Creation

Gardening, to me, is proof that God exists. How else could you explain that planted things, which seemingly do not have any of the required things or prime conditions for them, grow?

Witness my asparagus. I planted them without a row, probably not a wide enough trench, in some cases with the roots seemingly pointed up - yet when I went out on Wednesday, a frond caught my eye. Over the last two days, more have started showing up.

It appears I have asparagus.

What a good God - that we are granted a surfeit of wealth in the food that comes from His creation, if only we exercise a little effort. In fact, in so much He is gracious - "He makes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust."

The miracle of creation is not that we exist, but that God in His mercy and goodness continues to pour out His grace and love on rebels in every aspect of our existence.

Change

So I think I've figured out what the dream means, and why imaginings/fantasies are so attractive to me.

My realization started today with the thought, based on Bogha Frois' comments, that a dream with a known result is seemingly more desirable to me than reality with unknown results. Why? Because you don't know (and can't control) the outcome.

Then I realized that there are two types of people in my life: those whom I perceive as making changes or decisions and it having no impact, and my imaginings, in which my which my choices have direct impact (that whole cause and effect thing that was beaten into me in physics). Put another way, there are those to whom I try to live up to, and those to whom I live at the same level.

Which then brought forth the thought, why do you change, make decisions, or take actions?

More often than not, it is to get an action or behaviour out of others - rather than changing for them sake of improving myself or taking action.

Which is why 90% of my changes, decisions, or actions fail - because I take them based on the expected actions or behaviour of others, rather than for the benefit or excellence that is to be derived from them personally.

Do I care too much about the opinion of others? Why don't I live up more to the image of what I could be, rather than what I am?

Is this why I lack self confidence - that if I do something in hopes of affecting someone else and it fails, I feel like I have failed - instead of the intended action not causing the desired effect?

Grain

My grain is starting to reach the point that I need to consider harvest.

It's interesting - I learned some things for next year. Mostly the fact that my summer and winter gardens need to change sides as the seasons turn, and that fallow is not a really bad thing.

Again, my barley seems to have done super well. I have less crops of my two wheats, and maybe some rye as well - but the rye was planted on the summer side, and buried by weeds, so it seems to not have done as well.

The kicker is for next year. Even I, in my paranoid fashion, am eyeing the growing turmoil in food production. Could I plant enough grain on my garden to support us for a year? No way.

But - could I put in enough grain at the Ranch to do it? Maybe. I'd need more equipment - largely a manure spreader (readily available), a reaper/binder (less available), and a thresher (More difficult, although I've seen plans for a simple one). And seed, of course - although the items we used the year we tried were not nearly as productive as the stuff I grow at home.

I only need one good year, and then an annual rotation. Maybe I'm being silly, but I like my bread, I like to grow and grind grain - and a little paranoia once in a while is not a bad thing...

Odd Dream Part II

The ever helpful Bogha Frois analyzed my dream for me this afternoon.

"So what's it mean" she asked?

"I've no idea. Nothing in it makes sense."

"What did DT represent?"

"Personally, not a clue. If I had to think about it, I'd probably say it represents my inner longings that feel like their being trapped-"

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope. Here's what I think. With DT, you said that you already know what any outcome would be?"

"Yeah. You did read the blog, right? This is the kind of person I am well familiar with from my past."

"So what you're saying to me is that this...this..."

"Daydream?"

"Okay, daydream...this daydream, although you already know how things are going to end, is more desirable to you than the problems you are facing. You'd rather face a known failure than the unknown problems that you have to work on."

"In other words..."

"In other words, even you're daydreams are sad in that you dream about things you know will go badly. At least dream about something happy."

"But the dreams that are happy would never be. You know that."

"Yes I know. How pathetic is that?"

Like I said, she's very helpful.

But thought provoking. I know in my heart of hearts that I can never move in that direction, that the outcome is preordained - but that doesn't seem to stop some portion of my mind.

Desire is a dangerous and headstrong thing - given its head, it will run one over the cliff without thinking.

Glorifying God

Had a very good - and very thought provoking - men's retreat this weekend. The focus was on prayer, specifically the Lord's Prayer (Mathew 6: 5-15). The teaching was by Pastor Robert Briggs of Immanuel Baptist Church. It included the nature of how we pray, the Lord's prayer as a model, and the attitude of prayer.

The thought that has convicted me since then is simply my own unworthiness and my self focus. As Pastor Briggs pointed out, the Lord's prayer is designed such that first is God and His priorities, then us and our priorities. God's priorities: That the name of God is to be glorified, that there a serious interest in the furtherance of the Kingdom of God, and that there is a desire to see the accomplishment of the will of God on earth.

Frankly, the whole discussion simply made me realize how shallow and weak I am. How often am I concerned with glorifying God - I mean, I say I do, but do I really mean it? How often do I substitute my own desire and wants as ways that I will glorify God (by getting my own needs met) rather than simply seeking to glorify Him by obeying Him?

For example: I have a list of things I want to do, things I would like to be. In reality, I have been given certain gifts by God - am I seeking to glorify Him by using them to His glory, or am I seeking to use them to glorify myself or make myself feel better?

There's a lot caught up in this - submission, goals, holiness obedience. It was unsettling and good - but I am still haunted by the thought of glorifying self instead of glorifying God.

Sunrise

Above the pink haze,
Twin peaked mountain stands waiting
as the sun creeps up.

Another Odd Dream

I had another one of those "Odd" dreams again last night. The Ravishing Mrs. TB and myself were driving to the bottom of the American River Canyon to go to a Starbucks (and no, there is no Starbucks at the bottom of the American River Canyon). Once we were there, for some reason the Ravishing Mrs. TB had a quesodilla but wanted another one. For some reason I had one, but nothing to cut with. She was insistent that I get a knife or something from the cashier. This seemed to be a big deal - her insistence, my reluctance.

So I did ask, and get it. Suddenly, it's night and time to leave. We go out to the car, and suddenly I see DT there with family (I assume). We get in the car to leave, my eyes trying to catch DT's, even as they drive away. We get in, and we ourselves drive away in the dark.

And then again, I wake up in a disturbed mood (late for work, to boot).

Reality Smackdown

So I reached the point tonight (as I do occasionally) where work has become so stressful that I think to myself, "Self, I need to think about a new job."

I don't do this lightly. I don't really want to start over at the bottom somewhere else. But due to some home responsibilities this morning, I got to eat with my family, see my girls off to school, and drive in the sunlight. Gosh, I thought, wouldn't it be great if life was always like this?

So then I started looking online tonight. And now, I'm thankful I have a job.

There is nothing in my field in my area - or almost nothing. Entry level positions, perhaps one or two potential jobs (one of which I've interviewed for at least twice before), but not nearly what there was even a year ago.

This is jarring to me. It's also a reality smackdown, as this is continuing a trend I have noticed. Five years ago, interest from recruiters and companies dropped from trees. Two years ago, you had to work a bit, but there were still plenty online. Even a year ago, there was a fair amount online.

Now, not so much.

So the question: how do I manage my job and my stress level and the fact that for the duration, approximately 19 hours of my day are consumed by work or sleep (12 hours work, including commute, 7 hours sleep)?

How do I remain thankful I have a job?

Meetings, Emergencies, and Onions (and Garlic)

Today was just a slogging, miserable day - the kind of day where you start meetings at 0830 that bleed into other meetings, then into meeting for an emergency, then lunch when you talk about the emergency, then another meeting about the emergency, then you end up leaving 8.5 hours later (rising time is 0430, with a 2 hour commute in the afternoon) missing yet another meeting but you have a carpool, so off you go. The fabulous thing is that you have somehow managed to avoid doing any of the work that you intended to do, so you have that to work on as soon as you come in the next morning.

And the emergencies - that's the sheer insanity. There are moments when one feels as if one is trapped where the very process of thinking has been somehow abandoned, where common sense was left at Tivoli, where not only does the right hand not know what the left hand is doing but it is questionable if any two fingers on the same hand are moving in the same direction.

So to make myself happy, I planted onions and garlic.

The garden is getting ready to make the switchover from winter to spring: The wheat, rye, and barley are in full head now, and I am digging around them, preparing for the next round. The potatoes have sprouted, and I had the rather unusual experience of trying to plant asparagus - the root balls were big, and they take up lots of room, and then I figured "If I can plant them in rows, why not post holes?" We'll see - these things never work out well for me.

I planted three types of onions - yellow sets, seeds for Alisa Craig (a yellow bulbing onion), and Red Torpedo Onion ( a not surprisingly red onion). I like planting seeds, as it does give you more selection, and you can plant them closer - you pull them early for green onions (Yum!). The garlic are just plain old 3rd generation Safeway that I bought and have saved - although I have been getting some fabulous purple heads (which are hot - again, yum!).

It's amazing to me how happy being in the garden, working with the soil and plants, makes me - not that I have any more control over the process, but perhaps because I am less at the receiving end of circumstances beyond my control.

And, I suppose, that I get to eat the fruits (or vegetables) of my labor, instead of collecting more paper which will eventually be recycled.

Simple Pleasures

This evening one of simple pleasures. As the Ravishing Mrs. TB has had a hard week, I offered to take the girls out for a while. We used the Truck (always a pleasure for me) and went to In-n-Out burger for dinner. I am coming more and more to appreciate the virtues of In-N-Out for various reason: They are inexpensive (one of the few places we can feed our family for under $20.00), they are tasty, and since it costs the same to go to McDonald's, why not go where you like it more? (No small plastic knick-knacks to lay around, either)

After that, we went over to Lowe's. I typically don't like going to big home improvement stores (but prefer Lowe's to Home Depot), but I had gift cards, so off we went. We got peat pots to start our garden vegetables - in the past, I've been lazy about it , and my gardening suffers for it.

I also got a few flowers to plant around the front of the house. I've pretty much surrendered to the fact that for landscaping, especially out front (which typically I never see, because I'm in the house), as long as it is neat, easy, and has flowers, I'm good. At this point, we're not seeking to sell the house, and we're certainly not trying to impress anyone, so why not be reasonable.

One of the gems of the evening was watching the girls point out and follow the sparrows that live inside Lowe's. They always remind me of seeing the small things and valuing them.

And then, home and reading and bed. All in all, a reasonable evening.

Foggy Moon

Coastal pre-dawn fog
diffuses the crescent moon
as a pastel blur.

Spring in wine country

Smudgepots in vineyards,
Smokey squat Spring Jack-O-Lanterns
Scare away the cold.

The waning moon is blurred
by translucent harbringers:
Spring is not quite here.

Speech

So yesterday, I was preparing for my faith group lesson. We have currently been going through Titus, generally taking a section as broken down in the MacArthur Study Bible. Originally, I was going to do Titus 3:1-8.

Then, that whole thing about the Word of God being sharper than a two-edged sword, dividing between the soul and the spirit, came to light.

The verses we actually got to were verses 1 and 2: "Remind them to submit to rulers and authorities, to obey, to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no-one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing all meekness to all men".

In doing this study, I consulted Matthew Henry's Commentary on the Whole Bible. Here's a sample of where we ended up - for me, the most condemning part, the question of speaking evil of no-one:

“To speak evil of none, unjustly and falsely, or unnecessarily, without call, and when it may do hurt but no good to the person himself or to any other. If no good can be spoken, rather than speak evil unnecessarily, say nothing. We must never take pleasure in speaking ill of others, nor make the worst of any thing, but the best we can. We must not go up and down as tale-bearers, carrying ill-natured stories, to the prejudice of our neighbour’s good name the destruction of brotherly love. Misrepresentations, or insinuations of bad intention, or of hypocrisy in what is known, things out of our reach or cognizance, these come with reach of this prohibition. As this evil is too common, so it is of great malignity.” (p. 2373).

Talk about being hit between the eyes. Yes, perhaps I don't engage in directly saying evil about others, but how often to I insinuate, say something when I should say nothing, read into circumstances that which is not there, give interpretations when I don't know.

The thing which I think bothers me more is how often I try to conceal it from myself by couching it in terms of being informed, or honest, or "getting a complaint off my chest." To read Henry, I'm just fooling myself.

But isn't that the nature of so much of our ingrained sin - that we conceal it from ourselves by the excuses that we make? As the Apostle Paul said, "But if we judged ourselves truly, we should not be judged" (I Corinthians 11:31) (Although interestingly enough, the Greek is more to "If we discerned ourselves/judged ourselves correctly, we would not be discerned/judged). Did I judge myself honestly today -or hide my sin under a layer of intentional ignorance?

Roots

Today, as I was mowing and edging my lawn, I got to looking at the joint at the bottom of my driveway, the connection between it and the sidewalk. When it was built, they laid down this sort of brown filler, semipermeable, which occasionally picks up weeds which grow out of it. As I was in the pulling mood anyway, down I went.

Imagine my surprise when, in pulling out these seedlings, I pulled a root as long or longer than the plant itself! The other version was the root ball, where again the bulk of the roots were bigger than the plant itself.

Do I have that kind of tenacity? When the going gets tough, do my roots go down deep, perhaps deeper than myself? Or am I just on the surface, waiting for the next blade shovel to lop me off at the top and then I'm done?

Common Sense

Job security is a funny thing - especially in the industry I work in. It' s a well conceded fact that, unless you move around every 3-5 years, you are perceived to be in a position too long (unless you're senior management, of course). Companies rise and fall on the basis of their products, either succeeding (and often getting purchased) or failing (and falling apart), with employees wandering and reforming into new configurations.

I had had moderate faith until today that my company's leadership had sound decision making capacities. They had a game plan, they were following it up, and this hoped to turn the corner with a new avenue of business.

Until today, when I and my manager are arguing about something that seems so basic to understanding of how this industry works. The response we got was essentially "We're willing to take the business risk (based on what is in my opinion a silly philosophy) just so we can get it done. We'll deal with the consequences later - and besides, there are other checks in place to prevent bad things from happening".

And then you start running out the options: If this fails, it's likely the board would not endorse further actions in this direction, which would change the direction of the company. We would fall back on our primary business which, though profitable, definitely is not a real revenue generating tool. Not much revenue, not lots of perks - not lots of employees either, possibly.

It alarms me (and I don't really know why it should) that so often people whom I believe have the experience to know better, don't. It is a constant reminder that common sense is not all that common.

I've often said that operating at risk means that sometimes you fail. It surprises me how few individuals really believe that.

The Home Closet

So I reorganized my home corner last night. It was something that I had needed to do, and I finally had some time.

My home corner, for those that don't know, is the office that I had always wanted to have. Our fourth bedroom was already converted to an enlarged family room, and we did not buy in time to expand the single car portion of our garage into a room...so I have the back end of our walk in closet.

It has a desk that fits right in the slot (oddly enough, the desk I have had since the fourth grade) which gives me a work surface, and the three surrounding walls, which give me a place to hang things. Part of my frustration was that I was buried in clothes and general clutter - but that has been taken care of.

I need a work space, a work environment conducive to thinking and writing (and harp playing, as it turns out), and this is the option I have.

But having it clean and organized does give me a sense of both victory as well as of order. I have reclaimed my little corner of the house.

Now to use it.

Fog

In the after night
morning fog hems in the town's light,
lighting another dawn.

Mirror of my soul,
Fog floats across the moon's face
as thoughts crowd my heart.

A long motion in the same direction

There are moments in life where one pops up for air, looks around, and is suddenly overwhelmed by the sameness of the landscape. It's like driving on Interstate 80 through Nevada: Hills, scrub brush, a half dozen trailer parks with tumbleweed in their yard - look, a town! - hills, more scrub brush, how long until we get there...

It's a damnable, dull gnawing thing. One has much to be thankful for - far more blessed than one could have ever hoped - but yet there is a nagging feeling of the sameness of it all, a sameness in all one does and all one's relationships: I get up at the same time, I read the same things, I go to work the same way, I do the same thing, I come home in the same traffic, I go through the same routine at home, I wash the same dishes, do the same pre-bed activities, and off to bed I go.

Look it's another day.

It's at moments like these that I struggle to find God in my circumstances. I feel not so much abandoned as ignored, as if I've been put on cruise control. Moments of supernatural are few and far between, crushed out between the deadly dull realities like a daisy smashed between two paving stones.

It's also at moments like these that I find myself more and more wanting to throw it all away, to hit the road, to do the anti-dull routine thing, to be zany and crazy and wild and passionate and exciting - all the things that it feels like I'm missing. But then I get caught, thinking "But who will pay for, and what will be done about, and what will this look like...."

How does one resolve the incongruity of the swiftness of time and the slowness of living through it?

Morning Mist

Fog rolls off farm pond:
How hot must the moonlight be
to make it do thus?

Three Spring Haikus

Flags rustle gently
as the wind makes the trees roar
through which the birds sing.

Floating above death,
A spider constructs her web
As the spring rill flows.

As the sun sinks low,
A lone bee buzzes slowly,
Making its way home.

Easter Communion Meditation

This is the Easter Communion Meditation I will be presenting this Sunday, March 23.

If you would turn with me to Luke 22:14 – 20. Luke 22: 14-20. This represents one of the three gospel accounts we have of the institution of the last supper.

Read Luke 22: 14-20

I would draw your attention to verse 15. In the Greek, the words “With fervent desire I have desired” is only two words, Epithumia Epithumesa. The first word – Epithumia – is a word used to indicate a burning passion or desire. The same word is used to describe lusts or sinful desires, used by the Apostle John in 1 John 2:16 to refer to “the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh”, an overwhelming burning desire. The second word – Epithumesa – is the verb, indicated again a fervent desire – literally the two words mean “With fervent desire I have fervently desired”.

Think of it. For Christ, the end of His time on earth is here. He is on the precipice of suffering both physically through death and spiritually through separation from God. He will be beaten, mocked, spit on, lashed until He is a bleeding wreck, crucified, and die. He, the Sinless One, will suffer the consequences of the sins of all believers.

And yet, as the Apostle John writes, “Having loved His own, He loved them to the end.” He loves them so much that in spite of what is coming, He wants to share the founding of the new covenant first with them – it was burning desire within Him.

He no less fervently desires to share the New Covenant with us– the prospect of forgiveness of sin and everlasting life with Him, salvation instead of eternal wrath.

He gives them bread, symbolizing His broken body and juice, symbolizing His blood shed for New Covenant. He gives them the physical representation of what will spiritually be accomplished in less than a day.

On Easter Sunday, we commemorate the resurrection of Our Lord, and what was accomplished by His sacrifice and death on the cross. A brutal, painful, disgraceful punishment Christ, the sinless Lamb of God, bore for us, who could not pay the debt of sin nor merited His favour by any good that we possess.

Take the bread and the juice thoughtfully. Take them reverently. Is there a sin you need to confess? Is there some issue you need to work out before God? Do it before partaking.

Are you not a believer? If so, we ask you not to partake but to reflect upon what the sacrifice of the Son of God should mean for you.

Christ is risen – but in partaking of communion, let us not forget the sacrifice He has made on our behalf.

Let us pray.

Commuting

Rising and falling,
The moon floats over foothills
As I drive along.

What the market will bear

It was brought to my attention recently that perhaps I am expecting too much out of the relationships in my life. Part of it, to be sure, is my innate sense of fantasy and imagination, the wanting (in some cases, envisioning in my mind with no foothold in the real) of the very best, the most desirable.

But is this reality? Do I expect too much of friends, family, loved ones? Do I seek to place on them the weight of needs and expectations that truly only belongs on God?

If yes, then this is somewhat freeing - nay, is freeing. This should, in theory, mean that I can accept others for what they are and what they demonstrate they are capable of giving, not necessarily what I expect of them.

On the other hand, it is depressing and frightening. Those things which I imagined would improve might very well not. Those burdens that I bear that I thought would be lightened may not only not lighten, but increase.

Or is part of the issue as well those imaginings? From youth, I have had daydreams or fantasies (no, not of the sexual kind) of circumstances in which I am my best, I rise to the forefront, I am the conquering hero. As I have come to see, those do have a place - provided you use them as a point of reference and basis of achievement instead of just continuing to dwell in a sort of dream world. But have these things come to taint my ability to accept folks as they are (which I like to think I generally do) and dream of what they could - or should be? I know this is not true of all I have relationships with - but is it true of more than I realize?

Haikus

In the Spring pre-dawn
The chill breath of winter lies
atop a warm breeze.

River fog billows,
A translucent dark curtain
as orange moon smiles down.

People you don't expect in dreams

There is nothing more confusing or disconcerting than dreams in which unexpected people show up for reasons not clear to you when you wake up.

For example: Last night, I had a dream where someone whom I did not expect appeared in my dream. For some reason I was supposed to meet this person. We had a conversation, as I was apparently trying to convince them to come with me somewhere, which they acquiesced to. We drove in separate cars. When we arrived, the person got out of the car, and was apparently on the phone with some country leader - a prime minister, I believe - and was talking with them on the phone as I was walking with them, trying to have a conversation. The individual hangs up, we start to go around the side of the house, and a family member calls me about meeting for lunch. I speak with this person, who again seems somewhat reluctant to go to that restaurant.

And then I woke up.

The two things that nag me are: 1) What was the person doing there? It was not someone I would have expected; and 2) What was it about them that so made me desire to get their attention?

Awareness

There are those moments that overwhelm us, that lay our pettiness and our fears bare. They are not always well controlled - sometimes, they come unbidden of ourselves, but of conversations we have with others, the flicker of a petal on a flower, the off-taste broccoli that suddenly brings us back to food we were eating.

In some cases, it is a denial of what we perhaps know in our heart of hearts, but are afraid to admit in in the light of day.

In other cases, it is a willing admission of that which perhaps we should in fact keep hidden, but blurt out into the hidden darkness of others' souls.

How is it that such things rest so lightly with us, seeing that they have such power to harm or help? How is it that such pettiness, fears, and wrath lie within us, ready to spring forth only to work harm on ourselves or others? And how strange it is that all around us, others bear the same pockets within them?

Spring Moon

Buttery yellow,
The moon melts, gently sliding
across the March hills.

Reminders of Answered Prayer

So yesterday, the Ravishing Mrs. TB calls me over and says "Listen to the van when it starts." Sure enough, there's a sound, like something hitting something right when it starts. Ironically, I had received my bonus on Friday. Grumbling about expenses rising to meet income, we set up to drop the car off at our mechanic's today.

Which we did - after adding in a brake check, oil rotation, and tire change. I was muttering to myself as I drove everyone home in the Escort about how there was little enough for my own wants, but enough to cover these "emergencies".

And then it hit me tonight - a great deal hit me tonight:
1) The bonus came just in time to deal with this (along with our tax refund) - besides which we had the money to pay off one card and make a significant payment on the other.
2) It also gave us the funds to do things like fix the sewing machine, fix the Ravishing Mrs. TB's bike, and buy a new printer.
3) We also have a third car - The Fabulous Ford F250 - that we have as a backup instead of having to shuffle with one car.
4) Most amazing to me was the sudden realization that we had prayed for the Ravishing Mrs. TB to be able to quit the job she was doing last year to spend more time with the family. She did, on faith - and we have made more than we did with her working.

Who am I to complain about a little thing like a noisy van?

Shortcuts Make Long Delays

I had a dream last night which has started a rather reflective (and potentially depressing) thought process for a Palm Sunday.

In this dream, I was visiting someone I knew in grade school, someone that I have not seen for 25 years. Apparently, as part of my visit, we were reviewing a scrapbook he had made. His comment to me was "This is a look over the last 20 years of my life."

I woke up, but being that I had not slept well anyway, began to lay there in the early morning dark and began to make a mental comparison of the last 20 years. Let's see: 20 years ago (1988), I was in my second full semester at Humboldt State. My process of wandering had not started yet, but was about to accelerate.

Looking back over the intervening period of time was not much better. Yes, I know that 0430 is not the time to be thinking about anything of import (at least, not while you have had no sleep) because one magnifies the errors and minimizes the positives, but I am still hard pressed to explain all the things I did. In some cases, the errors of yesterday are finally being worked out and made right today (I'm a believer in the theory that in order to advance, you've first got to stop your direction, make a U-turn, and get back to point where you made the detour. Shortcuts across country to make up time lead to long delays.). But still, what might have been accomplished had those journeys which I took been replaced by things of greater worth (As Aslan says to a character in The Silver Chair in response to the question "May I know what would have happened if I obeyed?", "What would have happened? Child, no-one is ever permitted to to know that."

The good points and good impacts I've made are there as well, and I'm neither so foolish nor so arrogant to suppose that there are none. But I feel like Robert Murry McCheyne saying "Not a trait worth remembering! And yet these four and twenty hours must be accounted for." Time is going forward, not backwards - may the next 20 years leave me with less to regret and more to look forward to.

Growing Up

Nighean gheal and I had an interesting conversation on the drive up to The Ranch yesterday. It started by her asking why older girls didn't play with toys so much. I responded that I wasn't sure, but it was not as if they didn't play - they played sports, which was a form of game. She agreed, then asked why grownups didn't play and why some got serious and boring when they grew up.

I didn't have a really good answer to that - and I don't know that I do.

Why do we not play as adults? Why are we - let's be specific, I - so much like what my daughter points out, serious and boring?

I could make the argument that one has to be serious and "boring" as an adult, because of the responsibilities that one must undertake. But do responsibilities means a lack of fun and play?

I suppose I could also point out that I have "lost" that point of view as a result of life - but again, much of that loss was by my own choice. I craved to be thought of as an "adult" without thinking as to what all that entailed.

Christ Himself encouraged us to be "Wise as serpents and innocent as doves" (Matthew 10:17), and Pauls himself notes we are to use the time we are provided with wisely (Ephesians 5:15; Colossians 4:5). But wisdom is not the same as serious, and innocence in no was implies boring.

For those who say, "Well, if we were are all playful and not serious, what shape would the world be in?", the answer (not original to myself) is "What shape is the world in now?"

Is play, fun, and a zest for living in opposition to serious and responsible? Or is this a construct of my own mind? Perhaps the place to start is to determine what we take seriously, and why - or what will truly matter five years hence, ten years hence - indeed, eternity hence - and what is merely paper mache, which will have no impact beyond that of making us feel important rather than being of import.

Bees and Weather

I am always set at ease when I come up to the Ranch, a sense of sloughing off my concerns and problems to be surrounded by nature and thought. This time, beyond the anticipated green of oncoming spring, I had a second goal - check the bees.

The weather was not co-operative. Ideally, one wants a warm day, one in which the bees will be out and active (thus less in the hive). I hemmed and hawed as the cloudy day gradually overtook the sun, then broke down and took my chance.

The bees are fine. I only did the upper deep, as in removing frame I broke some of the burr comb which had larvae. The bees were active, larvae were present (indicating the queen was there at least five days ago), and honey and pollen were present. No sense in stirring things up more than necessary. I sealed them back in, their little black eyes and heads staring at me from between the frames.

And good thing that I did check them then. After that, the weather turned no better: it hailed, snowed, and rained, the sun never making more than a brief appearance, the blue sky currently just appearing as a bold blue slash among the gray clouds.

But even in this otherwise winter day, looking out over the upper meadow, I see a cheery patch of yellow daffodils peering through the bare branches of an oak, a single dead brown leaf waving back and forth, slightly blocking them then bringing them into sight.

Even as winter slowly goes, spring breaks through the background in glorious color.

Sunset at the Divide

Pink streaks amidst gray:
Orange and yellow embers shine
on brush green canyons.

Tilting at Windmills

Tilting at windmills,
My gift of spring is overcome
By commercial blooms.

Tilting at windmills,
My gift of commerical blooms
Is overcome by food

Good Morning!

Above grey cloud's head,
A morning star sings its song
As dark blue dawn waits.

Pink petals are out, white petals are in

In the gradual moving of the season, most of the pink petals - fruitless plums, I believe -are quickly blowing away in the wind. They are now being vividly replaced by white blossoms from other trees (of what kind, I have no idea). They have a characteristic odor of themselves, but are different in that they are mixed in among the leaves.

Spring is well nigh upon us - good from my point of view, as I am looking forward to the bees harvesting their nectar and pollen. Another fine example of a hobby changing how one views life: I cannot think of paying more than a passing attention to such things before, but now I notice them everywhere: the brilliance of the yellow wild mustard (it is everywhere on my commute now), the gentle pre-burst of the ornamental manzinita at our office park (which is good, as there is more manizinita at the Ranch, which makes for good honey - although I have always viewed the stuff as a fire hazard!), the brilliant green of the grass. It is especially scenic driving home from work (when it's actually light), seeing the yellow mustard swaying in the afternoon sun, framed against the emerald green grass amidst the brown trunks of grape vines, preparing their spring burst even now.

It is one of those moments where the entire creation sings in one glorious opening chorus to it's Creator - a strangely appropriate and moving thing in this Easter season, when we celebrate the victory of Christ over death and sin. It's as if, this year, creation raises up the reminder of new life after death even as it prepares for another year of fruitful living.

A Quick Morning Thought

How does one decide what one wants to be out of the plethora of possiblities of what could be?

Silence

A silent moment - one child in bed, two away, and the Ravishing Mrs. TB off at a class. It's unusual to have this during the evening. The only sounds I hear are the muted sound of traffic, the low buzz of my laptop as it operates, and an occassional bubble from the fish tank.

I like silence - actually prefer it, in many cases. It's good for thinking. It's also good for praying, reading, and simply being. It' s an overused cliche to say that we live in a noise filled society, but in some cases they are cliches simply because they reflect reality. From my car's road noise, even if the radio is off, to the din of an office, to the noises of a typical house with children, my day is filled with noise. And that doesn't include the things that we often add as background noise just to fill the silence: music, TV, even listening to the mindless blather of others simply to fill the void.

Perhaps we don't like silence because, deeply felt, it reminds us of the fears of dying - or perhaps it reminds us of the emptiness we have in ourselves. It just strikes me as odd that something so seemingly useful is abhorred by so many.

Sauerkraut and Lemonade

This weekend was one of those that involved working with the world: mowing and edging (my lawn as well as Nighean Dhonn's preschool), overseeding, and using some of what we grew: cutting cabbage for sauerkraut, making lemonade and orange juice from my in-laws lemons and oranges, shelling our corn from last year for culling, saving and planting (and cornbread).

There is something subtle yet satisfying - I don't know what - about using foods that you know were they came from, especially those that were grown by you. It is the satisfaction that, at some level, every gardener, livestock owner, farmer, or brewer/viticulturalist feels when eating their own food. It is the full end of the cycle: you, in concert with nature, helped to grow and raise this food. You known what went into it. You know where it came from. It is like earning a salary at the end of a pay period, but better - you can't directly eat a salary (but you can eat a celery purchased with your salary).

It is, I suppose, what calls people to garden or farm or raise grapes or rabbits or whatever: that call that I can work with nature and produce something of use.

Spring Haze

Under icy wisps
White puffs float above green wheat:
Snow on Sierras.

Two Haikus

Thinking to hear snaps
Pink petals feel damp and cool:
My dreams float in wind.

In spring time runoff,
White Heron stately searches
for lunch in brown lake.

Chasing DT

You do not know me,
nor would I wish you too,
as there is a certain joy in anonymity.
You are what I perceive as desirable,
or are you?
Do I mistake you for the thing that you represent,
the thing that I truly desire?
In seeking passion, do I confuse it with and settle for desire?

You do not know me,
but perhaps,
I do not know myself.

Spring

Pink snow waits, then moves,
as brown spindly clouds make more.
Look: Spring has Arrived

Agape

One thing that I have always found difficult about the concept of agape love is how does one keep it from becoming a duty, something one must do?

Agape, if you're not familiar, is the love that we as Christians are called to express to one another. It's the love Christ has for us. It represents a commitment of the will to do the best for the other person, regardless of how one feels. This is in contrast to the other 3 words for love in Greek - Phileo (affection), Storge (Easiest definition is the kind of love friends share), and Eros (Sexual love).

Agape, as the Bible defines it, is the love which is represented by Christ's love towards us: committed to sacrificing Himself on the Cross for the forgiveness of sins. He counted the cost - and went forward.

The struggle I have is that so often agape becomes like a duty. We do things because we made a commitment, because we are committed to the best for others, no matter the cost to ourselves. The point that always breaks over my head is "This is will - but where is emotion?"

At one time I used to be the proverbial "Hopeless Romantic" - at least until I was 23. Then, I had a really bad relational experience, one that left me personally embarrassed and heart. It's odd, but I time out my loss of "emotional romantic love" - that kind of gooey, breathless feeling - to that date. Doesn't mean I haven't had emotion, doesn't mean that I don't love the Ravishing Mrs. TB and the children - but it makes me I've lost something from time to time.

This plays into my first thought, as what at one time might have been done for emotion is now done as a choice of the will. The genesis may be very well different as well - wanting the good for the other, rather than how it makes one feel. The rub comes in that with the second kind, the payback is generally self evident in the process i.e. I give flowers, my wife responds, we have a pleasant evening. In the other place, one may well do something that it a good, and it goes unnoticed or unappreciated - yet in the benefit to the other, one chooses to do the loving thing. Yet without the immediate emotional payback, and continuing to do it, it becomes much more like something which must be done.

I don't have an answer - but sometimes I wonder, where that emotional romantic chap went to...

Thoughts on a Tree by the Road

On a gnarled branch
White blossoms float in sunrise:
Springtime in darkness.

Old Friends

Last night I had one of the pleasures that only comes occassionally in this life: introducing my good friends to each other.

We had a Leap Day Party yesterday. Amongst the participants were Uisdean Ruadh and Bogha Frois (As an added benefit, Bogha Frois brought L'Acadien with her). Bogha Frois actually arrived as most of the people were leaving, so we had another good two hours together.

There is simply nothing more delightful than introducing old friends to one another. You get to relive the stories of years and years and actually have someone that hasn't heard them. Generally, if they are your friends, you all have the similar tastes, so you can all laugh together. And as everyone knows, the old stories really are the best stories.

Is this a foretaste of Heaven? Will meeting those that have gone on in victory be the same, sharing stories of our Lord on the battlefield, all united in the love for and mercy of Him?

If it is this pleasurable on earth, what will Heaven be like?

The Obscure Answer to Prayer

So today I march out from work precisely at 3:00 PM, ready to hit the road. I open the car door, pull it shut with the loud finality of being done for the day, insert my key into the ignition, confidently turn it...

And nothing.

Yes, I think my ignition cylinder is shot (there is no resistance - it just turns). Here I am, 55 miles from home, and stuck.

I call the Ravishing Mrs. TB. She has a show tonight, so she need me to be home. How, I ask? My experience last month tells me that even if I call AAA, they may not tow me until the end of their shift. Try anyway, says she.

So I come back in dejectedly, trying to figure out what to do. Spend the night at a co-worker's? Borrow the company truck? Then I realize- a co-worker lives in the same city I do. Maybe he can give me a ride home.

I am blessed twice over - he can, if his supervisor will let him. His supervisor, perhaps noting the whining tone, invocation of my children home alone, and my groveling, agrees. He just has to finish up his task.

He comes at 4:15. I have a little concern, as I know traffic can be a bear, and leaving at 4:30 is a gambling proposition. But again, I am doubly blessed: my co-worker is a talker, and we have a great conversation all the way home; and there is almost literally no traffic. Even with showing me where he lives (about half a mile from me), we still get home in 80 minutes, which is good any time of the day.

Did I handle it as well as I might have? No, not really - I stressed out and ate, and I was a little short with the Ravishing Mrs. TB. Is the car fixed? No, it's still at work, and will have to be towed tomorrow.

God came through again - but as is so often the case, He not only provided, He forced me to take action to demonstrate and practice those things - patience, thankfulness, and kindness - that I have been praying to Him for.

Prayer Request

A prayer request for The Forty Five community (all three of you...) for Uisdean Ruadh. I spoke with him yesterday and he has need of your prayers. He learned last week that his daughter may be moving to a different part of the state with her mother. He's obviously wondering what to do - what he can do.

Pray for his peace and wisdom as well as peace and wisdom for his daughter and that, in all things, God's will would prevail

The Blue Funk

So it seems I'm in the midst of a blue funk. Why, you ask.

I haven't a darn clue.

It could be a multiplicity of factors: tired (I did not sleep well Sunday night); work (nothing big - just tons of petty items that weigh one down); family (probably not - we actually had a profitable discussion on our finances this week); faith (again, probably not); or something else I'm not aware of. The bottom line is I'm listless, not energetic, not optimistic.

Odd, because this is not at all my experience of the last three weeks, when I was feeling optimistic, on target, planning ahead, and hopeful. It perhaps is more noticeable to me now as the absence makes it clear.

I'll be frank - I don't like this. Which is odd, because hitherto, I would have largely defined myself as a pessimist, not a planner, and certainly not proactive.

How do you clear a thing you have no idea where it came from?

Criticism

One of the abilities of those who are able to succeed in life - whatever their role may be - is the ability to accept and profit from criticism. I firmly believe this. At the root of all criticism - even the seemingly truly underserved - is something which at least should be considered or contemplated, if not thought about, analyzed, and acted upon.

Criticism comes in many forms, whether useful (teacher's comments, employer reviews, anonymous feedback, the comments of friends, or true judges in competition) or not as evidentially useful (personal attacks, bad judges, anonymous feedback, third party critics).

So why can't I deal with it?

It's true. I struggle might with criticism, even the gently administered and contructive kind. I've gotten better, but I still intepret it as a form of personal attack (even from myself).

If I had to give the answer I probably don't want to, it's pride: that gnawing, biting sin that says that I am bettter than the others, that I am (in fact) virtually perfect, and hardly need the help of others (after all, what do they know anyway?). To be corrected, suggested, commented upon, edited, or otherwise receive input in anything but a positive way is not only an attack upon my performance, but upon me. After all, I'm the one whose doing these things.

The remedy? That most difficult of virtues, humility. Admitting one does not know it all, that one can learn from anyone and anywhere, if only we will take the time to do it. That one can always improve no matter what.

That I, even I, do not know it all.

Rain and Planets

Another rainy day - but with a home show in the house, this means I have been somewhat exiled (by choice, I assure you) to the back bedroom. Here, ensconced with wireless internet, a gray and cloudy day, hot coffee, and good music, I write. There is virtually nothing that could be more perfect (perhaps Wheat Thins and a good Cabernet Sauvignon, but I'm willing to tough it out...)

The music I am listening to is something I treated myself to this week, using a 20% off coupon at Borders: Gustav Holst's The Planets. I have enjoyed the work for many years (having been introduced to it in high school), and currently only had it on casette tape. The CD itself was inexpensive - $5.14 after tax. It's always amazing to me how some things which can bring so much pleasure are so inexpensive.

As I wrote earlier, one of the outcomes of my Lenten decision has been to listen to classical music daily as part of my commute. It has been a wonderful experience, one which I intened to continue with. In some small way, I understand why those who love the classics have such problems with modern music. Two things that strike me at once are dynamics - virtually no music produced today has such things - and the structure of the music itself. Chordal structure, themes and counterthemes - little to none do I hear of those today.

Does it helps one's mind think better, as some propose. I'm not sure - but it is certainly a delight to hear!

Stressed Out

So I've been stressed this week - mostly from work, but also from life in general.

What has been fascinating to observe - perhaps for the first time - is how I deal with the stress. Over the last month, I have been trying to establish some form of regularity and stucture to my life - a schedule of sorts, if you well. What I have found in the last 3 days is that when I get stressed, that structure goes out the window.

How? I eat - a lot. I choose not to do the activities that I have written down, but instead I am somewhat lazy and do the things which take the least effort. All in all, hardly a way to deal with it (and calorie rich as well).

Now the real question: why do I act this way, instead of taking positive action to address the causes of my stress?

If I had to think hard, my suspicision would be that I feel the stress in my life comes from items outside of my control; therefore, I revert to those few things that I feel I can control: what I do and when I do it. The odd thing is, this is partially right: the factors that are not in control can influence my life.

The wrong part is that I have no influence in return.

Dr. Stephen Covey (The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People) talks about 2 circles, one inside another. The inner circle would be labeled the circle of influence, the outer circle as the circle of concern. We cannot change the circle of concern directly, but we can change the circle of influence (these are things that we can affect). It is Covey's assertion that as we address items in our circle of influence, it will increase and our circle of concern will decrease and we will increase our ability to control factors in our life.

So back to my problem: I am stressed out at work.

Answer: What are the items I can control? In some cases, nothing can now be done about the past, but I can change the future of these items and programs. Instead of wallowing in my increased heart rate and Ritz crackers, why don't I try to do something to positively affect them? Write up a case study, see where the weaknesses are, prepare to address them?

What items are in your circle of influence? Do you know? Why aren't you addressing them?

Plans

There is something of a grim comedy at least in the sight of man, if not God, when the plans one has carefully set using forward thing and achievement goals suddenly hits reality, often times known as a brick wall. All of a sudden, all the carefully drawn up, year by year anaylsis one has done, the figures, the spreadsheets, is suddenly in jeopardy of being set aside.

The even more interesting thing (and more telling) is that these things appear to be due to circumstances beyond the control of you, the planner. It is at that moment, when you suddenly realize that your happy little bubble is in danger of not happening, that the sinking feeling of futility and depression set in.

How does one cope in these circumstances? The reality is, one has to get up and start the next day just like the last. Does that make planning bad? No, it holds a valuable place in organizing our activities and our life. It is only when the plan becomes the only way our life will work, that God steps in to remind us of how little we are truly in control of our own circumstances.

A Sign on the Side of the Road

Part of the joy - and frustration - of blogging is when things come to you and how suddenly a subject one was thinking about can change.

Witness - As I was driving home this afternoon, a sign on the side of the road for an industry which The Firm was in got me thinking about connections, and people I knew. I can honestly say that outside of my church family and my real family, I speak to no-one involved in the Firm. Haven't for 2 years now. All the agonizing over clients and their opinions, what partners thought of me, our vendors - everyone, gone with wind.

Which built on a theme I was thinking on last week, namely problems with my self belief (Jeffrey Gittomer - the man's a genius!), and one of the them was "People will think I'm stupid or will think less of me". The question I asked myself was of all the people I spoke to in my industry 10, 7, 5 years ago, how many do I speak to now? Answer: 1. In another 10 year, the likelihood that I will speak to any of the people I work with now? Answer: At least 1, maybe a few more. So why do I let the opinions and thoughts of others control me?

But isn't that the insidious pull of peer pressure, especially when we're younger (or not so young for some)? The pull of what others will think, say, or do in reaction to us causes us to do things that at a minimum can be silly or foolish, or at a maximum can be dangerous (and Lord knows I've done my share of both!).

Speaking as a Christian, how do I make the Audience of One more real than the crowd of many? How do I pay attenion to the only Person that really matters? How do I focus the appropriate amount of concern with the folks I am with, while not falling into the quicksand of pleasing them, or seeking their approval?

And more critically, how do I put this vision into my children, so that they can benefit from my errors?

Starting over

As part of my reading program this year, I am going through My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers. Chambers was a late 19th/Early 20th century (1874-1917) teacher and chaplain who died at the age of 43 while ministering to Australian and New Zealand troops in Egypt during World War I. It has been 15 or more years since I read the book, and I am struck (even as I am when I re-read other books) about the things that were there that I never saw before - or perhaps, were not so meaningful to me then. I am including the entire devotional for today's date, 18 February, as it speaks to what I have been mulling over recently, especially with the failure of the The Firm:

"TAKING THE INITIATIVE AGAINST DESPAIR

'Rise, let us be going (Matthew 26:46)'

In the Garden of Gethsemane, the disciples went to sleep when they should have stayed awake, and once the realized what they had done it produced despair. The sense of having done something irreversible tends to make us despair. We say, "Well, it's all over and ruined now; what's the point in trying anymore." If we think this kind of despair is an exception, we are mistaken. It is a very ordinary human experience. Whenever we realize we have not taken advantage of a magnificent opportunity, we apt to sink into despair. But Jesus comes and lovingly says to us, in essence, "Sleep on now. That opportunity is lost forever and you can't change that. But get up, and let's go on to the next thing." In other words, let the past sleep, but let it sleep in the sweet embrace of Christ, and let us go on into the invincible future with Him.

There will be experiences like this in each of our lives. We will have times of despair caused by real events in our lives, and we will be unable to lift ourselves out of them. The disciples, in this instance, had done a downright unthinkable thing - they had gone to sleep instead of watching with Jesus. But our Lord came to them taking the spiritual initiative against their despair and said, in effect, "Get up, and do the next thing." If we are inspired by God, what is the next thing? It is to trust Him absolutely and to pray on the basis of His redemption.

Never let the sense of past failure defeat your next step."

- Chambers, Oswald. My Utmost for His Highest. Ed. James Reimann. Grand Rapids, MI: Discovery House Publishers, 1992. Entry for February 18th.

A daily online version of the devotional is here.

Proto-Spring

We had an outing yesterday, partially because it was beautfil spring-like weather, and partially because the Ravishing Mrs. TB is sick of being inside with the winter.

We had a contrast of nature: at one end, we visited our local marsh, to which I've never been. Once you got into the marsh proper, it was beautiful in a kind of stark, isolated way, with the brown of the reeds and water plants interspaced with the browner water and black grebes diving for lunch.

One the other end, we walked near the edge of town near a park which connects the neighboring two cities. It was beautiful: the green grass, the wildflowers, the old orchard trees bursting both into bloom and into leaf. We climbed to the top of the hill, where this tree was located, and could look up into the greener hills west of us.

The more time I spend in nature, the more I can see the glory of God bursting forth, even as I see the subtle folly of those who have God without nature. With God, nature becomes the mechanism put into place by one more powerful than it, to be molded and protected and cared for by us. Without God, nature itself becomes god, something which must be worshipped, placated, and feared. With God, there is forgiveness and renewal. With nature as god, there is no forgiveness or renewal, just the constant placation of doing more, giving up more, all for the end of something which cannot save, comfort, or have a relationship with us.

But happily for me, I see the God behind the creation. I can look at the flowering trees, the green grass, the dead marshes, and in everything see His love and mercy and grace and creativity. Glory be that we should serve such a God.

Lent

I am now 1.5 weeks into my Lent experience. How are things going? Much better than I had possibly hoped.

The surrender of dessert has morphed into a great degree of control over my diet at all times. My waistline is testimony to it. I feel physically better, less stuffed, more in control.

The surrender of media has been even more powerful. I have, for the most part, not listened to any radio (talk or otherwise), read any written media, or wandered to my usual spots on the web. Again, the change has been fair more than I anticipated. It has given me more time on my drive - now I listen to classical music, pratice Japanese with CDs, or listen to motivational CDs.

My stress level has been cut to one I have not felt in years - which undoubtedly is for the better, as there were all over things I could not control anyway (thus proving the futility of worrying about that which you cannot control). It has helped my nailbiting immensely as well, as it seems to make me less prone to try to do the only thing I have to power to do. In general, I feel more peaceful, more thoughtful, and more able to address those things over which I do have control.

In both cases, these are things which, although started for Lent, seem to have enhanced my life to the point that I will gladly incoporate them into my daily practice - and after all, isn't that one function of introspection?

Tempus Fugit

Here's a thought from Seneca which made me think:

"Let us act on this, then, wholeheartedly. Let us cut out all distractions and work away at this alone for fear that we may otherwise be left behind and only eventually realize one day the swiftness of this fleeting phenomena, time, which we are powerless to hold back. Every day as it comes should be welcomed and reduced forthwith into our own possession as if it were the finest day imaginable. What flies past has to be seized at." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Letters From A Stoic, Letter CVIII

I know I've written on this before, but what struck me in this passage are two things: One is that we truly are powerless to hold back time. We can only preserve pieces of time in our minds, or increasingly in our media - think of a time when you've looked at a photo or video and are reminded of the happy (or not so happy) experience. The experience is captured, but we cannot hold the time that it encapsulated. So much of modern society is intent only hold time back through making our bodies appear as if no time had passed, or extending the periods of time that we enjoyed most. But even these are small lies (but not harmless) that we tell ourselves.

The second thing is his assertion that what flies past must be seized at. The simple fact is that this is true. Given my own inclinations, I would scarcely have any interest (and have) in doing the things that I need to do or should. And time, like an express train, is happy to pass by my little station and continue on. It's only when I grab it and bend it to what needs to be accomplished that it true is useful - although grabbing it and using it is not always equivalent to being busy.

One of my closet fears for many years has been that I was not using my talents and gifts to God's glory. I'm coming to appreciate that not only this true, but it is also true of the time that He has given me and each of us. Some person much wiser than myself has said that God gives us enough time to accomplish what His task is for us. If we only have enough time for that, we can scarcely count on having the luxury of wasting any of it.

Writing Update

So, you ask, what is the writing update, Mr. "I'm found my life quest and it's to be an author? You haven't mentioned anything after your brief burst of activity. Where's War and Peace?"

Well, that's a fine question. Part of the issue has been simply figuring out what to write. Guess what: I'm an essayist. I can write self contained works about particular subjects or topics (like this blog). I'm not so much a novelist - but that is more a failure of me not trying and training myself, than of me not being able to do it. Writing a novel, so far I've found, takes a lot of patience - something I am working on mastering.

Which leaves essaying, which is somewhat more difficult to get published, I think.

Ah, but you ask, the book. What about the book?

Let's be fair. It's really just a manuscript - Taking God Seriously: The Question of Obedience. I have had it manuscript edited once by a gentleman who was very kind with his time and his suggestions. Still, it's short - maybe 25 pages max, more of a devotional (again, think essays) than a book.

Part of my writing struggle, then, is finishing the job. I want to go on to something new, but in reality I need to finish what I started.

Which leads to people reviewing the work, which leads to how I deal with criticism.

Which, it seems, leads to a next posting on the matter.

Valentine's Day Dinner

Today, to celebrate Valentine's Day, my promotion, and Nighean bhan's movement to the final of the speech meet, we went out to dinner to Japanese.

We have not been out in quite a while - certainly nowhere like we used to (not that, in fact, we probably ever really had the money). It was all of us: myself, the Ravishing Mrs. TB, Nighean gheal, Nighean bhan, and Nighean dhonn.

The thing that struck me most was that it was a really pleasant evening. There was no fighting, no complaining. We ordered Agedashi tofu - and all three girls had some and liked it (I was especially surprised by Nighean gheal, as she is not the adventurous food type). They happily ate the teriakyi chicken, tempura shrimp, and rice. No one was too loud - not even Nighean dhonn. I got Agedashi tofu, gyoza, edamame, and sashimi, so I was happy. The ravishing Mrs. TB got good Japanese food, a night away from cooking, and a pleasant meal to boot, so she was happy.

It is these moments that make one hopeful as a parent - the ones which, I find, are the hardest to keep in mind when things are not going well: that all the hard work that goes into raising children right will pay off, that family times can be done with pleasantness and happiness, and that (hopeful) are children are going and growing into everything we hoped they would be.

Seasonings

I'm struck how more and more I notice and enjoy every season. This seems to be a development as I am getting older - for which I am grateful.

As a child, it seems to me the seasons are either good (i.e. sunny and we can play, or snowy and we can play) or not. It's only as one grows and begins to notice things around one that every season begins to really appreciate each of them.

For example, for some time I've noticed that autumn sunlight is different from all other seasonal sunlights. I'm not sure why - there's just a softness in the light, a diffuseness, that seems to hit around mid-September and is gone by mid-October.

Or the occassional breaks - like today, when it was 70 F outside where last week it was bitter cold, with the green grass and black and white cows grazing in the pasture behind work. The sky is a brillant blue - a spring blue, early but there.

Or the bees - February is almond blossom month, and bees are already in the fields. They're buzzing around their hives, but I see no blooms. What are they getting? Or even our bees, brining in their loads of yellow-brown pollen. I see no flowers - but something is blooming.

There is beauty in every season, from the cold and rainy of winter to the hot and stifling of summer. It's all there -it's just that I never saw it before.

Gratefulness

It's amazing to me how positively ungrateful I can be to God.

I am sitting here today at home, as the Ravishing Mrs. TB has been under the weather for a week, not seemingly getting much better. I have a job such that I can call my boss and say "I need to stay at home and take care of my wife" and not have a second thought about, a job where I got promoted recently and have had salary increases and bonuses, a job that at times is enjoyable (except when I want to pluck my eyes out in frustration), a job which, given everything above, allows me to sit here on an late winter day and write at home, knowing that everything is going okay and work AND that I'm still getting paid.

All of this, and then I let a stupid thing drag me down being ungrateful.

Yup. It's the Firm again. Just doing my typical "I'm bored so let's see what's up" search. Turns out it's moved to Sacramento. Dig in a little farther, and turns out the clients we could never close closed on a property - $6.2 Million. $124,000 at 2% comission.

And there goes my gratefulness out the door like a cat making a run for the outside - and getting my tail caught almost all the way through.

What is in me that can't let these things go? What is in me that makes me so ungrateful? I remember the days and nights without pay, the racking nervousness (in one case, we were out in Atlanta with clients, arrived having literally less than $1,000 in the bank, trying to get the escrow officer to fund to our account prior to checking in), the "stay home, don't get paid" scenario.

A failure, you say? Funny, I've been doing an exercise of dealing with my lack of confidence or belief in myself, and one of the items is "Everything I do fails". The remarkable thing is, with only one exception - the Firm - I am hard pressed to think of another failure of note in my life.

No, what bugs me is the not knowing. Let's call it unforgiveness, as that is what it really is. It's the feeling of not understanding why one is no longer spoken to, only that it is so. Pride as well - pride to the extent that I won't make any move (Ironically, it's two years this month since we spoke) - as I was the aggrieved one (in my mind).

So, in the spirit of making things public and dealing with them, I hereby cast aside and disavow all knowledge and concern of the Firm. How it does, is not relevant.

How grateful I am for the graces and gifts in my life, is relevant. To ignore what is in hand for a wisp long gone is as foolish as it is unproductive.

Snow and frogs

In the shade of pines

icy snow sheet lingers on:

Frogs chant their spring joy.

We traveled the Ranch this weekend, the girls and I (once again, the Ravishing Mrs. T.B. was out of town). It had been some time since I had been there, and I wanted to check the bees (see update below).

As we pulled into the turnoff for the Ranch, I noticed a leftover patch of snow from the storm we had last week. I pointed it out to the girls, and they were very excited. As we drove in, we saw other small patched, hiding in the shade or in the low places.

When we reached my parents, to the left, down the hill in the deep shade by the pump, was a long sheet. Great excitement ensued amongst the girls. As they ran in, I was struck by the contrast: a sheet of icy snow on my left, to my right frogs madly croaking out their spring melody in the relatively warm evening. Two things I had never imagined together before my senses.

This morning, the girls wanted to go down to snow, and wanted me to go to. The snow, as you will imagine, was hard and granulated, frozen and refrozen - Nighen dhonn was not even heavy enough to break the crust. However, the recrystalization and the sun literally did cause a thousand diamonds to sparkle wherever I looked. It was magical and wonderful.

Again, later in the day, as I came up from the beehive as they bore their early spring loads of pollen to the hive, the Lower Meadow was filled to the point of loud with the songs of frogs, seeking mates - even as to the left, the girls ran through the snow, a memory of winter, one last time.

God's creation is more mysterious, more beautiful, and more astounding than we can ever imagine.

Bee Update

Today's Bee Report: In a staggering demonstration of God' s nature working as it should, the bees have made it through the winter! I checked them out today, and there was evidence of the winter cluster, lots of bees, honey, and lots of activity! I was loathe to check more deeply for fear that I might disturb what's going on (it's still got the chance to go cold), but everything looks good! Later in the day I checked, and workers were returning with their pollen baskets full. I figure that if we can make it about another month, until spring arrives, we should be in the clear - with the manzanita bloom ahead of us!

Droplets of Heaven

This afternoon, Nighean dhonn came up and sat next to me in the chair as I was writing. She just scooched up as she often does with her baby in arm after I carried her out of her crib. I covered her up with her pink blanket, and there we sat for a few minutes, she leaning against me as I continued to write. I occassionally leaned over and kissed her head, which has remarkably smooth and soft hair.

And then, she was done. She hopped down and went over by the couch and the stereo, where now she is moving the Puppies in my Pocket up and down, lining them up as apparently they play some game, then carrying them over to the table, where they collapse in a heap until she puts them in the castle.

How rare and precious these moments are, when someone we love will just sit with us and be quietly content - and also how rare it is that we as the receipient of such moments recognize what they are when the happen. They are droplets of Heaven, gifts made by the hand of God, a foretaste of what Heaven will be like.

Who am I to deserve such joy?

Time

Item 1: Today we had a phone interview for a position within our department. The interview was scheduled for a half hour; we were 10 minutes late in calling, and by the time the interview was over we it was 30 minutes past the original half hour. The result, after running late from work and sitting in traffic for two hours, was that we decided he was probably was not a keeper.

Item 2: Last night I managed to get everything done on my list. In order to do this, I ended up staying up 45 minutes past the time I need to be in bed, and continued not getting better and being run down - but I got everything I wanted to get done done.

The question is time, or not enough of it. Time, it has been said (and if not, it now is, by me) is the currency of life: it is ours to spend or waste, but it can only be spent once. It is in a limited supply, but we never know how much is in our account. It can be saved, but it cannot be stockpiled to use at a later date. It has a sense of speed or"dropping slowness" which is only partially controlled by us.

One of my realizations in the last 3 years has been how truly little time we have. All the things that I would like to do, that interest me, are wedged between the things that I need to do and accomplish. Yet what I am finding is that my time continues to become squeezed, and I can either start to crush my physical health and mental well being by being constantly sick and tired, or I can continue to pare away to get at the things that are very important.

Some people say manage your time; some people say don't manage it but invest it. Either way, what we are really doing is making choices of how to use our time in the best sense possible for the greatest benefit possible.

This is one reason I probably don't watch scads of TV, whether shows or sports: I can't stand the though of spending 2-3 hours in front of the TV doing nothing, when there is so much I feel that I need to accomplish.

So this weekend, I'll get out the planner, look at what I've done, and make the hard decision of what else won't get done this year, so that the more important things can.

It wrenches my heart to give something up - but it wrenches me more to live the time I have always exhausted, never doing any few things well but many things poorly.

An Old Acquaintance

I'm getting reacquainted with an old acquaintance -Lucius Annaeus Seneca (more commonly known Seneca, 4 B.C. - 65 A.D.). His bio is here. Among other things he wrote (plays), he wrote a series of letters (124 in all) which were seemingly written to an imaginary friend (Lucilius), but which seem to have never been sent to anyone but rather serve as a series of essays on issues related to Stoicism and commentary on life. A series of interesting quotes from what I read today:



"Nothing can be well regulated if it is done at a breakneck speed" - Letter LX

"No-one should feel any pride in anything that is not his own" - Letter XLI

"And how can people be called back to spiritual well-being when no-one is trying to hold them back and the crowd is urging them on?" - Letter XLI

"And there's no state of slavery more disgraceful than one which is self-imposed." - Letter XLVII



And his writing is just full of them. The complaint by his contemporaries was that he failed to live up to the ideals of Stoicism; but the writings alone are food for thought. The joy of reading such a thing (of which, I suppose, this blog is a dim echo) can hardly be imagined.



Go ahead. Pick up a Seneca, a Tacitus, a Polybius, a Plutarch, a Xenophon or Thucydides, and find out both how little mankind has changed and how most "new" ideas have been around a long time.

Parallel Universes

Did you ever have one of those moments where suddenly you realize that you and a loved one - spouse, friend, parent - are living in separate yet parallel universes? You share the same experiences, eat the same food, fold the same laundry, yet beneath the surface you suspect (not sure, of course) that you're looking at things completely differently?

Why is this? Is this a result of a modern life that does it's best to keep us apart from loved ones, so that the time we share together is almost by default and by silent agreement kept on an even keel, if for no other reason we fear to waste it in seemingly fruitless arguments? Or is it less lofty: we just don't think the other person shares our views, so why bother?

I know for myself, I often completely get wrapped up in seeing aspects of the situation that I think exist, pondering them over and over, working out scenarios in my mind - only to have them torn apart by the fact that the other person is seemingly unaware of the same thing (which raises another question: Did the thing ever exist? Or was it just in my mind?)

How does one crack this rind and get to a deeper level of knowing? Conversation alone will not carry the day - one can speak all day and say precisely nothing. Focused communication then, but focused how? Focused on what?

Post Lux, Tenebris

There are always layers of ourselves we never penetrate, dark corners of the soul that we never choose to look at, flaws like crevasses that we choose to cross over on the single file bridge, never looking down for fear of what we will see.

How much of this is by self choice? Are we truly so willing blind to our own failures and wickedness that we will not look? How much will selfish intent cover in the name of doing good to others and ourselves?

"The unexamined life is not worth living" said Socrates. But what if that self examination reveals us for the fools, cowards, and evildoers that we are?

Lent

Lent starts this week - a rather unusual holy season in much of the evangelical church, simply because it really isn't one, at least not in the way that it is observed by the Catholic and many Protestant churces.

Which is a shame, because it seems to me that a prolonged of meditation, denial, and consideration of the sacrifice of Christ is something that so often I hear that we need from evangelical pulpits. It is often abandoned, I suppose, as a rejection of clericalism or churchianity or man-made religion - and often it is only performed as these. Again, it probably doesn't fit into the flow of expository preaching, being more suited for a church calender.

But there is no sense of building up to Easter, to the pinancle of the Salvation story - we just sort of arrive all of a sudden.

I was challenged some years ago in my reading (by whom, I'm now forgotten) that we should not only give up physical things (sugar, alcohol, TV, etc) but mental and spiritual things as well (criticism, gossip, any number of sins).

In years past I've given up the simple, like soda and dessert (not easy, especially as girl scout cookie season and birthdays fall between here and there). This year, along with the physical (we'll try desserts again, limiting it to the two birthdays I know fall between here and there) and spiritual (saying anything negative about anyone - should cover both criticism and gossip), I think I'm going to give up current events.

The Anchoress (a fine writer) turned me on to a version of this idea (taking a break from politics during Lent). I almost never write about politics here, as I've found it seldom does any good and only creates barriers to the truly important realities of life (not saying they don't matter, just not in my writing). Current events is probably more applicable, as I'm a great worrier, and will constantly scan the news, looking for bad news or trying to chart future events.

So, after Tuesday, I'm not going to scan for current events. This will cut out my reviewing of a host of websites, and listening to virtually any radio I listen to for 40 days. For the surfing time, I'll replace it with writing, with Scriptures, and with prayer. For driving, I'll replace it with classical music.

Let's see what happens.

Rainy Day Afternoon

Today is one of those good rainy days, where:

1) I'm not at work;
2) I don't have to drive home;
3) I'm at home;
4) I don't have a great deal to do;

so I can indulge in the luxury of sitting in a chair, drinking a warm beverage, and contemplating.

I'm actually one of those who prefers winter above all other seasons of the year - not so much for the cold, but for the rain (I love to watch the rain, I love the sound of the rain) as well that it makes it much more reasonable to sit down and do things like read or write and not feel I should be out doing something else (let's face it: if it's wet and windy, I can't!).

A great time to plan too, although it's something I probably don't do as much as I should. I have new catalogues from Mann Lakes and from Peaceful Valley (see links at right) for beekeeping and farming that need to be looked at. I already planned my February reading. I could still stand to do some other things: Financial planning, more goals work, writing.

Or, like I probably will do, I'll just sit here and watch the rain.

Cailin a' sgiathe

Cailin a' sgiathe

Sometimes when the sense of desire
Rises like a mighty pyre
Burning golden in the night;

Pushing out all that is real,
Making off as if to steal
That which has been given freely;

Caught between two circumstances,
Engaging in two different dances:
One made of stone and one of ash;

Help me, O Lord to see beyond,
this present as a smallish pond,
and see eternity's might sea;

And bring to rest my wandering soul,
Make me one more time quite whole,
Turn ash to dust, and stone to earth.

"Non vereor ne illam me amare hic potuerit resciscere;
quippe haud etiam quicquam inepte feci"

Whack-a-Goal

God whacked me over the head - again - today.

1) He reminded me "I am going too quickly". Again, something came up at work today where I went too fast, moved too quickly. I think God is reminding me - again - to slow down, do one thing at a time.

2) God also reminded me through this - again - that what He wants and what I want can be two different things.

Where do I get the idea that God has asked me to do all the things that I think he has - or at least put on my list for Him?

Where do I get the idea that He has has called me to other than where He has me right now?

I only have so much time - and I cannot slack on my true responsibilities to whcih He has called me: husband, father, child of God and ambassador of Christ; death to self, denial of self, consecration of self, sanctification of self. These are goals that Scripture calls out - the rest, the things I wrote down, may be, but they're only of secondary importance.

The Gap between Reality and Fantasy

I have been thinking much lately about the gap in my own life between the dream life - call it imaginings - and the reality of what it is. I think everyone probably has some level of this, from the very simple dreaming of a better physcial circumstance to those who have created whole fantasy lives online through online gaming.

There is some inherent element as well to the documented "Peter Pan Syndrome", a general term which covers the fact that it seems that many people have a form of extended adolescence, living in a sort of world where one extends being a teenager by 10, 20, or 30 years.

For myself, I think that the imaginings and the worlds that exist within them are more a reaction to the life that I am in - the very things that I imagine and see are seemingly the very things that I cannot control or feel powerless about in my own life.

The concern is that these things start to become more real than reality itself.

If you were ever a hopeless romantic, you know well of what I speak: the girl whom you liked in high school (you never had a date), who was nice to you once or twice, on which experiences you built this whole construct in your mind about "What would it be like?...", never knowing (or knowingly ignoring) the fact that they 1) Really didn't seem to know you existed; and 2) Were in practice very different from what you had imagined.

And then there came that point - that point always comes - where your imagined relationship hit the rocks of reality, and you ended up floating to shore (again) on the wreckage of your dream, spitting seaweed and sand out of your mouth - yet already seeing the next ship of dreams in your mind.

It happens with relationships, jobs, finances, conversations - almost anything where there comes a gap between what you thought and what you have.

My question is: Are my desires to much, or are they too little? If I am imagining about things that are not in my life, are there elements I can bring in? Is one doomed only to dream, and never to experience?

Pleasing People

I was confronted today by the fact that I am a people pleaser - not in the typical way I think of it, a sort of greasy obsequiousness, but wanting to "go along" and help others - to the point of not doing what I really should be doing.

Why? My excuse in the past has been that I want to meet the needs of my clients/customers/authority figures, and the way to do that was to do my job and run my life in such a way that I would be continually get their approval - be the guy that everyone thought "was useful and helpful and darn funny."

That changed today.

It was pointed out to me in doing something which I thought was innocuous - a document which was being revised, but which in point of fact had been revised some time earlier. This revision had become lost and was now off someone's desk. I, to move it through the system, looked at it, saw it was filled out properly and marked up accordingly, and sent it on. I got read (very gently) the riot act.

So no more.

In my life, I am not as attentive to detail as I should be, being a member of the "good enough" club. That will change.

At work, I always try to find a way to work things so that they work out, a go along-get along sort of philosophy. Again, that changes today. I will review each thing thoroughly in turn. I am trying to be liked by people, instead of doing the job for which I was hired.

I have to fix this. No more stupid mistakes.

Knowing When To Go

There are times that I wish that we were wired like geese and salmon - that when the time to make a change or go somewhere else was upon us, we would just know it.

There is a sense in which I often struggle with making a decision - not just the fact that I often feel that I have made bad ones (which can be debated, I suppose, at a later date), but that I worry that I am making the right one - the one God want me to make.

Which is somewhat remarkable of itself, because if left unchecked that essentially become soothsaying - looking for signs in the stars, flights of birds, and sheep's livers for an indication of action to take.

Gary Friesen, in his book Decision Making and the Will of God, divides decisions into moral and non-moral. The non-moral - those not directly informed by God's commands and precepts - are those that He leaves to us, so long as we break no moral laws in doing so.

Is it that I am uncomfortable with this level of responsibility - or possibility? Am I looking to have God as my "escape hatch", my ability to say "I didn't really do that myself - it was God"?

How do I merge God's omnipotence and control of every aspect of the universe with my responsibility to choose (and yes, I know wiser minds than I have dealt with such - and failed)?

How, I really suppose, does one grow up and not continue to list the same things in one's goal list and "should do" list year after year?

Old Planners

Tonight, as part of my goal to incorporate some forward thinking and planning into my life this year - thinking time - I was going to work on long term goals. As I did, I thought I had done something like this before, so I reached over to pull out some of my old "Daily Planners".

My planners are not typical Daytimers. They are usually accounting books, which I have subdivided into various weekly and daily lists, mission statements, goals, quotes, and sundry materials. I have gone to smaller ones, I guess out of expense or wasted pages (I've yet to fill one up).

Methinks I'm going back to the larger books next year. In looking through my older ones (2003, 2004) a wealth of things jumped out at me, most which I had forgotten: copies of my checks from real estate, life planning emails, the quotes, e-mails from work or friends that were inspiring.

Oddly enough, most of the goals are the same as they are today (Lesson: I'm writing them down, but not really acting on them).

But I see the wisdom in keeping and referring to them. They show where you've been, they show what you've accomplished, and they show what you still need to do.

And make sure that they are physical (no electronics, please!). It destroys the ability and joy of going back and remembering.

Life Change

So I'm in the process of considering a life change - something drastic, something I've done before. And I'm finding I'm not all that enthused about the opportunity.

Enthused, I suppose, in the sense that although I want a change, both the thought of arranging to make the change as well as the change itself are almost burdensome to me. Which means one of two things: 1) I'm lazy, or 2) I'm not really interested in the change.

Part of it, I suppose, is that I have made changes like this in the past, and I know what the outcome is: yes, you reap some different benefits of the change, but in reality, in 6 months things will be largely as they were before.

Part of it too is that I have had a habit of changing almost randomly, which usually works out for the best - but at some point, you have to stay in things for the long haul. One can't change anything every few years - churches, relationships, houses, jobs - without it eventually creating a sense of disconnectedness with the thing in question.

My father lived in the same house for 30 plus years, had the same job for 32, and is still married to my mother (40+, of which we are all quite happy). I know he didn't always enjoy the job, and I'm sure wanted a bigger house from time to time - but that certainly gave me a sense of belonging somewhere. It also, as I look at it now, should serve as an inspiration to be diligent and focused in my career - again, I'm sure there are many days my father did not want to get up and go do the same thing over again, and again, but he did. Now, he reaps the rewards of it.

Change is not always what it was cracked up to be...

Cornucopia

- Here's a thought: I wrote 569 words tonight for a book draft. The Nebula Award of the Science Fiction Writer's Association considers a novel to consist of 40,000 + words. If you divide that by an average of 500 words a day, that's only 80 days to writing enough for a novel!

...and, that doesn't include the 2200 words I wrote for a back story since Sunday...

- The bees will be coming. How do I know?: The bill went in and we were charged. I am hopeful within the next month to go see our current hive, to (hopefully) ensure that they are still alive.

- Last week, I worked two days, got sick two days with the flu, and then had car troubles the last day (so I didn't make it into work). I had really been trying to change what I did and how I did it, to make a new start this year. I felt really discouraged - physically and emotionally. Then today, I wondered: is it an indicator I was really doing too much, or was it an immediate challenge to test my commitment.

- Finally, keep Bogha Frois in your thoughts and prayers. She has to write her application for an advanced study program, and she's having a bit of difficulty (and I'm sure she'll appreciate all of you keeping her honest...).

Focusing

So I think I've finally figured out what I want to do with my life. Which is kind of scary - because it represents making a decision, committing to a end, ignoring other decisions, even (gasp) publically discussing what your decision is.

It may even mean having some self confidence in myself.

What kind of brought me to this decision making process is the realization that I have been doing what I am doing, literally the very same thing at different companies, for 6.5 years. Simply put, I'm tired of it. And just switching companies will not change it. I need to switch careers.

At the risk of opening myself up to scads of criticism, I want to be an author. I want to be a successful author. I want to support myself from writing.

Can I write? Yes. Can I write a novel or non-fiction book? I need a lot more training on how to write (which is a subagenda in itself, dealing with pride and the willingness to learn and open myself up to criticism).

I cannot stomach the idea of spending the next 10-20 years doing what I do not care for or love (especially the document processing - I hate document processing!).

So the choice is made. Now to execute.

Gardening and Life

I had an epiphany today - one of those things that just happens, and then you realize the significance of it.

I was out in back, trying to be proactive in doing some work on New Year's Day prior to the rains hitting this Thursday. One of the things I did was prune back a Lavandula stoechas (Spanish Lavender) that has overgrown the retaining wall. I have no experience pruning, and have always been afraid of doing it for the fear of doing it wrong or killing the plant. But, it really was overgrown, so in I started.

And it hit me, as I was going through the first cuts, that I had done this before on the Lavandula dentata next to it. I was forced to last spring - it had died back, so I had to prune it back hard. Now, as I look at is, it has come up as I need it to, inside the retaining wall.

This is what it is to prune: to cut, seeing in your mind the end result even as you trim away the reality right now. Gardeners and garden designers who are truly successful do this all the time; the rest of us just stumble along.

Like gardening, so life. It seems especially appropriate to me that this discovery was made today, the day for traditionally setting goals. Those who are truly successful in their goal setting see the result as already existing, and then do the tasks necessary to grow into that space.

It's pruning with a purpose, see the end plant from the tangle in front of you.

So my challenge to myself is see what it is I want to be, and start the pruning and shaping process to get there.