Chapter 59. As me

The space in between everything is not space at all but Spirit. 

God is the "Goodness Glue" that holds the dark and light of things together, the free energy that carries all death across the Great Divide and transmutes it into Life.

In early 2016 I am thinking about “good”: what is good, being good, making (people, situations, moments) good, looking for good.

“Find the good in all” is my mantra. These words of Rohr’s, that I read, resonate with me:

“Your task is to find the good, the true, and the beautiful in everything,

even and most especially the problematic.”

It seems to me that finding the good, for me, is good. Being attentive to – looking earnestly for – the good is a healthful, holy, desirable focus.

I tend to distort a focus on good toward trying hard to be good.

On March 23, 2016, my enneathought said this –

“Pay attention to all the little ways you try to “do the right thing.

Do you straighten things as you go by?

Do you hold yourself in by how you dress, how you breathe, how you move?

Do you try to shut down “bad” feelings and thoughts?

Today notice why you think your constant efforts to be good are necessary.”

-          The Wisdom of the Enneagram, 107

Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Why do I think I must strive to be good?  Because I still feel I need to prove my worth? Because I must order my behavior toward “good” to BE good, since it’s not my deeply held belief that I AM good?

Note to self: there is significant difference between finding the good and trying to be good. Instead of trying so hard to be good, I can look for the good in all – including me. Embrace my goodness. God is Good, calls God’s creation good, God made me. God lives in me, even lives AS me. That is good!

“I live inside my own heart.”

- Prince

My journey of understanding my relationship with the divine has progressed something like this --

God is for me 

   (Christ died for ungodly Rom 5:6, God is for us Rom 8:31, God fights for you Ex 14:14),

God is with me 

   (I am with you always Matt 28:20),

God is in me 

   (the Spirit lives in you Rom 8:11, John 14:7, one God above all things, through all things, in all things Ephesians 4:6),

God is as me 

   (in God we live and move and have our being Acts 17:28).

The divine as me. Even IS me?

“Both Franciscan John Duns Scotus and Dominican Thomas Aquinas said Deus est Ens,

God is Being itself.

The mystery of cosmic incarnation, when taken to its theological conclusion, leads us to enjoy a very real participation in the same single state of Being, to varying degrees and with different qualities. This eliminates any radical distinction between things, peoples, and creatures because Christ existed in all matter from the first moment of the Big Bang.

Remember, "There is only Christ! He is everything and he is in everything" (Colossians 3:11). 

Now astrophysics tells us that the same molecules which existed at the beginning are still reshaping the universe now into endlessly new forms.

All those songs about you being stardust are quite literally true.”

 –Richard Rohr, Nov 3, 2015 email

Chapter 58. Lovingkindness

Love is the source and goal, faith is the slow process of getting there, and hope is the willingness to move forward without resolution and closure. 

And these are indeed, "the three things that last" (1 Corinthians 13:13).

People who have these gifts--faith, hope, and love--are indestructible.

– Richard Rohr

One of the most winsome words I know is “lovingkindness.” Of course it’s lovely to me because of the concept it represents. Love and kindness coupled – such a dynamic duo. 

My favorite repeating phrase in the Scriptures is

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.”

- Exodus 34:6, Numbers 14:18, Psalm 86:15, Psalm 103:8, Joel 2:13, Jonah 4:2

I feel though that I don’t know much about God anymore.

I acknowledge THAT GOD (Divine/Goodness/Love) IS, and I want to believe that the Divine is lovingkind. But in my fogginess around a God concept, I don’t have any idea of what to pray to.

Oftentimes, in these last few years, I am much estranged toward prayer.

“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”

– Thich Nhat Hanh

I breathe. I can pray by breathing – breathe in “Yah,” breathe out ”weh”: the divine of the breath is what gives me life.

“Prayer is nothing more than the inhalation and exhalation of the breath of the universe.”

And I CAN still wish for well, for others and for self, and pray in that way. I am helped immensely by the practice of lovingkindness meditation. 

[Did you know that this practice increases positive emotions? See https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3156028/

And there’s other social/psychological benefits: See http://deesdirt.blogspot.com/search?q=lovingkindness+meditation]

Repeat the affirmations below, or change the wording to suite the person prayed for, as many times as desired.

May I be free from inner and outer harm and danger. May I be safe and protected.

May I be free of mental suffering or distress.

May I be happy.

May I be free of physical pain and suffering.

May I be healthy and strong.

May I be able to live in this world happily, peacefully, joyfully, with ease. 

When ready, replace the "I" in each statement with someone else's name. Gradually widen the flow of love to include: a beloved, a friend, an acquaintance, someone who has hurt you, and finally the whole universe.

“There is nothing better or more necessary than love.”

– St. John of the Cross

Chapter 57. True colors

“The world is full of magic things, 

patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”

-W. B. Yeats

DREAM. Sunday, February 28, 2016. “Human, hawk, hen”  

I am walking in a grassy natural area, maybe something like a state park, near the perimeter of a circular space. In the near distance and toward the center of the circle I spot a hawk on or near the ground, barely visible above and through the tan tall grasses (is it dormant season?). I also see spots of color that I identify as beautiful birds of which I often don’t get to observe – two goldfinches (or bright yellow birds of some species) and a vivid blue bird and more, flying and landing, so only occasionally observable. 

Then I see bright yellow and orange splotches of color – it’s a beautiful wild/undomesticated hen, being scared up by the hawk. It appears it’s jumping up out of the grass when the hawk lunges toward the vividly colored and intricately marked hen. 

The hawk’s beak poke is being provoked as it’s startled by a human. Later I see the human is Jim Prichard. I want to talk a bit.

In the first months of 2016 I am reading through Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth by Robert A. Johnson. I attempt to do as the author suggests of identifying all the dream images and then follow a four-step approach:

1) Make associations - record any associations with each dream image;

2) Connect dream images to inner dynamics - apply the images to parts of self or dynamics in my inner life;

3) Interpret – put together the information gleaned in the first two steps to arrive at a view of the dream’s meaning;

4) Do rituals to make the dream concrete.

A recounting of my process (and I’m still processing!) can be found in footnote “Human, hawk, hen dream images.” I offer a crude interpretation here 

(the long footnote offered below is for my reference) -

The me of now wants to talk a bit to the me of yesteryear. Early spiritual me is represented by the adult male human, indicative of my more certain and steadfast religiousity. There is a nudge from that certainty that provokes my sense of authority, represented by the hawk. That hawk is strong but aloof, a predator but for the reason of survival. But the hawk is grounded now – unusually so: I think that may be a picture of my feeling of spiritual power: that though I perceived my power as soaringly hawk-like previously, now is most often grounded. This grounded hawk though is not keeping still: it’s lunging toward the hen, causing the hen to come up out of the weeds, high enough to be seen.

I think the dream hen offers a vivid picture of my being that gives life and nurtures life. The hen has beautiful markings and color, with primary color of orange. I claim orange now as “my color” and it indicates an acceptance of the energy in me that I used to label as frenetic, and now try to accept as lively and beautiful, such as when paired with purples as is seen in a sunset. Probably this truer hen self has opportunity to be “seen” more when the old authoritative egoic-hawk me is more grounded.

I want to see more of this undomesticated amazingly marked beautiful yellow and orange hen. And more too of the delightful colorful birds flying freely.

“Suffering everywhere, look it’s everywhere…

We must risk delight.

We can do without pleasure but not delight, not enjoyment.

We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness

in the ruthless furnace of the world.”

– Jack Gilbert

Footnote --

--Human, hawk, hen dream images

Associations and dynamics

*Grassy state park/natural area

                Assoc: wilderness, desired environment, serene, tan grass so dry or dormant?, where the wild or undomesticated is, state park is God’s good created natural, good family times and memories, peaceful, a place I like to go but don’t get to everyday

                Dynamics: wild, undomesticated may be the natural, created part of me that sometimes covers a place within I don’t easily access or walk in everyday even though it’s natural/wild; desirable but not easily accessible to me; I don’t live there, but when there I see the beautiful and interesting things (birds, activity) I want to be there.

 *Hawk, almost hidden

                Assoc: strong but aloof, predator but for a reason (survival), fascinating and unusual to see on the ground, beady eyes, penetrating, somewhat scary, souring (on currents, but not in dream), watchful

                Dynamics: power, courage, strength symbol, power of the Great Spirit, watchful; a kind of strength but rather unapproachable, skittish, flighty, maybe authoritarian, usually soars on high (but this dream has the hawk on ground) so unusual; my hawk – spiritual power/awareness – has more often been on the ground lately

*Birds, brightly colored, yellow and blue

                Assoc: desirable to see, vivid in color, unusual, flighty but mighty in beauty

                Dynamics: flighty but mighty in beauty: ethereal and elusive, hard to see, harder yet to catch

*Hen, undomesticated with roundish belly

                Assoc: usually domesticated but this one is wild and free, great detail of feathers and markings, soft= vulnerable, nurturing (like Jesus saying “I long to gather you under my wings”); giver of sustenance (my favorite food is eggs!), in myth/archetype: symbol of vigilance and betrayal; “chicken” = scared of dare

                Dynamics: the part of me that is vulnerable, easily startled? Or gets scared or jumpy but still has valor and is worthwhile?; gives life (eggs); nurtures life (protects its young/chicks); beautiful in color and markings. Want to see more of the chicken – let the chicken be seen

*Yellow

                Assoc: sun’s brightness, God’s nature glory; the color of our bedroom, a color that’s grown on me

Dynamics:

*Orange

                Assoc: MY color (recall Sylvia’s question “If you had to describe yourself as a color, what would it be?”; I have journeyed from thinking of orange as frenetic to now a favorite); vivid; noticeably desirable, the fruit (sweet), sunsets (with purple amazing), symbol of creativity and joy

                Dynamics:

*Human- Jim P.

                Assoc: steadfastly religious, start of my deeper faith practice, seemingly not too much fun, both an embrace of another/God and a rejection; serious, baptism, push/pull in relationship; critical of my lack of boundary

                Dynamic: my religious beginnings, start of maturity; the early part of my adult faith journey and relationships, seriousness, intense steadfast, except when life gets in the way; part of me that thinks it knows what it’s doing, or things it’s right; part of me that’s trying to find the way

Chapter 56. This too

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.  
- Mary Oliver

I started writing my “story” after a crises had ended, and that big event felt like it needed recording. Or, likely more accurately, I felt like a horrible injustice had been done to me and I wanted some recognition for having made it through.

Maybe that recognition was to be primarily from myself.

It also seemed then as if possibly the recounting of what happening, and how we navigated through some tough times, may be of interest someday to others. I have my kids mostly in mind, since they traveled through the rough waters with us (albeit indirectly), and possibly have a few similar tendencies in relating to another (due to both nature and nurture).

The perspective in my writing has changed over the years. I was still quite raw – emotionally bleeding even – in the first five years or so. At the end of a decade post, time had given me distance and I could write with greater understanding for all the players in my drama. Now, in the two decade mark beyond the affair, I have a different stance of grace: looking back over my years I can bring compassion and acceptance to many more of the moments.

“If we do not fill our minds with guilt and self-recriminations, 

we will recognize our incompleteness as a kind of spaciousness into which we can welcome the flow of grace.” 

– Gerald May

The theme that emerged for me at the beginning of recounting my story was dark vs. light: I was keenly aware of considerable internal resistance to the loss of my tidy black-and-white belief system and so many emerging greys. It was shattering to have had such abhorrent treatment by husband and friend, and though I knew on some level that the universe was not so straightforward as to only give me good outcomes for good behavior, I still wanted to never let go of that world-as-predictable illusion. What about “we reap what we sow”? And karma? I recall wondering why God hadn’t held up his end of the deal: I’d tried hard, my WHOLE life, to be good and do good. 

My identity was steeped in being Miss DO-GOODER. How could crap like this happen to me? Though I was resistant and confused, I still had a subconscious recognition that life is not merely dark OR light, black or white, good or bad, but that there is some sort of mysterious comingling. Darkness IS AS light, says the Psalmist. Not sure what that means, but even so, in my confusion let the hauntingly intriguing concept swirl around within. 

Because every story needs a theme (doesn’t it?), mystery was the next focus that I thought I’d rally around. Life’s happenings are ultimately or often un-understandable. Paradoxes abound. Must let the universe pry my dualistic thinking from my clenched fists. Lean into the white fire of mystery that can be dazzling.

The Ponds

Still, what I want in my life

Is to be willing

To be dazzled –

To cast aside the weight of facts

And maybe even

To float a little

Above this difficult world.

I want to believe I am looking

Into the white fire of a great mystery.

I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing –

That the light is everything – that it is more than the sum

Of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.

– Mary Oliver, excerpts of The Pond, from House of Light

And now, in my late 50s, I come to a theme of acceptance – the next, maybe supreme, lesson for my life.  The Wisdom of the Enneagram says,

“The key word Ones need in order to heal is acceptance… if I really want to be in the service of good, I have to work with what is. For Ones to accept reality is also to accept themselves by learning the quality of allowing – allowing people to be, including themselves.”

Acceptance for me means letting go of the constant criticizing, judging, or trying to make it all better (it being me, any other, my surroundings, any situation). 

Acceptance allows, even encourages, understanding and compassion.

“Acceptance opens doors, both inner and outer. People instinctively respond to healthy Ones precisely because Ones make them feel that their concerns are understood and that they are accepted.”  

-  Wisdom of the Enneagram, p 123

Yep, holding a baby alligator. Why not?

“Spare me perfection. 
Give me instead the wholeness that comes from embracing the full reality of who I am, 

just as I am. 

Paradoxically, it is this whole self that is most perfect.”

– David Benner

My thinking has evolved, certainly. Rohr talks about evolved consciousness in the daily emails of early 2016: 

"Observe how we gradually let God grow up. God does not change, but our knowledge of God surely evolves."

It brings to mind stages of growth. 

Janet Hagberg, in The Critical Journey, first introduced me to this idea of stages in spiritual development. This awareness has been a comfort as my beliefs and outlook have changed: change can be good, ‘tis good to grow up. Growth is never in a straight line, but a general direction as we age may look something like this:

-          we discover “God” (or, sans God, begin to discover what ‘life’ or ‘love’ is about),

-          we learn more about God and how to fit into the tribe of other followers (or find whatever group or path for belonging), then

-          we step into working for God (or the tribe or mission), next

-          we journey inward as we rediscover God/Meaning/Love with that process nurtured through difficulties, then

-          we journey outward in surrender to God or what is, with an ultimate landing place of living a life of Love and reflecting God/Goodness.

“It’s no use to go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.”

– Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

Rohr frames it this way: "Another way to look at this is a series of 

Order > Disorder > Reorder.

Most conservatives get trapped in the first step and most liberals get stuck in the second. Healthy religion is all about getting you to the third. Reorder. You must learn the wisdom of both the first and second stages before moving on."

Paula D’Archy succinctly and rather humorously condenses a stage theory this way

o   In our 20s we’re all about saving the world and making a difference;

o   our 30s are about saving coupons and figuring out how to make our days work,

o   our 40s are about saving relationships and telling our story;

o   in our 50s we’re about saving ourselves and exploring neglected parts of self; and finally in

o   in our 60s we’re about saving the world again, but with wisdom and knowledge, giving back out of love and beauty.

Love and beauty. 

Maybe, hopefully, I’m moving more that direction. Maybe I’m becoming more lovingly nurturing and beauty aware.  I want that.

“Above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you,

because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.

Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”

-Roald Dahl, The Minpins

Chapter 55. Let go

“My brokenness is a better bridge for people than my pretend wholeness ever was.”

– Sheila Walsh

There can always be a new beginning. A newer way of being for me is to embrace my brokenness and be willing to let go -

-of my need to keep striving towards what is perfect or right; rather the invitation is to allow a serene acceptance of this moment and this human person that is me.

Life is not about being correct but about being connected.

-of my need to judge. Though I still believe discernment is good and there are some things that are helpful rather than harmful – I may not always be called to or able to determine just what is what; rather I can allow Goodness within (might label that Spirit/Divine?) to discern what is finally good, and thus more easily relate to and encourage the other, and to accept and even mirror goodness in another.

“Good people will mirror goodness in us – which is why we love them so much.”

- St. Clare of Assissi

St. Clare also said, 

“Let the Light mirror you.” 

“Look upon the mirror [of perfect love] each day.”

There is more willingness in me to want to love, and to let go of striving and judging. 

Or I’m just weary, and don’t have the energy to strive and judge so much anymore. 

It's probably some of both: truly I am letting go, and truly I am tired.

We remodel part of our house during 2014-2015. It’s a big effort, with much of the sweat equity coming from Gregg and me and a bit of help from our kids. We hire out the big jobs of digging basement, laying block, pouring basement floor concrete, framing walls and installing windows of front porch, plumbing for the new bathroom, sheetrocking and mudding the new walls – that sounds like a lot that others did, but there’s still so much for us to do!

Rebekah and Zachary Sapato set a wedding date of August 1, 2015 and we push hard to get the house and yard ready for a backyard ceremony. 

The wedding happens on a beautiful day – blue skies and bright sun, hot temperatures but mediated by shade from the backyard trees to cool the guests sitting on the 170 chairs we fit into our little back yard, gloriously celebratory of relationships and community – one of my favorite days ever. 

It is such an honor to officiate. 

I take the opportunity to internally rededicate our home and relationship, and to  more externally encourage Rebe and Zach in their personal goodness and collective ability to do relationship well. A portion of my address to them follows:

“We are standing today on what used to be sparse grass and the space where our beloved collie used to relieve herself. Each spring, upon snow melt, there would be a multitude of droppings to be picked up. One spring during a time of intense husband-wife difficulties, while picking up the poop, I reflected to myself: “Yep shit happens. Still, I don’t have step into it, smear it around, stay in the mess  – I can choose rather to avoid much it by stepping carefully, picking it up and tossing it away…” 

Through our messy time, Gregg and I proceeded mostly carefully through the yuk. As needed, so can you, through whatever yuk comes your way, not the same difficulties, but some difficulties that are inevitable in any relationship.

Today, there are plants and a labyrinth in this same space of previous mess. 

Now there’s beauty, and inspiration. Walking, or even looking at a labyrinth, reminds me to keep on in the journey: sometimes we move toward center, sometimes away from it, occasionally we are dead center, most of the time not. 

And so with relationships: we continue, we accept and appreciate this person. We keep finding beauty and love. We keep dreaming.

You two can keep on in this journey of love. And you will do it well.

Rebekah and Zachary, we, your community, the people that love you, today celebrate with you; we will keep on supporting your commitment and care, and we will keep on believing, with you, in an unbelievable love. Amen.”

After all that wonderful flurry, I am “all in” as our old neighbor Mark would say; I am wiped out in late summer 2015.

In September, Mom gets diagnosed with cancer that has metasticised into her bones: we dive with her into that journey of dying.

Though worn out and sad, this time of life brings joyful happenings too, in addition to the wedding. Such as: realizing that God/Diving/LOVE loves me like I love my grandkids – probably even much more than I love my grandkiddos. 

I DELIGHT in those little ones. That delight is not based on any kind of performance, it is just for who they are. They receive that delight innocently and completely. 

My relationship with them reveals to me that God delights in each of them and in me and in all of us in similar ways.

Maybe life is about delighting in each other.

Maybe life is about becoming more aware of our innate goodness.

Most likely, to be able to do that, I’m needing to continually let go of old ways.

Chapter 54. Act medium

“Nobody act too big, nobody act too small, everybody act medium.” 
– Will Healy, describing his and his friend’s youthful club motto

During our spring 2013 visit to Norway, Olaug and I talk of ethnic propensities – such as the Germanic tendency to be tough on self and each other, rather demanding, hesitant to smile, reticent to express emotions, and an inclination to keep things inside. Scandinavian tendencies are not so different: also reticient, skeptical, cautious, reserved, not terribly empathetic.

Dee, Olaug, & Gunnar Torset, Kristiansaand, Norway

Olaug also mentions the law of Jante: an ethos that says we’re not supposed to be showing off, we “don’t think we’re something, creep low.” This ‘law’ identifies a pattern “within Scandinavian communities that negatively portrays and criticizes individual success and achievement as unworthy and inappropriate.”  (Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Law_of_Jante)

May I mention here my ethnicity? Dad was "all" Norwegian; Mom's mother's side was strongly German and her father's side mostly English, with some Pennsylvanian Dutch (German). In December 2016 I learn, from an Ancestry.com DNA test that my dear daughter so considerately purchased for me, that my ethnicity estimates are: 

Scandinavian 58% 

Europe West 23% 

Europe East 14% 

trace regions 4% 
    Great Britain 1%, 
    Iberian Peninsula <1%, 
    Ireland <1%, 
    European Jewish <1%.

I was wishing there was Native American in the mix, possibly one of the Hubbard men could have comingled that into their bloodline, but apparently to no avail. There is a teeny bit of Jewish and Irish though: that's fun.

Mostly Scandinavian and German: maybe not so much fun? 

Back to the law of Jante. There are ten rules in the law as defined by Aksel Sandemose, in his novel A fugitive crosses his tracks; all expressive of variations on a single theme and usually referred to as a homogeneous unit:

You are not to think you're anyone special or 

that you're better than us.

The ten rules state:

You're not to think you are anything special.

You're not to think you are as good as us.

You're not to think you are smarter than us.

You're not to convince yourself that you are better than us.

You're not to think you know more than us.

You're not to think you are more important than us.

You're not to think you are good at anything.

You're not to laugh at us.

You're not to think anyone cares about you.

You're not to think you can teach us anything.

In the book, the Janters who transgress this unwritten 'law' are regarded with suspicion and some hostility, as it goes against the town's communal desire to preserve harmony, social stability, and uniformity.

This is contrasted with the exception of a few Norwegian communities (or at least one); an example is the one in which Gunnar originated. Gunnar (relative by marriage, wife of Olaug) is a descendant of numerous Scandinavian kings, including King Olaf of St. Olaf College fame. In Gunnar’s area, not far north of where the Skarstein’s lived, the people were industrious, creative, risk-takers, and ready to grab any opportunity.

Though the Apalsets were more ‘conservative’ they ventured to  America and made a new life. Necessity often times urges us into different patterns.

(For more about their experience in the new country, see the article on Johan and Johanna’s life in Yellow Medicine County, MN, posted on ancestry.com, http://mv.ancestry.com/viewer/20ae3766-e443-4aa0-8575-ee63e1ec7338/16979894/1372263651?_phsrc=Eei333&usePUBJs=true)

A new beginning, is what they pursued and procured. 

Chapter 53. Work hard

Skipper house, where the Mennick skippers hung out

In spring 2013 Gregg and I visit distant relatives in Netherlands and Norway. 

The Dutch have a reputation for cleanliness and pride, keeping things under control, keeping up appearances. 

Gregg’s Holland ancestors were enterpreneurial: they were skippers in the late 1600s when there was a living in harvesting peat moss, then in later years they were diligent farmers of the soil, then rigorous engineers.

The Dutch in general are hardworking, cleanly, concerned about appearances, proud ("If you ain't Dutch, you ain't much.").
Ask Gregg for more on his family. 

My Norwegian forebearers were land dependent fjord dwellers, apple growers, church goers, persistent and hearty folk.

When we visited Norway in spring 2013, I record this about our time there and the APALSET history:

“We arrived in Oslo on April 29 and stayed overnight with Helga Karin and Kjell Rannekleiv and their son Vebjørn in Lillestrøm. Helga Karin is Olaug and Gunner’s daughter and a lawyer in Oslo.

After a day plus of sightseeing in Oslo (with our previous neighbor and dear friend Anne some of the day!) and an overnight bus ride through terrain we sadly had to miss seeing since it was dark, we arrive in Sandane, Norway, in the early morning of May 1, 2013. 

Ola, son of Asbjørg Apalset, is waiting. We learn later that he and Asbjørg had been notified by Gunnar the day before about when the bus was due to arrive, plus Ola did his own checking to learn that the taxi van from Skei would roll into town a little earlier than the original plan. Upon seeing this distant relative climb out of his car as Gregg and I stepped out of the bus, we hugged and I marveled,

Ola and Asbjørg Apalset, 2013

“You knew we’d be a little early?”

With a half-smile he replied, “Of course.”

On the ride from Sandane to the north side of the fjord arm where the Apalset farm resides (in the Gloppen area, which is in the south and east portion of Nordfjord, and refers to a “filca” or community), Ola is cordial and asks,

“How was your bus ride?” and then proceeds to lapse into considerable quiet. 

I offer a few questions, and we take in the scenic countryside of water and steep fjord terrain on the way to the Apalset farm.

My sister Cindy tells a story of visiting this farm of Jakob Apalset’s (1941-1998) while traveling with Dad – maybe 20 years previous to our visit – when one of the girls of the family, upon seeing Dad at the door with no forewarning of his visit, called back to the adults, “That man is here again.” 

Asbjørg and Jakob, 1960s

It wasn't my father’s first appearance unannounced.

[An aside: my Dad was a talkative and spontaneous and traveler. He was less ebullient in other areas, especially around expressing his inner world. In talking with Asbjørg, we determined that Apalset's, in general, are expressive only after much thought, with a need to ‘think it out.’]

Asbjørg Apalset’s husband, Jakob (a teacher and politician/leader of the Christian party in the area, who died in 1998 of a heart attack), was the eldest son of Alfred (1897-1977) and Alfred was the son of Jakob (1848-1931; picture left of the elder Jakob and his wife Magdeli). 

Magdeli and Jakob Apalset, early 1900s?

Jakob (grandfather of Asborg's husband Jakob) and Johann (my great grandfather) were brothers.

The farm has stayed in the Apalset family for at least 150 years, and likely more. The house where Asbjørg lives now was built in 1877 and remodeled in 1977. The name Apalset is derived from “set,” a place to live in; and “Apal.” which sometimes refers to wild apple trees. The land, with apple trees still on site, seems to have been ‘in the family’ for a few hundred years. 

Apalset fjord farm house with apple trees, Sandane, Norway

Asbjørg and her son Ola tell us that they may be letting go of farming apples as there is little to no profit presently. The farmers we meet in Norway both tend the farm (be it cultivating apples, tending sheep, growing grass for animal feed) and hold a ‘day’ job. Others mention too that farmers are presently low on the earning scale, and they’re hoping the socialistic ‘state’ will eventually help even out some differences in wages earned.

Again, my great grandfather Johan Apalset (1859-1930), was brother of Jakob (1848-1931, eldest son of Ole Olson Apalset and Rakel Asebo, picture of Jakob left). 

Johan Olsen Apalset immigrated to the USA in 1884 with Johanna Skarstein, shortly after their brother Ole (probably his given Norwegian name was Ola Olsen Apalset) immigrated in 1879 to Minnesota. 

The Norwegian law granted the family farm to the eldest son: only in 1960 did the law change to give the family land to oldest child – rather than the eldest male – allowing daughters some land inheritance. So it’s most likely that Ole/a and Johan felt they couldn’t support themselves or a future family in Norway, and choose the ‘opportunity’ of crossing the ocean and settling on the American frontier. There was land to be had in America. The prairie land of southwest Minnesota was markedly different than their fjord homeland and likely a significant adjustment, yet it was available ground to be farmed by the hard-working.

Johan didn’t come to the United States alone. With him was Johanna Skarstein, who had arrived to the Sandane, Gloppen area as a teenager. Johanna’s father, Hans Larsen Skarstein married Elisabeth Muri Knoph around 1855. It’s probable that Hans, though from a village not far from Sandane called Skarstein (note that Han’s last name is the same as the town name: often the place of dwelling became the last name of individuals), found some work in Bortne and met Elisabeth (from Olden). Elisabeth was a widow and had two children from a previous marriage (Elisa M Knoph b. 1850, and Peter Knoph b. 1852) and when she and Hans married, he settled in her home town of Bortne. The five children from the union of Hans and Elisabeth were Rasmus (1857-1924), Johanna, Jens, Rasmine (Mina), and Gertrud (Jenny). Only Jens stayed in Norway, settling in the Bergen area. The rest of the children eventually immigrated to America.

Hans remarried Kristianne, after Elisabeth died during the attempted delivery of her sixth child. From Hans and Kristianne came Oline (1879-1971), half sister to Johanna. My closest living relative in Norway is Olaug, who is granddaughter of Oline (who had daughter Kamilla, who is the mother of Olaug).

** (For more, see “A bit about Johanna’s siblings” in small print at the end; it's included mostly for my reference - no need for others to read!)

They endured much to start a new life in a new place. Many of us in the US Midwest are descendants of immigrants, and have a deep sense that our lives can’t compare to their hardship and grit. 

Maybe some of that awareness shapes my compulsion to work hard?

**A bit about Johanna’s siblings (children of Hans and Elisabeth):

-          Jens stayed in Norway;
-          Rasmus settled on a homestead in Alexandria, MN, his descendant Ralph now lives in AZ; Rasmus’s first wife Marie Smerud died in childbirth in 1894 leaving him with two children (Emma and Harriet) so he took a train to find a helper and found Carrie Eide from Nordfjord area – they eventually married and had three children);

-          Mina was a shoemaker and had no children;

-          Jenny immigrated to Canada.

Elisabeth died in childbirth, possibly during the attempted delivery of her sixth child. After Elizabeth died, Hans left the Bortne farm – since Elisabeth’s Knoph’s kids got that farm – and he eventually went to help Kristianne Endal, another widow whose husband had drowned.  Hans brought his children to Leirgulen where Kristianne resided, and he married Kristianne.

From Hans and Kristianne came Oline (1879-1971) who is Olaug’s grandmother (Oline was mother of Kamilla, mother of Olaug; Olaug’s siblings are Per Gunnar in Vedvik near Maloy, and Solgunn near Oslo).

In the aftermath of having to leave the Bortne farm, the children from the Hans and Elisabeth union needed a home since Hans couldn’t support them all. It’s likely that Jenny lived with Hans and Kristianne (and thus got to know Oline; Jenny went eventually to Canada) and possibly too Mina. But the others found work elsewhere: Johanna, it seems, in the Sandane area near the Apalset farm. Johanna (often referred to as Hanna) was a young teenager when she needed to leave her ‘home’ in Bortne (Johanna’s daughter Inga recalls that her mother said there was sun only in the summertime as Bortne is between tall mountains) and strike out on her own. It’s presumed that she met Johan in the Sandane area, and eventually “left for America and never came back” (as said by Olaug quoting her grandmother Oline).

Oline was in touch with her half-siblings until 1913, especially exchanging letters with Jenny. After that there were no more letters from across the ocean. It’s thought that Johanna got sick and had so much pain that her illness was difficult to diagnose. She was sent to a mental hospital and died there (in 1912 or 1913). [Olaug said it was reported to her that Johanna had “blue spots” on her body, possibly due to scarlet fever? Leah Shimmer says she died from acute nephritis.] Johanna is buried in Clarkfield; records are at Yellow Medicine County court house.

Oline (and her husband Severin Lofnes) took care of her dad and mom Kristianne until 1908 when both Hans and Kristianne died.  At the time of her mom and dad’s death, Oline was just 29 (her father was 48 and her mother 44 when she was born). She and Severin lived on the family farm and had Helmfred (1907-1998), Ola (1911-1994), and Kamilla (1919-2008). 
Still Oline felt so lonely for extended family.  She had some pictures of Johanna in America. But there was no correspondence with the American relatives from 1913 through the 1970s. It was a long gap and was “such a shame” that no one wrote.

In 1976, when Inga ‘appeared’ (visiting Bortne for the 1^st time) and speaking Norwegian, she did not find any relatives. But Olga tells that uncle Helmfred heard about the American lady visiting Borne and looking for the Skarstein family. He then understood that this was some of the lost family of his mother and got hold of Inga’s address and wrote to her. She talked and wrote Norwegian fluently and a warm and close relationship was established between her and her cousins Kamilla and Helmfred, writing lots of letters and sending pictures.

Unfortunately Oline had died five years earlier and never got to meet or know anything about her siblings in the US. Inga visitied Norway with Dennis and Ruby in 1985 (or so). And she stayed with Olaug and Gunnar, and Kamilla at Per Gunnar’s farm, and at Helmfred and Hilda’s home (Olines) in Leirgulen in addition to the Apalsets.

Oline had a clear mind and was caring. She lived on the farm in Leirgulen with her family about ten years as a widow. She had always prayed that she wouldn’t be a burden.  At age 92, after knitting some socks and delivering a package to her neighbors, she noticed the cows were scattered. She rounded them up, then sat down and died (presumably a heart attack).

Now Olaug and Gunnar Torset own that farm (since 1972) since Helmfred’s only child died when he was 20 and there were no closer kin to inherit it. Olaug and Gunnar helped on the farm in summertime as long as Helmfred farmed it – but as they were studying in Oslo (theology and professional sisal work) and later working in different congregations they never lived on the farm. These days they come there for vacation with the extended family. Helga and Kjell are taking over the farm summer 2013. This farm is just 3 miles from Bortne and the farm where Hans Skarstein lived with Elisabeth. The farm where Per Gunnar lives is where Kamilla was married and where Olaug too grew up.