, the Greek Goddess of the Hunt.

Artemis is the daughter of Zeus, and when she was born she asked her father to grant her fifty hounds, a band of young maidens to do her bidding, and to never to be forced to marry. Granted these things, she spent her days hunting stags and swimming in ponds. It was a great life and she loved her work.

But why did she love her work? Was it because she had a cavalry of secretaries doing all her annoying errands? Was it because she had no man to hold her down? Or was it the fifty dogs? After all, don't dogs make everything better?

The fact is, these things were just manifestations of Artemis's happiness. Artemis was happy because, from the get-go, she was entirely true to herself. She never let anyone else define her. She was the kick-ass girl who liked venison. You had a problem with that, then you stayed out of her forest. She wouldn't change for Zeus. She wouldn't change for that guy who saw her naked so she turned him into a deer and got eaten by his dogs. And she definitely wouldn't change for THE MAN.

So, Baffled Human, don't you dare let THE MAN change you. You go to work. You earn your pay, but be like Artemis. Stay true to your self, and when THE MAN tears you down, just remember that fifty hounds make a lot of shit and even goddesses need to watch their step sometimes. No shame in watching your step. Let THE MAN take your FICA, but don't you ever let him take your humor, your grace, your charm, or your moxie. Wave your hope like a flag. Shine your happy like a shield.

Need a goddess? I got goddesses. Post a comment telling me what you need and I'll see what I can do.

Goddess of the Week: Hecate

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Barb is moving. She needs a goddess who can help her clean house and who can get her on the road. Barb needs Hecate.

Hecate is a funky goddess because no one really knows where she's from. She could be from modern day Turkey. She could be from Thrace. All we know for sure is that she eventually wound up in Greece, she keeps lots of dogs, and she'll meet you at the crossroads. In fact, Greeks used to leave sacrifices for her -- usually meat, for the dogs -- whenever they came to a place where three roads met. So, basically, Hecate served as sort of your ancient day GPS. When you didn't know which way to turn, you gave her a bunch of meat and she pointed you in the right direction. She helped you choose -- and that's why she's the perfect goddess for when you're moving.

Moving means choices. What do you box up? What do you send to the Salvation Army? Where do you go? How do you get there? Where you stay when you've gotten there? So many decisions, so many things to think about and prepare for, but, at a certain point, you've got to make a leap faith. You've got to take Hecate's hand and believe that that paisley jumpsuit is never coming back in fashion and that that new town/job/home is the path to the next stage of your life.

Hecate reminds us that life is about choices. Do the right thing: pack the meat; pack the dogs, and when you get to the crossroads, just keep going. Don't look back.

Channel Hecate: When moving, when tossing your pack-rat tendencies to the wind and throwing things out, or when making particularly difficult decisions.

Need a goddess: I got goddesses! Post a comment telling me what you need or want. I'll see what I can do.

No Joy this time. Just Gratitude

Image by meganpru via Flickr

Well, friends, we were really scrapping the bottom of the barrel, and there was no joy, no joy at all. There were no secret boyfriends to spice up my happy. There were no delicious movies to sweeten my cocktail. There was only the willful determination to smile through the misery train.

We were in the hospital last week. Four days. The teenager was the patient. We were trying to see if she would be a good candidate for brain surgery, and that right there should tell you all you need to know about the state of things here. Alas, she is not a good candidate. So we move on to new meds, other things.

But I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about "keeping calm and carrying on," as the British say. How do you do it? How do you do it when every ounce is joy is sucked right out of you? How do you do it when EEG wires turn your daughter into Medusa so that a screen can show you -- in real time -- the Haitian earthquake that becomes her brain whenever she seizes?

You do two things:

One, you meditate on the fact that this dismal time is temporary. It will pass. It has passed. We are much better now, and the new meds are looking promising, so there you go.

Two, if the circumstances are such that you cannot cultivate your joy, you must look for some other worthy concept to cultivate. For me, it was gratitude. Do you know some people bring their very clean and well-trained dogs to visit hospital patients? Do you know some people bring their guitars? They'll just pop in your room and say, "Do you want a song?" If you say yes, they'll come and sing you a song or two. They don't know you. They just do it to be nice. Then, of course, there are the nurses. It is not hyperbole to call them angels of mercy. You might think it is, but it's not. They are the best people you will find anywhere in the world.

It is a humbling thing to realize that people you've never seen in your life want to help you, not because they pity you, but because they are good people. You should be so lucky to have been touched by the kindness of strangers.

Goddess of the Week: Inana

Image by seriykotik1970 via Flickr

Raving Witch is getting total grief from her ex-boyfriend. The big jerk! She needs a kick-ass goddess that will help her claim her inner She-Ra.

Only one goddess will do when it comes to relationship problems: Inana. Inana was married to Dumuzi, and she was the total jefe Sumerian deity. She was fricking queen of heaven and earth, and everybody knew that she was not somebody to mess with -- everybody, that is, except her sister, Ereshkigal, who was fricking queen of the underworld.

One day, Inana decided she wanted to visit Ereshkigal down in the underworld. So she says to Dumuzi, "What do you think? Should I go? It's so far away, and you have to take, like, five freeways, and it's rush hour 24/7."

Dumuzi's all, "Go. Have fun. Bond. I'll watch everything up here."

So down Inana goes. But not only is traffic a bitch, but once she gets to the gates of hell she has to give up everything just to get through. She has to give up her cool outfit, her jewelry, her magical powers. By the time she gets to Ereshkigal she's butt naked and doesn't even have gas money.

To make things worse, Ereshkigal kills Inana and hangs her from a meat hook. (And you thought you had sister problems.)

Blah, blah, blah, details, details. Inana pulls a few strings and comes back to life, but the underworld is all about accounting and she can't just leave; no debits allowed. She can only go if she agrees to send another soul in her place. "Fine," she says. "I'll send you someone."

But who could she send? I mean it's not so easy to decide. She spends the entire journey worrying about it. Then, when she steps into the light of day, it's even harder because everywhere, everyone is mourning her. People, animals, plants are weeping, moaning, tearing their hair out because they are desolate. DESOLATE! And who is the most desolate? Who is the most heartbroken? Dumuzi, her beloved husband. Right?

WRONG! That doofus Dumuzi was totally living it up! He was sitting on Inana's throne wearing the awesome cool clothes Inana bought him, drinking the wine Inana invented, and totally flirting with those skanky handmaidens that peeled Inana's grapes.

BASTARD.

But at least Inana figured out who should take her place in hell.

Channel Inana: when the men in your life are acting like snakes. Get your Tough Girl on. Don't put up with their bullshit. You are the goddess. You will thrive. They will take five freeways to hell. And they'll figure out how to get there all by themselves. You don't even have to make them a map.

Need a goddess: I got goddesses! Post a comment about what you need. I'll see what I can do.