Category: Uncategorized

“He Shines for Us”

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Youtube video: http://youtu.be/ZLhBZ2ONxpE

“He shines for us”

in memory of David R. Davidson

The curtain fell and lights went low

While ladies clapped, the men stood slow

The room would empty, they’d scatter,

to and fro

To start to leave, let the music go

They walked outside and felt a breeze

“It’s not yet over” shuttered in the trees

They felt a warmth in the sound of those

guarantees

That told them “no” because he would not go

Sometimes you feel inside your chest

You know he left but he’s not quite gone yet

Not for now

Or for then

Or for any day soon

For me and for you as we look to the moon

There he is and will be if we ever can’t see

He shines for us

He shines for us

The seasons changed and as the leaves fell

Soon it was Christmas, ringing of bells

Our hearts felt lonely without him

though all was well

Because the music showed he would not let go

People moved on and clocks kept their time

It wasn’t the same but soon we would find

He’d whisper softly, just listen, he’d speak

His mind

There’s no need for us to let him go

Sometimes you feel inside your chest

You know he left but he’s not quite gone yet

Not for now

Or for then

Or for any day soon

For me and for you as we look to the moon

There he is and will be if we ever can’t see

He shines for us

He shines for us

Words under copyright protection: Laura Anne Ayres, 2013

Music under copyright protection: Jackson Henry, 2014

Apples and faith

Posted on by lauraanneayres

How very Swiss the sermon was on Christmas eve/day. “Brothers and sisters in Christ, faith is like an apple.”

Father Luzzatto’s sermon was powerful, as is usually the case when someone stands at the pulpit at Franziskanerkirche. Apples and candles adorned our Christmas trees in my loving, liberal, Luzern church.

Ah, the apple. We love our apples here: raw, cinnamon-dusted, on a train, in a car, while walking. We love apples. There are well over 7,000 varieties of apples. Some are sweet and others are almost sour.  Certain “perfect” apples appear absolutely blemish-less, whilst others are picked from a tree and might have not only bruises, but possibly a plump worm hiding within. Apples used to be a sign of wealth. Countries have their own national favorites. It’s easily one of the top 3 most consumed fruits. Even Switzerland’s hero Wilhelm Tell was linked with the apple, which demonstrated his bravery, accuracy, and resilience under pressure (three rather important universal strengths).

But, the apple’s also an apt metaphor for faith.

There’s a small layer of a “shell” protecting it as it grows, matures, and thrives. Once past the fragile, but firm, exterior, one reaches the sought-after flesh. Interestingly enough, the true legacy each apple holds is far from that which is immediately seen or tasted. Buried underneath the peel, past the yummy inside, there it is: the core. We say, “das Kernhaus eines Apfels” in German. The core of each apple has the potential to bring literal life.

Even the proportions are similar. The outer layer is thin, but sturdy. The inner flesh definitely contains the majority of what makes an apple have its well-known taste. The core is similar to the outer layer because it is limited in size (and circumference, by nature).

There we have our proportions (those of us who are faith seekers). Our “faith” or outer armor is not so thick, but it is substantial. The inner stuff makes us who we are. The core (a purity of heart I believe we are all born with) is small, but drives everything from birth to death and then the next step…if it is protected.

Today I did a bit of research. There is a group in Asia trying to create an apple without a peel. Why? Because people don’t like the taste of the peel. “It’s bitter,” they say, “I just want the inside part.” There are hundreds of products created to help us get rid of our apple peel, including one of my favorite products, which is apple juice. We wish it was easier to get directly to and enjoy the delicious flavors of the apple. Who cares about that pesky peel layer, I want the good stuff!

Hell, we all do.

News Flash: the good stuff isn’t in the flesh – it’s in the peel. In particular, that area just between the peel and the flesh. You get a healthy dose of potassium, Vitamins A, C, & K, fiber, not to mention possible cancer-fighting elements and antioxidants. Eat only the flesh? You don’t.

It’s trendy now to eliminate that “armor.” But, when we eliminate the armor of “faith,” we lose a lot.  Not everything, we still get a delicious, wonderful, beautiful apple. But, picture an apple without a peel. How that would really be? It would be exposed to every storm, susceptible to every pest. The peel, the armor – they protect the flesh. Both the outer layer and the inner layer do something extremely important. They both protect the core. The inner layer cannot do it alone, that’s why the outer layer is crucial. Get it?

I struggle to imagine myself with the armor that has protected me. The armor I choose willingly and happily to wear fully aware of what makes it my faith and my armor. No one told me, “put this on just because.” No. I made the decision. Certainly, it would have been a lovely life without some of the doubts and anger that come with wearing the “armor.” The many times I felt my strong faith did not protect me or the ones I loved…or even the ones I saw who needed protection.

The church services on Christmas eve and day ended with everyone taking home an apple for him or herself. I am still thinking about this comparison and loving it more and more. Before we left, Father Luzzatto joked about our favorite apple.

Mine is definitely the Pink Lady apple. I loved them when I lived in Manhattan (my grocer carried them). They are a bit tart, but mainly sweet. The peel is tough, rugged.

Apples and faith. Such a beautiful pairing.

Amen.

.Apples and ChristmasApple and Advent candles

 

Fear and Yogeet’s opinion on it

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Since Monday around 10:30AM, I have been riddled with fear. Something bad happened to me on Monday morning and fear took over. Those of you who’ve seen me since then (minus Liv, who saw me ugly cry after it happened) will be surprised it’s so bad. I’ve been my “normal” smiling, perky self.

Today, my schedule cleared up and I knew it. I must get to Yogeet (referred to as my “Indian healer” on this blog and my FB page). But there was serious fear because of what happened Monday. I won’t say how, but I got to Yogeet this morning.

What I happened at Yogeet’s changed me forever. There will be upcoming days and nights when I feel anxiety, but I do not think I will feel fear again.

After about an hour, I told Yogeet a Jewish story I’d heard about Death. A man lives in a village and hears Death is coming. He’s scared, so he leaves his home and goes to another village to avoid Death. He gets to the new place, there’s a knock on the door, and it’s Death. “Wasn’t looking for the place, I was looking for the person. It’s your turn, buddy.”

Yogeet listened. Then, he said, “I have a similar story.”

Shiva is a popular god in Hinduism. He is usually adorned with serpents and wears nothing except a cloth of tiger fur covering his “his”dom. The rather disturbing planet of justice, Saturn, was apparently headed for Shiva one day. Most people are afraid of Saturn’s justice and so was Shiva. In fact, Shiva was scared shiv-less, so he decided to go into the river. He created a shield for himself and stayed in the river for 7 ½ years, to avoid being touched by Saturn’s version of justice. After 7 ½ years, Shiva emerges from the river and confronts Saturn. “I did it. You didn’t get me.” Saturn’s response, “You kept yourself from your home, your life, and your entire world based on your fear of justice. Who won? Me or You?”

Okay, I’m paraphrasing Yogeet’s words (which I also might have baffled) and I am certainly far from the “proper” telling of this. I don’t think they refer to Shiva’s “his”dom, for example.

But this story changed me. It is one thing to feel anxious and nervous. It is another thing entirely to be so afraid that you live a life dominated by your fear of anyone, anything, or any possibility.

That is not a life.

I will try to write more about this later because I truly was changed today. But, what I can say is that I am on the train headed HOME. To my home. And on Sunday, my knees will bend and I will pray my weekly prayer AT MY CHURCH. My church. As I do every Sunday, I will repeat the same prayer, “Thank you for giving me strong legs, a strong spirit, and a strong heart.”

Settling – it’s what’s for dinner

Posted on by lauraanneayres

There was this day late in August of 2013.

I was 12 hours out of the hospital with a serious back and neck injury. I had an important appointment with the 80th lawyer. (Who probably asked to see me because she needed extra spending money. For sure, it wasn’t because she had anything concrete to offer in the way of pertinent legal advice.) And, the man I loved made a big offer (PETAL 1):

“I’m going to pick you up and take you to the appointment.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Twenty minutes after I needed to be picked up (a brace around my back and a medicinal brace around my neck), I heard the sound of a Vespa (PETAL 2). I remember thinking, “no way” and reality bitch-slapping me, “yes, way” when a little blue speed demon came around the corner.

Twenty minutes after having a helmet shoved on my head to “protect me” (PETAL 3), I was sitting in the lawyer’s office talking about her brilliant ideas – I either betray the man I love or publicly humiliate myself (PETAL 4). I knew I would chose the later, but…really? I think I popped a pain pill.

Forty-five minutes after that disaster, I was crying too hard to have the man I loved see me. His SMSs “I need to get to my meeting, are you done yet?” etc. went unanswered until I got myself under control. Bearing in mind: 12 hours out of the hospital, intense physical pain, exhausted, etc.

There was no helpful suggestion from the lawyer. No help from the man I loved. No help from God. No one heard me. I walked out of the door, having sent an SMS “I’m ready now” and saw something on the building in front of me:

  Post Tenebras, Lux.

But, there was no light after that darkness. That darkness was followed by more darkness.

I think it goes to a simple point and that’s in this poem I’m attaching below called “Just a Petal.” We are born with this tiny seed. It’s given to us by “whatever” made us. It’s the pure version of us, you know? The one that doesn’t know how to spell, smell, or identify what a “gun” is.

We forget about this. Time goes on and we pile a lot of stuff on that core (it’s “Kern” in German) part of us.

I think it’s important NOT to forget and I think it’s important to place a finger on that “Kern” and identify it. Remember who you are.

Otherwise, riding a Vespa with a back & neck injury or paying 500CHF to be told nothing by a person who doesn’t care about your future might seem “good enough.” When, those things are actually…just petals.

Just a Petal

Once upon a time feels a long way away.

Did it happen for real, did I actually say?

“Granddaddy, I dream of a day when I’ll settle

for a man carrying, not a rose, just a petal.

 He’ll be ‘not that bad,’ he might ‘like’ me a lot

The petal’s not much, but it’s all that he’s got.

He doesn’t hit me or cheat, not so much anyway.”

Once upon a time? Feels a long way away.

“No,” Granddaddy’d scold, “it’s not right what you say.

There’s much more you deserve, settling’s not the way.

Just hear it from my side, and see what I see.

‘Cause here’s what I see, what your future should be.

 For you, I dream of a man who will be a real man.

Needn’t head for the hills, running fast as he can

if trouble draws near, hanging above like a cloud.

By your side, he will be, and he’ll always be proud-

 he is yours, you are his, there is no end in sight.

There’s someone to hold, if you’re scared late at night.

My dream is better than yours is, I see it so clear.

Where did your dreams all go wrong? How’d you find yourself here?”

True, when did I start to settle…for only a petal?

Who says the minimum’s okay? Fidelity gets a medal?

We might see each other if he manages ‘some time?’

Do I feel butterflies, as I hover over my bottom line?

 Is this my Prince Charming? Someone moving like a fish

quickly in and out of my life, no intention to commit?

“I don’t remember what it feels like,” I say, though he knows,

“to be special enough to deserve the whole rose.”

 “Go back to your dreams, Granddotta – Remember who you are.

You deserve more than a petal –You’re your Granddaddy’s star.”

Laura Anne Ayres, 2014

Obama pulls immigration “Out of the Shadows”

Posted on by lauraanneayres

It is 2:17 in the morning on November 21st and the words are spinning.

“These people did not come here in search of a free ride. They came to contribute to America’s success.”

He is right.

Obama said it, they fight “anxiety” “fear” “heartbreak” – to stay in the United States. They live day-to-day actually hoping to remain unseen – to stay in the United States.

So, their desire to be amongst us is so deeply a part of who “these people are” that they will fight daily anxiety, fear, heartbreak, desperation, separation from loved ones and a myriad of other struggles with one goal in mind – to stay in the United States?

I’m sorry, doesn’t that sound like the fierce patriotism that “we” want?

Obama said, “Their hopes, dreams, and patriotism are just like ours.” I think some of these men, women, and children treasure their unseen patriotism more than most, don’t you think?

“I want to pay taxes to support this great country, but I cannot.” Isn’t this the kind of patriot we want?

Now, imagine being a decent, hard-working person (most of the undocumented people in the United States would fit under this umbrella, by the way) and living a life in the shadows where your daily goal is to remain unseen. It’s not ideal for many reasons, but the worst reason is: bad things can happen to a person that is unseen, as President Obama eluded to. When we do not “see” them, we do not know what exactly is happening to them (or their children). This is when serious injustice and inhumane treatment can happen to a person. On our watch.

I think President Obama said “it goes against our character to deport people like this.” What a bold statement and what truth lies within those words.

I’m proud of President Obama and the men and women who helped him announce this plan.

I’m proud to know there is a plan, at long last, that will help “these people.”

I pray the men and women who are charged with fulfilling these promises will be kind in their approach and void of malice, racism, or hatred.

I thank God for all the men, women, and children who were “seen” for the first time tonight.

 

 

 

 

Allerheiligen & Allerseelen – All Saints and All Souls day

Posted on by lauraanneayres

“In honor of the saints – known and unknown.”

Rarely does a person reach his or her 21st birthday without experiencing the death of a (be)loved one. So, we all have common ground there.

How we express our loss is such a private choice. It seems to me, having seen people that did not express their loss and watching that downward spiral, the only important part of “how” is “that we do it.”

There are many solutions in the diverse forms: memorial service, Requiem, Shiva, Día de los Muertos, Janazah prayer, mourning flags, black clothing, white clothing, covered mirrors. Buddhists believe both how deeply and how long we mourn can be based on the “tie with the person.” I love that.

There is a difference between the sister holidays of All Saints and All Souls day. Traditionally, All Saints day was meant to honor those who died and were assured of eternal salvation. All Souls day was meant to honor those who were unbaptized and thus…well…destination unknown. This is the 2-part version of what some celebrate as a 3-day observance called “All Hallowtide.”

Being the devout Catholic I am, I can say clearly: I don’t like it. It’s a very man-made distinction and I don’t like those. I prefer to view things the way I’d hope our ever-loving God would. Do I imagine God making such a distinction?

No.

Allerheiligen is a big deal in Switzerland. Truly. The cemeteries and church are packed. The heads are not all grey, white, bald, or salt/pepper – there are younger people in both spaces. The presence of all ages reinforces what we’ve all learned consciously or subconsciously by age 21…

this life is temporary

 One way I’ve learned to express loss is beautiful. My church in Luzern makes Easter candles. Somewhere along the line, someone told me he burned his Easter candle the week before Allerheiligen and put it on the grave of his mother (it wasn’t L).Easter Candle on Allerheiligen

(This is what I do every year. It is how I have chosen to express loss.)

Candles cover the graves on Allerheiligen. As the sun begins to set, the people put candles on the graves of people they love and remember. I, too, have been honored to decorate the grave of a beloved member of my extended Luzern family (http://wp.me/p2dSt7-hA). I am at her grave often and I notice other people in mourning. I’ve noticed this expression of loss comes without as many tears being dropped on the graves we keep in memorium. Allerheiligen comes without quite as much pain.

It doesn’t always have to be painful, does it? Remember our loved ones can serve to renew the bond we had with them, instead of tearing open healed wounds.

Next year, on the 1st of November, remember your loved ones. If you are not near them, find a simple tree, light a few candles, say prayers/sing a song/read a poem. That’s what All Saints and All Souls day really mean.

We did not forget you, we remember your time here among us, and we honor you.

All Saints day

The Top 1% doesn’t interest me…not their money, anyway

Posted on by lauraanneayres

“Where are the donation envelopes?”

“We don’t have any.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Unfortunately no.”

“Where are people supposed to donate their money?”

“Bank transfer.”

Fundraising for non-profits – I am passionate about it. I have been doing it for a long time.

I’m a well-oiled fundraising/branding machine and I’m good at it. I go into a situation and immediately assess a few things.

First, I identify the problem areas. Usually, the image needs tweaking and the mission for the campaign needs to be clearer/updated/pertinent to more people than the smaller, inner circle. (And a huge “problem area” for raising money is usually the people that are in positions of power within the organization. They are the worst fundraisers because the reason funds need to be raised usually keeps these fine ladies and gents awake at night. They have been crunching numbers, begging, pleading for so long, they are death gripping the steering wheel…and it’s hard to get them to let go. Hard, but necessary.)

Second, I look at the organization’s strengths and weaknesses. I am ready to tell anyone who will listen the strengths and I am creative about what they are. I am also ready to defend the weaknesses with as much Texas charm as I can put on. (Always a challenge these days when the organization has a religious affiliation and what a horrible commentary that is on our society. Horrible these faith workers have to stop their good deeds to raise money and horrible we are embarrassed to claim “Jewish” or “Christian” or “Muslim” ties. Great thing about me, I’m a religious pluralist. I don’t have an issue with a person’s faith. I got a Jewish guy to donate 250K to a church in NYC. True story.)

Step five or six is my favorite. That’s when I have a peek at the existing donor base. It’s usually full of devoted people that have been approached for money every time there’s a crisis. Once I start working, I immediately call these people, thank them, and let them know we’re not interested in them…just their contacts. (True story, again.)

Then, I get to work. I don’t ask a lot of questions, I don’t need a ton of help (just a good, tight team), and I don’t need to be paid for it.

When I leave a project, the goal has always been met (or exceeded). Here’s what I mean by “goal.”

I don’t aim for big money donors. Naturally, I want to (and do) get the money needed. However, with my strategy, I get both the money I need and something far better than that…I get loyalty.

I will have a street fair, a book drive, a 2nd-hand shoe bazaar, a FB fan page, a Twitter hashtag, I don’t care…I don’t want the 1% of givers. I want the other 99%. I don’t want a lot of their money, just a little.

It’s their loyalty I want. I want them to get so passionate about the project, they cannot help but, as Bubs would say, “get involved.” I want the leaders of the organization NOT to have to repeat the fundraising in 10 years because only 8 people donated 8 million. I want a database. When a catastrophe hits, there are 8 MILLION PEOPLE READY TO GIVE. See how it goes? (Okay, 8 million is a lot, but it was a great image, right?)

I cannot imagine anything worse than hearing, “We are targeting a few key donors” when a fundraising project has started. Well, worse than that is probably, “We’re keeping the project hush-hush for a few months.” No, worse than both, “We don’t need your help.” That is something I would never say to a volunteer offering his or her time/talents or a person with only 5 cents to give.

Never.

Things need to change in fundraising. Obama’s campaign taught me that my gut instinct was right. It’s about the kid that gives 2CHF or $1.50 from his piggy bank. He’s gonna grow up and love the Hospice or CBSM or Genesis or St. John’s and and and. I need that kid.

And when that kid introduces me to his multi-billionaire granddad, I’ll smile and tell him, “Give us what you can, but just get involved, okay?”

He’ll give money, too. Know why? Because they both believe me. It’s easy to convince people when you’re authentic and honest…and real.

Why I am in love with SBB, CFF, and FFS (which does not stand for “for f***’s sake”)

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Literally, the only relationship I have had for the past few years that never disappoints me is my relationship with the public transportation system in Switzerland.

Not kidding. It is a love affair. I am truly in love and it will never go away. Okay, maybe we will fight? I hope not. If we fought and I won, I would like to have the tilting train removed from my trips to the Romandie. If we fought and I lost, I would  agree to sit in the kids’ wagon for a month and babysit.

Here’s are 3 things I noticed on Sunday.

The train station in Zurich is AMAZING. They renovated it. Same in Geneva. This is only a good thing. It brings more businesses into the train station, which gives the majority of shop owners a break on Sundays (train stations are open, but 99.999999% of stores are not). It makes the train stations a place of commerce, instead of a place to (sorry) take a potty break. Sometimes on the ground (I’m looking at you, Grand Central Station where I saw a man go number 2!!).

Luzern recently redirected traffic leading into its train station. One lane is reserved for buses, taxis, etc. That is making major traffic for the cars in other lane. Hey, guess what? Don’t take your car. Take the bus or, gasp, WALK. Luzern, win-win from y’all! And, they’re renovating their train station, too. Amazing.

The last thing is crucial. The people employed by SBB (for the most part and I mean EVERYONE I’ve encountered and I take/arrange public transportation more than most) speak multiple languages, attempt to be friendly, and willingly engage in conversation with customers. There is a premium on customer service with SBB/CFF/FFS and the regional service providers.  That’s not so common these days. Non-natives like me appreciate knowing more about the best route from Bubikon to Wankdorf (not joking). It’s nice to chat about this with Beat, who comes from Riffelberg, speaks about 20 languages, and can tell me everything about the route, including how many dairy cows I will see. Bravo employees of the public transportation system in Switzerland. Seriously.

Look, I am someone without tons of money. I still invest in my yearly SBB pass (called a “GA” say it outloud and laugh, please. It’s a general pass for all the trains, trams, buses, ships, donkeys, elephants, etc. http://www.sbb.ch/en/travelcards-and-tickets/railpasses/ga.html). Why? Because They make my life infinitely easier and more pleasant. Traveling by train, even in the Kinderwagon, is civilized (for God’s sake, you can drink! ON THE TRAIN!), easy, dependable, and keeps another car off the road.

I’m in love. It’s funny because my “first train” ride in Zurich was my move. The train came from Munich. It was a horrible storm (this is not a joke) and the train hit a fallen tree, derailed, and we had to walk to the nearest bus, in the rain. The journey usually takes about 3 hours, I think. It took me 10 hours to get to Zurich.

But, it was a DB. Not SBB. 😉

I love you, SBB. I just wish I could tweet my love. Fix your Tweeter feed!!

(PS- Can you please talk to ZVV and have them make my train orange again? It goes better with my book. Thanks.)

Little ditty about Guy and Diane

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Disconnect from family is a theme in my book and it’s an ongoing theme in real life for a lot of expats.

Emily Bower in the book might not be real, but her name is. Both of my grandmothers are combined to make “Em.” She’s Emily Mildred and combines the strength of two amazing families: the Bowers and the Royals. Fiercely loyal and dedicated to family, these two large families were extremely strong influences on me as a child.

When I received an email that said, “We are beginning a 17 day tour of Alpine countries starting in Zurich. We leave here on Sunday, the 21st, and arrive in Zurich at 8:05 on Monday morning on United. From there we will take the train to Lucerne.  We will go there to meet our tour on the 23rd.” I responded, “Is there a possibility to see y’all?”

And see them, I did. Guy and Diane, two of my favorite cousins.

Diane has always been cuddly with me. Big hugs, big smiles, she and Kacky (her sister) are like twins to me in many ways. I love Diane a lot and she knows it. This blog post is about Guy, her husband and a Bower because he has no choice.

I needed a dad yesterday. I needed a dad last week. I needed a dad for the past 5 years. Someone to talk to, to cry to, to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be okay. Someone to read my book (which is a big part of my life, literally and figuratively) and remember it. Someone to tell me that I am something special. Dads are good at that stuff and I don’t think “kids” ever stop needing some of that from time to time.

Guy’s a tough guy. As I kid, I stood in awe. This was a man whose entire life was dedicated to the United States Air Force. He didn’t go into an office, an operating room, or a store to work like other dads. Guy served our country and, even as a little kid, I “got it” that it was a big deal. When he said something to me, I listened with big ears and eyes. When I saw him yesterday, I said, “Someday, I’ll be able to tell you I am not in school, totally independent, have it together…” and he cut me off.

“Hey, I read your book.”

Come on. Guy? Guy read my book? I didn’t say what I was thinking which was “Why?”

He really read it, too. He remembered a lot of things!

Guy didn’t joke with me about anything yesterday. In fact, he was really paternal and loving in a way that helped heal something for me. I will never be able to repay his kindness to me. “That’s what family does” is probably what he would say. I promise my heart will always have a special corner for him because of yesterday and he was just thinking, “Here I go to Luzern.” Typical of his lifelong desire to be of service to others.

The strongest compliment I can give to any dad is to tell him, “You remind me of Granddaddy” or “You remind me of Pop.” My grandfathers were 100% dedicated to their families and felt that was an honor. I think they were truly amazing fathers, both of them.

Guy, you were a lot like our beautiful Granddaddy yesterday. Less belly to hug, but so Granddaddy-esque. I will never forget it and thank you more than I can say.