The Speed of Travel and Civilization

Over the past few months I have been reading histories of travels:  Alexander's March across the Persian Empire, the back and forth wars of his Successors, the Siege of Vienna in 1683 by the Turks, the events leading up to the First Afghan War in 1841.

What comes across in all of this history is the amount of time it took to get from one place to another.

Alexander's troops marched everywhere they went -in some cases they were gone from their homes 11 years, almost always marching east until they turned back.  The Turks had to move their armies from Constantinople and the heartland to Eastern Europe and thence to Austria-Hungary; the amount of time it took to move them played into the available time they had to invade - and from the European Allies point of view, the amount of time it took King Jan Sobieski to march his army from Poland to Vienna.  And in the years leading up to the First Afghan War the travel the information gatherers of the East India Company made to gather information and then to return the information to the headquarters in Calcutta, where it was then transmitted by ship back to England and thence to the Board and the Government.

Distance and time.  Always distance and time.

We take this for granted of course.  It is a small thing for me to climb on a plane and in four hours fly the 1900 miles back to Old Home - or even to drive it in 27 hours if needed.  In 8 hours I can be in Europe, in 16 hours I can be in Asia.  Distances that took months and possibly even years to travel are now done in the relative blink of a day.

We take this for granted - and so we assume that it will always be this way, that it will take little to no time to go distances.  Governments and economies assume this as well, that goods and services and even weapons and enforcement can be transferred easily and quickly.

But what if this were to go away?  What if the nature of the movement of people and things were to reduced to what it was a little over a hundred years ago (not all that long in the scope of civilization).

4 miles an hours was considered a good pace for a healthy man; the Roman Army considered a day of 40 miles a hard one (based on the weight of not only the men but of the equipment they carried).

It is good to ponder the fact that much of what all believe they can do today is based on the speed of transport. It is also good to consider that, like most pieces of civilization that we have today, it is a fragile thing that if interrupted would quickly turn things awry.

2016 Goals

My 2016 Goals have almost all not put themselves in place.

Many of them are simply an extension of ongoing things which I have put into place from previous years and a couple are some which are seemingly recurring holdovers from previous years.

Financial related goals hold a big part this year (given the current and potentially future economic climate, no real surprise there).  My language and Iai figure prominently as well.  Next year's book is included.  A number of physical goals, extending my endurance runs and highland athletics.

Career goals are fairly straightforward:  another certification and either a new position or a new job.  The certification is doable for sure, the position or job can only be worked towards.

A couple of God related goals, really in the area of finally nailing down membership in a church (we are sort of splitting our time between two) and involvement therein.  A dedicated push towards meditative quiet time as well.    For family, a family vacation - something we have not formally done in a long time.

Ichiryo Gusoku goals?  There are four:
- Second Career:  Practice Harp and make an income
- Garden:  Plant Mandarin Trees, Develop container and Strip Gardening, Grain Gardening for Spring
- Cheese:  Identify and master four cheeses for production.
- Quail:  Hatch and raise quail

The gardening is in some ways the most difficult of the four.  I have never been a very successful garden.  Part of it is due to the fact that (except for many, many years ago before we moved) I had ideal sun and soil which have never been replicated since we moved.  I usually get a few things that grow well as I have figured them out over the years - garlic of course, and peppers, and black eyed peas - but never the variety or amount that I want to achieve.  My hope is by getting a smaller area I can lavish more time and attention on them.

If I can accomplish all of them - and they can all be accomplished - we will end the year in a far stronger and more reliant position which we started it it.  Which is very much what I am shooting for.

On Publishing Another Book.

So I published another book this week.
I have come to the point that I never really know what to make of this moment.  On the one hand it is big accomplishment and a goal that I set for myself which is now completed; on the other hand I wonder how much difference it is really going to make.

I have sort of given up the idea that somehow I am going to be a professional writer.  This was sort of disappointing but the sales of my books (I have seven now) have convinced me that this is not really the sort of thing that is going to happen for me.  Yes, there is always that outside chance that I will become a new undiscovered writer, but my writing is such that I am not mainstream enough to ever really be discovered.

So pretty much I write for my own pleasure and in the hopes that I will do some good for someone.   Yes, occasionally someone will buy a book and I will get that sense of having accomplished something but it is few and far between at this point.  Trust me, I am hardly getting rich at this.

How many more will I write?  I have one more definitive book that I am working on, in a sense my magnum opus for this genre that I am writing in.  After that, a compilation of my shorter writings is doable (I have written enough to make a book of them).  And after that?  I am not sure. I will have done what I originally set out to do, which was to publish a book (and more than one).  I will have (probably) found out that I am not a writer, or at least not a self supporting one.  Lesson learned, goal achieved, and move on.

Will I continue to write?  Certainly. It is a good exercise in many many ways, not the least of which is pushing one's self to a daily discipline of writing and (hopefully) some self discovery along they way.

But that is what is is and will be - a voyage of self discovery and documentation.  The other dream, it seems, is gone.

But I can always now say that I am a published author.

Office Politics

I am just not cut out for office politics.
I am neck deep in them again, People jockeying for position, professional pride hurt, loss of face invoked.  People are stressed and when they become stressed they become sensitive and when they become sensitive,  comments and situations which could otherwise be resolved in a simple conversation or even a five word sentence become issues requiring the highest levels of corporate to resolve; simple projects become the equivalent of building the Hoover Dam.  All for perceived appearance or having to do a bit of extra work.

These things tire me.  They always have, but it seems even more now.  Having to nuance e-mails and messages, to carefully guard words and actions, to watch with whom one speaks and always be concerned that one is not the focal point of "finger pointing"  - and to have worry that one's employees are under the same pressure - is exhausting.

It says a lot about one's employer, of course, that this sort of situation is allowed to exist and grow.  How can anyone not see that this takes away from actual productive work?  People who feel constrained in their words and thoughts and are driven by the need to "play games" to get by will never be as effective or hard working as those who are not burdened by such activities?

I wish I knew.  I surely do not.  All I do know is that such activities are a lesson of sort - a lesson of what person and what company not to be.

Let us seek to be known for our work, not the level of politics and carefulness of our words and actions we must engage in.

Dream Dying Moment

That moment when a dream dies.

I do not always know the moment when a dream dies.  Sometimes they simply seem to disappear into the night, silently leaving the stage without taking a bow, dissolving into reality with scarcely a sigh.  But other times I know it completely.

It comes in a flash.  A comment.  A message.  A turn of phrase.  At each of this moments one can sense the turn in the road immediately after it has happened.  The door which you were hoping to go through suddenly shuts in your face, you see the off ramp which you thought you were going to take disappearing behind you in the rear view mirror.  Everything has changed in an instant.  The thing is simply not going forward as you had thought it would - in fact, more often than not the thing has completely stopped moving forward altogether.

I fight it, of course.  The keen sensation of completely having the dream die is so powerful in the moment that I simply try and turn my attention aside to something else.  I pretend the moment did not happen and that if I simply believe everything will go back to the way it was.  Or I instinctively know it and try to come up with even more heroic efforts to save the situation, even more extremes to go to to somehow make things right.  As if somehow any effort on my part is going to change something which is completely outside of my control.

But I am holding on to a wisp of moonlight, a thing of ash that flakes away in my hand even as I cling to it tighter and tighter.  No matter how much I try to freeze the moment or go back in time and undo the change it never works.  I am only left with that harsh realization of the moment when the dream died - and everyone knew it but me.

A Slow Curtain Descent

I sit here as I write this, surrounded by all the comforts of 2000 years of technological advancements.

I have lights that burn more brightly than any torch with no danger of fire.  At the touch of a hand, I have hot water for showers and cold water for coffee - in both cases, the water is drinkable and I have no fear of disease.

In the background I hear the hum of a refrigerator that keeps foods which 100 years ago would have been considered exotic unspoiled and available.  A click and heat floods the house without any effort on my part.   I am surrounded by books, the knowledge of 3000 years at my personal disposal. And all of this sits in a hose made not of earth or logs or skin but bricks and wood, sturdy to shield me from wind and weather.

Even as I write this I have the reach of the entire globe at my fingertips, thanks to the Internet.  I can see far away lands in real time, speak with people on the other side of the planet.  The vistas of far off places and the knowledge of all known cultures is available for the taking.

I sit here, surround by all of this - and yet I am troubled by the fact that I slowly feel the curtain coming down.

You may laugh at me of course.  Call me a fool or a "doomer" or what have you.  But I find myself surrounded by a world where more knowledge and material wealth is available than ever and yet the hearts of people are more and more empty, more and more consumed with their own version of fulfillment with no interest or care about how things make their way to them.  A water tap is always there to be turned on and yet no-one thinks of the system behind where that water comes from.  A tomato is eaten in December and no-one thinks of the hothouse half a world away that it was grown in.

Our wants have become our needs and our empty hearts seek to fill them with these things.  What happens, I wonder, when in the pursuit of our hearts those that seek end up destroying all around them?  If people can not or will not work, where do things come from?  Who is John Galt indeed.

And ever so slowly, the curtain seems to descend on the 1,000 year night.

I will very much miss coffee.

JPLT and Goal Met

Yesterday I took the Japanese Language Proficiency Test N5 (Lowest level).

It was hard.

It was a goal I set for myself almost two years ago.  Originally I hoped that I would take it last year, but frankly the commitment was not there.  The date came and went and all I did was sit there and say "Darn it, I should have registered".

So this year, when the registration opened, I immediately registered.

I had the material. Frankly, it bore little resemblance to the sort of material that I covered in class years ago. The focus was totally different - in some ways, far more practical.  More encompassing, especially in vocabulary, but at the same time far more focused.

How did I do?  Only time - i.e. until February - will tell.  I will say that the test matched the format of the practice test very well.  On the whole I think I did well in Kanji recognition, okay in vocabulary and grammar, and either did great or bombed in listening.

My initial reaction is to demand that I pass everything and be unsatisfied if I do not.  But then I had to reflect for a minute.  I set a goal of taking the test.  And I met it.  If I do not pass, there is always next year.

The important thing is that I kept my word to myself.

Lack of Focus

This week it has been hard to write.
I have found myself overwhelmed by events occurring all over the world:  here at home and abroad.  To someone like myself, who is a perennial worrier, these sorts of things send me into an almost frenzy.

Honest to goodness, it really feels like order - internal, national, international - is completely falling apart.  Or accelerating beyond what seems to be manageable.

I know there are those that would tell me that I am simply being too focused on certain thing and that overall things are much better than I believe them to be.  But I am student of history and I know all too well how fragile any complex system like civilization can be, how easily it fractures and how those fractures have to start somewhere - sometimes in less obvious places but eventually spreading throughout the entire structure.

One could perhaps avert one's eyes to the cracks growing larger and perhaps part of me wants to continue to do this.  But the other side of me - the paranoid side?  - keeps whispering in my head that avoiding things too long will eventually result in being overrun by events instead of being prepared for them.

Two futures keep arguing for attention in my head:  the one is the future that conforms to the present, the one that resembles life as it is today except with better technology, the sort of relative stability that I experience now.  The other future is the one unknown, the one that could be any combination of events and experiences - except there is no relative stability involved.

Everywhere things seem on fire.  It makes my day to day activities seem relatively unimportant and even pointless.  It splits my focus and makes it difficult to plan for any future, as how does one prepare for two entirely separate time streams?

And even as I dither, the world spins on, slowly seeming to become even more engulfed by flame.

Avoiding Current Events

Confused by events,
The World spins out of control
as my garlic grows.

December Crunch

Sigh.  And December hits.

And everyone at work suddenly figures out that is the last 3 weeks (effectively) of the year.

I should have predicted that this was coming.  It seems to have become a pattern every year at work.  But I think something has changed - before I thought it was a random sort of event, the sort of thing that happens and people did not plan for or realize it.  But I realized today that this is now as predictable as the fact that the last month of the year is coming.

And I am weary of it.  Because it steals my holiday joy.

Christmas for me has become something that is wedged into the last week before it actually occurs, mostly because the three weeks leading up to it are overcome with the panic of individuals and their things that need to get done.  I have no sense of the Christmas being upon us - instead, I have the sense of a long tunnel which is entered into on December 1st and from which I come up from air on December 19th or so with maybe six days to celebrate the holiday.

I am tired of this.  This is no way to spend Christmas.  But how do I combat it?

The only thing I can think of - and this will have to be a conscious decision - is to monitor my own mood.  No-one is going to bring me less work or expect their things not to get done.  It is upon me to determine my own frame of mind - and my own frame of mind has to be celebrating Christmas, not just on the last week but on all the weeks before.

The longer term plan of course is to find a place where such is not the case, where the end of December is no more  rush than any other time of the year because everyone  has been working steadily along.  And, of course, everyone values Christmas.

Until then, it is up to me.  Because the season will not come into my life unless I make a place for it to do so.

Faded Dream

Silver water flows
As the moon remains dappled,
Ever beyond reach.

Clouds across the sky
hide everything but the moon:
the night's last beacon

Chance Encounter

To not have met you
would mean a vista of  life
could never be seen.

Being an Accessory

There is nothing worse than realizing you are an accessory.

It may not be a conscious thought on the part of others or something that they are even aware that they are doing (hopefully not, because otherwise there are worse issues involved).  They may see it as a simple taking charge of the situation to make sure that things get done or even that if someone else will not lead (whatever their definition of that is), they will do so.  But what ends up happening is that one ends up being an accessory.

What do I mean?  The fact that your participation and acceptance are assumed.  That you have no other opinion beyond that of what has been decided by others, that your will is simply that of the majority (or whoever is making the decisions), and that your lack of silence about the whole thing is really an indication of your acceptance of this fact, rather than any indication that you may silently not agree or simply would rather not create a situation in the first place.  And then, once the action is completed or the task done, you are simply put back on the shelf  or returned to your place, a piece of jewelry that has served its purpose, the tool that has helped to complete the task.

It leaves the person in question, the one who has been the accessory, feeling a little less enthused over time. One no longer has a role or purpose beyond that which is filled in the lives of those who need the accessory.  Enthusiasm is only shown when one does the thing which the other person wants or feels is necessary and like a Pavlovian response, excitement and attention are paid - but try something which is not directly in plan or is even counter to it and one will find that the excitement and attention fade away faster than cherry blossoms in the wind.  Appreciation often feels to be extended  because of what one does, not because of who one is.

How does one handle this?  Unfortunately, there seem to be no good options.  If a superior is treating you this way, they generally view any reaction or complaint as simply being insubordinate or having authority issues - after all, the point of reports is to serve and take their suggestions seriously.   If it is someone else, an equal or even a loved one, they either will not see the issue or consider any note of it as a sign that you are selfish or self absorbed, not a team player or concerned with the bigger picture.  The options become either to put one's foot down and thereby create arguments and disagreements and hurt feelings or simple go along with the flow, side-stepping any unfortunate incidents and gently sighing inside.

There is one thing, one thing that the outside will never see though:  every time the accessory is used as an accessory, a little piece of free will and responsiveness goes away, heading off to either an inner reservoir of resistance or to a place where things are different.  Continued long enough, all that will remain is the vehicle which can be used, the accessory which decorates or fixes.

The will, the inner core, the engagement, will have gone elsewhere.

Thanksgiving Day Proclamation

One of my regular posts every year for which I do not write but only copy, as it is fitting for the day.

George Washington's 1789

Thanksgiving Proclamation

Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me to "recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness:"

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enable to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shown kindness to us), and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as He alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand, at the city of New York, the 3d day of October, A.D. 1789.

- http://www.wilstar.com/holidays/wash_thanks.html

Not Fooling God

I keep forgetting that I cannot fool God.

Oh, I think I can.  I cloak things in the very best sort of language in my mind:  Love, Christian Service, Good Samaritan - you name it, I have probably come up with it in my mind at one time.  The problem is that none of this, if I get to the bottom of it, is really true.  It is just me, trying to find cover to cover actions I have already decided to take.

He continues to be gracious to me, more than I probably deserve.  The reprimands remain in private, exposed only to me but clearly and directly tied to the things I have done.  I know, and I know that He knows.

The probably not so funny part is that I usually know too, right around the time I am doing them.  You know the score:  in the midst of getting ready to complete an action (for me, usually something which is being done in a rush rather than with foresight) there is that stinging moment of guilt, that sense that what you are doing is not really what you should be doing.  Yes, maybe it is not out front sin that would definitively call one into to question but the questionable action that gently eases one across the line without the direct feeling of doing wrong - but it is there.  You look at it, think about it for a moment, come up with some sort of rationalization - "It is the right thing to do"  or "This is just a/an X. No-one would ever consider this to be over the top" - and away goes the act.

It never works out of course.  The act inevitably goes awry.  The thing is lost.  The words are misconstrued.  The action turns out to be pointless - or even worse, it turns out not to be the great moment that you imagine in your mind, the Turning Point or Great Sacrifice, but rather just a blip that happens and then is instantly swept into the torrent of time, seemingly gone without impact.

You stand there of course, holding the physical item or moment in your hand and head, wondering how such a thing could have happened.  How could an event have gone so wrong as to be completely ignored or the action become so irrelevant that it is if it never happened?  It is not the fault of the proposed recipient of course:  God has taken care of them as well, protected them from your well-meant but perhaps not so well intentioned act.  Their lives and their minds were headed other places seeking other things while all the time you were firmly planted in the dark, thinking you were a shining star.

Then the question becomes:  have I learned?  Have I finally learned that I cannot take events into my own hands, hearts and minds into my own possession, and try to mold them to my purposes in the absence of true noble actions and deeds?  Or will I continue to cling to the idea that I can arbitrate the true inner and outer meaning of my actions, without seeing them for what they are?

Because one day - perhaps sooner than we care to believe -  there will be an end to the benevolence, the quiet rebuke, the inner whisper of wrong.

Schedule On, Schedule Off

It is the off-work schedule that tells us more about our time than the work schedule.
I am off of work this week - time to burn and two "free" days have made this a recurring holiday over the years. With the advent of vacation, of course, my whole morning and evening timeline tends to fall apart - I am not getting up at a very early hour, not blogging as early (obviously), not having to drive to work and back and fit things in.

The question is, how am I using that time instead?

Not well, I am afraid.

I dither.  I find myself easily diverted by lesser things that I would perceive to be of lesser importance usually, I find myself without drive, without a task list.  Whenever I think about making a task list my immediate internal response is "I am on vacation".

My initial response is to say "This is not right.  I should have a list of everything I need to be working on when I am not at work.  I have things that need to be accomplished - why am I not doing them?" And I suppose to some extent that is true: there are projects that need doing, things that if they are not scheduled will never get done.

But is that response right?  Not completely,

If things are as tightly scheduled on my off days as my on days, then something is wrong.  If I leave no time for relaxation or simply "doing" things, can it be said that my life is any better than if I were just doing everything I had to do all the time.

Yes, I need to write some things in.  But also yes, I need to just take some time to just simply allow myself to do and be.  Because creativity and doing or being is not always found in the regimented moments of a life.

Shrinking the Relational Circle

My relational circle is probably getting ready to contract again.

Last week I wrote about our inability to communicate with each other on the Internet.  That was last week.  In the intervening period of 4-5 days, things have not gotten much better.  In fact, I have just had mounting evidence that the thing is much worse.

The thing that depresses me all the more about the whole thing is that I do not believe that people view the inconsistencies in their life as such.  Social media has accelerated the issue I suspect, but I am sure that the latent tendencies were always there.

We have come to view our lives as compartmentalized  I am this over here for these things but over there for something else.  In this part of my life I can find this hilariously amusing, but in this part of my life I need to be deadly serious about something.  We perhaps seldom consider how these two things which are seemingly so different look to those outside of use.

Our lives no longer reflect any sense of attempting to bring them into some kind of unified whole, that what we say and do and practice is consistent across all situations.

Consistency.  We do not value it.  There is a thought I had not considered before.

How does this relate to my relational circle?  There are two ways to relate to people.  The first, the one that possibly matters the most, is how we relate to others.  As a Christian, I get no slack here.  I must be able to engage with and speak to all people.  I am Christ in their lives, perhaps the only example of Him they will see.  My ability to live consistently and relationally matters.  That does not stop.

The second is how others relate to us.  Here, I think, we can engage in a little more selective practices.  The best example I can think of is something where everyone else around you is doing it but you do not have to do it - in fact, there may be prudent reasons for you not to be around it or to carry the thoughts of it around with you.  And so you start to taper off those times when such things occur or avoid situations that would put you in contact with them.

And so, I think, with me.

Life is short. My energy and time are limited.  Discordant thinking and negative thoughts increasingly have no place in what I am trying to accomplish.

Longing

You dance in my dreams;
I am buoyed by your courage.
You make my heart sing.

Failure to Communicate

We have lost the ability to speak to each other in words that others can hear.

Our debates have become Internet memes, background pictures with clever words meant to shame or embarrass our opponents without any thought beyond that of gaining the intellectual upper hand.

Our discussions have become short sentences - tweets or snapchats or short phrases on Facebook delivered without contact or context, then responded to in anger or righteous superiority of our position.

We have lost the ability to speak.  We have lost the ability to be kind.

Oh, we say that we are interested in communication.  We spend our days on our phones and computers, chatting and texting one another.  Our lives have become full of words - and yet empty of of communication.

We are rapidly losing that most basic of interactions that are supposed to differentiate us from all other species, the ability to communicate.

I spend my days wrapped in sadness, slowly withdrawing more and more from the communication and technological mediums available to me as all I see and read and hear is anger and fear and hatred - so little kindness, so little consideration of others and how our words impact them.

I weep for the future - not so much that I fear something particular happening, but rather that no matter what will happen, we will have lost our ability to communicate about it.

Redbird Singing in the Dead of Night

So Redbird turned in her notice today.

It was not unexpected - she has been unhappy for more time that I can almost remember now, stressed to the point of creating physical issues and mental pain.  She has been to this precipice perhaps 50 times since I have known her.  And today was finally the day.

I talked with her in the afternoon after the thing was done.  There was a peace about her, a peace that I had not seen in months - but a peace I was all too familiar with from others that have gone before her on the same journey.  It was all the cares of the job simply melting away, leaving nothing but the future behind.  Maybe not knowing what was coming next, but knowing that whatever it was it was not what the past had been

As she was reminiscing over the things that had brought her to this point, she said something that hit me deeply:  "I realized that there were people here that I had worked with for 9 months, people who had not known me before things started to go bad - and all they know of me is that person:  angry, emotional, sad, bitter.  They do not know the real me, the fun happy me, the me that exists away from this before everything went so badly."

That thought struck me to the core.

Yes, I understand that happiness can be choice.  At the same time, like it or not, we are influenced by the environment around us.  And sometimes that environment can weigh on us heavily indeed.

What would it be like if we worked, lived, and loved in an environment where we enjoyed what we did, who we spent our time with, and cared about the things that deeply mattered to us.  What would we be like?  How would others perceive us?  Would they see us as we are now, or would they see us as we wish others to perceive us?

I wish I knew.  Others can see farther down that road than I can at this point.

Fly High Redbird.  Fly Free.

Achieve Greatness

I will simply say that I went out this weekend and achieved greatness, at least greatness larger than anything I thought possible.  It is completely possible - but I simply had to go do it.  And ask permission of no-one, not even myself.

The possibility exists.  We need only to lead ourselves to embrace it, not constantly check over our shoulder to see if others permit it.

PRs

Weekend of lifting:
Muscles are tight as drum:
Price of Victory.

Of Cups and Charity III

My finishing thought yesterday was "What if the Church gave in such a way that it made a significant difference?  What would the world look like?"

Or more fundamentally, could we change the way government functions as we know it?

The Church has one mission;  to proclaim Christ crucified and resurrected.  To do this it has three methods:  witness of the Word, witness of our lives, and witness of our actions.

Of these three, the Word or lives would be considered easier by most - it is easy for most (not necessarily me) to preach the Word or to work on being more holy.  It is the witness of our actions, however, that can often be the most difficult - but the thing that the world pays attention to most.

There are arguably many reasons for the growth of government many sectors including the social (which, of course per my policy, we will not handle here).  But is is possible to contemplate that part of the reason that the government entered charity in the first place was that the Church was failing in its mission to accomplish it?

Governments since time immemorial have engaged in periodic care of the needy - witness Rome and the "panem et circensus (bread and circuses)" or its price control of grain.  This has probably stemmed as much from a desire to avoid instability as a desire to assist - or in some unfortunate circumstances, a desire to control.

Christians should be different.  Our motivation should not be for stability or control or perhaps even to assist (noble as it is) but rather the share the love of Christ in a tangible fashion, to do the good that God tells us He wants us to do.

Am I saying that the people in government who handle such things are evil or controlling?  No.  They are doing a job.  But more fundamentally I am asking if the job they are doing is something that Christians should be doing - not to put them our of work but for us to live our calling.

Could this be done in short order?  Of course not.  And calls to simply halt things always end at the same place:  that no-one will step in to fill the gap. And too often that is a legitimate complaint against Christianity.  So it will take time: time for us to practice giving in larger and larger ways, time for us to build credibility as people who will always do what we say will do.  This is a long term goal, probably longer than any of our lifetimes.

But who knows - if the Church were sincerely to engage in this activity, to really make an effort, would God not intervene in our behalf?

Funny thing - He says in such situations He will.

So let us get with it.  Start somewhere.  But never be satisfied with less when we can do more.

Of Cups and Charity II

So how should Christians practice Charity?

Yesterday I had small suggestion, potentially the easiest one:   Give what we spend on our pleasures to a worthy (in my case Christian) organization.  But that is just a starter.  I would like to go a bit deeper.

Some folks would make the argument (I suppose) that if one merely spends money at the places that are "doing good" this may be sufficient.  It is probably a step in the right direction, of course - but to quote an old adage which applies "Do your giving while you're living so you're knowing where it's going" - the concept being, of course, that once the money leaves your hands it may or may not go where it is supposed to go, and that any organization that is not a well run charity inevitably eats up money in overhead.

So how should Christians practice charity?

One suggestion, based on C.S. Lewis' quote yesterday, is give generously.  To the point that it "pinches" us a bit (I use that word in quotes as if by "pinching" we define things as we cannot afford small luxuries, it is hardly a pinch).  A second and required one is, of course, to continue to give to our local church.  If we have made the commitment to it we are commanded to support it.

The third is to give strategically.

What do I mean?  Example:  the church my wife is employed at, once a year, does a single day mass offering for a local Christian based charity.  This is not a charity they are associated with deeply.  This is not to replace the regularly weekly giving.  This is a one time over the top act of generosity for which the intention is to drastically change the course of that charity.

Imagine if Christians gave like this - not just as we are to do per Scripture - but on top of that in a way that strategically blessed both specific ministries and the people served by them.  Imagine if a city was able to say "Hunger? Homelessness?  If people are hungry and homeless in this place, it is because they choose to be.  The Christians here have made it such that the resources are freely available to all who need it."

One thought as we ponder this for tomorrow's posting:  if Christians, if the Church, gave like this, what would it look like to the world?

Of Cups and Charity

I have been weighing - in a sad sort of bemused, "I really do not want to think about it" way - about the ongoing kerfuffle that is the Starbucks cup controversy.  On the one hand you have group of Christians proclaiming that Starbucks has proclaimed "War on Christmas" while on the other hand you have a group stating that this is simply not the question and those who are offended are simply being overly hurt about a simple cup. There is a third group as well, those (Christian and otherwise) who state that it should not not matter what Starbucks does.  Go act like a Christian (and depending on if you are a believer or not the answer varies what that actually means) and simply ignore the whole thing.

(You know I do not do politics or religious controversy on this site; trust me, this is not going where you think this is going).

For the record, I think everyone involved - every one of the three sides listed above - is acting like a damn fool.  But that is not the point.

My point is really directed towards those who profess Christ.  And I think it is a bit bigger than whether or not we should be concerned about a cup of anything, let alone coffee.

More directly, the question is whether we should be concerned about coffee at all.

The simple reality is that we are commanded to do good, to live out God's love and God's commandments, to demonstrate both His love and His purity.  His purity, His commandments, are something which we as individuals have to live out before others.  His love, we live out in the community around us.

And there are needs.  This should surprise no-one.  Serious needs, the sort of needs that the church of Christ should be uniquely qualified to address (we do, after all, have a relationship with the God of the Universe.  He has been known to address a problem or two).

So the question is, how are we spending our lives, our time, and our money?

Are they dedicated to us?  Are we so concerned about this here, this now, that we must meet our every desire?  Has something as simple as fancy coffee become such a need for us that are willing to do battle over the cup it comes in?

I have to rank myself in this mess as well. I am far too concerned with my own agenda.  I have my lists as I am sure you have yours: lists of things I want, places I want to go, things I want to do.  All about me.  All about mine.

C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity  “I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare…If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us,… they are too small.  There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditures excludes them.”     This, I submit, needs to be the starting point for all of our spending and charitable giving - remember it was the widow that gave all that Christ commended, not the rich that gave little.

What does this mean on a practical level?  In a very embarrassing (or should be embarrassing) sense, simply start with the question "Do I spend more on _______ (fancy coffee, food, books, insert anything here) than I give?"

Hurts, does it not?

Is there something inherently wrong with Starbucks coffee?  Not at all - but if I spend more on Starbucks than I give to the work of God (in whatever form), then I have a problem that all the complaining or inane words about "sharing the love of Christ over a Peppermint Mocha" will not wash away.

For me, what does that mean?  It might mean something as simple as taking the money I would spend on Starbucks (not that I go there that often) or on a lunch and give it.  Give it to the Church.  Give it to the Christian charity of your choice.  Consciously. Willingly.  Silently.  And hopefully.

Will this save the world?  Quite probably not - if correctly done, the world will not know it was done at all  ("Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing" - Matthew  6:3).  But good will be done.  And through the organization or Church, God will be glorified.

Does this mean I can never enjoy any of the things I would like?  I do not think so - but it does mean I should act responsibly.  Do I like coffee?  Make it at home - if you are dying for good coffee (or so I understand) and want to help out some Brothers, try Mystic Monk coffee (do good, enjoy good).  Or find a group (arguably for Christians, we should try to start with a Christian group and then work from there if we cannot find one) that offers the thing we want. It may be a little more expensive - but the expensive includes enabling them to the do the good we are called to do.

I do not know that my thinking is fully developed on this - and I will probably take a few more blog posts to get through this.  But there is a root here, a root that needs exposing and pulling.  I would argue this is a moment of great opportunity for followers of Christ.  We can make a difference in a way that no-one else can.  But we will hardly get there by either arguing over cups - or asserting that our needs trump the requirements of the charity commanded us.

Six Days A Week

So yesterday we bought a new to us van.

This was not the way I intended to start the day.  But the van had another go around this weekend and the cost for the repairs reached the point that it was more than the van would be worth - and that would be if there were no other issues with it.  Even I am forced to work on some level of financial sense in that respect.

But that is not really the point of today's post.

While I was there, I asked our salesman - a younger sort of fellow - how he ended up selling cars.

This is a question I have learned to ask others, especially in situations where I do not otherwise know what to say.  I am always interested in how people ended up where they are, especially in something like car sales, where it is not a career that a lot of people think of going into.

He said he had been doing it about three years and had sort of stumbled into it - had been doing manual labor sorts of jobs up to that point and a friend asked him if he wanted to try it.  "I was nervous about walking up to people and asking them if they wanted to spend money" he said "but then someone told me 'that is what they are there for -to spend money.'"  He said the rewarding part of the job was helping people get cars when they thought their credit was too poor and that overall he did not mind the work too much.

The only thing that he did mind a bit was theyhours - six days a week with one day off.  He is a hunter and said that it made it more difficult with only one day off (Sunday), but what were you going to do.

The one day off thought buried itself in my brain as we moved to the finance manager - mid-forties, a four year old daughter.  Chatting away with him as we filled out the innumerable forms and signed I glanced above his desk at his schedule: six days a week with Tuesdays off in his case.

By the time were done we had probably exceeded both of these gentlemen's scheduled hours by 40 minutes.

It has been a long time since I have had to work anything more than five days a week - and it is now almost 7 years beyond the days of having no job at all and over 10 years since the days of the Firm, where income did not really match expenses.  In my forgetful sort of way, I do not recall as often as I should what those days were like - or even worse, the days before I came into the industry at all where I was working retail and teaching to make ends meet.

There is nothing more noble about working six days any more than there is something more valuable about working five days- the thing that stuck with me as I drove home - that feeling of effort and doing what it takes to make ends meet.

I complain - probably more than I should - about what I do right now.  There are seemingly numberless reasons why things are not what they should be (and if you have read here long enough, you may be familiar with some of them).  But for all of that I have a lot of benefits that lots of others do not have, like only working five days a week or vacation or even reasonable benefits.

Am I thankful for them?  Or am I always consumed by how inconvenient things feel and how unhappy I think I am, wanting something more fulfilling?  Perhaps the fulfillment is not so much in what I do but in what it allows me to do.  Perhaps if I looked more to the benefits of what it accomplishes in my life and less about how I feel I might change perspective.

Because I am sure to a great many number of people out there, 5 days a week that covered the bills would seem like the promised land.

Autumn Citrus

Repotting Lemon Trees,
I prepare for the winter
I know is coming.

Always Playing Defense

Today I had my every other week meeting with my boss.  We talked, as we always do, about the goings on in the department and any emergencies.  And then he asks the question he has always come to ask:  "Is there anything bothering you?"

Why yes, yes there was.

I expressed my concern about a new marketing initiative that has been rolled out by our sales group, a fairly encompassing one that seems to involve a heck of a lot of change for (from my vantage point) not a lot of benefit. My concern, I told him, was that in the entire presentation they did not mention anything about the function of my department - a function, I pointed out, that ultimately allows to do business in most global markets.

He thought about it for a moment and then agreed.  He pointed out that what we do is something that is never really appreciated the way it should be - "It is like playing defense"  he said.

I must have looked a bit quizzical, because he continued.  "My child plays soccer.  He is a defender.  As a defender, you get blamed for all the goals scored against  you. If your team scores a goal, everyone celebrates the offense.  But no-one celebrates the defense and they only seem to get remembered if something gets through.  Does it make sense?"

I concurred that it did, both from Nighean Dhonn's years in soccer and my following of hockey.  I was well aware of the fact that the defense seldom gets accolades, only blame.

"It is like that for what we do as well"  he said.  "Everything can happen upstream and everyone celebrates but all the bad decisions, bad designs, complaints from customers - it all becomes our department's fault.  We are the ones that get blamed."

We talked for a few more moments about other things and then we sailed off to our separate destinations.  But his thought stuck with me all day.

Playing defense.  As I continued to ponder the thought, let the words roll around in my head, I realized that this was precisely what I have been doing for most of my life.  Playing defense.  Trying to avoid things getting through to something else, avoid things going wrong, avoid getting blamed.

We all have to play some level of defense, I suppose.  We all have to make sure that things go well and bad things do not get through.  But playing a defender for years upon end is wearing.  It trains you to think a certain way:  to avoid letting things through rather than trying to push things through to score.  It becomes a way of living that is reactive rather than proactive, of trying to shore up walls rather than thinking of ways to attack the enemy and their walls.

If I think about the totality of my life I am forced to admit there are only a handful of times that I have not played defense.  Professionally, this has only happened four times: when I got a manager's job from my cousin out of college so I could move back to my hometown, when I took a job teaching, when I left a job teaching to get into my current industry, and when I took the leap to work at the Firm.  4 times over 25 years.   Not an impressive count.  My personal life probably rates higher, as I would count every time I have tried a new thing and succeeded (even partially) as a victory.

But why the difference?  Why is professional so different from personal?

Because in personal, all the risk and results are under my control.

It is like my recent gains - and my continued improvement over four years - in Highland Games.  All of this is 100% under my control.  There is nothing for me to defend in the case - only goals for me to attack.

Professional is different.  Professional - at least for what I have done for almost 20 years now - is a constant battle of defense.  I cannot control of most the factors that control my job.  Bad decisions upstream make my life difficult, but I have little ability to influence them.  I can see the disaster coming but I can do little to blunt the results.  All I can do is brace for impact.

I am deeply tired of playing defense.  I am not sure how to rectify this issue immediately but I have a pretty good idea of how to start:  throw open the gates, come down off the wall, and start advancing.

It may be a really good way to get cut down - or to cut your way through.

Important and Urgent

Yesterday I tried to pay attention to what I was doing. Using the Urgent/Important grid, I tried to filter my activities through it such that I was making the best use of my time, doing both urgent things as well as important things.

But not everybody sees things the same way.

What I found was that people - via voice or person or e-mail - kept showing up with their issues.  And all of their issues are important, things that must (in their world) be dealt with right now.

I had never seen it that way before - oh certainly, I have encouraged people to come ask questions and want to be a resource.  But maybe for the first time, what I found is that people's view of important and my view of my time are at odds.

The reality is this: people come because they want their problem solved.  But sometimes (I am not sure how often at this point) it is more of a reaction by others to not have to do the hard work, to bring the issue to your attention in hopes that you will solve it.  Or, perhaps more disappointingly, they will bring the problem to you with the solution in mind but not reveal what their solution is, hoping that you will either confirm it or suggest a better one.

The reality is that most people have far better ideas than they think and often know what they should do.  Where it breaks down is that they seem to lack the self confidence to express these ideas - instead, they hope that someone will confirm the idea independently.

I know that these are slightly different problems.  I also know that both of them are destroying my life.

It explains why I feel drained when I leave the work every day - I spend a great deal of time applying to others to help them, always draining the bank account and seldom refilling it.  I also leave with few of the things I need to get accomplished being done; I am often trying to help others do their jobs.

What I am going to do about this?  Not sure, really.  I almost lost it yesterday on someone, which is also not a long term plan for success.  But neither can I continue to relapse into always doing things for others (any others - not just reports and peers but managers as well).

The way is there before me.  I just have to make sense of it.

Of Stones and Success

So something happened for two Games in a row that has never happened before: I did not come in last in every event.

The events of choice?  Braemar Stone and Open Stone.  In both cases my throws exceed someone - perhaps not by much, but by some.

This is something I would never have predicted.

I am not an athlete by nature (or at least, I never thought I was) and the point of this exercise is not to glory specifically in my own abilities - after all, ultimately we compete against ourselves.  The point, however, is to understand what has brought to the point that I am at least minimally competitive in something that is not something I would have said is in my mental DNA.  In other words, why can I not take this kind of focus and effort and pour it into every other area of my life.

Imagine: If I can do this in approximately 4 years with something I have never done before, what could I accomplish if I was doing it in something I was already skilled at?  What is the thing that enables me to push forward in this area when in so many others I feel like I am simply on hold?

My initial thoughts were not all that grand.  It is something I enjoy - but that is something that is not necessarily that transferable to other things.  It is something that I can quantify progress in - but again, not necessarily that transferable to other things.  And it is something that I do not worry about failing in.

Hello, what is that?

I do not worry about failing in Highland Athletics - if I have a bad game or bad event, I merely move on to the next thing.  And it is not like I ever really fail - just by competing and continuing to compete, I succeed.

But this does not feel true in the rest of my life.

Things have consequences - or perhaps I merely put consequences on them.  Call it old habits of the perfectionist - if I cannot do it well, I will simply stop doing it.  Or, if I cannot move forward in doing it but cannot quit it, I will simply slowly lose interest until doing it feel like doing something something in rote.

So how do I change this?  The answer is seems surprisingly simple:

1)  Do not worry about succeeding or failing.  Simply do. If you fail, just let it go and move on.
2)  Where possible, do things that you enjoy.  You will always do things that enjoy better.
3)  Figure out some way - any way - to quantify progress and keep track.  You work better with goals or targets to hit.

The question is, is this as simple as it seems?  And if so, can I implement it?

Lost

Patiently waiting,
The sunrise may yet arrive
though I see it not.

Why I Throw

Yesterday I had the purest form of Highland Games I have every participated in.

It was in a pasture owned by someone who, for his birthday, decided he wanted to have Highland Games.  The competitors were all known to each other, all Masters (over 40).  There were only a few friends of the birthday man there to watch - no crowds, no announcer, just 7 throwers (5 men, 2 women) under warm November skies in a pasture.  One trig to throw from, one set of standards to throw over.  That and the implements were all.

It was the greatest of all throwing days.

Why?  Because this was the very origin of the Highland Games themselves:   friends and associates coming together to throw to challenge themselves and each other to feats of strength.  No glory but in achievements, no cheers but that of their friends.  No prizes but of the simplest sort - except the badge of participation, which is ultimately all any Highland athlete can lay claim to.

People sometimes ask me why I throw.  I am certainly neither the youngest nor the strongest on the field. And it is seldom that I walk away from the field with more than a t-shirt to show I participated.  There is little glory to be gained and certainly no prize money to be had.

I throw because I can.

I throw because 99.9% of the world will never do what I do - for many, they would never dream of trying what I am doing.  I throw because every time I hurl a stone or weight or line up to a caber, I am trying to better myself, become a little more excellent.  I am trying to achieve a little bit more.

And I am surrounded by people doing exactly the same thing.  Seeking to better themselves, to become more excellent at what they do as well.

And we all do it in one big happy group, full of jokes (sometimes coarse) and jeers.  And underlying it all, a sense of brotherhood.  And (if you asked them to look deep down in their souls) love.

We came to celebrate our friend.  And we came to do what we love - not for money, not for glory, but for greatness.  For greatness in ourselves.  For the greatness we see in our friends when they throw.

I went home with a roll of athletic tape and a container of deer chili.  And a mind full of memories of doing something I love so very much with the people I love.

It was a very good day.

A Commute with Depression

So Depression slipped into the car with me this afternoon as I was getting ready to drive home.

He is one of my least favorites.  He always has that know-it-all opinion about him that always infuriates me and  that smirk that tells me he knows precisely what I have been thinking.

"So I guess things did not go so well today"  he said with a grin as I started the car.  I merely muttered back in return as I turned my head around to back out and then get the car in alignment to head out of the parking lot.

"In fact, it has been a pretty lousy week, right?" he questioned again with his grin plastered on his face as I looked both ways to get into traffic.  "And the best part?  The best part?  It is only Thursday.  You still have Friday to look forward to."

I grimaced.  "We are not having this conversation today"  I replied.  "I am simply not in the mood to have it."

"Oh, but we have to" he replied with an almost serpent-like hiss to his voice.  "We have to.  We have to discuss how your life seems to be going nowhere fast and what we are going to do about it.  Because we have to do something about it.  We cannot merely just endure this sort of thing.  After all, we have endured so much already."

I shook my head as I took the overpass turnoff to get on the main highway home.  "No, we do not.  We do not have to discuss this now.  I am tired.  I am angry.  I am frustrated.  And that is not the time to discuss things like this.  It leads to nowhere that is good."

He sat quietly for some moments as I rolled through the two stoplights and onto the route uphill.  He pursed his lips a bit and then said seriously "I know the real problem of course.  You are without hope.  That is a terrible thing."

Stopped in traffic, I looked straight at him.  "I am not without hope"  I replied angrily.  "I am merely in a bit of a tight spot right now."

He nodded slowly.  "Tight spot, yes.  Tight as in you are stuck. Stuck in your job.  Stuck in life.  Stuck without the hope of going somewhere else."

"I am not stuck!"  I yelled him out loud now, pounding the steering wheel in my frustration, the edges of tears peeking out of the corner of my eyes. "I chose this!  I continue to choose this!  I have responsibilities to meet. And responsibilities trump hope at times."

We rolled to a stop at the next light as I tried to slow down my breathing and calm down.  "It is really okay"  I finally croaked out to him. "I just need to wait a little longer.  Things will get better."

He nodded back slowly.  "Sure, sure" he replied.  "Just a little more patience, right?  A little more hanging on? "  He ignored my focus on the road as we continued on to the next stop light.  "Tell you what" he said as he reached down and disengaged the safety belt.  'I will just slip out here.  This has been a good little discussion. Let us save the rest for next time - say, perhaps, tomorrow." And with that he was gone, slipped out and gone into a sea of cars before I could say another word.

I sat through the light, looking at the seat where he had been sitting, hearing his voice echoing in my head.  Tomorrow.  And Tomorrow.  And Tomorrow.

But at least if I thought I would be here to have the debate tomorrow, that itself became a form of hope.

Sunrise, Sunset

One of the great things about this time of year is the sunrises and sunsets:

I am fortunate that I am driving Nighean Dhonn to school every morning and hit the overpass precisely at the best moment to capture the sunrise.  The colors have been exquisite - helped on, no doubt, by our recent run of storms.

For an extra treat tonight, I got a fantastic sunset to boot as I was headed home in the evening:

It makes me sad to think that with Daylight Savings Time I will miss these masterpieces.

Actual Life/Preferred Life

My life has really broken itself into two phases.
On the one hand is the part that takes of most of the time, the mundane.  Let us call it My Actual Life.  It is the life of work and home, family and responsibilities, things that need doing and things that I am responsible for.

On the other hand is the part of my life that seems to possess the least of my time, the exciting.  Let us call it My Preferred Life.  Herein the list is much smaller:  Iai, Highland Athletics, Reading, Language, Writing.  These are the things that I love to do, that empower me rather than making me feel disempowered.

Here is the terrible thing:  the split is pretty significant, as in 90% Actual Life and 10% Preferred Life.

The problem - I suspect the problem that most people face - is that they come to live for their Preferred Life.  They muscle through the Actual Life to try and get to the few brief moments of a week or a month that are supposed to make the whole thing worthwhile.  And for those brief moments, they do.

But then the 90% comes crashing back in.

I try and sustain the sensation for a while, convince myself (somehow) that this the way things are supposed to be, that I am being responsible and that this is the way that most everyone lives their life.  But I am finding those excuses becoming thinner and thinner over the years.  The 90% becomes less and less worth the 10%.\

I wish I had a clearer path, something that would start to transform that 90% into more Preferred Life, like an alchemist turning lead into gold.  There is a secret out there, some magic stone that I am missing that will do this.

Or at least I hope there is one.  Because ultimately the 90/10 split is not sustainable.  At least, not for my sanity.

Iai By Moonlight

Sword dancing through dreams, 

glimmering with the Autumn's

reflected moonlight.

Weekend Rain

Tropical Storm rain
over the weekend; the garlic
has rejoiced and grown.

Sky Tears

Running in the rain
I cannot tell:  do I cry
or is it the sky?

What Are You Thinking About?

People ask me that sometimes - "What are you thinking about?"  will come the question.  "Nothing" comes the response.  And I mean that - a lot of the time I simply have no thoughts in my head  It is not that I do not have anything to think about but rather that I have apparently trained myself, especially due to years of long commutes, to simply tune out thought and simply be.

That can be difficult to explain to people.

The question - and it is a legitimate one - is if I also use that as an excuse to avoid thinking about and dealing about situations I do not want to discuss.

It is convenient, of course:  "Nothing"  becomes the excuse for not talking about something not because you have nothing to say but because you do not want to say it either from concern about what will happen or simply because it sounds rough and perhaps even hurtful.  And perhaps I begin to play a mind game on myself with this: by giving myself the excuse to say I do not think anything at all about it I do not actively consider it when perhaps I should.

Sometimes I feel - especially lately - like there is a large stopper between my heart and my mouth, a sort of physical block that prevents me from saying things, perhaps things that need to be said or should be said.

It needs to be resolved, of course - because the large block that continues to hold back pressure will eventually rupture, with results far worse than any sort of controlled release would ever be.

Make Better Choices

Director and Star II

So you may be wondering "How did go, not being the Director nor the Star of your life?"

Frankly, it was abysmal.

How can this possibly be, I hear you asking.  Surely with yourself out the way, you could simply stand back and watch great things happen.  But it was like that all.

The biggest thing I noticed was this sensation, this feeling, of a giant hole inside of my soul.  It was the strangest sensation but it was noticeable and there.  Mentally removing myself from the starring role, I found that there was nothing there instead.

This was not what I expected.  I guess I sort of thought that God would immediately fill that space in with Himself, that somehow the Star would make himself readily apparent now that the stage was cleared.

But perhaps He does not work that way.

I went through the day - had to, of course.  Did my tasks, ran my meetings, worked on things that needed doing.  And felt totally empty.  Just as I do when I write this.

I shall try tomorrow, of course.  Open the curtains, bring up the lights, highlight the scenery, and wait.  But maybe this time I shall try with simply no idea that I shall experience anything at all.

Because Stars and Directors follow their own scripts, not the scripts of the walk-ons.

Director and Star

So another one of those sermon thoughts that sticks with you long after the sermon is over.

In the course of discussing the Day of The Lord and what it would be like, he used an interesting analogy:  it is sort of (in a very weak way) like one's birthday, where everything about is about one for one day.  It will be like that, was the point: God will be the Star, and everything will be about Him on that day.  There will not be any question about why things are not about us, any more than we question why people are giving us gifts on our birthday.

The problem comes in our current lives, he pointed out.  We like to treat God as the Director of our lives:  He is the one setting up the circumstances and managing the people and scenes in our lives, but really we are the star of our own life.  It really is supposed to be all about us.  Or so we like to think.  Unfortunately (for me, at least) I have the entire thing not only reversed but upside down:  it is not an either/or for our lives.  God should be both the Director and the Star of our lives.

This is where it breaks down for me, of course:  if not the Director nor the Star of my own life, what am I?  The selfish ego me reaches out and cries  that I am no more than a spear carrier in a cast of thousands, a red shirt security guard in Star Trek who is going to be killed within the first thirty seconds of the episode - my job to demonstrate how this week's alien kills.

That is not the way it works in God's economy, of course.  In Matthew 6: 31-33 Jesus says:

31 “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you." (NKJV)

In other words, God through Christ says "Yes, I am meant to be the star of your life.  Yes, I know it means that if you truly follow Me, you will feel like you are no longer paying attention to anything in your life that matters in your daily life.  In fact, you will probably feel like you are not doing anything for you at all.  But I will take care of you.  By making me the star, you glorify Me.  And I, in turn, will take care of you."

It sound wonderful in theory, but hard in practice.  There is nothing worse than constantly wondering why your plans do not work out, why your goals do not ever seem to get accomplished, why your ship never seems to come in.  

The reality is if your life is always about you, then everything that never works out and never comes to pass will seem like another impediment to the screenplay of your life.  If, on the other hand, you move aside and let the true Star of the show come forward, such things will fade into the background both of time and eternity - because with the Star in place as He was meant to be, the screenplay will suddenly go forward as it always should have.

And the Star has promised never to forget a single supporting actor or actress.

Sky Plain

Piled like snowdrifts,

Landscape above the landscape,

Never to be touched.

On Reading Jane Austen

I should not read Jane Austen.

Traveling back from an out of state business visit, I had the opportunity to read Persuasion.  I had only read Sense and Sensibility and seen screen adaptations of Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Emma.

I should not read Jane Austen.

Jane Austen fires one with a sense of the romantic and the glorious.  To read her is to be pulled breathlessly into a world of morals and manners, of loves unspoken and then at the end realized, of sacrifice and ultimate triumph.

I include a passage from Persuasion in which the main male protagonist, Captain Wentworth, has written a letter to Miss Anne Elliott:

"I can listen no longer in silence.  I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach.  You pierce my soul.  I am half agony, half hope.  Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever.  I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you broke it eight and a half years ago.  Dare not say man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death.  I have loved but you.  Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath.  For you alone, I think and plan - Have you not seen this?  Can you fail to understand my wishes?  I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings as I think you have penetrated mine.  I can hardly write.  I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me.   You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice, when they would be lost to others - Too good, too excellent creature!.  You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men.  Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating in

F W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate, but I shall return hither, or follow your party as soon as possible.  A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's home this evening, or never."

Does the romance and love not drip off the page?  And in the context of the book (which I highly recommend) does this not come at the climax, a love delayed but not denied?

And then I ask the question "Why is life not actually like this?"

I should not read Jane Austen.

Naginata Practice

My Naginata
cuts into the pre-dawn breeze,
healing my failures.

Despair and Writing

I write best when I am despairing.

I wish I understood this combination.  I would like to write best when I am happy or bored or something else which is more ordinary and less painful.  But it apparently does not work that way, at least for me.

In despair perhaps there is pain - and the only way that I can relieve that pain is to write.  It is not that I write specifically of despair; indeed, the writings under this influence range from happy to sad to downright profound (to the point that I can hardly recognize that the words came from me).  But despair is the trigger; without despair, I am merely plodding through, trying to chase a Muse that simply will not be caught.

Can I force myself to despair more?  Seems a bit counterintuitive, does it not?  Yet that is the very thing that makes me write more prolifically and more skillfully than ever.  So it is almost a challenge to my sense of well being:  Want to write?  Despair more.  Put yourself in emotionally challenging and painful situations.  Make your heart bleed and your soul cry for that which it can never have and then which has passed beyond and all that is beyond the reach of repairing.

Suffer.  Cry.  And find that your Muse offers the the comfort not of a hug or kiss, but simply words.  Words from the heart and soul, words that seek to move the pain out of the secret places of myself and onto the page.

Disappearing

Fire on the beach
falls out of sight as the boat
is swept out to sea.

Pathetic Little Gifts

Sometimes we give the most pathetic little gifts.

Oh, we do not believe them to be so.  We see them as great things, meaningful extensions of ourselves.  We infuse them with depth and emotion, in our mind's eye making them ambassadors of great and lofty goals and expectations - dare we say daydreams? - waiting to blossom upon receipt.

Until the light of day comes.

In that minute these gifts are revealed to be what they actually are: small mud pies offered (almost by a child, it seems) at the same time gold and precious stones have arrived.  The luster such things have acquired in our own imagination are stripped away, leaving the occasional mud pieces and sticks to fall on the marble floors.

The receivers will always be gracious of course; any gift offered as a gift is heartfelt and to be accepted as such.  The thanks will come but somehow it never makes its way into our own consciousness - we are still fixated on revelation of the reality of what we have given, seemingly shocked the fact that the reality is not as we had imagined.

It is not that we should never give gifts - no indeed, there are probably not enough gifts given in the world.  No, the problem is really within ourselves.  Sometimes we become so engrossed by the (imagined) deep and meaningful nature of our gifts that we forget the original point of giving the gifts:  they are ultimately never really for ourselves, they are for those to whom we give them.  And it is not the the receivers are ungrateful - indeed, they are almost universally very grateful.  What has occurred is that we have created in our own minds a vast and complicated story of how they will be received and what will be understood from them.

So perhaps in reality it is not that we give pathetic little gifts.  Perhaps what has happened is that we have given perfectly good gifts - infused not the joy of giving, but rather with the weight of things they were never meant to bear.

Rabbitude

Tonight as I was watering in the backyard at dusk I noticed a bit of movement down by the fence by where the old fruit tree - mostly dead now - backs into the corner.  The movement resolved itself into a rabbit, sitting in the grass, watching.

I was a bit surprised as it did not start with the water being only five feet away or so - it just sat there, watching me, then hopped more into plain view.  It was plainly there for a reason and plainly not scared of me at all.

I turned to water something else and then looked back - and was surprised to see the rabbit had hopped up to the patch of expiring black-eyed peas that I have growing (they are dying out due to the end the season, not for a lack of watering).  Without further ado he pulled one of the leaves off and sat there devouring it, clearly not at all concerned with what he was doing or if I was likely to chase after him to catch him.

I admit that I was surprised by this boldness.  We have rabbits that visit (I assume that they are the same ones, as in dusk it is difficult to tell them apart) and have become surprisingly nonchalant about our presence there - in fact, sometimes they will simply crouch down in the grass when Syrah the Mighty is there, and then raise back up when she has left.  But I cannot recall a time where I have seen such a blatant move.

It is a bit concerning of course - after all, rabbits eating garden things are things that I am not going to eat.  But I have a soft spot in my heart for these rabbits and can hardly begrudge them for eating something that is dying off anyway.

The whole experience, of course, has given me a new word:  rabbitude.  The act of being bold with panache while knowing that everyone knows that this is atypical behavior for you.

It is the unsurprising that sometimes carries the day - or in this case, the dinner.

Patience

Waiting for morning,moonless air hangs heavier
than the soaring stars.

Abandoning The Cause

There are moments when one feels like abandoning the cause.
It can come in a variety of forms, personal or professional or volunteer or even religious.  It can come after a short period of time, but I think that it comes after a longer time.

Enthusiasm wans.  Little things that were issues getting magnified into larger issues.  The energy to do simply is not there.  Or maybe it is the will.  I am never quite sure of such things.  Bottom line, one simply feels like giving up.  Packing it in and going home.  Locking the door and never going out again.

I have threatened - at least, I have threatened in my mind - to just start driving one day and not come back.  Just keep going until I hit the Pacific and then maybe make a right and head up the coast.  It is fantasy of course, mere stupidity.  After all, I have a fairly extensive list of responsibilities that I have to meet.

Not joys, responsibilities.  It feels like all that my life is dominated by such things at this point.  And that leaves me feeling like simply abandoning the cause.  All of them.

I will not, of course.  I will get up tomorrow because that is what adults do and go do my job and my responsibilities.  Children will be provided for.  Animals will be fed and plants watered.  My job will have the benefit of my attention and I will accomplish my tasks.  Bills will paid.  All the things a responsible person does.

But yes, probably, I will be driving to the Pacific in my mind.

Fall Garden 2015

So today began Fall Garden 2015.

I am somewhat scaling back and recalibrating how I garden.  After I opened up the space nearer to the house in April  I noticed a few things:  It had more exposure to sun, it was easier to weed, and it closer to the house and therefore easier to water.  This has changed how intend to try garden this year.

The space is not huge - perhaps an additional 20 square feet, 2 feet long and 10 feet wide.  It is still a bit planted with some volunteer peppers and tomatoes and the second growth of Sorghum.  Rather than replant the whole thing in winter crops (which will crowd out the spring and summer, which always gets me)  I have decided to narrow my choice to garlic (which always grows), spinach (sometimes yes, sometimes not so much yes), and leeks (never tried here.  Why not?  Leek soup and Leek pie are great!).

The space to north, which is a bit under the neighbors oak, which is usually where I garden, will be partially turned over to barley and winter wheat.  The rest will lie fallow under what is rapidly becoming a fair amount of detrius of dissolved wood pellet bedding (with rabbit urine) mixed with hay and rabbit manure, ready for spring.

My hope? The first is that the change in location will help more things grow.  The second is that with a smaller space to manage, I can cultivate it more productively and intensely.  The third is that by managing my space, I can get more by timing my plantings.

Worst case, at least I will have garlice.

Sorghum Bunny

Under the Sorghum,

baby bunny hides away

dreaming of meadows.

Moths and Flames

I realized today that people are either moths or flames.

Most people are moths: they are irresistibly attracted to the lives of others.  They cluster around the lives of those that are flames, basking in the warm glow of their lives and their existences, which at some fundamental level they substitute for their own.  In fact, they are so entranced by the lives of others that they build their lives around them to the point that their interests, their live, their thoughts are merely the imitation of the flames that they dance about.

But a few people are flames:  they burn brightly with the light of inner achievement and activity.  They are not overly entranced with the lives of others; instead they are comfortable with the fact that they can define their own interests and desires, not have to adopt them whole cloth from the lives of others. They may be bold or subtle, bright or subdued, but they definitely - in their own way - light up the night.

I suppose at some point in life we are either one or the other, either drawn to the lives of others in imitation or burning brightly for ourselves.  Arguably we should always seek to achieve more the status of flame and less the status of a moth.

 Why?  Because when we are so entranced by the flames of our lives that we do not pay attention to how close we are getting to them - and so we are consumed by them.