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Apple Farm Recollections

12/23/2024

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We received this letter and photos from Grace Dow and her son Geoff Bremner. We asked her permission to share her tender writing with you. Grace now lives near Minneapolis, MN. 

To the Apple Farm Community,
You may be surprised to get these pictures and letter. I am leaving this world soon and going over my treasures which I wish to share with you. I am so very happy and enjoying every minute as I near the last few weeks. 

When Helen Luke moved from Los Angeles to retire on a small one cow one horse farm with Jane Bishop and Elsa, they did not expect any more analysands. Helen heard of a dream of mine through my best friend Florence Riley who came to her first. Then Helen invited me to come and I was her second analysand. I can't remember when I started, 1965 or so until 1968. 

Sincerely, Grace Dow
​December 17, 2024
​

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​Left to right in the Farmhouse living room:
 
Nancy Hector Kurilik
Elanor Macomber Raiche
Janet Witt, Elsa Hope
Jane Bishop with the dog.



​

Part of Joan Miller's response to Grace: 
​
Thank you so very much for reaching out to Apple Farm with your keepsakes and your letter. I have heard your name mentioned at various times through the years. I keep in regular contact with Nancy Hector Kurilik who lives now in New Mexico with her sister, Joan Hector... Nancy is the last living person out of the four women founders (as we now call them) of Apple Farm.  

Apple Farm, this one horse, one cow farm (as you said), has lasted over 60 years as a center for persons seeking the renewing power of symbols in their lives. Isn't it amazing! The Farm is now extending its traditions to a new set of folks, many of whom did not know Helen Luke or any of the founders but they are drawn to Apple Farm. You may be interested to know that the two sons of Janet Witt will be moving to the Witt property across the road to participate in the new life of the Farm.

Thank you for keeping these treasures from the early years of the Farm and for believing they might have meaning now. They do. Three of your photos are new to me. I do indeed have interest in the original copies of the papers. I like seeing Helen's handwriting to you.  


Thank you for being a person that mattered to Helen and Jane and others that are part of the founding of Apple Farm and thereby undergird it to this day. I believe that all the hours of inner work, dreamwork and friendship lived here are part of the fabric of what Apple Farm was and is. 

As you live deeply and happily into the last weeks, I send along also a bit of poetry that has been appreciated by so many at Apple Farm through the years.  I suspect you may already know it. You now have a place in the hearts of those of us currently serving Apple Farm.

With deep thanks,
Joan Yoder Miller 
Apple Farm Community
Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

--Rabindranath Tagore
  Blog entry by Pamela Dintaman December 2024
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Apple Farm Christmas Toasts 2024

12/22/2024

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​This year's Christmas gathering is another of life bubbling forth here at the Farm! The first toast at Christmas was always given by Helen Luke, then the evening opened for others to join in giving toasts. Others who took the lead in this tradition after Helen were Jane Bishop, Nancy Hector Kurilik, Don Raiche and Joan Yoder Miller.
 
The opening toast for Christmas 2024 was offered by Joan Yoder Miller.  

Welcome to Apple Farm on this shortest day and longest night of the year. It is Winter Solstice, it is “O Dayspring” in the O Antiphons of Advent and it is Christmas in the Round House.    

For over 60 years, individuals have gathered here because of the story of one luminous night in a stable some 2000 years ago. And while Apple Farm Christmas takes place each year, there has never been a night exactly like this one with exactly these people in the Round House.   

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Helen Luke spoke of the contribution we each must make to any situation in which we find ourselves.

She said no group or gathering would be interesting unless we each brought our own interest to it. We must not simply demand that something (a group, a play, a job,
or even a party) prove itself interesting to us. 

​So, l
et’s raise our glasses to one another here in this moment before this evening unfolds.
 

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​The Farm Christmas card this year has a lovely stained glass image created by Don Troyer. Many of us see an angel in the image. Board member John Stempien suggested the inside of the card might include the words, FEAR NOT. 

​Those words grew on me. Fear is so often paired with
night, with darkness
in which we simply cannot see. 


I remember crying in the night in the non-electric home of my Amish grandparents because there were bears in my room--in the morning light it turned out the bears were actually dark coats hanging on hooks on the wall. How do we stop being afraid? Well, at one level or another, we leave more lights on. 

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The poet Shel Silverstein
​wrote about that fearful dark: 


The baby bat 
Screamed out in fright, 
"Turn on the dark,
 
I'm afraid of the light.”
 
​

I'm Reginald Clark, I'm afraid of the dark 
So I always insist on the light on, 
And my teddy to hug, 
And my blanket to rub, 
and my thumby to suck or to bite on. 
And three bedtime stories, 
Two trips to the toilet, 
Two prayers, and five hugs from my mommy, 
I'm Reginald Clark, I'm afraid of the dark 
So please do not close this book on me.  

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​In seasons when life is hard, when depression looms, when loss is in our face, less daylight makes everything feel harder. And some of us simply need more light than winter brings.  I know this is true. Please do not feel bullied by what I am about to say advocating for the Dark.   
 
But here goes. We are everywhere trained to seek Light. You can’t see in the dark, remember? Yet creation stories and wisdom traditions teach us to seek out the Dark, not simply endure it. When we look into the Christmas story, we see that in the night sky, the shepherds were startled by the angels; that night was needed for the magi to follow the star to the birthplace of the child; that Joseph needed his nighttime dreams for guidance. And then there is the biblical Moses who found God in the thick darkness, and there is the darkness of the womb where each of us were formed.   

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​The darkness has gifts of its own and not only as a poor substitute for light. The mystics and poets give it adjectives:  dazzling darkness, radiant darkness, luminous darkness, inviting darkness. 

In the light there is darkness,  
but don’t take it as darkness; 
 
In the dark there is light, 
 
but don’t see it as light. 
 
Light and dark oppose one another 
 
like the front and back foot in walking. 
 
       --from  The Sandokai,  8
th century Buddhist text 

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​
​I will give you treasures of darkness 

and riches hidden in secret places, 
so that you may know that it is I, Maker of All, 
who calls you by name.        
       
    -- Isaiah 45:3 


To go in the dark with a light is to know the light. 
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight, 
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings, 
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings. 
​   --Wendell Berry 


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The Darkness has a right and a responsibility to exist on its own and not always simply something to get through on the way to Light. I’m sticking up for the Dark on this longest night. And yes. I like to see bits of light in the dark. But not too many. And not too bright. 

To the Dark and to Apple Farm…  


​
​
​
--Joan Yoder Miller, December 21, 2024

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​
​
​Apple Farm Board Chair Kathy Stiffney, toasting the Round House:


To you who has sheltered us these many years.
You are solid, inviting, full of the heart and  mystery of many souls.
We respect you and love you and we want to take care of you.
​As we work to make you perfect, please accept our work as healing care.
We promise to remember what is sacred history. We will work with you.
​We will make you whole. To the place we gather. To our Round House.  

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We are delighted that Pam Bump was present this year. She commented that Helen and Jane and Else would be so happy to see this group gathered! Pam first learned of the Farm from Kay Heustis in 1970 as she returned home from her first year in graduate school at Columbia School of Social Work in New York. "Probably at Kay's request, Helen, Jane and Else invited me to tea at Apple Farm that summer. I was immediately drawn to the spirit of Apple Farm, and the feeling of the numinous present. There was a special kinship with Jane because she had been a teacher in Three Rivers, and I was studying to be a school social worker. In January of 1971 there was a job opening in Three Rivers for a school social worker, and I moved to Three Rivers, and joyfully joined the Apple Farm Community."

Pam wrote after the event: Thank you for your beautiful Solstice Celebration! It was a magical evening! Even walking to the Round House circled in light was luminous. You thought of every detail to make tonight unforgettable! From the exquisitely decorated candle lit tables, to the moving welcome ceremony, toasting each person, to the delicious food and vast array of festive beverages--everything was absolutely wonderful! Thank you for the readings from different traditions, and from "Where the Sidewalk Ends," the selections of poetry at our table, and Lloyd's delightful "Spirits" game! Listening to Carl playing music from The Nutcracker was a joy! Thank you all for nurturing my mind, body and spirit!
--Pam Bump  

  Blog entry by Pamela Dintaman December 2024
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Christmas preparations at Apple Farm

12/22/2024

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Creating and sending the annual Apple Farm Christmas card is a way of staying connected,
particularly with friends at a distance. If you're not receiving the Christmas card and would like to,
​send your postal address to us at [email protected]. 
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​FEAR NOT 
is the message we share this year, in this time
(as always) amidst the
 unknowns
in our lives and in the world. 


When the angel
comes to you, 
cease your chattering, 
surrender your resolve,
and listen for
the mystery. 


                                              --poet Nancy Compton Williams


Photo: my Apple Farm card, with Don Troyer's stained glass, that I received this week in Tucson, ​with the Catalina Mountains in the background. (Pamela Dintaman)

Inspired to share your card from your location?
Send a photo to [email protected].

 Blog entry by Pamela Dintaman December 2024
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Apple Farm Recollections, Rev Greg Little

11/25/2024

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Rev. Greg Little from Ontario Canada reflects…
I first encountered Helen Luke through her writings as did many people. I visited Apple Farm first in the 1980's. I was privileged to meet Helen at that time and cherish the memories I have of that encounter with that very special person. I returned much later in life - older and perhaps a bit wiser in the early 2000's when I was a parish priest and came to Apple Farm for spiritual retreats many times which I found to be most enriching. I was grateful for the sessions I had with Don Raiche as well as the gatherings at the Round House.  
 
I am officially retired from Parish ministry, now an honourary assistant at an Anglican Church in Strathroy Ontario. My traveling is limited these days and I don't travel into the United States any longer and I haven't been able to travel to Apple Farm in recent years. 

Apple Farm note: below are two of Greg's writings where he reflects on Apple Farm experience.
​To see more of his writing, see the church blog:  https://www.anglicanstrathroy.com/pages/blog

Apple Farm Recollection: Time Stands Still

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​written 10+ years ago on the 50th anniversary of Apple Farm, by Rev. Greg Little

My introduction to Apple Farm occurred in the mid-1980’s. I was on what I believe was called an introductory weekend with three other Apple Farm neophytes. There are many things about my time there which are memorable and were pivotal in my life which was on the cusp of middle age at that time. My memories of the people I encountered and particularly Helen Luke are to this day important ones as are the dreams I was given while I was there that time and on subsequent visits. 

Of the many memorable aspects of that time one event stands out. The four of us neophytes were meeting with Helen in the afternoon of the day after our arrival. Just being with her was memorable and I remember her as a presence that far exceeded her physical size. After some time we were given a fifteen minute break. I decided to walk on the grounds and being very conscious of time I checked my watch to ensure that I would not be late. You need to be aware that I have quite an active complex about being on time so this was not unusual for me. After a while I checked my watch and discovered that very little time had passed and I still had ample time to enjoy the grounds. Shortly after I noticed one of the other newbies calling me to come back as - horrors or horrors - they were waiting for me.  I had kept them all including Helen waiting - one of my great fears. I looked at my watch and discovered that it had stopped shortly after I started my little sabbatical. I returned quickly giving my apologies and checking my watch again noticed that it had started working once again and continued to keep accurate time the rest of my stay at Apple Farm. 

For that brief interlude time stood still for me – me who has always been very aware of time and being on time. I believe that the one who sends us dreams and synchronicities was giving me that lesson. The trickster was playing with my on-time complex. I still struggle with an overly active desire to be on time to places, as my wife who has no problem in this regard will attest. However, when this happens, I remind myself of the time when my unconscious conspired for me to keep Helen Luke waiting.

Growing Old

Rev Greg Little, long-term friend of the Farm, reflects on aging. This article was published September 24, 2024 in the Huron Church News, the Diocesean paper of the Huron Diocese of the Anglican Church of Canada, based in London Ontario.
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​American essayist and wise woman, Helen Luke, in her book Old Age: Journey into Simplicity, writes of the challenge of growing old as opposed to aging chronologically - her emphasis being on ‘growing’. I first read this work, along with other works by Luke, when I was in my early sixties. I embraced that approach, and it has been a goal of mine to do just that – grow old with the emphasis on growing. I have done this haltingly with very mixed results.   Now that quite a bit of time has passed since then and I am old by most definitions – turning 75 recently, I think it would be useful to revisit what I wrote in my reflection on that work. This was a reflection on Luke’s imaginings of a journey taken by Odysseus following his epic return home from the Trojan war. It is a journey in which he grows old – a true hero’s journey. 

Here the symbol of his former life—the oar which cut the water and propelled him through the hero’s journey of his youth—has now taken on a new symbolic meaning—a winnowing fan. The winnowing fan that separated the wheat from the chaff will enable us to see clearly and differentiate the wheat, which provides the bread of heaven to nourish our souls, from the chaff which feeds our egos with empty calories.

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The journey of growing old is one of increasing humility—where we see clearly the folly of youth—the striving and the conquests that youth is inevitably err to. Will we give in to the temptation to hold onto the dream of recapturing our fading youth or will we seek the new way in which our oars will become winnowing fans. Again, we face a challenge—to plant the oar of our last journey in a new land that will grow as we continue to explore the new land of our growing old.
 
As the signs of aging creep up on me and I resign myself to the increasing challenges of greeting a new day with less vigor than usual and I have what seems to be more “senior moments”, I can see that this new land of growing old is not for the faint of heart. It will bring new challenges as my horizon shrinks – and not just because I need a new prescription for my glasses.  I find myself a stranger in a strange land. This new land requires a new way to navigate through it which I am just beginning to explore, and I haven’t discovered a GPS that truly works yet.
​

​Atul Gawande, a physician and author who has explored this land with his patients and himself with great patience and wisdom, writes: 

And what I realized is, we were not really talking about death or dying.
We were really talking about: How do you live a good life
all the way to the very end, with whatever comes?
​And that’s where you begin to unpack. 

 
May we be blessed to all grow old on our journey in this new land. 
​
Blog entry by Pamela Dintaman, November 2024
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Chaos to Meaningful Order

2/27/2021

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FROM APPLE FARM WRITER/ARTIST, Kathy Stiffney

This is a series of images I took as a painting developed. They provide an example of working with seeming chaos , allowing (with inner guidance) the prime material to direct movement toward meaningful order.  
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The House

2/20/2021

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FROM APPLE FARM WRITER, Jo Marie Thompson

The House
​

You walked for years to this house
knowing your work awaited,
yet mysteriously unable to arrive:
the map lost,
the door chained,
the price too high,
the neighborhood in rubble.

Stomping past promises, dreams
plans, family, betrayals and suicides,
assaults, careers and callings,
animals, chances, books & statues,
deities, death and more death, gurus, rivers
poets, wars, medicines & metaphysics,
canyons & their trails, the striving activists,
mathematics, horses aplenty, inheritance,
marriage, the state of New Mexico.
Even wholeness did not hold.

Finally, though possessing
no carpenter skill,
you began to build.
Stone after stone,
rafter on rafter.
Feathers rained down. 
Toads watched,
glossy eyed and silent
from the slick logs of the
trees you had to fell.

At last, the doors were hung
the windows tight and
the stove in place.
You stalked to your desk,
snug by the wall,
alone in an empty, airy room.
The Work could begin.

Day followed day, season on season.
The cool air tangible inside,
gaze fixed on paned windows while
outside, fantastic scenes coarsed on --
arisings & vanishings, rivers & drought,
flames of the rarest sort
consuming impossible treasure,
Gods at battle, ladders to nowhere,
everything happening and
nothing taking place.

And still waiting; still and waiting.
The Work did not come.

Until one broad day in the
countless teeming of days:
a quiet breath, a turning,
and there in the far corner --
your very own likeness
and yet wholly Other
in a shimmer of wings and
a shrouding of cloud, shrugging
and with a weary smile: 
“Now, may we begin?”

Jo Marie Thompson
Kevala Retreat
January 28, 2021
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CHAOS AND CREATION

2/14/2021

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FROM APPLE FARM WRITER, Joan Yoder Miller

What do we want to say from Apple Farm about CHAOS AND CREATION?

Shortly after the Paris bombing in November 2015 Apple Farm closed for the winter months.  I wondered how we might stay in touch when the world seemed so full of fear.  So the winter writing project launched in early 2016 was "What do we have to say from Apple Farm about fear?"  Each winter we write -- story, prose, poetry, images.

To stir the pot for our thinking about CHAOS AND CREATION, a folktale from China:

Repaying Hun-tun's Kindness
    Long ago before the beginnings of the universe, there existed nothing except unformed chaos.  At that time, Hu, whose name means "sudden," was Emperor of the Northern Sea, and Shu, whose name signifies "brief," was Emperor of the Southern Sea.*  Emperors Hu and Shu were friends that were separated by great distance.  They met halfway between their two domains in the territory of Hun-tun, Emperor of the Center, whose name means "chaos."  Emperor Hun-tun was hospitable to these two friends making it possible for them to meet as often as they wished. 
    During one visit, Shu and Hu said to one another, "Without the Emperor of the Center, we would be unable to meet this like this.  What might we do to repay Hun-tun's kindness."
    After much thought, Shu and Hu said to each other, "But of course!  Despite his wonderful qualities, the Emperor of the Center is different from the rest of us.  He lacks the seven orifices that are needed for seeing, smelling, eating, breathing and hearing.  Let us bore the necessary holes in him so that he too can have the seven features like the rest of us.  This is the way we can repay his kindness."  Hun-tun gladly agreed and gave permission to have seven holes bored into him. 
    The next day, Shu and Hu began boring the Emperor of the Center at the rate of one orifice a day.  By the sixth day, with six openings in his body, Hun-tun was appearing quite similar to them.  Then, on the seventh day, Shu and Hu began boring the last hole.  But much to their shock, as soon as their work ended, Hun-tun could neither move nor talk.  Hun-tun, whose name means "chaos," was dead.  And at that very moment, as Shu and Hu stood together and watched in awe, they also saw the beginnings of the creation of the world and all its inhabitants.
​

*Although the words Shu and Hu combined (Shu-hu) means "lightning," it is thought that this was broken down by Chuang-tzu in this myth to denote the truth that when the illumination from light strikes chaos, it leads to the creation of life and the restoration of order.
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Suffering and Social Class

9/29/2020

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​It was a pleasure to read from Helen’s essay on suffering during the Thursday evening group.  In her essay, Helen says:  “There  was no guilt involved in being born into this or that social class, but nowadays we are beset on every side by false guilt which is inverted pride."

I was interested to find the following quote from Robin DiAngelo just the day after Thursday night group on Suffering:
 
  • "I am sometimes asked whether my work reinforces and takes advantage of white guilt. But I don’t see my efforts to uncover how race shapes my life as a matter of guilt. I know that because  I was socialized as white in a racism-based society, I have a racist worldview, deep racial bias, racist patterns, and investments in the racist system that has elevated me. Still, I don’t feel guilty about racism. I didn’t choose this socialization, and it could not be avoided. But I am responsible for my role in it. To the degree that I have done my best in each moment to interrupt my participation, I can rest with a clearer conscience. But that clear conscience is not achieved by complacency or a sense that I have arrived. Unlike heavy feelings such as guilt,  the continuous work of identifying my internalized superiority and how it may be manifesting itself is incredibly liberating. When I start from the premise that of course I have been thoroughly socialized into the racist culture in which I was born, I no longer need to expend energy denying that fact. I am eager—even excited—to identify my inevitable collusion so that I can figure out how to stop colluding! Denial and the defensiveness that is needed to maintain it is exhausting."  DiAngelo, Robin J., White Fragility (p. 148 and149). Beacon Press. Kindle Edition.

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    ...it is in part by our response to the great stories of the world  that we too can begin to find, each of us this individual story expressing the symbolic meaning behind the facts of our fate and behind the motives that determine the day-to-day choices of our lives.  -Helen Luke, The Inner Story

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