Yesterday was not a difficult work day but I felt exhausted all evening. I found my mind going in a variety of directions, none of them positive. I hope it was just my fatigue. I found myself thinking of a recent movie with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman called "The Bucket List". In the movie two terminally ill friends make a list of all the things they want to do before they die. I am not dying anymore than the rest of human race and I do not have a bucket list. I do sometimes have a list that changes all the time that lists things I would like to stop doing before I die. Sometimes as one gets older you feel like your life is spent doing the same routine and obligatory things all the time. On a good day it's called faithfulness. On a bad day it's called boredom. I think yesterday was an exhausting day, not because I worked really hard...I didn't...but because most of the day I was lost in myself and was being somewhat self absorbed. When I think about myself too much, it can be depressing. The mind has a natural tendency to be negative and to focus on what it perceived to be missing. It takes an intentional mental effort to focus on the positive. Occasionally, this is a challenge for me. Most of the time my mood is good but like the weather it can change quickly and without warning. Like a weatherman I cannot always predict the coming mood or how long it will stay. My comfort is that moods are like weather. They will change and a stormy day can become a sunny day just as easily as the reverse can happen.
Last night in my exhaustion I seriously considered discontinuing my daily thoughts. They've become a real struggle lately. I feel unmotivated, empty, and sometimes a little stressed about the pressure I put on myself to write them. The thoughts you are reading now are being written at 11:00 PM at night. I've been feeling like I am not saying much of value to anyone. Maybe I need a vacation from them (along with many other things). However, earlier in the evening I read the following thought by Henri Nouwen, a famous spiritual author who had many of his own demons.
One of the arguments we often use for not writing is this: "I have nothing original to say. Whatever I might say, someone else has already said it, and better than I will ever be able to." This, however, is not a good argument for not writing. Each human person is unique and original, and nobody has lived what we have lived. Furthermore, what we have lived, we have lived not just for ourselves but for others as well. Writing can be a very creative and invigorating way to make our lives available to ourselves and to others. We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told. We may discover that the better we tell our stories the better we will want to live them.
Perhaps there is value to just tell it the way it is even if I am empty or having a bad day. Obviously, I cannot and will not share every thought and feeling. Some are simply too personal for public consumption. I will continue to write daily thoughts without personal judgement of their value. As long as people want to be kept on or added on my distribution list I guess they have value. I do, however, need to avoid putting off my writing until 11:00 at night! I'm really tired and need to go to bed.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Flow Of Life
The 8th verse of the Tao Te Ching speaks of water and living in the flow of life. Let me quote a few sentences from Wayne Dyer's commentary.
Think about the mysterious magical nature of this liquid energy that so many of us take for granted. Try to squeeze it and it eludes us; relax our hands into it and we experience it readily. If it stays stationary, it becomes stagnant; If it is allowed to flow it will remain pure. It does not seek the high spots to be above it all, but settles for the lowest places. It gathers into rivers, lakes and streams; courses to the sea; and then evaporates to fall again as rain.
How many of us live our lives in such a flowing and fluid way? How many of us are in tune with the natural flow of life? Flowing with life and allowing it to take you where it will is not the same thing as passivity and resignation. For me, this is more about letting go. Even though I am generally a laid back and easy going person, I have a tendency to fight life and to resist its flow. I often want to make my own path. I don't think that is always bad but sometimes all you do is knock down everything in your path. We've all witnessed the gentle flow of a stream and a few have experienced the frightening destruction of a raging river that has overflowed its banks and wreaked havoc on everything in its path. If one has patience, the gentle stream can be just as powerful as a raging river. Given enough time water wins over rock and can smooth the roughest exterior.
I am generally a patient man. Few things, however, try my patience like bumper to bumper traffic during rush hour when its raining. Last night was one of these nights. Then, when you think everyone can go no slower, the traffic breaks free and suddenly you can accelerate to normal highway speeds. This is all a mystery to me because many times when the moment of acceleration finally appears, there is no obvious reason why the traffic was moving so slow!
When I got home I had a package on my doorstep. I could feel my excitement as the evening commute faded into my lost memories. The box contained some CD's I had ordered. I tore open the packaging with excitement. Inside were three complete Grateful Dead concerts from one of their favorite venues and peak performance years in their long 30 year career. It is no secret that I am a Dead Head. The Grateful Dead are my favorite band. I love their music and saw them many times. I once joked that if I died and went to heaven and there was no music there I would have to leave. If it's true that our heaven begins on earth, then it is music that often opens the door for me. Music of one kind or another has been my constant companion since I was a boy. It comforts me and fills me with joy. It energizes me and makes my soul dance. It makes me happy when I am sad and often turns my happiness into pure joy. It is a friend when I am lonely and a gift that constantly reminds me that life is a celebration not an endurance test. Some of you are wondering, "All that from a Grateful Dead concert"? Yes, sometimes, but it could just as well be Beethoven, Mozart, or some Gregorian Chant. It could be Muddy Waters or Miles Davis. Music makes glad the heart of man. (So does wine.)
Here's a few thoughts on writing by Henri Nouwen that I found encouraging in my daily struggles writing these daily thoughts.
Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write.Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be "redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too.Writing is not just jotting down ideas. Often we say: "I don't know what to write. I have no thoughts worth writing down." But much good writing emerges from the process of writing itself. As we simply sit down in front of a sheet of paper and start to express in words what is on our minds or in our hearts, new ideas emerge, ideas that can surprise us and lead us to inner places we hardly knew were there.One of the most satisfying aspects of writing is that it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as for others to see.
Think about the mysterious magical nature of this liquid energy that so many of us take for granted. Try to squeeze it and it eludes us; relax our hands into it and we experience it readily. If it stays stationary, it becomes stagnant; If it is allowed to flow it will remain pure. It does not seek the high spots to be above it all, but settles for the lowest places. It gathers into rivers, lakes and streams; courses to the sea; and then evaporates to fall again as rain.
How many of us live our lives in such a flowing and fluid way? How many of us are in tune with the natural flow of life? Flowing with life and allowing it to take you where it will is not the same thing as passivity and resignation. For me, this is more about letting go. Even though I am generally a laid back and easy going person, I have a tendency to fight life and to resist its flow. I often want to make my own path. I don't think that is always bad but sometimes all you do is knock down everything in your path. We've all witnessed the gentle flow of a stream and a few have experienced the frightening destruction of a raging river that has overflowed its banks and wreaked havoc on everything in its path. If one has patience, the gentle stream can be just as powerful as a raging river. Given enough time water wins over rock and can smooth the roughest exterior.
I am generally a patient man. Few things, however, try my patience like bumper to bumper traffic during rush hour when its raining. Last night was one of these nights. Then, when you think everyone can go no slower, the traffic breaks free and suddenly you can accelerate to normal highway speeds. This is all a mystery to me because many times when the moment of acceleration finally appears, there is no obvious reason why the traffic was moving so slow!
When I got home I had a package on my doorstep. I could feel my excitement as the evening commute faded into my lost memories. The box contained some CD's I had ordered. I tore open the packaging with excitement. Inside were three complete Grateful Dead concerts from one of their favorite venues and peak performance years in their long 30 year career. It is no secret that I am a Dead Head. The Grateful Dead are my favorite band. I love their music and saw them many times. I once joked that if I died and went to heaven and there was no music there I would have to leave. If it's true that our heaven begins on earth, then it is music that often opens the door for me. Music of one kind or another has been my constant companion since I was a boy. It comforts me and fills me with joy. It energizes me and makes my soul dance. It makes me happy when I am sad and often turns my happiness into pure joy. It is a friend when I am lonely and a gift that constantly reminds me that life is a celebration not an endurance test. Some of you are wondering, "All that from a Grateful Dead concert"? Yes, sometimes, but it could just as well be Beethoven, Mozart, or some Gregorian Chant. It could be Muddy Waters or Miles Davis. Music makes glad the heart of man. (So does wine.)
Here's a few thoughts on writing by Henri Nouwen that I found encouraging in my daily struggles writing these daily thoughts.
Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write.Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be "redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too.Writing is not just jotting down ideas. Often we say: "I don't know what to write. I have no thoughts worth writing down." But much good writing emerges from the process of writing itself. As we simply sit down in front of a sheet of paper and start to express in words what is on our minds or in our hearts, new ideas emerge, ideas that can surprise us and lead us to inner places we hardly knew were there.One of the most satisfying aspects of writing is that it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as for others to see.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Being Right Or Being Happy
There is a certain kind of man who likes to get up on a Saturday morning and head for the Home Depot. As he crosses the threshold of the store a certain excitement builds within him. It is the store where dreams are made and a man can feel like a real man. I am not one of these men. When I go into a Home Depot I am as out of place as a bull in a china shop. Knowing this, my wife and son sent me there anyway for painting supplies and an extra gallon of paint. The two of them were painting a bedroom in my house. I am not as stupid about these manly things as I pretend to be but I am no Tim the Tool Man either. I got what was needed and headed to the checkout. There I encountered a store clerk who gave me some marriage advice. He said, "After 39 years of marriage I have learned that a man can be right or a man can be happy. I choose to be happy so I let her be right all the time". If only I could be so compliant.
I mostly hid out and stayed away from the work area on the 2nd floor of my home. All was quiet for me until Chloe and her mother showed up. Chloe and I went outside. Once I did that, there was no coming back in. She loves the outdoors. We found some worms. I always like to ask Chloe nonsensical questions to see what kind of answer she will give me. "Chloe, do worms fly"? "No Pa Paw! Only bees and butterflies and birds fly"! Chloe will be four years old in less than three months. She is as loving and sweet as she ever was but she is also becoming more and more independent with a mind of her own and either no ability or no willingness to negotiate anything. Dinner was chaotic as are all family dinners. Along with Chloe and her parents, we had my son Nick and a fellow seminarian with us. Nick came home again this weekend to register for summer school at a local college. I knew he was home when I walked in the house on Friday afternoon and saw the laundry basket of dirty clothes. By taking some classes this summer he can graduate early and avoid an extra year in Indianapolis. While going to school this summer he will also be living at local parish. I hope this parish agrees to feed him and that there is a washer and dryer there.
Sunday afternoon was spent visiting my mother, having coffee with a friend at a local Starbucks, and checking on my dad at the nursing home. I must be honest. I hate nursing homes. My father in law used to call them "warehouses for old people". Walking into the nursing home the hallways and community room are full of residents who seem to stare at me as I look for my father. Most of them are sitting in wheelchairs slumped over or staring into space. I speak to some of them and smile at others. There is usually no response. I find it sad and a little depressing. These folks were once young and healthy and vital. Some of them were pillars of their communities. They may have been professional people or business owners. Some perhaps were teachers and intellectuals. I think about all of this as I look for my father. I do not see him so I walk towards his room. He is in bed and sleeping. The oxygen machine hums by his bedside. I do not wake him. I simply sit in a chair by his bed and silently pray for him. Perhaps I should have awakened him but I didn't want to disturb him. I wondered how many hours a day this once very physically active man now sleeps. All his days must flow together. I looked at him and wondered what goes on in his mind everyday. I fear I will be in his place someday. I do not pray for his death. I pray for his life that he be physically comfortable and that his mind be at peace until his days in this life are over.
I mostly hid out and stayed away from the work area on the 2nd floor of my home. All was quiet for me until Chloe and her mother showed up. Chloe and I went outside. Once I did that, there was no coming back in. She loves the outdoors. We found some worms. I always like to ask Chloe nonsensical questions to see what kind of answer she will give me. "Chloe, do worms fly"? "No Pa Paw! Only bees and butterflies and birds fly"! Chloe will be four years old in less than three months. She is as loving and sweet as she ever was but she is also becoming more and more independent with a mind of her own and either no ability or no willingness to negotiate anything. Dinner was chaotic as are all family dinners. Along with Chloe and her parents, we had my son Nick and a fellow seminarian with us. Nick came home again this weekend to register for summer school at a local college. I knew he was home when I walked in the house on Friday afternoon and saw the laundry basket of dirty clothes. By taking some classes this summer he can graduate early and avoid an extra year in Indianapolis. While going to school this summer he will also be living at local parish. I hope this parish agrees to feed him and that there is a washer and dryer there.
Sunday afternoon was spent visiting my mother, having coffee with a friend at a local Starbucks, and checking on my dad at the nursing home. I must be honest. I hate nursing homes. My father in law used to call them "warehouses for old people". Walking into the nursing home the hallways and community room are full of residents who seem to stare at me as I look for my father. Most of them are sitting in wheelchairs slumped over or staring into space. I speak to some of them and smile at others. There is usually no response. I find it sad and a little depressing. These folks were once young and healthy and vital. Some of them were pillars of their communities. They may have been professional people or business owners. Some perhaps were teachers and intellectuals. I think about all of this as I look for my father. I do not see him so I walk towards his room. He is in bed and sleeping. The oxygen machine hums by his bedside. I do not wake him. I simply sit in a chair by his bed and silently pray for him. Perhaps I should have awakened him but I didn't want to disturb him. I wondered how many hours a day this once very physically active man now sleeps. All his days must flow together. I looked at him and wondered what goes on in his mind everyday. I fear I will be in his place someday. I do not pray for his death. I pray for his life that he be physically comfortable and that his mind be at peace until his days in this life are over.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Intentional Spiritual Journeys
It's a beautiful morning. As I was driving into work the sky was full of hot air balloons. How could that not be a sign that it will be a great day?
Yesterday I had to run home, well, actually I drove home, during the workday to take care of some personal business. On the way back to the office I had lunch with a friend that had been scheduled and re-scheduled about four times. Every time I thought I was available, eventually I had conflicts. My friend is a semi-retired Methodist minister and is part of the group I belong to at the monastery. In general this group is comprised of people who are similar to me. Well, they're not all aging hippies who still like rock and roll but they are people who are on intentional spiritual journeys. Those of you not on intentional spiritual journeys are on a spiritual journeys anyway whether you realize it or not. One of the things I like about this group is its diversity. There are men and women, young and old, gay and straight, Catholics, Baptists, Anglicans, Methodists, and maybe a few types I haven't identified yet. In spite of our differences, we have much in common. Think of the wheel metaphor I used earlier in the week. I feel like I am sharing the hub of the wheel with all of these people. All of them are, in my estimation, contemplatives. All contemplatives are not necessarily mystics but they are people trying to wake up to the spiritual realities within life. They have "normal" everyday lives in the world living in a variety of lifestyles and situations. All of them are on a spiritual quest in an exploration and immersion in the great spiritual mystery of God. The spiritual journey is more about jumping into the void of the great mystery of God and life than simply going through the motions of religious observance. Sometimes I am accused of being anti-religion. That is not true. What I do believe, however, is that the spiritual journey is much more than religious observance. Religious observance is a means to an end. It supports our journey and hopefully our experience. The experience itself is about mystery and darkness as well as enlightenment and insight to say nothing about transformation. Like caterpillars in our tightly spun cocoons, we must someday be transformed into butterflies. Who wants to be a caterpillar their whole life?
While I was home yesterday I read a reflection about happiness. Most of us know what makes us unhappy and we are often consumed with the parts or people in our lives who make us unhappy. The article I read encourages a slightly different approach to happiness. Who or what makes us happy? What parts of our lives give us the most joy? Keep in mind that happiness and joy are not necessarily the same as pleasure. Eating a great meal gives me pleasure at least until it affects my blood sugar and sends me off the charts. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle makes me happy and feeling good makes me joyful. Some people wear me out and other people make me happy. Having love in my life makes me joyful. Listening to music can do it all. It is pleasurable to my ears. It often makes my mood happy, and in special moments fills my heart and soul with joy. The bottom line of the article was that we should spend more time doing things and being with people that make us happy rather than in obsessing over what makes us unhappy.
Here's a Zen koan for you….
After you hear the music, where does it go?
Yesterday I had to run home, well, actually I drove home, during the workday to take care of some personal business. On the way back to the office I had lunch with a friend that had been scheduled and re-scheduled about four times. Every time I thought I was available, eventually I had conflicts. My friend is a semi-retired Methodist minister and is part of the group I belong to at the monastery. In general this group is comprised of people who are similar to me. Well, they're not all aging hippies who still like rock and roll but they are people who are on intentional spiritual journeys. Those of you not on intentional spiritual journeys are on a spiritual journeys anyway whether you realize it or not. One of the things I like about this group is its diversity. There are men and women, young and old, gay and straight, Catholics, Baptists, Anglicans, Methodists, and maybe a few types I haven't identified yet. In spite of our differences, we have much in common. Think of the wheel metaphor I used earlier in the week. I feel like I am sharing the hub of the wheel with all of these people. All of them are, in my estimation, contemplatives. All contemplatives are not necessarily mystics but they are people trying to wake up to the spiritual realities within life. They have "normal" everyday lives in the world living in a variety of lifestyles and situations. All of them are on a spiritual quest in an exploration and immersion in the great spiritual mystery of God. The spiritual journey is more about jumping into the void of the great mystery of God and life than simply going through the motions of religious observance. Sometimes I am accused of being anti-religion. That is not true. What I do believe, however, is that the spiritual journey is much more than religious observance. Religious observance is a means to an end. It supports our journey and hopefully our experience. The experience itself is about mystery and darkness as well as enlightenment and insight to say nothing about transformation. Like caterpillars in our tightly spun cocoons, we must someday be transformed into butterflies. Who wants to be a caterpillar their whole life?
While I was home yesterday I read a reflection about happiness. Most of us know what makes us unhappy and we are often consumed with the parts or people in our lives who make us unhappy. The article I read encourages a slightly different approach to happiness. Who or what makes us happy? What parts of our lives give us the most joy? Keep in mind that happiness and joy are not necessarily the same as pleasure. Eating a great meal gives me pleasure at least until it affects my blood sugar and sends me off the charts. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle makes me happy and feeling good makes me joyful. Some people wear me out and other people make me happy. Having love in my life makes me joyful. Listening to music can do it all. It is pleasurable to my ears. It often makes my mood happy, and in special moments fills my heart and soul with joy. The bottom line of the article was that we should spend more time doing things and being with people that make us happy rather than in obsessing over what makes us unhappy.
Here's a Zen koan for you….
After you hear the music, where does it go?
Thursday, April 24, 2008
More From The Past
I do not have any new thoughts today. No, my mind is not empty again. Last night much of the evening I was entertaining and serving the needs of Queen Chloe. I picked her up at the day-care after work. When her father arrived to pick her up he was in the mood to talk so he hung around for a while. By the time they left I was very tired. When I sat at my computer the system was slow and I had some difficulties logging on. It was late and I was not inspired. Today I must pull some things from the archives. We'll try again tomorrow for inspiration.
Do you ever drive yourself crazy? I know there are aspects of my personality that make other people like me but I also get on my own nerves sometimes. It’s mostly small stuff and nothing serious. Over the years I have studied a lot of psychology and read many books on personality types. I think I know myself too well. On the one hand I know myself well enough to understand why some people like me. On the other hand I also know myself well enough to see my more dysfunctional self coming from a mile away. The usual point of such self awareness is to keep that dysfunctional self from ever actually arriving. Sometimes I am successful and other times I am not. Of course, this dysfunctional self is like my twin brother. Others don’t always recognize him. The good news is that he’s not a bad fellow; he’s just not my best self. He’s the fellow that makes me say things I shouldn't’t say or do things I shouldn't’t do. He holds me back when I should be more proactive and he jumps ahead when I should be more patient. He’s not a bad person. He’s just annoying, at least to me and perhaps to others as well. Of course, for all I know there may even be people who prefer him to my “better” self. Who knows? Life is a mystery. Of course, I like my goofy Pa Paw persona. Chloe loves him.
One of my favorite musical groups is Jethro Tull. I have managed to see them three or four times over the years. I have always liked one of their more obscure songs entitled “Inside”, especially the following lyrics. The song is on an early album entitled “Benefit”.
I'm sitting on the corner feeling glad. Got no money coming in but I can't be sad. That was the best cup of coffee I ever had. And I won't worry about a thing because we've got it made, here on the inside, outside so far away.
At various times in my life I have found myself singing these words and then last night as I was hauling some tree limbs and other yard waste to the curb, a storm seemed to be blowing up as the darkness began to cover the land. It reminded me of other lyrics from the same song.
Take a walk in the park, does the wind in the dark sound like music to you? Well I'm thinking it does to me.
People like me live much of their intellectual and emotional life on the “Inside”. On the outside we can appear to be unemotional or even in a daze. However, I can assure you that there’s much more going on than appears. All of our senses are going strong and are observing and taking in everything around us. There is little that we do not notice and we are always processing all we take in. No, we are not aliens. We are introverts.
People have occasionally asked me how they can be like me. Well, we are all unique so you can’t be exactly like me. To be honest, I am not even sure how I became me! You can learn to be more observant and aware. Pay attention to the moment. Drink the coffee, taste the coffee, enjoy the coffee! Notice the wind. Feel the wind. Hear the wind singing! Experience the poetry of life! Zen is life lived in awareness.
Here’s a Zen poem.
Outwardly go along With the flow,
while inwardly keeping your true nature.
Then your eyes and ears will not be dazzled,
your thoughts will not be confused,
while the spirit within you will expand greatly to roam in the realm of absolute purity.
- Huai-nan-tzu
Do you ever drive yourself crazy? I know there are aspects of my personality that make other people like me but I also get on my own nerves sometimes. It’s mostly small stuff and nothing serious. Over the years I have studied a lot of psychology and read many books on personality types. I think I know myself too well. On the one hand I know myself well enough to understand why some people like me. On the other hand I also know myself well enough to see my more dysfunctional self coming from a mile away. The usual point of such self awareness is to keep that dysfunctional self from ever actually arriving. Sometimes I am successful and other times I am not. Of course, this dysfunctional self is like my twin brother. Others don’t always recognize him. The good news is that he’s not a bad fellow; he’s just not my best self. He’s the fellow that makes me say things I shouldn't’t say or do things I shouldn't’t do. He holds me back when I should be more proactive and he jumps ahead when I should be more patient. He’s not a bad person. He’s just annoying, at least to me and perhaps to others as well. Of course, for all I know there may even be people who prefer him to my “better” self. Who knows? Life is a mystery. Of course, I like my goofy Pa Paw persona. Chloe loves him.
One of my favorite musical groups is Jethro Tull. I have managed to see them three or four times over the years. I have always liked one of their more obscure songs entitled “Inside”, especially the following lyrics. The song is on an early album entitled “Benefit”.
I'm sitting on the corner feeling glad. Got no money coming in but I can't be sad. That was the best cup of coffee I ever had. And I won't worry about a thing because we've got it made, here on the inside, outside so far away.
At various times in my life I have found myself singing these words and then last night as I was hauling some tree limbs and other yard waste to the curb, a storm seemed to be blowing up as the darkness began to cover the land. It reminded me of other lyrics from the same song.
Take a walk in the park, does the wind in the dark sound like music to you? Well I'm thinking it does to me.
People like me live much of their intellectual and emotional life on the “Inside”. On the outside we can appear to be unemotional or even in a daze. However, I can assure you that there’s much more going on than appears. All of our senses are going strong and are observing and taking in everything around us. There is little that we do not notice and we are always processing all we take in. No, we are not aliens. We are introverts.
People have occasionally asked me how they can be like me. Well, we are all unique so you can’t be exactly like me. To be honest, I am not even sure how I became me! You can learn to be more observant and aware. Pay attention to the moment. Drink the coffee, taste the coffee, enjoy the coffee! Notice the wind. Feel the wind. Hear the wind singing! Experience the poetry of life! Zen is life lived in awareness.
Here’s a Zen poem.
Outwardly go along With the flow,
while inwardly keeping your true nature.
Then your eyes and ears will not be dazzled,
your thoughts will not be confused,
while the spirit within you will expand greatly to roam in the realm of absolute purity.
- Huai-nan-tzu
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The Different Times Of The Day
In many ways I enjoy all the different times of the day but I especially enjoy mornings and evenings. I often lament about getting out of bed but once my feet are on the floor, the sleepiness washed from my eyes, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee floating through the house, I feel good. It's a kind of spiritual awakening to go out my front door and to the end of my driveway to get the morning paper. These days the neighborhood is bathed in a soft light as the sun begins to rise and the air is fresh. It smells like spring and I breathe the new life deeply into my lungs. When I return to my house I enjoy twenty of the best minutes of my day. I sit quietly in my chair and read a few thoughts from the Tao Te Ching or some other spiritual book. I ponder its meaning as I sip my coffee. It is a moment of total peace. Afterwards I leave home and jump into the morning commute. It has a whole different feel from the evening commute. I am fresh, my mind is clear, and I am calm. Little can disturb me. Once at work I do whatever the day demands. After my workday is over, I face the evening commute. It always seems more intense than the morning commute. Everyone is tired, some nerves are frayed, and people are anxious to retreat into their homes. It's the same distance but feels twice as long. If you add the element of a late afternoon rain storm you have the feeling that every human being that owns a car is out on the road driving it. Most days all of us make it home safely if a bit frazzled. There is little in life that feels as good as crossing the threshold of your own home after a day of fighting dragons. The sun begins it's nightly retreat and the air cools. Last night after bathing, I sat in my chair again and read the morning paper. Soon I fell into a gentle sleep as the aroma of freshly mowed lawns blew in my window. Later in the evening as the day was nearly complete, the sweetness of my neighbor's honeysuckle bushes filled the air. My day that seemed to begin so many hours ago was drawing to a close. I returned to the bed that I had slowly left after my alarm clock awakened me. I don't usually look forward to the rude awakening I expect on work days but I do enjoy reliving each day the simple joys and feelings attached to the different times of the day. All is good.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Bored With My Own Thoughts
I've been rather bored with my daily thoughts lately. Most nights my mind seems empty. I wonder why anyone would want to hear about my day to day experiences especially if a story is not followed by some kind of insight or meditation about life. Most days I feel like I have shared all I have to share. As the saying goes, "There is nothing new under the sun". My thoughts are the product of every experience I've had, every book I've read, every moment of silence where I sat waiting for a word, and every daydream where I have allowed my mind to float. Lately I have felt very busy, whether it is real or imagined, and the silence of my daydreams and mind excursions often turns to sleep. In other words I often live like many other people. I sleepwalk through the demands of my life. As long as I keep moving I am fine. If I stop, I crash and burn. Still, I continue the journey where my soul never rests and I search through my inner landscape. I am not lost and it is more than wandering. It's a kind of inner exploration. I guess these days I feel like I am seeing a lot of the same scenery and I can't think of new ways to describe it to others.
I have actually tried to listen to the Pope's messages to America and to Catholics in particular. There is a type of Catholic of which the Pope is critical and I think I am one of them. He speaks of the individualistic Catholic who is more focused on a private spirituality than a community experience. He further speaks of a buffet style approach to faith in which one chooses only those beliefs one finds appealing while bypassing the rest. I am guilty as charged. My journey seems more solitary and my faith walk is often down a dark path. I was raised a Catholic in a very different time when there were few choices and everything was black or white. There was little gray area. I would not call myself a "Doubting Thomas" so much as I would consider myself someone who is continuously questioning the teachings, dogmas, and doctrines of the Church against my actual experience. I think the Buddha, who is not Catholic or Christian, has a sound teaching when he says, "Believe what you experience". If you have never experienced love, it is difficult to believe in it. If you have never had an experience of God that you knew without a doubt was an experience of God, it makes believing in God a challenge at times. I do sometimes wonder if there is truly a God and, if so, have I ever had an experience of this God? That may seem scandalous to some of you. However, I believe that doubt is a healthy part of the spiritual journey. I believe but I am not always sure who I believe in and what I believe about them. Sometimes I think the way I live is more Buddhist than Christian. The way of kindness and compassion, without all the theological conundrums and Catholic guilt that so many of my generation seems to have inherited, is very appealing to me. I simply try to live a good life and to be a loving person. I am also a contemplative person. If the life of faith and belief can be compared to a wheel, the way of contemplation is the hub of the wheel. It is in the contemplative space, the hub, where people of all faiths and traditions are closest together. In the contemplative space is unity. The further you go from the hub, the further apart you become from everyone else. It is out on the wheel that we often only see our differences. I seek to live with kindness and compassion in unity with others through the contemplative experience.
Summer is near and the time is right for dancing in the street. Well, I am not a great dancer but summer is also the time for outdoor concerts and road trips. I have a couple already on my schedule and several more being planned. My friends and I joke about being road warriors. Last summer, in a playful mood, I wrote the following definition of a road warrior. It is dedicated to my traveling companions. One of them actually printed it up and framed it. It now sits on a shelf in my music room.
Road Warrior i.e. noun
An aging and nearly extinct creature who spends all available time and resources searching for the lost chord. These strange and exotic creatures have been known to spend their last dime in pursuit of the chills and emotional satisfaction generated by extended guitar solos, meaningful lyrics, and being with others of their kind. Often misunderstood, they are kind and gentle creatures who enjoy simple pleasures like sitting in their lawn chairs on a summer night while good vibrations fill the space around them. They have even been known to take off their shoes and share a blanket. In the summer months they are often seen in sandals, short pants, and faded rock and roll tee shirts. They have been known to drink the occasional beer. These creatures are free spirits and should not be disturbed when dancing or while lost in the groove.
I have actually tried to listen to the Pope's messages to America and to Catholics in particular. There is a type of Catholic of which the Pope is critical and I think I am one of them. He speaks of the individualistic Catholic who is more focused on a private spirituality than a community experience. He further speaks of a buffet style approach to faith in which one chooses only those beliefs one finds appealing while bypassing the rest. I am guilty as charged. My journey seems more solitary and my faith walk is often down a dark path. I was raised a Catholic in a very different time when there were few choices and everything was black or white. There was little gray area. I would not call myself a "Doubting Thomas" so much as I would consider myself someone who is continuously questioning the teachings, dogmas, and doctrines of the Church against my actual experience. I think the Buddha, who is not Catholic or Christian, has a sound teaching when he says, "Believe what you experience". If you have never experienced love, it is difficult to believe in it. If you have never had an experience of God that you knew without a doubt was an experience of God, it makes believing in God a challenge at times. I do sometimes wonder if there is truly a God and, if so, have I ever had an experience of this God? That may seem scandalous to some of you. However, I believe that doubt is a healthy part of the spiritual journey. I believe but I am not always sure who I believe in and what I believe about them. Sometimes I think the way I live is more Buddhist than Christian. The way of kindness and compassion, without all the theological conundrums and Catholic guilt that so many of my generation seems to have inherited, is very appealing to me. I simply try to live a good life and to be a loving person. I am also a contemplative person. If the life of faith and belief can be compared to a wheel, the way of contemplation is the hub of the wheel. It is in the contemplative space, the hub, where people of all faiths and traditions are closest together. In the contemplative space is unity. The further you go from the hub, the further apart you become from everyone else. It is out on the wheel that we often only see our differences. I seek to live with kindness and compassion in unity with others through the contemplative experience.
Summer is near and the time is right for dancing in the street. Well, I am not a great dancer but summer is also the time for outdoor concerts and road trips. I have a couple already on my schedule and several more being planned. My friends and I joke about being road warriors. Last summer, in a playful mood, I wrote the following definition of a road warrior. It is dedicated to my traveling companions. One of them actually printed it up and framed it. It now sits on a shelf in my music room.
Road Warrior i.e. noun
An aging and nearly extinct creature who spends all available time and resources searching for the lost chord. These strange and exotic creatures have been known to spend their last dime in pursuit of the chills and emotional satisfaction generated by extended guitar solos, meaningful lyrics, and being with others of their kind. Often misunderstood, they are kind and gentle creatures who enjoy simple pleasures like sitting in their lawn chairs on a summer night while good vibrations fill the space around them. They have even been known to take off their shoes and share a blanket. In the summer months they are often seen in sandals, short pants, and faded rock and roll tee shirts. They have been known to drink the occasional beer. These creatures are free spirits and should not be disturbed when dancing or while lost in the groove.
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