Dead End or New Beginning?

The End is the Beginning...

This picture grabbed my attention.  The “Dead End” contrast with the flowers which always return each year.  How can such living beauty portend a dead end?  There’s no dead end in nature’s cycles of life.  T.S. Eliot described it: 

What we call the beginning is often the end.

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from.

Sometimes we need to reach a dead end to find a new way.  Think back.  How often did you hit a dead end and find it as a new beginning, the place to start over?  

There’s more than cycles of making our dead ends into new beginnings.  Something ultimate about life itself….  Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”  (John 12:24)  Jesus used nature to point out the deeper truth in human nature.  Some say that he not only understood people this way.  He had to live it himself—the very seed that died and rose to new life.  

S-p-e-e-d of Heart Living, Pt. 2

Sacred Living 

with God-Given Rhythm

Yesterday’s blog entry suggested that our physical hearts have a fundamental rhythm, the lub/dub of engagement/recovery for which to pace our lives.  Who argues with the fact that we need basic periods of activity and rest.  Author Jim Loehr suggests putting blocks of time together during the day--engaged activity (about 90 mins) and then recovery and rest (10-15 mins). The truth beats in our hearts. 

What stands behind the physical basis of life? For some of us, the Creator stands behind and within the heart beat.  Living at the speed of the heart can be a faith statement of conforming our lives around a divine principle.  If we accept the reality of a Creator, then it is not a big jump to conform our lives as the creation to the rhythm of God.  We honor our bodies as “temples of the Holy Spirit” by the way we use them.  Paul writes in I Corinthians 3:16:  “Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?^”  

The Roman Catholic tradition of the sacred heart of Jesus can anchor our lives in God.  

This belief suggests that the literal, physical heart of Jesus is an objective link with us.  We can conform ourselves to Jesus, a real person, instead of just the concept of engagement and recovery in life.  The tradition of the sacred heart says that there is a real relationship between our lives and Jesus. A relationship with him goes far beyond the physical rhythm of life.   

We can still use the Loehr formula.  Change the content from work to the work of our spiritual lives. We can engage in all forms of service in the world.  Then, balance that engagement with meditation time, centering prayer, regaining focus and reflection with a journal. 

Let's look at the pattern of Jesus' ministry in Mark 2.  He is really engaged with preaching, teaching and healing the paralytic.  Then, he goes off to a "lonely place" and prays before dawn.  Heart healthy living for our spiritual lives deserves both times of engaged ministry and quiet rest in God.  Some point to the example of Mary and Martha.  Mary rests at the feet of Jesus while Martha prepares dinner.  We need both.  And both are tied to Jesus.

 

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in Thee,

Whatever may befall me, Lord, though dark the hour may be;

In all my woes, in all my joys, though nought but grief I see,

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in Thee.

S-p-e-e-d of Heart Living

Living at the Speed 

of your Heart

We have always raced our technology.  We run to keep up with it.  Once we obtain it, then it runs our lives.  Anyone want to take a guess at how many hours we burn each day plugged into our I-somethings.  The problem is more than the reality of becoming an extension of the technology.  Mere automatons….  That’s bad enough. 

However, the deeper problem is that we are made to live at the speed of our hearts. Say that again because it is too easy to believe—the speed of our hearts. (I am drawing this idea from Wayne Meuller who got it from Mark Nepo, but God holds the copyright.)  The heart has one function—to pump life-giving blood through the body.  It has two movements: (1) engagement and (2) recovery—lub/dub.  Jim Loehr, in The Power of Engagement, tells us that our lives should have one function—to give life—and two movements: engagement and recovery.  Do we have times of powerful, creative engagement?  How about intentional times for recovery?  

The point is that we have to be intentional about how we live.  Go ahead and use the technology.  But know when to shut it off.  Have set times to respond to emails, answer the cell phones, turn on the I-Pads. We don’t need “smart Phones.”  We need to be smart by living intentionally.  

The symptoms of people who do not shape their lives to the rhythm of their hearts.  You’ll recognize them as over-functioning people, or to follow the analogy, who have “racing hearts.” Those who burn-out have “congestive heart failure.”  Then there are those with so much tech stuff that they need some form of “bypass” to simplify it—which is usually another tech device.   

The point is not to go back to the Little House on the Prairie. It is to use our technology to support lives with a heart-healthy rhythm. Here’s the Loehr guidance:

• 90 minutes maximum of serious engagement—and stop!  Don’t roll over into the next task.  Break! 
• 10-15 mins recovery.  (Walk the hall, go up and down a flight of stairs, go to the restroom and rest!, or, learn to be still, center and take deep breaths for several minutes.)  

What Does Your Face Really Say?

The Face of your Soul 

 

Electric communication will never be a substitute for the face of someone who with their soul encourages another person to be brave and true.

                                                   Charles Dickens

 Recognize the familiar Amazon trademark--"Look Inside?"  Click on it to view the content. Right? Now look in the mirror.  What does your face really say to others?

John Savage, psychologist, writes in Helping Skills, that our body language is always close to 55% of the message. (literal words, 10% and tone, 35%).  So the daily question for us is--what do we really say with our lives?

Remember that haunting  picture called "The Scream?"  Now that's a "talking picture!"  How would you interpret the face of the soul? And if you saw your own picture, what do you think you would really see--what do others see in you? 

Some argue that Facebook is the greatest misnomer around precisely because it gives us words--not the body language of who we really are.  In fact, the MIT communications whiz-kids now tell us that the projections of the "DAILY ME" substitutes for really being ourselves in relationships.  They say we are "two faced"--one way on line, another in public.

It seems to me that the Facebook question is left to each person--is it a prop or does it help us to understand who we are so we can be that in relationship.

I think that Victor Hugo's Les Miserables--the text--hits at the deeper level of who we are.  "When the eyes dry up, so does the soul.  When the eyes cry, we glimpse the soul." Our faces are talking pictures of our souls.

Remember the old saying?  If you are really so happy, please inform your face.  Maybe the reverse is true. If we dare to look into our own faces, we can see our own souls and find an immeasurable worth in who we really are as the handiwork of the Creator.  We are talking pictures.  Perhaps we'd best listen to what our souls are saying.  

Kudzu Farmers

 The Folly of Kudzu 

Is there anyone who has never heard of Kudzu?  I wonder if we have really learned its lesson for our own lives.

Kudzu was imported in the 1920’s to control soil erosion in the South.  It’s quickly growing vines and massive root system made it an outstanding candidate to get the job done.  In fact, it was too good.  It stopped soil erosion, but overgrew everything else!  To be clear, entire hillsides were taken over and vanished under its canopy. It wiped out all other vegetation—including trees; abandoned barns and homes were swallowed alive.  Kudzu became The Blob for the environment.  

 

Now let’s pull the meaning out of this.  How often do we try quick fixes in our lives which end up running completely counter to our interests?  Barbara Tuchman, the two-time Pulitzer Prize winning historian, wrote The March of Folly.  How often do we jump in to fix a problem and end up in quick sand that swallows us alive?  That’s the March of Folly, traced in political systems (Viet Nam, Afghanistan), environmental engineering (DDT, introduction of wolves) and of course the self-help fads (crash diets, pain-killers).  

 

I saw this bumper sticker driving through East Tennessee.  In a way, aren’t we all Kudzu famers, growing our lives with quick fixes that won’t hold up as the foundation for our lives.  Look back over your life?  What are the foundational stones that you have used?  We know the rock that holds us up.  let me suggest in many cases it is not we ourselves, but the gift of other lives who have become a living part of us--even after they pass on.  When we forget what goes into our lives and holds us up, the temptation is all too great jump to quick fixes instead of long term healthy growth. 

 Jesus the teacher reminded people with simple, common sense wisdom how to build their lives. Whatever you do, for God’s sake and yours—use rock!  

  

24 ‘Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. ²⁵The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. ²⁶And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ²⁷The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!’   Matthew 7:24-26.

What do you build your life upon—what makes up its foundation?  One thing we know.  Kudzu won’t cut it—and it is next to impossible to cut it out once it takes root and takes over.

A Story that Shouts!

 Sally Ride, 1951-2012

First Woman in Space

 

Thanks for the Ride, Sally 

Be brave enough to live life creatively.
You have to leave the city of your comfort
and go into the wilderness of your intuition.
You can't get there by bus, only by hard work
and risk and by not quite knowing what you're doing.
What you'll discover will be wonderful. 

Yourself. 

                                                           Alan Alda

The story of Sally Ride has stones that shout to the heavens. No words can capture the character of this woman—brilliant, compassionate, sensitive and funny.  Let this post be dedicated, however, to her awareness of who she was and how she used that to further the lives of others.  In death—she lives on in countless people she set the example and pace.

Sally Ride, the first female astronaut in space, waged her last heroic fight against pancreatic cancer before dying at age 61.  Her legacy is far more than the cultural fact that she broke barriers that held people back for her gender and orientation. The point is that Sally knew that she knew that she was a role model and that she could make a difference for other people.  How many of us achieve, but fail to inspire others?  Think the list of the top achievers in any field.  The accomplishments are spectacular, we say, but as a person, well that remains a question mark.  Sally put an exclamation point on everything.  President Obama put it this way:    "Sally was a national hero and a powerful role model. She inspired generations of young girls to reach for the stars."  Let’s add: women and men of all ages. 

The Christian Science Monitor captured her contribution: 

When Ride first launched into space, feminist icons such as Gloria Steinem and Jane Fonda were at Kennedy Space Center and many wore T-shirts alluding to the pop song with the refrain of the same name: "Ride, Sally Ride.  NASA Administrator Charles Bolden, a former astronaut, said Ride "broke barriers with grace and professionalism — and literally changed the face of America's space program. "The nation has lost one of its finest leaders, teachers and explorers," he said in a statement.

 

Everyday Birth-Day

Nobody Says Happy Birthday Like Dr. Seuss!

Have you read Seuss’ book, Happy Birthday to You—it’s a delight!  He really claims the uniqueness of every person which begins on the date you were born.  Read the quotation below—better yet, buy the book and read it to yourself during the year. 

I just wonder—what do we really date our births from—is it just the literal date when we physically entered the world?  Or, can we grasp a deeper understanding of our stories.  All of us have “foundational stories,” upon which we stand on.  They are from family, our culture, religion and nationality—and any number of subsets particular to you.

Take Seuss himself.  His real name was Theodor Geisel. He literally dated his physical birth on March 2, 1904 in Springfield, MA.  Is that when he was really “born” as the impressive literary talent?  Some would say his talent really sprung from an experience at Dartmouth College.  He was caught drinking with several classmates, and the Dean forced him to resign from extra-curricular activities.  This included editor-in-chief of the college literary magazine Dartmouth Jack-O-Lantern. So, not to be silenced, he wrote under the pen name “Seuss.”  Or should we say, the circumstances led the stones in his life, his many gifts and talents—to literally shout.  And he has been heard ever since with great joy by countless fans in every generation and age.  

Today is probably not your birthday.  Don't let that stop you from knowing what stories gave birth to who you really are?  And remember this.  You are still writing your life stories and there are experiences yet to come.  Ever see that bumper sticker:  "God isn't done with me yet!

Learning to be Fed

   Super-Size-Me-Spoon! 

Carolyn Chute tells the story, in The Beans of Egypt, Maine, of the depths of poverty in a backwoods town.  It could be anywhere in America.  She uses a metaphor for a meal in which they all might gather.  In the center, a pot of delicious stew steams for folks who have not eaten in days.  There are no utensils, but a very large spoon in the center of the table.  Everyone starves.  Nobody can feed themselves. They can’t see that they have to feed others, so that in turn, they too will be fed.  For Chute, real poverty may begin without food, but there are other deep hungers for self-esteem, spirit, and the soul.  It something we learn to give for others and then receive in return.

Erich Fromm, in The Art of Loving, reverses much popular psychology, the “take care of yourself first” self-help. The very act of reaching out to others is “love,” for Fromm, which in turn is a love created in us. Only by reaching out to others, do we find lives reaching back to us.  The Hebrew Scriptures give us the Golden Rule, while Christians know Jesus’ words by heart:  “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”   

It all says—pick up the spoon and feed others. Until you do that, take that risk of life, you will never know what it means for you.  The problem is not the size of the spoon—but the heart, the will that reaches out to others. The option is to sit at the table with the Beans and starve.

… whatever a man has in superabundance is owed, of natural right, to the poor for their sustenance. So Ambrose says, "The bread which you withhold belongs to the hungry: the clothing you shut away, to the naked: and the money you bury in the earth is the redemption and freedom of the penniless."

                                                       Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, II-II, Q 66 A 7.

Bridge Building

                                 Dwight & Dwayne Lewis

                                                         Southport Bridge Tenders

                                                           Boothbay Harbor, Maine

What do you call a set of twin brothers who took on their father's legacy as the bridge tender after his 40+ year career?  Whatever--you will never imitate their Maine accent which is a thick cup of coffee for anyone.  They completed 43 years last fall, and after plans to retire, they stuck with it.  The bridge does more than connect Boothbay Harbor with Southport Island.  The Lewis boys like to say that "they open the way for the boats to navigate up the Townsend Gut (or river)."  One way or another--they open the way for people.  They are living bridge builders.  Many cars stop on the bridge and the news from in-town or up-river is shared.  They are more than familiar faces.  They embody the can-do Yankee spirit which forges a way in any climate or condition--and that includes people!  They tell the story of the woman who ran off the side of the road and into the water. When they pulled her out, she cussed them out because the bridge was too small for her to see at night. Dwayne still took her flowers in the hospital.

When the town council wanted to rename the bridge--The Lewis Bridge--the brothers refused, not so much from humility, but because they said the bridge belonged to everyone.  They were there to make it work for everyone.  So not to be deterred, the council did find another way to honor them by starting with their father--and this plaque, the brothers gratefully accepted.

Hummingbird Wisdom

Winged Jewel

With wings spun of silver and hearts of gold,
These tiny creatures our hearts behold.
With angelic features and colors so bright,
Make even the heaviest heart seem light.
The magical way they flit through the sky,
They appear, then vanish in the blink of an eye.
They're sending a message for us to retrieve,
Anything's possible for those who believe!
  Written by: Christopher Griffiths

Amazing gifts of God!  The basic facts about hummingbirds are remarkable: about 330 species, 3-5inches, wings beating 12-80 times per second, and they travel up to 34mph. However, I was most impressed by what I saw after hours of just watching them (and trying to take pictures!). 

A flock of 6-8 would suddenly arrive, eat one by one, and then vanish all at once. It was as if they were wired, a button was pushed, to make them come and go on cue.  How do they communicate cues for this stage show?  

Then I thought of the mayhem of people who try to create and live in community. Even between those from the same culture, communication is a thread that unravels relationships.  How does that phrase go--"What we have here is the failure to communicate!"   

The fact is that we are not wired like hummingbirds.  There is nothing more complex than communicating with each other. When we think about how we ourselves get messages, it won't surprise us to learn that 10% is literal word, 35% is tone, and 55% is body language.  Is it little wonder that social scientists are learning that the digital age increases the transmission of words while decreasing the effectiveness of communication?  The fallout has been a generation linked in cyberspace, but not in  relationships that communicate with words.  

We don't have to say that "communication is for the birds."  We can learn from the hummingbird how everyone benefits in community by communication.  The hummingbird knows it takes work, and that everyone is fed.  

 

Aurora Shooting Speaks

Bury My Heart in Aurora

It used to be Wounded Knee, the place of massacre.  Then it was Columbine.  Certainly the World Trade Center.  Intentional slaughter.  Man’s inhumanity to Man.  Strange how that question has been turned back on God with the title of a bestseller—Why do bad things happen to good people? 

Let’s be very clear.  For us, this is a question.  For those who lost loved ones, it is sheer agony and heartbreak. I want to approach the question so we can frame a response, perhaps pray for a different world. 

Rabbi Kushner, in his book--When Bad Things Happen to Good People,  told the heart rending story of his son dying prematurely frompregoria—where you age years in months. Why would God allow this to happen?  Kushner really depicts the problem well.  His answer does not work for me.  God is not perfect, evolves, and we need to forgive God.  

The shooting in Aurora is different.  The slaughter of people by people.  We can say that we have free will, and for it to be really free and not automatons, God must allow free action.  The problem is that if God is all powerful, why does he limit his power to grant us freedom?  

The Book of Job answers all of the above by saying that Job as the creation cannot know the reasons of the Creator.  Jesus himself died the innocent man with no explanation from God.  The example he gives is to be the “sons and daughters of God” and let God be our Father.  Live into that relationship. 

Out of that relationship as sons and daughters of God emerges a far greater mystery than why bad things happen to good people.  The mystery is that in a world where all things can go wrong, when they do, very good people do very good things that transform tragedy.  Don’ get me wrong.  That’s not rationalization.  The Cross is still the Cross.  But if we ask the theological question, the answer needs to be one of faith.  We are led by good people with good actions beyond the cross.  We see resurrection before we literally die. 

I like the following poem from the middle of the 19^th c. It gets across the reality of living in a relationship with God and shaping our expectations.  

God hath not promised Skies always blue, Flower-strewn pathways All our lives through; God hath not promised Sun without rain, Joy without sorrow, Peace without pain. But God hath promised Strength for the day, Rest for the labour, Light for the way, Grace for the trials, Help from above, Unfailing sympathy, Undying love. Annie Johnson Flint, 1866-1932 American Teacher and Poet

Is it up to us to be God’s heart and hands in the world that can go wrong?  Maybe we have  already been blessed to receive some of the  the gifts listed above.  They always come through other people. Maybe we cannot change the world. But I promise you that your hands can give God's blessings in your world wherever that may be. 

That Inner Strength

                                                             That Inner Strength

The old saying, "what does not break you, makes you" could be true.  But there's a problem with it.  It conjures up the picture of just holding out instead of the power of purpose that grows and surmounts the threat. It feels like a dam holding back flood waters until it finally gives way.  What we seek is an inner resolve that grows out of adversity instead of just outlasting it. 

I loved the movie "Men of Honor" with Robert De Niro and Cuba Gooding, Jr--both put on spectacular performances. De Niro as the Master Diver (Billy Sunday) and racist determined to run Gooding (Brashear) the Black Man out of the service. Neither seems willing to give up. In the struggle, Gooding increases strength as racial attacks mount. It is more than stubbornness not to give up.  It is inner strength of conviction for right principles. By the time the movie ends, DiNiro is right in his camp, transformed by the strength of conviction that the inner man he has persecuted has a purpose which he too gives his career for.

The story also happens to be true.  What's the truth about you?  How has your life's journey, the very times when the winds blew worst, showed you your inner resolve and made it happen?

See if the poem, "The Oak Tree" gets this message across for you.

The Oak Tree   by Johnny Ray Ryder Jr  

A mighty wind blew night and day It stole the oak tree's leaves away Then snapped its boughs and pulled its bark Until the oak was tired and stark But still the oak tree held its ground While other trees fell all around The weary wind gave up and spoke. How can you still be standing Oak? The oak tree said, I know that you Can break each branch of mine in two Carry every leaf away Shake my limbs, and make me sway But I have roots stretched in the earth Growing stronger since my birth You'll never touch them, for you see They are the deepest part of me Until today, I wasn't sure Of just how much I could endure But now I've found, with thanks to you I'm stronger than I ever knew.

Efficient or Effective?

Efficient or Effective? 

The passing of Stephen R. Covey the other day leaves us with the question about how we are “passing away” our own lives.  For years in business, the rage was time management.  Oh the seminars, the tools, the advice that had this one message—control your time and you get what you want.  Nobody asked the question—What do you want to control your time for?  Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective People answered that question.  Manage your time to be effective—meaningful action to contribute significantly.  The maxims are:

1. Be proactive,
2. Begin with the end in mind.
3. Put first things first.
4. Think win/win.
5. Seek first to understand, then to be understood.
6. Synergize
7. Sharpen the saw (Ben Franklin)—improve always. 

 My favorite Covey book is The Speed of Trust.  Although written after 7 Habits, the basic premise of trust precedes everything we do. My experience teaches me that the "habits" only become a part of our lives as we grow to trust ourselves.

Covey grew up on crutches when a bone disease weakened his femurs. He had to look for meaningful ways to contribute, which perhaps led to a book about being effective. You have to make that choice every time you cross the room on crutches.  Be proactive. Find the nerve ending for what you seek. Push on it. And then get better at knowing which nerves to push.  Make it a habit in your life,

Sum them all up?  Maybe…look for the nerve ending which you can pressure to fire up the passion of life.  All of us know two experiences.  The first is exhaustion from work. (We are absolutely worn out; steel on steel with our brakes.) The second is the work of exhaustion which feels fulfilling.  (You are tired from doing a meaningful work that leaves you feeling better than when you started.)  

Example?  From Covey, “don’t kill the golden goose.”  How often do we overwork at what we like to do and kill the experience itself?  Being “effective” is meaningful and contributes.  It is not mindless repetition, even of something you like to do. 

  

Living with Arms Wide Open

Have you ever heard of Charles St. Bernard?  The parents of a three year old daughter certainly do and won't forget him as he dashed over to the window just in time to catch her falling 3 floors from their apartment.  She escaped injury; he tore his shoulder.  We all learn the lesson that by going through life with "arms wide open," we are prepared to embrace and be embraced--in our joys, sorrows and every need.  We are made to hold each others' lives.  Look at the picture above.  The man lives with open arms.  The embrace will form his life to do the same.

Imagine going through life with a clenched fist?  You cannot grasp anything. A chief function of the human body is the use of the hand and its opposing thumb.  It's virtually useless as a fist.  Of course--we don't have to imagine the use of a fist.  Just keep in mind that when we hit or use force, there is an opposing reaction in us.  Fists speak the language of anger--and it eats us up more than others.  (image belowCopyright: Dmitriy Shironosov)  

 Plato had this to say about anger: 

There are two things a person should never be angry about:
what they can help, and what they cannot.

But...

How do we transform our lives from fists into open arms?  We are quite human and do have that instinct for fight or flight--both of which equally close us off to others.  I respect the saying from Hawthorne that we become what we worship.  (Today, we love to say, "we are what we eat!)  I wonder if arms outreached to the heavens to worship the heaven's Creator are prepared to live with open arms for others?  Perhaps when we lift our arms to the heavens to praise the Creator, we have to let go of whatever we are holding onto---everything. 

Truly Alive

The fact that we are alive is truly a miracle. 

We could say there is nothing special about it,

but when we are deeply aware of being alive

in this moment, we see how wonderful it is. 

                                                    Thich Nhat Hahn, Buddhist Monk

The writings of Thich Nhat Hahn move people deeply. For some, he reaches inside and plays grace-filled tunes of the heart.  For others, the platitudes of words are heard in the head alone.  How do you take something like the fact of being “truly alive” and know it yourself?  How does it go from mere description “about something,” a good thought, to true reality experienced first hand? 

 

July’s Jubilation

July 24, 2009

The butterfly spread its body,

over the beauty of the flowers,

And with each wave of the wings,

Lifted it to higher light and wonder,

For words spoken and accepted,

On bended knee to open hearts,

Far away at Jockeys Ridge Park,

Where two lives took flight for life.

How do we take something from the head to the heart? 

Let me offer this direction. We all have those moments when we do find ourselves strangely intensely aware that we are alive.  One of those moments for me was my son’s proposal a few years ago.  Of course, my wife and I were at home knowing all of this was about to happen.  I took a picture of a tiger swallow tail butterfly which came together in a poem I wrote for the couple. Why stop there?  You don’t have to duplicate that experience to live in the fullness of the moment.  The one experience can open the door to a world in which creation is present to us every moment.  The proposal is not the exception.  It is the invitation for union with the world in which you are truly alive.  

Or….

Get a chair.

Sit outside.

Find something.  Anything.

Really see it!  

Be with it.

Feel your heartbeat.

Listen to your breath.

You’ll never have that moment again.

Give thanks always.  

Accept the proposal to accept the invitation again. 

Healing Tear Drops

Droplet

A drop of water, is that all it was…

hanging before me,

glistening in the sun?

Or, eternity, life in a simple droplet,

capturing the sun, from

where life had begun?

Perhaps it only matters, when

the droplet becomes a tear,

from a tear in the soul,

the opening, where

life begins again.

The mystery of grief was recognized by Isaiah when writing, "by his wounds, we are healed." (Isa 53:5)  The places where we are wounded can be the very sources for healing. Just as the body has its healing power, so too does the psyche and spirit if we let it. The problem is that we believe that our bodies can heal, but do not recognize that given the chance, so too can the psyche and spirit.  Henri Nouwen coined the phrase, the wounded healer, in a book by that title.  We can help others to heal by sharing our wounds, and as we do, says Nouwen, we are healed as well. 

Waves of Words

Pemaquid Point Surf, Maine

Waves wash over me, and most of the time, I never get wet. I breathe the surf in and the currents electrify every nerve.  That experience evokes poetry, that gracious opening into what happened, retold to see it with fresh eyes.  

Waves of Words

The words wash ashore like waves,

That swell from far away and come,

From the rhythm of calms and storms,

The ebbing and flowing between tides,

Of images that rise to the surface,

And roll the words into something,

Never recognized until this arrival,

On my shore…

                                      With the gift of poetry,

that gathers what I used to just cast off,

in what looked like flotsam and jetsam,

of years drifting by meaninglessly—

until poems washed over me with riches

for a life of sea changes that bring me,

back to the beaches to find myself anew,

                    delighted from what the sea gives back. 

Living Landmarks

The Big Chicken

Marietta, Georgia

Seeing is believing in “The Big Chicken” northwest of Atlanta.  Or, should I say: “First you don’t believe what others tell you about it.  Then you see it and don’t believe what you tell yourself!”  It’s seven stories high and has moving eyes and beak. It was originally a locally owned establishment called— Johnny Reb’s Chick-Chuck-’N'-Shake. It was sold to the Kentucky Fried Chicken Corporation a few years after it was built.  In 1993, it was severely damaged by a storm, and after threats to tear it down, the public petitioned KFC to rebuild it exactly as it was—eyes and beak still moving.  

For local folk, it’s a part of who they are, the landmark that always reminds them where they are. Ask for directions, and you will here, “go to the Big Chicken and….”  I’ve had Delta pilots swear that they know their Atlanta approach by spotting it.  No, it may not be our hometown, but the Big Chicken says a lot about the importance of landmarks and signposts for us.  CS Lewis put it this way: 

When we are lost in the woods the site of the signpost is a great matter. He who first sees it cries, ‘Look!’ The whole party gathers around and stares. But when we have found the road and are passing signposts every few miles, we shall not stop and stare. They will encourage us and we shall be grateful to the authority that set them up. But we shall not stop and stare, or not much; not on this road, though their pillars are of silver and their lettering of gold. ‘We would be at Jerusalem.’ ²⁶

                                            ^{C.S Lewis}

                                                       ^{(Few people recall that he died on November 22, 1963)} 

Goodness of Grief

  Killer Bees or Honey Bees? 

 Bees

Sometimes it hurts…really hurts,

the grief that swarms like killer bees,

the winged warriors bred for torment,

without mercy, to sting long after

their victim dies, the harrowing of hell,

this daily dying after the death, with

wounds that keep wounding, and pain

that blinds the eye for seeing within,

the invisible work of hidden healing,

over time, that these were really honey bees,

to prepare the soul like a hive with combs,

to hold the hurt and transform the grief,

like the flower’s loss of nectar gathered

for honey, but of deeper promise,

              the new life I could not see coming,

              and have just now begun to taste.

All In Your Hands

                                        You've Got The Whole Earth---
                                            In Your Hands!

I know that camp fire song all too good and well--"He's got the whole earth in his hands."  I was quite, however, by Henry David Thoreau's book, The Maine Woods, in which he is quite insightful.  Any particular part of that woods, for him, held up the universal earth.  

 “Nature was here something savage and awful, though beautiful. I looked with awe at the ground I trod on, to see what the Powers had made there, the form and fashion and material of their work. This was that Earth of which we have heard, made out of Chaos and Old Night. Here was no man's garden, but the globe. It was not lawn, nor pasture, nor mead, nor woodland, nor lea, nor arable, nor waste-land. It was the fresh and natural surface of the planet Earth, as it was made forever and ever.”

I wonder what inspired Thoreau's insight.  From reading the book, I came away with his power of attention to detail and concentration to hold up that image before him.  He might say that at any minute, our attention to the particular, concentrating on details, opens the door to the universal.   I believe that William Blake opened that door when he wrote Auguries of Innocence:  

 

"To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour." 

The question for us is this.  Will we ever take a walk in the woods again and be the same? 

It is in your hands!

Love Redefined

Who Do You Know Named "Molly?" 

Photograph © Pam Kaster

(photo and full text, “Meet Molly”

from www.snopes.com/photos/animals.asp)

 

Few of us will forget the dramatic attempt to rescue “Barbaro,” the Kentucky Derby winner after he pulled up in the Preakness with a strained leg. The horse gained world-wide fame in losing his life. Nothing could be done.  Yet, here is the story of Molly who survived after Katrina and a vicious dog attack.  

The real story for me is the owners and the vets who have this spark of life in them that will not “give up” on life itself.  They refused to let the fires of life go out.  Deep down in all of us is this instinct for life. It goes far beyond our own instinct for survival.  It gives life, that spark and will to live to others.  Molly’s hallmark did not stop at her restoration. She went to Children’s hospitals as a living sign of hope.  

In The Road Less Travelled, M. Scott Peck writes that:

“Love is the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth... Love is as love does. Love is an act of will -- namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love.”

 

It was one thing for these owners and vets to feel sorry for Molly and quite another to act on those feelings to give life.  Molly can be the name for anyone! 

The Wisdowm of Waves

 

The Same Wave--In Three Phases

Ocean Point, Maine

East Boothbay Harbor Peninsula

The real journey of the wave begins far out as water rushes over a shallow ledge underneath the water and then gathers momentum as it rises to its plume, the crest of the wave (first picture) before crashing over the rocks.  Its spectacular to watch! Most people miss the most important stage.  The wave comes to a tranquil end, almost resting up against the shoreline.  Sooner or later,a the wave flattens out, looses forward moving momentum--comes to a rest....provided it has adequate space to run its full course. 

How many of us allow our lives to come to a full rest and recovery?  How many of us dive in impulsively when the energy can carry us in all directions or even--metaphorically--smash us upon rocks in circumstances beyond our control?  Sometimes the wisdom is to let the waves in life run their course and come to a rest.  

The Fifth Season

The Lodge in Rural Virginia

I am blessed by two friends who own this private get-away home which they call "The Lodge." It sits on about 28 acres, filled with nature on rolling hills.  The Appalachian Trail is right over the hill. Fort years, I went there with my black Lab companion.  She let me see through her eyes and hear through her senses. Best of all--I breathed in her excitement and passion for the world. I recall her chasing turkeys and standing stone still on the porch watching a raccoon make its way across the ice below. I lost her at age 9 from cancer.  One of our last days was spent at the Lodge, and I like to remember her cavorting over those hills with nose to the ground.  That's what she left me.  A fifth season of grief that colors all the other seasons, but now blooms in memory--and a new companion named Izzie the rescue Lab who came because we lost "B." 

The Fifth Season

The Lodge looks over the valley,

Of the fifth season, when the world

Grays grief and flows with tears,

As I leave the Annabelle years behind.

Her leash broken but tethered to memory,

Of the place we found together, alone

In the peace of the wild world where

Old Blackjack bear roams and black

Berries bake in the sun for snacks,

Along the trail far from the maddening

Years where nothing was needed but

The companion who walked me,

Regardless—just regardless.  

"Annabelle," 2004