Idea - Blog my reading highlights.
I've read a lot of classic novels and other books on my kindle. It saves my highlights and the highlights of others.
I will begin with my latest read: Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
In the meantime reflect on this:
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
Monday, May 16, 2016
"Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day."
"Melt the clouds of sin and sadness, Drive the dark of doubt away; Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day." (Henry van Dyke, 1907) Speaking of "ah-ha's", finding in these words from the first verse of the hymn, "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee", the reason I seek God. When I participate in worship, this is what I'm after. When I sit in a Sunday School Class, I want something other than a theory, other than a clever theological discourse, other than an answer regurgitated from the digestion of old seminary classes. I'm after melting and driving and filling. I'm after experiences of "immortal gladness". Is that too much to ask?
We took this photo on our recent sailing trip on the Florida Gulf coast. And when I look at it, this is what my clouds of sin and sadness and the dark of doubt look like. In the midst of them is the light that colors everything. How do you see that light on an ordinary Sabbath Day? Someone has to let you speak of the clouds, of the dark, of sin and sadness, of doubt; and behind doubt, fear, loneliness, hopelessness, you name it. Someone has to say, "I will listen." I seek God to listen to me. So I need the one who represents God, whose place may be called preacher, pastor, vicar, rector, rabbi, priest, to listen me, to us, as we describe the clouds, the dark. One story may be enough to melt the clouds, drive away the dark. One story may be enough to fill with light and even a wee bit of immortal gladness. We who gather before God need and desire nothing less than these miracles. Is that too much to ask?
We took this photo on our recent sailing trip on the Florida Gulf coast. And when I look at it, this is what my clouds of sin and sadness and the dark of doubt look like. In the midst of them is the light that colors everything. How do you see that light on an ordinary Sabbath Day? Someone has to let you speak of the clouds, of the dark, of sin and sadness, of doubt; and behind doubt, fear, loneliness, hopelessness, you name it. Someone has to say, "I will listen." I seek God to listen to me. So I need the one who represents God, whose place may be called preacher, pastor, vicar, rector, rabbi, priest, to listen me, to us, as we describe the clouds, the dark. One story may be enough to melt the clouds, drive away the dark. One story may be enough to fill with light and even a wee bit of immortal gladness. We who gather before God need and desire nothing less than these miracles. Is that too much to ask?
Thursday, September 26, 2013
The one thing you can do is to do nothing. Wait ... You will find that you survive humiliation and that's an experience of incalculable value." T.S. Eliot
Two ideas from the Writers Almanac for today, September 26, 2013:
What if the beautiful days, the good
and pacific temperate moments,
weren't just lovely, but everything?
What if I could let it fall away
in the wake, that ache to extract
meaning from vastness?
"Sailing on Lake Superior" by Kirsten Dierking, from Northern Oracle. © Spout Press, 2007. Reprinted by permission.
And...
The one thing you can do is to do nothing. Wait ... You will find that you survive humiliation and that's an experience of incalculable value." T.S. Eliot
"What if I could let it fall away in the wake, the ache to extract meaning from vastness?" As I sailed a little yesterday, this is exactly what I did and why I sail. I never know what will happen, but what happens mostly is relaxation. The best part of that relaxation is my brain ceases to extract or trying to extract. I observe. I chase the wind. I watch the telltales on the jib and the luff of the mainsail and I am lost in the wind. I hope you will find some wake into which "the ache" may fall away....
Wait...that's what I did and I survived humiliation and what a valuable experience....I'm still surviving, still learning, still discovering "ah-ha's" as I receive the gift of each day. Just finished Kurt Vonnegut's, Slapstick. The alternate title is "Lonely No More". And somewhere he has someone say that the "Now What" humans are created for is to "make this lonely world a little less lonely". I'm beginning, in my surviving, to find ways to be an agent of "Lonely No More". What fun!
Talk again soon,
J
Monday, July 8, 2013
Grant me...the courage to change the things I can
Find the verbs in "the serenity prayer". The common version is:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
the wisdom to know the difference.
Grant...an active verb and something for which God, your higher power, will take responsibility.
After that verb, you'll find three others, all active verbs. And the action belongs to us.
Accept
Change
Know
These difficult actions, acceptance, change and knowing, will be our responsibility, should our higher power grant us the hutzpah to go forward.
I have the most difficulty with change. Lately I've had some insight into why.
First, change means change. Change means I leave something and move to something else. The other day I decided I'd change my wardrobe. I bought two Hawaiian Shirts and a pair of kakis. Now for the change to take effect, I'll have to wear those shirts and the kak's. Just buying them isn't enough. That's just step one, getting ready for real change. Another example. I've let my hair grow out, a little. Why, because I'm playing a gig with two guys whose hair is in a pony tail. The change in my hair has been gradual. Couple of days ago I spotted a sign in Walmart. "Buzz Cut, $10." Tempting, very tempting. But radical, a radical change. I haven't had a Buzz Cut since the 5th grade. Change means change. Going from a little longer version of my haircut to a Buzz: I don't have the courage.
Second, change means work. One reason I don't get the Buzz is all the work I'd have to do to explain why. I'd have to work at accepting the new me. I'd have to work at being the new me. I'd have to work at working out all the implications of the change. That's work.
Finally change means potential experiences of rejection and loneliness. These emotional barriers are the real reason I resist change. Change means facing the emotional barriers I am least able and least willing to handle. And, I'm not just talking about a different haircut. Rejection and loneliness are what I call deep loss emotions. Deep loss evokes grief and grief will have to be processed: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance...the process as outlined by Kubler-Ross. I'll start at a change, experience rejection and loneliness, stop the change, experience the deep loss, process the grief. So when I identify a change I need to make, what's most likely to keep me stuck? Emotional barriers and my lack of fortitude & skill, but mostly courage, to work past the rejection and loneliness I may never experience, but always fear.
So there you have it. Someone has wisely said, "Pray anyway!"
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
the wisdom to know the difference.
Grant...an active verb and something for which God, your higher power, will take responsibility.
After that verb, you'll find three others, all active verbs. And the action belongs to us.
Accept
Change
Know
These difficult actions, acceptance, change and knowing, will be our responsibility, should our higher power grant us the hutzpah to go forward.
I have the most difficulty with change. Lately I've had some insight into why.
First, change means change. Change means I leave something and move to something else. The other day I decided I'd change my wardrobe. I bought two Hawaiian Shirts and a pair of kakis. Now for the change to take effect, I'll have to wear those shirts and the kak's. Just buying them isn't enough. That's just step one, getting ready for real change. Another example. I've let my hair grow out, a little. Why, because I'm playing a gig with two guys whose hair is in a pony tail. The change in my hair has been gradual. Couple of days ago I spotted a sign in Walmart. "Buzz Cut, $10." Tempting, very tempting. But radical, a radical change. I haven't had a Buzz Cut since the 5th grade. Change means change. Going from a little longer version of my haircut to a Buzz: I don't have the courage.
Second, change means work. One reason I don't get the Buzz is all the work I'd have to do to explain why. I'd have to work at accepting the new me. I'd have to work at being the new me. I'd have to work at working out all the implications of the change. That's work.
Finally change means potential experiences of rejection and loneliness. These emotional barriers are the real reason I resist change. Change means facing the emotional barriers I am least able and least willing to handle. And, I'm not just talking about a different haircut. Rejection and loneliness are what I call deep loss emotions. Deep loss evokes grief and grief will have to be processed: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance...the process as outlined by Kubler-Ross. I'll start at a change, experience rejection and loneliness, stop the change, experience the deep loss, process the grief. So when I identify a change I need to make, what's most likely to keep me stuck? Emotional barriers and my lack of fortitude & skill, but mostly courage, to work past the rejection and loneliness I may never experience, but always fear.
So there you have it. Someone has wisely said, "Pray anyway!"
Monday, July 1, 2013
remember ...the smell of fire. I grieve...
Remembering BRAG...Bicycle Ride Across Georgia...because we showered every night in the same shower trailers that served the firefighters in the western US. The showers smelled like fire. When I showered, I remembered the long ride, the long road. The smell made me ponder the relative safety of a casual bike ride and the howling horror of fire.
Yes, we faced danger on the road, but for them loomed death in the fire. I grieve their deaths: fire fighters who, like us, cooled their souls, showered in the water.
Remember the showers, the soul refreshing showers of water, remember those who fight the most dangerous wonder known to human life: fire.
Yes, we faced danger on the road, but for them loomed death in the fire. I grieve their deaths: fire fighters who, like us, cooled their souls, showered in the water.
Remember the showers, the soul refreshing showers of water, remember those who fight the most dangerous wonder known to human life: fire.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Follow the Skittles...How ET got Home
ET followed the Skittles and got home. We long for home and there's some Rube Goldberg construction that gets us there. Look at all the unlikely stuff that comes together for ET. A little boy, a bag of something an ET has never tasted before, but like most mysterious stuff offered by well intentioned, it works, it gets ET from one place to the next. Then there's the phonograph thing and somehow it generates a signal and a message and somehow the message leaps through the unknown and somehow links up with home. Prayer maybe? Is this how prayer works?
I've gone back to the Jesus Prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon me." I read the story of a young man on a spiritual quest who found a monk wandering in a forest. The young man asked the monk if it was possible to pray without ceasing. That was his quest, to pray without ceasing. The monk said yes and eventually taught the young man the Jesus Prayer. He told him to pray the prayer 12,000 times a day, day after day; until the prayer filled every moment.
ET then takes that wild bicycle ride. Wouldn't you love to have such transportation? Ever dream you can fly? Isn't that every dream: flying through some unknown where you are everything in the dream, everything all at once. Sailing through the light of the super moon and beyond, returning to shadow and earth and the place so grounded that even the unknown and ultimately mysterious can find you right there where the bicycle lands.
I cried during ET, not once but kinda got started and just couldn't stop. All the wonder-mystery bound together in boundless love and a dream coming true because a little boy and an unlikely stranger worked and worked and worked to pray it all into reality- that always makes me cry. ET Home. Yes, ET HOME.
See any Skittles lying around? I see them or I see something. What is that?
I've gone back to the Jesus Prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon me." I read the story of a young man on a spiritual quest who found a monk wandering in a forest. The young man asked the monk if it was possible to pray without ceasing. That was his quest, to pray without ceasing. The monk said yes and eventually taught the young man the Jesus Prayer. He told him to pray the prayer 12,000 times a day, day after day; until the prayer filled every moment.
ET then takes that wild bicycle ride. Wouldn't you love to have such transportation? Ever dream you can fly? Isn't that every dream: flying through some unknown where you are everything in the dream, everything all at once. Sailing through the light of the super moon and beyond, returning to shadow and earth and the place so grounded that even the unknown and ultimately mysterious can find you right there where the bicycle lands.
I cried during ET, not once but kinda got started and just couldn't stop. All the wonder-mystery bound together in boundless love and a dream coming true because a little boy and an unlikely stranger worked and worked and worked to pray it all into reality- that always makes me cry. ET Home. Yes, ET HOME.
See any Skittles lying around? I see them or I see something. What is that?
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Reading Mark Twain, "Life on the Missippi" or how a mentor makes all the difference no matter how difficult the life
Life on the Missippi gives Mark Twain's account of how he became a steamboat pilot, and a fully formed adult: lesson by hard lesson. Reading his story I see the good life earned by an effort engaging every possible latent gift and talent, creating new gifts and talents as necessary, using one's whole person to attain a personal dream, delighting in the difficult drama of growing responsibility and deepening awareness of capability.
Twain's success seems due in large measure to his mentor, the licensed Steamboat Pilot who took Twain on as a "cub". I attribute my success to my mentors, licensed preachers, old hands who knew everything from how to dress (I didn't), to how to act among those of higher station (I didn't), and who revealed to me the "yes, but how" of ministry, in all its complexity. A mentor is the greatest gift a chosen dream can contain. Pay attention to this gift. Open it, use it, play with it; never letting a day go by that the mentor doesn't surprise you, challenge you, teach you, and say to you, in some way, perhaps spoken, but not necessarily, "You're important. I care about you." Remember your mentors. When you give thanks, give thanks for them.
My mentors kept the game interesting. I could have gone out on my on and tried to do it my way. I doubt I'd have lasted five years. I'd have quit from boredom. Having mentors meant learning new ways, pushing aside old ideas, finding viens of gold in the oddest places and mining them with the strangest tools and using the raw, rare discovery to shape something worth the creative investment.
I need a new mentor. I don't need a guitar buddy or golf buddy or a sailing buddy. I need a mentor who knows this river named retirement. I need help keeping the game interesting, or else I doubt I'll last five years. "Ask and you shall receive, knock and the door will be opened".
Twain's success seems due in large measure to his mentor, the licensed Steamboat Pilot who took Twain on as a "cub". I attribute my success to my mentors, licensed preachers, old hands who knew everything from how to dress (I didn't), to how to act among those of higher station (I didn't), and who revealed to me the "yes, but how" of ministry, in all its complexity. A mentor is the greatest gift a chosen dream can contain. Pay attention to this gift. Open it, use it, play with it; never letting a day go by that the mentor doesn't surprise you, challenge you, teach you, and say to you, in some way, perhaps spoken, but not necessarily, "You're important. I care about you." Remember your mentors. When you give thanks, give thanks for them.
My mentors kept the game interesting. I could have gone out on my on and tried to do it my way. I doubt I'd have lasted five years. I'd have quit from boredom. Having mentors meant learning new ways, pushing aside old ideas, finding viens of gold in the oddest places and mining them with the strangest tools and using the raw, rare discovery to shape something worth the creative investment.
I need a new mentor. I don't need a guitar buddy or golf buddy or a sailing buddy. I need a mentor who knows this river named retirement. I need help keeping the game interesting, or else I doubt I'll last five years. "Ask and you shall receive, knock and the door will be opened".
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