A Year Of Kindness: Kindness Begets Expansive Vision

 One of the things that kindness will do for you, if you practice it enough, is expand your view of the world and God's creation.

The place I have found this to be most true for myself is in my relation to Nature.

I have also had a general respect for Nature. I tried not to burn things down growing up (let us be honest, young boys love fire).  I did not litter.  The fish that I caught with my maternal grandfather were always for eating.  

But I had my own not great side as well.  Stepping on snails and slugs.  Randomly ripping off leaves of plants  (mostly wildflowers) for no other reason than a nervous habit.

Being older and trying to be more consciously kind over the years has helped with that.

My fidgeting I have mostly learned to keep to myself now instead the need to strip something of leaves.  I will walk around the snails and slugs, perhaps picking up the snails and helping them across (not the slugs, of course; I merely wish them well).  I have now been known to rescue earthworms in our parking lot after the rain (maybe to a bird's maw of course, but at least that seems better than getting run over or drowned).

I have always had a respect for animals - we always had cats growing up and through my life, we have had dogs, hamsters, chickens, quail, a pony, guinea pigs and of course rabbits - but I find my relationship with them in general has become much deeper than before.  When The Ravishing Mrs. TB travels, I am far more likely to let A The Cat sleep with me, knowing that he is home alone during the day (although I will not sleep as well).  I am learning to read J The Rabbit's moods better as well.

I cannot point to one event in any of this and say "This has made me more kind".  But I can say that through learning to be kind, it has made me much more aware, which in itself enables kindness.

It seems that the kinder one is, the more one finds to be kind to.

Another In The Fire

"Another In The Fire" has been performed from time to time at our current church.  It is upbeat enough, and I do like the lyrics.  But sometimes I am really struck by something that has always been there but I seem to have never heard before.

In the midst of this song comes the bridge:

"And I can see the light in the darkness

As the darkness bows to Him

I can hear the roar in the heavens

As the space between wears thin

I can feel the ground shake beneath us

As the prison walls cave in

Nothing stands between us

Nothing stands between us"

I do not know what struck me about it the words.  Maybe it was the image - Darkness bowing to Jesus, space wearing thin between the heavens, the ground shaking as the prison walls cave in.  I cannot tell you what appealed to me, but it touched me deeply.

Run time:  8:27.

Lyrics (Note:  These may slightly differ from the lyrics in the video; I cannot find a lyric set for this live version):

VERSE 1:
There’s a grace when the heart is under fire
Another way when the walls are closing in
And when I look at the space between
Where I used to be and this reckoning
I know I will never be alone

CHORUS 1:
There was another in the fire
Standing next to me
There was another in the waters
Holding back the seas
And should I ever need reminding
Of how I’ve been set free
There is a cross that bears the burden
Where another died for me

TAG:
There is another in the fire

VERSE 2:
All my debt left for dead beneath the waters
I’m no longer a slave to my sin anymore
And should I fall in the space between
What remains of me and this reckoning
Either way I won’t bow
To the things of this world
And I know I will never be alone

CHORUS 2:
There is another in the fire
Standing next to me
There is another in the waters
Holding back the seas
And should I ever need reminding
What power set me free
There is a grave that holds no body
And now that power lives in me

BRIDGE:
And I can see the light in the darkness
As the darkness bows to Him
I can hear the roar in the heavens
As the space between wears thin
I can feel the ground shake beneath us
As the prison walls cave in
Nothing stands between us
Nothing stands between us

VERSE 3:
There is no other name
But the Name that is Jesus
He who was and still is
And will be through it all
So come what may in the space between
All the things unseen and this reckoning
I know I will never be alone

CHORUS 3:
There’ll be another in the fire
Standing next to me
There’ll be another in the waters
Holding back the seas
And should I ever need reminding
How good You’ve been to me
I’ll count the joy come every battle
‘Cause I know that’s where You’ll be  

Two Years Of New Home 2.0

Almost by stealth this week, the two year anniversary of my official "being" in New Home 2.0 came and went.

It slipped by without fanfare or notice; the only specific reminder I had was a "memory" post in a social media platform that reminded me that we had gone to the coast the day before.

In one way it is very hard to believe that it has been two years since my relocation.  For example, it feels like I have been at my job for years, not just the two years that it has actually been.  The seasons are starting to have a feel to them that is not "Good Lord, what is the weather?", followed by scurrying around to prepare.    And the apartment feels as much as home as the house in New Home was, probably helped by the fact that A The Cat and J The Rabbit are here too.

In terms of me....there would probably be some value in reviewing my journals over the last two years.  There are changes afoot, some changes that I can definitely see and some that buried that do not reveal themselves to me on first glance.  And some, I suspect, that are still working themselves out.

Moments like these make me reflect on the impermanence of life.  Certainly if you had asked me four years ago if I thought this would be where I was, I would have laughed at you.  Sure, moving back in the direction of The Ranch and closer to my parents would have been ideal, but there was no way in my then-current circumstances that this was going to happen.  There was no job and I was far too entrenched in my life there to think that I could move anywhere.

Then, of course, life happened because God happens.

It has been a good two years overall. I have found friends.  I have continued to train.  I continue to slowly find my place and my people here. 

And to top that all off, we are at the beginning of Spring.  The trees are blooming.

Life is indeed good.

A Year Of Haiku (X): Jonquils Of Dawn

 

Garish Fluorescence

lights the jonquils before dawn:

Winter's grip melting.

2026 Japan: Kobudo Kyokai Taikai (V)

The modern European matchlock, or teppo, arrived in Japan in 1543, when a Portuguese ship was blown off course and landed at the island of Tanegashima (the firearm was also known as Tanegashima, named after the island).  The local daimyo, Tanegashima Tokitaka, bought two and put a swordmaker to work.  From these humble beginnings, the teppo became one of the dominant features of Japanese battlefields:  by 1575 at the Battle of Nagashino, 3,000 gunners firing volleys of 1000 shots at a time destroyed the cavalary of the heretofore very successful Takeda clan.  By the time of the Japanese invasion of Korea in the Imjin War (1592-1596), a quarter of the 160,000 troops were gunners.

The last event at every Kobudo Kyokai Taikai is an example of the art of Hōjutsu, or gunnery.  This year's demonstrating art was Morishige-Ryu.

Getting the floor protected:

Entrance:

Preparing:

Fire!

Volley:

2026 Japan: Kobudo Kyokai Taikai (IV)

 Hoki-Ryu Iaido.  This falls within the larger family of Iaijutsu, of which I am a practitioner:

Tamiya-ryu Iaido.  Also within the larger family of Iaijutsu:

Yagyu Shingen Ryu, another armored style.  I do not believe I have seen any armored styles in person prior to this year, and now I have seen two:

Yaguy Shinkage Ryu?  Next year, I will remember to take a picture of the display:

Negshi-Ryu Shuriken Jutsu.  Contrary to popular belief, throwing spikes/darts like these were just as a common as the "Ninja stars" of modern martial arts movies.

Jonah And The Age Of Rage

 Yesterday my pastor preached a banger of a sermon that left me thinking long after the sermon ended.

The sermon - one part of two or possibly three - dealt with the book of Jonah. It is a short book in the Old Testament and is likely one of Biblical stories that almost everyone has heard of, even if not a believer:  A guy getting swallowed by a large sea animal (whale or fish, your mileage may vary) will stick in anyone's mind.

The first chapter of Jonah appears at first glance to be pretty clear cut:  Jonah, a prophet of God in the Northern kingdom of Samaria in the mid-8th Century B.C., is commanded by God to go preach a message of judgement and repentance to the kingdom of Assyria.  Jonah has no desire to do so (we will get to that in a minute) and so flees West in precisely the opposite direction.  A storm comes up and, through a drawing of lots, the crew discovers that Jonah is the reason for the storm.  He is thrown overboard and swallowed by aforementioned fish/whale, where is composes a song to God (more on that later too).  At the end of Chapter 2, he is spit back up on land after three days to get back on track.

---

My pastor, at the opening of his sermon, proposed two questions and asked "Which one bothers your more?: 

1) Why do bad things happen to good people?

2)  Why do good things happen to bad people?"

For him, he suggested - and for many - the second question is harder one.  We as Christians can walk through the fact of God's sovereignty at difficult times of our lives ("All things work together for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose" - Romans 8:28).  What is far more difficult is when good things happen to bad people, to vile people, to the worst of sinners.  "God makes the sun to shine the rain to fall on the just and the unjust" said Christ in Matthew 5 - but I wonder if I believe too often that God does so grudgingly.

Jonah's sin, my pastor suggested, was that he was so frightened of God's compassion that he fled God's mission.  He disliked - indeed hated, as we find out later - the Assyrians, and would rather not preach to them lest they receive God's mercy.

To be fair, from a human standpoint the Assyrian Empire was cruel and treated all of its enemies cruelly (and would, in fact, eventually conquer the Kingdom of Samaria).  So - humanly speaking - his reaction was understandable.  Why risk offering such terrible people the mercy of God?

Because there was a risk they might get His mercy.

We are no different that Jonah, was the analysis.  In Matthew 5:44 Christ commands His followers "Love your enemies and prayer for those who persecute you".  Christ, he suggested, does not call us to hate or even to indifference towards them.  He calls us to pray for them, to shape our hearts in mercy towards everyone.

Jonah, as the story goes, turns out to be a narcissist:

-  He will not carry out God's commands to the Assyrians because he does not like them (in fact, hates them). 

- He does not concern himself with the crew during the storm, in which they are working hard to keep the ship afloat and praying to their own gods while he is taking a nap and not praying at all.  

- The crew, during the course of the story, come to realize that Yahweh, the covenantal name used by the Israelites, is the one true God (they offer a sacrifice to Him at the end of Chapter 1); Jonah haphazardly mentions he serves that God during his trip but that is about it.  

- Even at the end of Chapter 1 when the casting of lots reveals Jonah is the cause of the storm, Jonah does not suggest returning to Joppa so he can continue his mission (it is interesting to theorize what would have happened if he did:  would the storm also have ended immediately?), but would rather be thrown into the ocean and, for all he knew, die rather than run the risk of good things happening to his enemies.

Once he is swallowed, he composes a song to God (Chapter 2).  In it, depending on your translation, Jonah uses the words "I, me, my" 16 times in 9 verses:

-  He cries out to God because of affliction - which would not have occurred if Jonah had followed God's command.  

- He says that God cast him into the deep - God did not; he got there in an interest to be sacrificed rather than follow God's command.  

- In verses 8-9 he notes "Those who regard worthless idols forsake their own mercy, but I will sacrifice to You" - but in point of fact, the pagan sailors found God and sacrificed to Him.  

- Jonah could not even be bothered to pray.  "I will pay what I have vowed", says Jonah in the latter half of verse 9 - but he had vowed, if anything, to refuse the command of God to go to Nineveh.

Jonah ends up being spit out to start over again, but nowhere in his prayer to God does he talk about actually doing what God commanded.

---

I have often lamented here what I have termed "The Age Of Rage", a sense that I have almost everyone is angry at everyone and everything all the time.  It seems to me that too often, people assume the worst of others.  It is not even that things can be discussed in reason; things cannot be discussed at all.  Nothing can simply exist anymore:  everything has to serve a cause, and woe be to those on the wrong side.

Understandable from a human perspective.  As Christ says in Matthew 5:43 "You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy."  For many people - for me, too often - they would stop reading right there - after all, it makes complete sense.  Like those who like you, hate those who hate you.

Understandable from a human perspective.  But we miss that second part too often in verse 44: "But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

If all we ever do is live in hatred of others, it cannot but impact our own hearts.

---

As always, I write this to convict myself.

One of the best (although accidental) decisions I made during the last election cycle was to set the rule that if anyone posted anything political in nature, I would simply hide them from my feed.  That extended to "both sides" as it were.  Over time, my feed has become mostly politically and "modern issues" free, for which I am grateful.

But I am still in this climate.  I still hear the words that people launch at one another, the emotion that comes to dominate every aspect of their lives until everything is a life or death moment.  We are all involved in a great war - not the Spiritual War the Bible speaks of so often (yes, I know, we are involved in that of course), but a great social and political war which is always on and in which we must always choose a side.

I look at that.  I am tempted to love some and hate others.  And then I look at the commands of Christ.

Does Paul command the Thessalonians to avoid even the appearance of evil?  Yes.  Does Christ command his followers to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves?  Also yes.  But I struggle to find the command that I must think poorly of, let alone be at war, with everyone with whom I may disagree about anything.  

Marinate a piece of meat in a marinade long enough and it will come to take on the flavour of the marinade.  Marinate your heart in anger and hate long enough and no matter how often or much you proclaim your Christian beliefs, the anger and hate will come through.

Forgive them, said Jesus as they nailed Him to the Cross, for they know not what they do.  Earlier he had told his disciples that the servant was not above the master, that if they hated Him they would hate His followers.

In an Age Of Rage, I as a Christian should - indeed, must - be different.  As my Master was.

A Year Of Kindness (XI): The Lion And The Mouse

 

(Source)

The Lion And The Mouse

A Lion lay asleep in the forest, his great head resting on his paws. A timid little Mouse came upon him unexpectedly, and in her fright and haste to get away, ran across the Lion's nose. Roused from his nap, the Lion laid his huge paw angrily on the tiny creature to kill her.

"Spare me!" begged the poor Mouse. "Please let me go and some day I will surely repay you."

The Lion was much amused to think that a Mouse could ever help him. But he was generous and finally let the Mouse go.

Some days later, while stalking his prey in the forest, the Lion was caught in the toils of a hunter's net. Unable to free himself, he filled the forest with his angry roaring. The Mouse knew the voice and quickly found the Lion struggling in the net. Running to one of the great ropes that bound him, she gnawed it until it parted, and soon the Lion was free.

"You laughed when I said I would repay you," said the Mouse. "Now you see that even a Mouse can help a Lion."

A kindness is never wasted.

- Aesop (~620-564 B.C.)  (Source)

Shelf Cat

 

Morning darkness shines:

yellow lamp and orange fur

and reflective eyes.

An Unexpected Retirement

 In an unexpected turn of events at the end of last month, my manager announced that she was retiring.

It was not a completely unexpected outcome:  I had no idea how old she is (and it is never polite to ask a lady) but it turns out that this was the year that it could all work for her.  Also, for the past 5 years she has been commuting from her home in the next state over and staying in New Home 2.0 four days a week before heading back for three days a week.  She will be retiring to her family farm, where she will be working on her art and her rather large (and expanding garden).

As you can imagine, this has upset the apple cart a bit.

One of the immediate questions that came up from my coworkers and even my direct reports was "Will you apply for the job?"  I thought about it for something like five minutes; knowing what I know about the position and the state of the work world, I do not have the particular elements of the industry experience nor the long experience at working at a large company that those who make such decisions put into the job description.

Besides, not one person in the hiring chain suggested I throw my hat into the ring, which tells me volumes.  That, and the fact that having done that role once before (which ended in Hammerfall 2.0), I was not terribly eager to throw myself into that fire again.  I have no need to build a career or empire at this point: I am just trying to make it to retirement.

What it does mean, though, is for interim - and who knows how long that will last - I will be acting in her stead.

That is not as daunting as a task at it may seem at first blush: internally I know everyone in the department and the transfer of responsibilities in terms of reporting will be minimal.  Yes, my schedule in terms of one on one meetings is about to double (I will likely be spending 8 hours a week talking to people), but most everyone is pretty self-sufficient at this point.  They do not need me to tell them what to do (in general); often they just want an ear to listen to them with challenges.

The daunting part will be that - at least for the intervening period of time - I will be the one everyone wants a decision from.

I have been in this position before and know exactly what it is like: e-mails and chats throughout the day, people grabbing you in hallways, and of course the ever present growth of meetings. It becomes almost impossible to do your actual "work".

The other side of this, of course, is what happens when that person is hired.

I have already had some such discussion with my team.  I have reminded them that, given everything that we are doing, no-one has any interest in disrupting ongoing operations; if anything, we have become more valuable than before because leadership (that amorphous term that refers to a series of groups of people above our heads) wants things to continue to move forward.  But I also know, from painful experience, that it is always uncomfortable and always engenders change.

And then, of course, there is my own adjustment.

There will be that initial stage where the incoming person knows nothing and is just meeting people and going to meetings to gain context, followed by the gradual assumption of responsibilities and then the setting of a course, perhaps a different course, than what we have been on.  And then the inevitable reorganization that happens and what will become the "New Normal".

My estimate? This will take the rest of the year to settle out, assuming that person arrives within one or two months.

I am super happy for my manager.  She deserves this retirement and I hope it is a good one for her.  But I am really sad for the rest of us.

Maybe even sadder for me.  Because she had a wealth of experience and was a great manager.  No matter who comes in, it will be a very different feel.  I worry a bit for my own future - not so much in another Hammerfall scenario, but rather in the scenario of either being pigeonholed or having nowhere to go.

I just have to keep reminding myself head down like a bison in a snowstorm.  This, too, shall pass.

TB The Elder Day

You have may have heard of the idea of "work spouses", the concept that there are individuals that we work with that essentially become the working equivalent of our spouse due to the time we spend with them on a weekly basis and the degree of closeness that one acquires in working with a particular set of people over the years.  I have, somewhat in the same fashion, apparently acquired "work children".

The request came about innocently enough, a younger coworker (arguably 90% of my worksite is younger than I am) with whom I spent a lot of time in work and discussion asked me out of the blued "Would you be my work dad?"

Well, sure, I said after I thought about it for a bit.  My one condition was that they are financially independent; I pay for nothing. But if they just wanted someone to lend an ear or fill in occasional words that maybe had some wisdom in them from time, I was up for the job.

I started with one "adopted" daughter.  I now have three.

---

Last month, one of my new "children" popped an invite on my calendar entitled "Lunch with Dad". It was not a big deal - lunch at a chain close to our place of work - but I have confess it tickled me to no end.  After all, Na Clann are thousands of miles away (literally) and I see them now twice or thrice a year.  A "Dad date", even with bright young women not your own genetically who - for reasons unknown to me - are willing to call you "Dad" even jokingly warms my heart.

This month, looking at the calendar, I picked a Friday for another "Lunch with Dad" date.  And then I looked at the date.  It was the day after my father's birthday.

---

TB The Elder, for those that may be of newer vintage here, was my father (thus, I am TB - although arguably, not TB The Younger).  I do not suppose I have a better introduction to him than the eulogy for his funeral (at least, at the macro level).

He and I had what is likely a more common father/son experience than I had believed when I was much younger.  I used to think we were not alike at all growing up; I think we were more alike in spirit than I realized although in manifested in what we did.  We "graduated" from that experience sometime in my mid to late twenties (more due to my inability to grow up than a failure on his part), and sometime in my mid to late thirties reached a far better relationship - although we never really shared the same interests, we could at least communicate about them in a way that showed interest and got the message across.  Over time, he came to realize that he himself struggled with depression (which I have for most of my life, which was an insight into perhaps where mine came from) and even anger issues, which he apologized for.

Over the last few years, I have realized that I am like him far more than I have thought:  a self-thought and personality tested introvert, I have learned to be as social as he ever was.  I can make "smart" comments in the same way to generate laughs.  We cared and care about different aspects of Nature.  We were and are really both homebodies. Sometimes, we struggle with our religion (as my father said for many years, he was not sure that he believed but he went to church because my mother did).  And I always, always have the example of him acting as the primary caregiver of my mother for 7 years as her Alzheimer's grew worse - until finally, after she was safely in a memory facility, his own body and mind gave out as well.

If there is interest, most of my interactions of that time are located here.

It was shocking to me to look are realize that this July will have been four years since his passing - honestly, I would have pegged it at only two.  How time gets away from us.

---

 Here at The Forty-Five, we celebrate a series of holidays which are in some cases the equivalent of local regional holidays, the sorts of things that a town or region might do.  One of these is, of course Failure Day (02 August), a day to celebrate failures.  Added to the pantheon will now be 11 March (my father's birthday), hereafter known as TB The Elder Day.

---

My adopted "daughters" asked me why I had chosen the Friday (tomorrow) for lunch. I simply said that was the day after my father's birthday, and it seemed a good enough reason to celebrate.  And I sent them his obituary.

One of them responded back:  "Wow.  Good men raising good men".

I do not know that I am good man.  But I have seen at least one.

2026 Japan: Kobudo Kyokai Taikai (III)

 Sabuir-ryu sojutsu (Spear fighting):

           Shiojutsu Ken Ri Kata Ichiryu Katsuchu Batto Jyu.  This is one of the two groups that demonstrated cutting techniques in armor, something I have never seen in person.  Interestingly, Google Translate returned  "First class armored sword drawing technique" for the characters.                                                                                     

I believe this is Chikabushima-ryu Stick fighting:

Nito Shinkage Ryu Kusarigama Jutsu.  The kusraigama is a traditional Japanese sickle attached to a chain with a heavy iron weight at the end.  The weight and chain are spun and either used for strikes or to wrap the enemy's weapons and either disarm or disable them, at which point the kusari (sickle) would be used for the coup de grace.

 

You will note here that kusarigama is being used for actually strikes.  This is very high level, and shows the trust that the master and student have.  This has been true as you have watched most of the videos; the ability to control the weapon to the point of either almost making contact or making contact is one of the first things I suspect is taught and emphasized at any martial school.  Anyone can hit something; it takes control to get within a hair's breadth or even make contact without injury.

2026 Japan: Kobudo Kyokai Taikai (II)

 Kanshin Ryu Jiu-jutsu:

Niten Ichi-ryu.  A style that uses two swords, this is the technique started by Miyamoto Musashi, author of A Book of Five Rings.

Goju Ryu from Okinawa.  His breath control is amazing.  The Berserker, my weight training coach, is also a practitioner, and said this is Tensho kata, inu ibuki (soft power breathing):

Jigen Ryu.  Famous for their kiai (shout), which is referred to as Enkyo (Monkey scream):

Yoshin Ryu Naginata Jutsu.  Kimonos and polearms.  What is not to like?

An Unexpected Mailbox Surprise

One of the rather depressing things about being an adult is you almost know what to expect in the mailbox because nine times out of ten, you are the one that ordered (or they are bills of course, something that nobody orders).  The days of "Christmas Surprise" are very few and far between.

So imagine my surprise when, on Saturday, there was an unknown book-shaped box in my mailbox.

Tearing open, I found the above volume:  Sourdough without Fail:  100% Whole Grain Bread, Pizzas, and Pastries for any Kitchen by Kate Downham.

I have mentioned the site Permies here before, a great user group which is pretty much focused on all things Permaculture and Homesteading (if you are someone that has to "belong" to a group online, this is not a bad one).  Kate, who lives in Tasmania, Australia with her family (including 8 children)  has written a number of books.  I had backed her last book, Natural Small Batch Cheesemaking through Kickstarter and was quite impressed with her work.  Thus, when the opportunity came to support another of her books, I happily jumped in.

I always order the physical copies of the books if I can get them (I am just not as good at reading on-line) - and, of course, there is always a delay in receiving them from the time that the Kickstarter is backed.  Thus, I had completely forgotten this was coming.

What a delight to still be able to be genuinely surprised at a mail delivery.  I look forward to taking a crack at sourdough.

A Year Of Kindness (X): The Quiet Ones

(Source)

 Among the few things that will even send me into what passes as a rage is the mistreatment of animals (or really, I suppose, Nature of any kind).

I am mindful of the comment by the late Gene Logsdon that "Mother Nature could just as well be called Old ***** Nature."  Nature is as cruel as it is caring.  Logsdon uses the image of a buck being brought down by a pack of coyotes or wolves, the last minutes of pain and terror; is this not, he asks, not more cruel than a sudden event that ends in the same manner but without suffering or foreknowledge?

But the fact that Nature is cruel does not mean that anyone has the right to make it more cruel.  The same goes for how we treat people.

Animals can give signs and indications that something is not right, but it is not as if they have words that can tell you such things.  The reality is that the same is true for people as well.

I wonder if we often grasp the fact that for every person that can verbalize clearly mistreatment or harm that there are far more that cannot.  They have learned to simply muddle through life with the coping mechanism that they have in place - perhaps from a place of fear of what might happen if they do or perhaps from a place where they have never come to know or expect anything else.

I write this, I suppose, with a bit more of an edge than I usual approach such things.  For me, this is something personal.  I am one of those silent ones.

No, there is no significantly traumatic event in my past that has brought me to this as others have.  It is something that is more in my nature, likely compounded by the fact that as an introvert and someone who is conflict-adverse, I simply do not push back.  I have learned to manage through things to keep the peace and move things forward. 

If you have never paid such a price, do not underestimate the cost on the person involved.  It can be far more than you think.

Which, of course, is where kindness comes in.

Kindness, when practiced freely and without limit, acts as a buffer to such people (and animals as well).  We may never know what other people are going through - and by the practice of kindness, they may never feel the need to tell us.  What they will feel is noticed, attended to, respected. 

Even, dare we say it, loved and of infinite value.  Sort of like how God see us.

You can always tell when animals have been treated kindly.  They will show it in their reactions to you.  The same, I think, can be said of people.  It may be in an unexpected conversation or an unlooked for gesture or something that they present you - in physical form or words or music or really anything.  Something that they would not share with anyone but someone whom they feel safe with.

And ultimately, perhaps that is an aspect of kindness we never consider:  we create a space which is safe for everyone to feel comfortable and be themselves.  Which, as an introvert, I can assure is one of the greatest gifts you can give.

Book Review: Liturgies Of The Wild

An author whom I read regularly is Rod Dreher.  I have spoken of him more than once and have four of his books (How Dante Can Save Your Life, Live Note By Lies, The Benedict Option, Living in Wonder).  I enjoy his writing style and makes me think.  He also publishes a Substack (you can find it if you look) - I will simply say that I do not always agree with everything he writes, but he always makes me think.

One of the things that comes from his Substack is the amount that he reads.  He is a prodigious  reader and puts my reading list to shame.  He also freely shares what he reads and makes recommendations, which I confess have added to my own bookshelf (as if I needed another excuse).

One of his recent recommendations was Liturgies Of The Wild:  Myths That Make Us by Martin Shaw.

Shaw is quite a man of contrasts.  Originally a troubled youth (he alludes to being in a rock band at one point and going nowhere), he found himself attracted to myths, eventually receiving a Ph.D. and teaching at a number of schools and universities.  He has spent (and apparently spends) a great deal of time out of doors, either leading people on a form of retreat or on retreat himself.  He defines himself as a "mythologist".  Originally fallen away from the Christian faith, he later found his way back and is now a practicing Orthodox.

I do not quite know to describe Shaw's intention except to allow him to describe it himself:

"What kind of book have you opened?  A book with two intentions. Firstly, to provide you with mythologies that are expert in ushering people through life's travails, that do in fact speak in an initiatory tone, that provide a seam of ideas and images to gird your ways in troubling times.  Something you can hang your heart on.  Secondly, to show you that by nesting in those great myths you in turn start to sift the subterranean narratives of your own life to consciousness.  If your story is a river, then myth is the ocean it should naturally lead to."

He notes:

"This is a book in which we begin to regather our lost stories.  We regather them this way: We become conscious of how the great themes of myth speak through our own years.  When this happens, our own stories gain a shape and purpose that we may never have dreamed of.  This is a book about how to get home.  Home in our bones, our wonder, our eccentricity, our steadfastness.  Home in our curves, wrinkles, opinions, and grief.  The sheer, humble nobility of being lucky enough to be born at all.  There are many of us with second houses and pensions who are nowhere near anything that feels like home."

We have lost our stories and myths, suggests Shaw, and are left wandering through a world where, like his impression of much of church, is almost entirely indoors and cut off from Nature and the stories that once upon a time, gave humanity grounding.

By myths, I should note, Shaw is not just talking about what we would now consider mythology, gods and goddesses and heroes.  He consider what we now call folk tales or fairy tales as myth as well - something, again, we seem to have abandoned in a modern world where we can look through the heavens into depths of space but never really "see" the wonder.

Shaw organizes the book into a series of subjects - things like initiation and death and passivity and passion and prayer and guilt and envy and limit and evil.  He generally shares a story of interest from himself or involving him, pivots to a myth he feels is related, and then draws the lesson between the myth and the subject matter.

I will hesitate from speaking of some specific passages - because those specific passages have actually become part of what seems to be this impending feeling that there are things that I need to confront and (likely) change in my life (and thus, we will review them in due course).  So speaking in general, what did I think of the book?

It was....thought provoking.  Some of the chapters made me really think.  Some of the chapters essentially fell flat, at least for me - especially some of the later ones on the book, which I cannot tell if is due to the motif of story, myth, application was just an idea that got old after time or that they simply did not work as well as with some of the other sections.

What might wonder how, as a re-Christianized Christian (Orthodox tradition) and a mythologist with a huge gap between his childhood in a mainline denomination and his rediscovery of God, his view works.  The answer is kind of.  Certainly as someone that has delved deeply into stories, he sees them in ways that perhaps those that are not so deeply read in such things will not - and, I will say, I learned more of some types of "myths" (as defined above) than I had ever known about.  And yet, parts of that story telling did not work in reference to the Christian story.  Using the name Yeshua - which, while technically correct, I have always found as a bit of an affectation - was a little off-putting, as was the idea of Him as the story archetype of a Druid (again, perhaps right in terms of a story based observation, but again, off-putting).

I think his underlying points are good:  that we have lost story in our own lives - after all, some of the most inspiring and thought provoking items I have ever read were stories and, yes, myths - and have replaced it with a literalism that both binds and enervates us; that to integrate story and looking at the world outside of us (back to that idea of our church, and our life, being indoors) has the potential to change how we relate to God and His Creation.  The delivery is a bit uneven, though.

It is worth a read - as long as you are willing to hold the tension of a man who sees Christ and follows Him, but perhaps in a very different way.

Themes Of Mystery

 

(Source)

I cannot escape the fact that themes keep piling themselves into my life like advertisements on a radio that simply continue to repeat until you feel like you have to buy the product to make them stop.

I do not know how "messaging" (if that is what we shall call it) works in other's lives.  How does one know when a change needs to be made?  How does one sense that life is asking one to change course or direction, be it of a lifestyle or living or simply a pattern of thought?

Mine, apparently, comes through the written word.

It has been a slow process, perhaps two years or more (corresponding, as it turns out, to my relocation to New Home 2.0).  It has largely involved books, but quotes have participated also, as well as conversations with individuals.

It is that moment where the ground is shifting under your feet and you have no other option except to ride it like a surfer on a wave.

---

I comprehend that I am speaking a bit riddles.  Mostly that is due to the fact that I am trying to understand the themes and the questions themselves.  What they are - or at least my best guess at them - has migrated from notes to journaling to a Word document (so I can see everything in black and white).  Even with all of that, I am not sure that the thing is completely baked, as it were.  

There is that nagging feeling that out there, a few things remain to fall into place.

---

I would be lying if I said I was not approaching this with trepidation - mostly because of the fact that I know that this is going to end of pushing me way outside of the quiet comfort zone that I have spent years constructing for myself.

But I do not really know that I have a choice, trepidation or not.  We can only ignore things so long as we choose not to engage with them or they are not apparent to us; once they reveal themselves and begin to eat away at the framework, we have no choice but to work to reconstruct things based on the new reality.

One wonders if the incipient butterfly feels fear as it prepares to break through the chrysalis. 

Grey And Rainy

Drifting clouds spatter

neither Winter nor Spring rain:

my thoughts windblown too.

2026 Japan: Kobudo Kyokai Taikai (I)

 One of the highlights of our training trips to Japan is the ability to attend the Nihon Kobudo Kyokai Taikai, the Japanese Classical Fighting Arts Association Demonstration (a rather free translation).  The demonstration allows different schools to demonstarte.  Kobudo is typically considered to be arts developed before the Meiji Restoration of 1868.  That said, many of the arts here were founded before 1600.

On our way to the venue, we passed the Tayasu Mon (Tayasu Gate), one of the remaining portions of Edo Castle (now the Imperial Residence).   Originally built in 1607, the gate that we see today was built in 1636.

Viewing this even now gives me some idea what it would have taken in some of the actual historically recorded attacks on castles.

The Nihon Kobudo Kyokai takes place in the Budokan, a building built specifically for martial arts demonstrations.

This year's participants:

Kyudo, or archery:

Iaijutsu.  I believe this is Kanshin ryu.   (For clarity, not my school.)