Being in the world

More than the Frame…

Walking along a path in a local town forest, I stop as I approach a swampy stretch and see a beautiful mix of colors on the land across the way. The trees and brush on either side in front of me seem to provide a frame. Depending on the angle, or perhaps the time of day, or maybe even, the mood drifting through the air, they are a welcome addition gradually drawing me in to the beauty just beyond. Or, are they a distraction… a tangled mess standing in the way?

It’s interesting the way that so much in life seems to do with frames. Thinking literally of frames, I recall the first time I had to pick a frame for a pair of eyeglasses. I was 12 at the time, and desperately not wanting to need eyeglasses. But the fact was that I did need them.

So, after an eye exam and trying on a number of frames, different styles, colors, and types, I came upon “the one.” It was unmistakable within seconds of placing them on my face. From there, the transition was smooth; I could see clearly. Since that time, I have gone through a number of frames, of different styles, colors, and types, throughout the years. And, in all that time, the single most important thing about my glasses has been, not the frame, but the lenses. Without them, everything is blurry.

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees,
they gathered together, and one of them,
a scholar of the law tested him by asking,
“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
He said to him,
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your soul,
and with all your mind.
This is the greatest and the first commandment.
The second is like it:
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”

– Matthew 22:34-40

Act Naturally…

John Muir shared the thought that in every walk with nature, one receives far more than one seeks. Pausing to look at some of the changing leaves and noticing the contrast between them and those already on the ground, I came across another scene. A chipmunk, also pausing, long enough to possibly be considered a companion in an otherwise seemingly empty stretch of woods. A brief, but amusing and uplifting experience, perhaps captured best, for both creatures on this day, in the words of another naturalist, Henry David Thoreau, who wrote, “I took a walk in the woods and came out taller than the trees.”   

Reading chapter 22 in the Gospel according to Matthew, the section that contains verses 15-22 starts with, “Then the Pharisees went off and plotted…” The words and the image they conjure, are such a stark contrast to that of my experience in nature, earlier in the day. What a difference a spirit of inclusion, acceptance, respect, and mutual existence might have made back then. What a difference it might make now.

Nature is all around us, and we are part of it. Yet, all this time gone by, still, we fight it. All these years later, still, we resist joining together. Perhaps, one by one, we might learn to be companions to each other, and the plotting will end. Then, maybe… we might see, how foolish we have been.

If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence, we could rise up rooted like trees.
– Rainer Maria Rilke

The Pharisees went off
and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech.
They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying,
“Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man
and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.
And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion,
for you do not regard a person’s status.
Tell us, then, what is your opinion:
Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”
Knowing their malice, Jesus said,
“Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?
Show me the coin that pays the census tax.”
Then they handed him the Roman coin.
He said to them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?”
They replied, “Caesar’s.”
At that he said to them,
“Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar
and to God what belongs to God.” – Matthew 22:15-22

Musical inspiration: The King of Love My Shepherd Is

Channels…

Each time I have had the opportunity to travel west through New York, coming across the Erie Canalway National Heritage Corridor brings me back decades to being a young student, and a favorite social studies lesson that included an explanation of how canals work. I recall listening with great interest about the way that locks and channels along the way, made it possible for canals to bridge the gap where differences of altitude were previously an obstacle.

A few days ago, I attended a virtual meeting featuring two speakers who were former governors of different political affiliations. The topic they discussed was the importance of public service. Both emphasized that in their experience, engaging on a personal level with a wide array of people was critical, and how a lack of openness to each other and ongoing dialogue leads to polarization. In other words, when you get to know people and learn about their lives, you connect in a way that lends itself to trying to work together with respect and courtesy, despite any differences of opinion. It reminded me of locks (or stops) and channels on the canal, working together to level things off, close the space between, and create a solution to overcome the difference that was otherwise impossible.    

October 4th is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, who was born into a very well to do family in the 12th century. He lived a lavish lifestyle in his younger years, but in his early 20s, he became disillusioned with the material life and all that came with it, and walked away from it. From that point he increasingly embraced a life of prayer from which his words and actions, through the grace of God, flowed. He is quoted as saying, “It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.”

St. Francis’s life started in a very different space, more than comfortable, and far away from the experience of most. In the end though, he had closed the gap and found the greatest of riches, in doing so.

In current day times, there is too much distance between… too much space across so many arenas, and it is wreaking havoc. It can seem that there is not a lot that one can do. However, we can always decide what kind of channel we want to be, and we can always seek inspiration that helps us to shorten, or even close, the space between, and rise above the deficits that may be.

I have chosen you from the world, says the Lord,
to go and bear fruit that will remain. – John 15:16

Peace Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

There’s A Hole…

As autumn makes her entrance, bursts of color begin to appear where once green was all around. Noticing an especially colorful section for so early in the season, I also see a gap within it… something missing… branches gone or somehow lost along the way.

As I look, I wonder. What could they have been? What would they have been? How the rest of the scenery is affected by their absence, also crosses my mind.

More than 204,000 people in the United States of America have died from COVID-19 thus far. That is approximately 21% of the 989,000 brothers and sisters across the world who have died from the virus. In the 196 recognized countries, almost 1 Million people have died since this pandemic began. While this is a statistic, it is far greater than a number(s).

What do we know about our brothers and sisters who have succumbed to this illness? The truth is, we know that they represented a wide range of age groups; came from various backgrounds, and political and religious affiliations; and studied or worked in all different kinds of occupations, to name just a few things. We also know, for sure, that they were not all advanced in age, nor did they all have pre-existing health conditions. Some, in fact, were closer to what would be considered the first half of life, physically fit, and/or not considered to be at a higher risk.

More important than all of that, they were fellow human beings. They were not just a number. They were living, breathing human beings, whose lives are not to be readily written off as dispensable to serve the interests of any one person or people in particular claiming to be “for” Life. Those who have died, loved, and were loved, and now, they are missed, leaving a gap… an emptiness, most especially for those who knew them best.

More than 204,000, and counting, brothers and sisters in the United States of America. More than 989,000, and counting, brothers and sisters worldwide. What could they have been? What would they have been? How is rest of the world affected by their absence?

Will we be driven further apart by lies, deception, and reckless disregard for life, or will we see what is truly going on, honor the lives of those who have died, and finally, come together?

Brothers and sisters:
If there is any encouragement in Christ,
any solace in love,
any participation in the Spirit,
any compassion and mercy,
complete my joy by being of the same mind, with the same love,
united in heart, thinking one thing.
Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory;
rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves,
each looking out not for his own interests,
but also for those of others.
Have in you the same attitude
that is also in Christ Jesus. – Phil 2:1-5

Getting There…

Among memories of summers past, some of the hotter days rise to the surface. I remember moments, as a child, of hopping from one foot to the other, ooh-ing and ah-ing, while traversing the cement deck or driveway barefoot in route to the cooler green grass on the other side. Along the same lines, there was the trek from the parking lot at the beach, to the water. Whether we entered near a ramp or the stairs leading down to the beach, there was always a tricky section, of varying width and riddled with stones of various sizes or dry shifting sand, to cross before reaching the sand that was flat and smooth and then the water that was cool, and sometimes exhilarating, while at others more serene.

As I think back on these times, equally vivid are the pain and the payoff. There was no way to get from one side to the other without experiencing some level of being uncomfortable and some portion of less or much less than ideal. Yet, the promise of arriving on the other side, the hope of what it held, the lessons learned, and the experience waiting over there, made the effort worthwhile and far outweighed the negatives. It always does.

I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness. – St. Teresa of Calcutta

If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts. – Psalm 95

Awash…

As each wave comes ashore, along the way it covers all that is lower lying. Sometimes stacking up, it covers higher ground too. Then as it recedes, it pulls back toward the ocean all that is loose or unanchored, leaving a murky mixture of unsettled sand and water behind.

The movement is constant, the intensity waxing and waning, turning motion into commotion at times. Yet, standing in the water, witnessing and experiencing the ebb and flow, toes, then feet and more, under water, swaying… sometimes shifting for better footing, sometimes falling over, but ultimately finding the way, and keeping balance amid conditions of low visibility.  So much like the days we are in, so much tossed about, up in the air, or sinking.

Still though, in between the waves, and even within, there is Hope. There are always moments of clarity where despite murky water all around, the anchor, tried and true, still holds, and the floor of sand with its assorted pebbles, rocks, and shells can be seen. For water that moves always comes clean. Always, always, refreshing the soul… renewing the heart.

May God enlighten the eyes of our hearts,
that we may know what is the hope
that belongs to our call. – Ephesians 1:18

Awash

Reach…

The rays of light poured forth from the sun, extending toward the sea before carrying on and making their way across the water. Then from there, onto the shore, absorbing all in its path, catching passersby, and filling with gratitude, awe and inspiration, each willing soul along the way.

Sometimes getting from one side to the other is easier said than done. Today I found myself thinking about a day, a number of years ago, that I had to fly out of state to do a training session. It had been a productive day, moving right along with no hitches, but still it was a long day and at the end, I could not wait to be home again. However, the return trip was unexpectedly delayed. I remember checking in and boarding the flight, and feeling relieved as the plane began to depart from the gate. I was thinking that soon we would be in the air and less than a couple of hours later reaching the destination. All was good.

Continuing on, we began to move forward, and we kept moving, but without picking up speed. Then, the plane came to a halt, and remained halted on the tarmac for a number of hours. All passengers confined to their seats, I remember feeling more than a little upset as the time standing there, still, grew longer and longer.

Feeling so stuck, it was hard not to wonder, why? Why did the plane pull away from the gate, leaving one and all stranded, with nowhere to go? What is going on? Why are we waiting here? How long will it be?

Eventually, a far time from departing from the gate, the plane was able to take off. I found myself feeling so thankful along the way, upon landing and deplaning, and even more grateful, upon arriving home and climbing into my bed that late night/early morning. Thinking back on that trip, I remember at first feeling defeated in those long moments of waiting. The situation at hand invasive, threatening to wash away the prior, more pleasant happenings of the day. Then, as the time passed, sifting through various thoughts and feelings, somewhere in between, I remember letting go and arriving at a different destination—peace. All was good.

Back then, I did not understand. Since then, I have come to see. The tarmac, what seemed an empty wasteland, the place of being stuck or just waiting and waiting, held the same peace I was longing for at home. Yet, it was only able to reach me, and me it, in my letting go.

Most often what is waiting in between, the in between—Peace—is what gets one through.

Peace, always reaching out, longing to be held.

Peace, a treasure, seeking to be sought, but more than often not.

Peace, always near, always here, wandering care. 

Peace, destined for each other, like the calling of a mother.

Reach

Resonance…

Recently, there have been a number of times, when looking out the window, the birds that are usually fluttering and moving from one spot in the yard to another, have been awfully still. They have been hanging around in one area of the grass or perched on a branch much longer than usual. Then yesterday afternoon, another of our frequent visitors, a rabbit, was not just eating, but was also sprawled out, as if reclining on the grass as it was eating. I had never seen that before and found it rather curious. Then I thought, it must be hurt, but it wasn’t. After watching for a minute or two, I went off to do something else, and when I returned, the rabbit was in its more usual, upright position.

Today, sitting at the kitchen island, it is not long before I become aware of the ticking of the clock or the buzzing of messages received by cell. Even in another spot, not long before there is something else calling attention or looking to be tended to, remembered not forgotten. And while I may perceive these all as I go about my way, sometimes at a quickened pace, sometimes still, others passing through and moving on, it is only when I really stop and take the time to listen, that my heart can open up not only to hear, but also to remember, the Truth beyond the mission.

Earlier this week, I came across the following prayer. A great reminder of all the reasons why—The Reason why. It is by John Henry Cardinal Newman, whose motto was “Cor ad cor loquitur” or “Heart speaks to heart.” It’s about all that matters…

Dear Jesus, help me to spread your fragrance everywhere I go;
Flood my soul with your spirit and life;
Penetrate and possess my whole being so completely
That all my life may be only a radiance of yours;
Shine through me and be so in me
That everyone with whom I come into contact
May feel your presence within me.
Let them look up and see no longer me—but only Jesus.
Amen.

– Saint John Henry Newman

BlueJay1

Drawing Wise…

Drawing, in its various forms, is something that all people tend to do. Although not necessarily the kind of drawing that is by hand, certainly the kind of drawing that informs or leads to conclusions, maybe even actions.

Stepping outside, I am drawn to the beauty of the trees and the composition spread across the sky. After a period of pause, I am moved to capture, or at least try, and then to share the scene.

Throughout each day, there are moments of drawing, being drawn in, and opportunities to take notice. In those moments and following them, what happens?

In the Book of Sirach, it is written:

With all your soul draw close to Wisdom;
and with all your strength keep her ways.
Inquire and search, seek and find;
when you get hold of her, do not let her go.
Thus at last you will find rest in her,
and she will become your joy. – Sirach 6:26-28

In a world so steeped in competition, mastering the art of out-preparing, and getting “there” first, Wisdom can seem so elusive. And sometimes, to wait for it, may seem a strategy for those who are passive, or even worse, it may seem like forfeiture or a giving up. Yet, Wisdom knows all too well, waiting is not for the faint of heart.

Saint Augustine wrote, “Patience is the companion of wisdom.” In current times, patience seems to wear thin, and in moving about, it can seem as if all are strangers in a strange land. There are so many twists and turns, and maneuvering and holding on among competing interests, can easily find its way toward the never lasting.

To this, Wisdom says:

Look around for all that is worthwhile;
“faithful in words and holy in works” (Psalm 145:13).
Be drawn into each experience,
and from it, draw,
but only that which is worthwhile;
“faithful in words and holy in works.”

Wisdom is all around, but, oh, how often, one misses this, while going after “that.”

Wisdom

We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
Our statures touch the skies.

The heroism we recite
Would be a daily thing,
Did not ourselves the cubits warp
For fear to be a king.  – Emily Dickinson, We Never Know How High We Are (1176)

Peace, piece by piece…

As we remain afloat in a sea of COVID-19 and political, social, and financial unrest, we are in the midst of much that aspires to debilitate and obliterate. As it carries on, sometimes it can seem like this state of disarray could go on forever. However, despite it all, progress comes as waves of truth and courage continue to rise. More and more join in, standing up and speaking out, seeking to overcome the past, and to affect long awaited change.

Sometimes, it is a matter of coming to see, that as the big things knock us out or push us back, our peace lies in the little things. The little things, like the way a squirrel gathers acorns, one at a time, teach us wisdom and move us forward. Step after step, it is the little things and all that is in between, that truly push us ahead and lead us to the places where we need to be.

“It’s the little details that are vital. Little things make big things happen.” – John Wooden

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