(r)evolutions

The Practice of Being Human

2009-03-20T14:12:00.001-04:00

"The journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet," according to Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu. Likewise, the journey toward full experience of living as a human being begins within one's heart. I would also say this journey is all about the heart - specifically about learning to open one's heart to life, regardless of the situation. I can think of no better definition of what it means to be fully human than to learn to relate to oneself and others gently and with compassion.

Nonviolent Communication, the body of work pioneered by Dr. Marshall Rosenberg, offers a skillful means to navigate this journey of the heart. Many people are familiar with the forms of NVC, and are aware of the “Observation – Feeling – Need – Request” construct for communicating. Going a bit beyond this form, we can relate to NVC consciousness as a way to support our self-awareness and development of compassion for ourselves and others.

The first step on this journey toward living from an open heart is to make friends with ourselves. We can become aware of how our habitual patterns of behavior are grounded in long conditioning, and notice when we are triggered by situations that do not align with our deep-seated beliefs. We can begin to recognize strong emotions, suffering, and despair as pointers to our longing for wholeness, and treat ourselves with a light touch. We can build this awareness into an aspiration to learn a new way of relating with the world, one that is life-affirming and fundamentally cheerful.

Once we begin to treat ourselves more gently, we naturally begin to extend this same compassion to others. We can be very intentional about our personal interactions, beginning with the simple yet profound act of listening with presence. We can discover for ourselves the beauty and power of really being there for another person, letting go of our own storyline and agenda and becoming fully present to what’s alive for another. Even in moments of conflict, anger, and sorrow, we can maintain compasssion for ourselves and others.

Having made friends with ourselves and begun to treat others with gentle compassion, we can embark on a dance of life that accommodates all of the ups and downs of our daily existence with spaciousness and grace. We can invite others to join us, supporting each other as we take many first steps on this journey of life as a human being, a journey whose distance could never be measured in miles.

I'm sharing some practices for this journey of life during a four-session class called Connecting Compassionately with Ourselves and Others in Manassas, VA starting on April 23. Follow the link if you'd like to know more.

Dr. Zelda Jeanne Rouillard, 1929 - 2008

2009-01-04T15:36:00.010-05:00

Zelda Jeanne Ryan was born to Calvin and Marie Ryan in Kearney, Nebraska in 1929. She followed in her father’s footsteps as an English professor, attaining her B.A. in English at Kearney State College, studying as a Fulbright Scholar in Exeter, England, earning her M.A. in English at the University of Wyoming, and earning her PhD in English from the University of Colorado.

While a student at CU, Zelda met Theodore Chase Rouillard, and they were married in June of 1959. They lived in Nederland, Colorado for a number of years, and Zelda taught English at Nederland High School and North High School in Denver. Their son Gregory was born in Boulder in 1966.

In 1969, Zelda and her family moved to Gunnison, Colorado, and she began her long and distinguished career at Western State College. For almost forty years Zelda served the college community, teaching a multitude of undergraduate and graduate English courses, serving as chair of the English department for 6 years, and famously serving as the Commencement Faculty Marshal for nearly three decades. She retired from WSC in 2005, and has spent the last few years “sucking the marrow out of life” in her travels around the world.

Zelda was also very involved in a number of volunteer groups and professional associations, most notably Delta Kappa Gamma and the American Association of University Women (AAUW). She held offices and received honors at the local, state, and national level in these organizations.

Away from the campus, Zelda was active in the Dos Rios I Homeowners Association, serving in a variety of offices over the years. She also displayed great generosity to organizations such as the Community Foundation of the Gunnison Valley, the University of Nebraska Foundation, Habitat for Humanity, Colorado State University Foundation, the Nature Conservancy, the ASPCA, the Colorado Historical Society, the Gunnison Valley Animal Welfare League, and numerous other local, regional, and national causes.

Zelda leaves a tremendous legacy in the many lives she has touched as a teacher, mentor, colleague, and friend. She lived every day of her life with courage, gusto, and devotion, giving tirelessly of herself to her family, her friends, and her profession. She died unexpectedly and peacefully of a sudden heart attack. At the last moment of her life, Zelda was “bubbling with excitement” about a recent trip, displaying the boundless enthusiasm for life that so many of us will miss. Her life and death are a tribute to what it means to be fully human, and provide an example of living that all of us can aspire to follow.

Beloved “Grandma Zelda” is survived by her son Gregory, daughter-in-law Cynthia, grandchildren Ryan and Katy, and feline companions Archimedes and Black Kitty.

If you would like to make a financial contribution in memory of this grand lady, your donation in her name to one of these organizations is greatly appreciated.

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) is the world's largest voluntary health organization dedicated to funding blood
cancer research, education, and patient services. Zelda is a lymphoma survivor.

Family HEART Camp is a week-long community experience in Northern Virginia for parents and children who are longing for more Harmony, Ease, Authenticity, Respect, and Trust in their families. Zelda’s son Gregory is one of the organizers of Family HEART Camp.

Zelda's life will be celebrated by family, friends, and community members at 2 PM on Monday, January 5, in the Quigley Recital Hall on the campus of Western State College in Gunnison, CO.

sticking it out

2008-12-11T20:40:00.004-05:00

tonight my best teacher has taught me about
this wonderful practice called "sticking it out"

through four score bewildering subtraction facts
and a stethescope, candle, two distracting cats

wishing to be somewhere else but at home
as my mind like a dog chewed and worried its bone

"just do it my way, my way is the best"
"if you don't learn it now, then you'll fail the test!"

as longer and longer dragged on this ordeal
a teaching arose with great tidings of weal

and once i let go of that story i know
about right and wrong and your way is too slow

we figured together, my teacher and i
that cooperation is sweeter than pie

we discovered another great opportune chance
to notice that being alive is a dance

that flows to its very own rhythm and yet
encourages each of us not to forget

that sticking it out, as in putting in time
means practicing patience, a jewel that may shine

and sticking it out, as in risking what's new
opens doors to the world left unlocked by so few

so next time i notice frustration and doubt
i hope i'll remember to

just stick it out

Millions of the One Eye

2008-12-02T10:01:00.004-05:00

if you take a walk some night on a suburban street

pass house after house each with the lamplight of the living room shining golden

inside, the little blue square of the television, each living familiy riveting its attention on probably

one show

nobody talking

silence in the yards

dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet instead of on wheels

everybody in the world is soon going to be thinking the same way

one thing I'll say for the millions and millions of the One Eye

they're not hurting anyone while they're sitting in front of that Eye

adapted from The Dharma Bums, by Jack Kerouac

waking up

2008-10-01T15:13:00.000-04:00

you woke me up this morning
to swallow a glass of bitterness
and dress me up in red and blue

choking on too much water and too much help
i say yes to lying with my face in the pillow
can you hear me now?

i woke you up this morning
with love in my heart and time on my mind
too much too little…too late?

encountering resistance
no No NO!
i can’t hear you any more

together we came apart
apart we come together
nurture our hurts and still

hugs and kisses we both need
i love you i love you too
trust on two sides of a closed door

waking up

Finding the Ground

2008-09-29T11:28:00.002-04:00

One of my favorite passages from the Tao te Ching is "a journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet."

Here's a simple suggestion for finding the ground of a journey along the path of compassion and authenticity:

Breathe.

I find this advice so useful that I've written it on the white board in my kitchen, in bold red letters:

breathe

Now every time I come into the kitchen I have this reminder that all I have to do is breathe. It doesn't matter if I'm distracted by all the "doing" in my life, frustrated when I see the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, or delighted by the antics of the kittens - I can just breathe.

Noticing my breath brings me back to the present moment - again and again. The subtle feeling of air swishing in and out brings awareness of my body, and confidence that I'm a human being, not a human doing. Lungs expanding and contracting remind me to keep my feet on the ground and moving along the path.

Noticing the breath is also fertile ground for relating to other people. Sometimes when I find myself triggered by interaction with another person, I remember to breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Ahh... Discursive thoughts, "shoulds," and judgments become clear for what they are; spaciousness, self-connection, and compassion arise.

The best thing about breathing? It's always there - all I have to do is notice it.

Like the ground beneath my feet.

Who's the guy with the beard?

2008-06-21T18:43:00.003-04:00

I recently retired after 20 years in the Marine Corps, and had a unique and very enjoyable retirement ceremony. Here's what it was like.

The typical Marine retirement consists mainly of the retiring officer telling the story of the retiree's military career, saying what a great guy he is, and pinning on a medal. Then the retiree gets to talk, thanking his family, boss, coworkers, etc. Then everyone eats BBQ or chicken wings, and talks about work until it's time to leave.

Being anything but a typical Marine, of course I wanted my ceremony to be different. First of all, no BBQ. I've been to so many retirements where I ate a coleslaw sandwich (or the like), I decided to have my reception catered from a vegetarian restaurant. Second, rather than talk, I wanted to play my guitar and sing. Finally, I wanted my Marine friends to hear about the rest of my life outside the Corps.

So I invited four close friends from my "other lives" - Bull Run UUs, The Shambhala Center of Washington D.C, the Capitol NVC Organizing Team, and the Men's Council of Washington D.C. - to talk after the Colonel had his say. And there was a twist - I asked them to relate how they experience their relationships with me, rather than talk about my activities and accomplishments. My desire here was to paint a picture of a human being as well as a human doing.

It was everything I wished for - Reverend Nancy, Larry, Jeanne, and Duane all spoke from the heart, and I experienced great joy in bringing together so many diverse people in one place. This was really an opportunity to practice integrity - no chance to play any role but "I am" with people from every corner of my life in the room.

Once everyone had spoken, I had little to say. I gave flowers and gifts to my loved ones, spoke my gratitude and appreciation for all who had spoken, and performed an original song in honor of my contractor buddies (now fellow contractors). Then we ate vegetarian food, drank organic juice, and talked about UUism, buddhism, NVC, and men's work until it was time to go home.

Funny thing, all the Marines seemed to leave right away - I guess they missed the BBQ and beer.

Swimming in the Heart

2008-05-20T13:16:00.002-04:00

Sometimes, when I park my car under the cut leaf maple
the dew or rain drops the branches to star my windshield in the morning.
If I can't be loved, I will try to be useful.

Sometimes I wake to birdsong in the morning and I see them sing the sun to rosy rising. I don't need truth, I need faith in the things that move me closer to who I want to be.

Sometimes my children come into my bed in the morning and their sleepy arms go round me. Love is the purpose, God is the thing between us, good or bad, I struggle to create a just and loving God.

The Hermits in the mountains miss the point, why try to stay dry in the ocean, learn to swim.

- heart words from Mary ep k

4.29

2008-04-29T12:38:00.000-04:00

impermanent love
with broken heart of sadness
finds a cheerful path

walking on a sacred path

2008-03-23T10:05:00.002-04:00

walking on a sacred path
delight in the magic don't move too fast

on the feet of a tiger
with the heart of a lion
borne up on garuda's wings
by dragon's vast mind

building bridges

2008-03-22T22:44:00.000-04:00

brick by brick we build our walls
fortresses of doubt and fear
abandoning our dignity
in sanctuary so austere

confined in solitary pain
cut off from the human race
afraid to look through cracks and see
another one’s familiar face

separated by these walls
we hide our vulnerability
living lives of make believe
pretending to be truly free

imprisoned brick by brick inside
dreams of hope and fear we make
true freedom also ours to choose
should we dare become awake

and let awareness illuminate
what lay in shadow all around
the brilliant light reveals a word
so ordinary and profound

waking up inside these walls
so solid once so tall and wide
now look again and realize
bricks can lead the way outside

so brick by brick tear down your walls
lay the rubble 'neath your feet
with courage reach beyond your fear
embrace the possibility

of bridging all our differences
a world of sanity and peace
where loving-kindness cradles us
a new day dawning in the east

building bridges out of walls
is sacred work for you and me
so take a chance and trust in love
and make a world that’s fair and free

Meditations (written by Katy on Valentine's Day)

2008-02-14T20:26:00.000-05:00

when you're in the sky sitting on a cloud
you may see the birds circling you
on Valentine's Day

do you notice that the birds are making a heart
just for Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day
is the best
is the best
we make hearts

when we fall in to the water
and feel the water push us out of room
when the water pushes us out of room

you may scream you may sit there
you may meditate
what is the answer?

meditation!

warrior's heart

2008-02-02T08:14:00.000-05:00

taking my seat
on my throne

connected to earth
back - straight strong and fearless

connected to heaven
chest stomach and all - open soft and vulnerable

joining heaven and earth
tender heart of sadness

warrior's heart
genuine

breath in my body

cool jack

2008-01-07T21:19:00.000-05:00

nothing can be more dreary than "coolness"

postured, secretly rigid coolness
that covers up the fact that the character is
unable to convey anything of force or interest

a kind of sociological coolness
a fad up into the mass of
middleclass youth for awhile

when I said to the Paris girl just fresh
she said from visiting a Persian shah for a Tiger hunt
"did you actually shoot the tiger yourself?"

she gave me a
cold look as tho I'd just tried to
kiss her at the window of a Drama School.

or tried to trip the Huntress.

or something.

but all I could do was sit on the
edge of the bed in despair listening
to their awful "likes" and "like you know"

and "wow crazy" and "a wig, man"
"a real gas"

dreary

(adapted from Chapter 58 of Jack Kerouac's Desolation Angels)

Living From an Open Heart

2007-10-19T14:54:00.000-04:00

Our modern human society functions in an environment of mistrust, fear, and exclusion, in which we are often unable or unwilling to make deep personal connections with each other. We let our fear of vulnerability lock us into our own cocoons of personalized suffering, and we turn to material acquisitiveness, violent and dehumanizing entertainment, and immediate gratification of desire to salve our loneliness. These strategies often bring further suffering to ourselves and others, perpetuating this cycle.

There is good news, however: this heartbreaking state of affairs is not our permanent condition, nor does it reflect our true nature as human beings. We have the opportunity to look beyond our everyday clouds of pain and promise to find the golden brilliance of our basic nature, and connect with others when we see theirs. When we take responsibility for our own state of mind and become aware of the world around us, we can break out of our shells of fear and seclusion. When we courageously accept the risk of becoming vulnerable, we can pry open our armored hearts and show our true selves. When we open ourselves to others in this way, we can wake up to a new day where the dawning sun shines on a world of love, laughter, integrity, and joy in the incomparable richness of meaningful human connection. We can begin this transformation and enrich our lives by deepening our understanding and acceptance of ourselves and each other.

Often we let the things that others do get in the way of our connections with them, becoming so committed to reacting to their actions that we forget about our relationships and common humanity. We might also treat ourselves very harshly, judging and criticizing ourselves when we act in ways that do not support our values. We can begin to break out of these habitual patterns by viewing our own actions, as well as those of other people, as strategies to meet shared, universal human needs. Some of our strategies may be very effective in meeting our own needs, but contribute to the suffering of others by not helping them meet their own needs. Likewise, when we suffer from the actions of others, it is because our needs are not being met.

Human needs are universal and abstract, experienced by everyone and part of our shared humanity. Each person is ultimately responsible for meeting his or her needs, and the actions of others may contribute to these needs being either met or unmet. When our needs are met, we experience feelings such as joy, gratitude, satisfaction, and happiness. Unmet needs trigger feelings such as sadness, frustration, sorrow, and anger. We often tend to characterize feelings arising from needs that are met as “good” and those associated with unmet needs as “bad,” which may be useful in a relative sense. In the absolute, however, all feelings are neutral – they are indicators of our state of being and provide feedback on how well our needs are being met.

Learning to identify our own feelings and the met or unmet needs they herald is an important aspect of self-awareness. With time and practice, and a willingness to be patient with ourselves, we can develop a gentle acceptance of our own state of mind and begin living from an open heart. This allows us to ground our selves and our interactions with other people in an awareness of feelings and needs, connecting with ourselves and each other in a much deeper way. Once we’ve made this connection, conflicts can be transformed into joint strategies that are much more likely to meet everyone’s needs.

The more people who choose to live a life of integrity and connection from an open heart, the more likely we humans are to realize the vision of a world of sanity, peace, and hope. So reach beyond your fear and suffering, and practice being human when you can - you might just save the world.

a dog's life

2007-06-18T14:32:00.000-04:00

she lies on sun warm wood
relaxed yet alert -- aware

jaws snap at flies venturing near
ears twitch at rustling leaves

brown eyes scan the yard
hoping for a rabbit, perhaps

or maybe for me to go inside
her chance to run, be free

off around the yard she goes
nose to the ground, tail held high

returning outside my call is too late
she lopes across the street

following a scent or idea unknown to me
calling her again is futile

only time will bring her back to the porch
to lie in the sunshine once again

The Digital Deathtrap

2007-06-18T14:25:00.000-04:00

From a custom bicycle wheel website, of all places:

It was never in our blueprint that we would spend our days driving to and from a job, the grocery store, and sit like a stone the rest of the time, or that we would eat high glycemic refined carbohydrates and high fat foods almost exclusively. This age of distraction from our natural diet and exercise has created a deathtrap situation that we're largely unaware of due to its gradual onset.
Today's common "plagues" such as cancer, osteoporosis arterialsclerosis, adult onset diabetes, hypertension, depression and obesity were all but unheard of just one hundred years ago. Like a modern age Bugs Bunny cartooon spun horribly out of control with "labor saving" devices, we've taken the concepts way beyond our ability to judge their true efficacy and understand the unintended results of our tinkering. For every great man who invents something, like the lightbulb, there needs to be an equally great man to tell us to turn off the light and get to sleep so as not to ruin our circadian rhythms. Since profit motive reigns supreme, this simply will not happen. The greatest insult, in my opinion is the genetic manipulation of fruits and vegetables (our "manna" from heaven) so that even they lack nature's blueprint, just to make
them look better. Have you eaten a trans-genic red "Delicious" apple lately... they taste terrible! Talk about eating from the forbidden tree, such defective intelligence doesn't even have to be labeled in this country... buyer beware!
Defective intelligence often stems from the broad acceptance of narrow minded "reductionist" science that claims to be the truth. Do you think it's the ultimate idea to say "all other things aside, this truth exists" when nothing remains by itself without outside influences. Every other week the "scientists" come up with a new expensive patented drug, (tested in a reduced to neutral environment claimed to relieve some obtuse condition (usually a digital age condition)) while ignoring the whole intelligence of the human system. The result is rather like the little Dutch boy whose finger in the leaky dike only causes some other leak to spring up once your run out of fingers, you're done for. Life can be just as accurately viewed as a system, a cooperative synergy with all parts interdependant. But remove or change too much and the synergy collapses into a competition for survival. Thankfully it's not too late and you don't have to be a part of the headlong rush to extinction, (the age of the 21
year old heart attack victim is almost upon us).
The most important thing to break the digitial distraction is physical play, as opposed to simply entertainment. Skating, skiing, biking, racketball, volleyball, and hockey are examples of play. Movies, video games, restaurants, gadgetryand new cars are
examples of entertainnment. Play is usually cheap, healthy, and recharges your batteries. Entertainment usually earns you more fat, debt, and digital disease. This may sound like anticommercialism, but isn't it up to you to decide what is or is isn't in your best interest, not some advertising hype. No one can really protect your best interests but you - most are really just after your money or power. There is a great societal pressure to convince you that you can't do more with less. No one is spending millions of dollars to tell you that a simple diet and lifestyle will further your health, wealth and wisdom far beyond the empty promises of the latest pill, gadget, or automobile.
The efforts to separate you from your money also separate you from your "game". Life is both work and play in balance, both sides bleeding into each other. When you
settle for entertainment instead of play, you give up your natural relationship with your body and environment. Fatter poorer and distracted, you have to work twice as hard on that digital treadmill just to keep up. Natural health and motivation can become a distant memory.
Astonishingly, our generation, on many levels is becoming the poorest to ever walk this planet. We have eliminated many of the "labors" that contribute to our well being and in doing so have placed an awesome responsibility on each of our shoulders. Human beings are not just a formless mind floating around.
There is no boundary between mind, body and environment - use or lose is the only option. Once you stop living the digital treadmill all factors bleed together again; body, mind and environment work as a system again as you get fitter, faster and happier... Welcome to planet Earth!

Get out and play.

Competition...

2007-05-23T12:53:00.000-04:00

...An event in which there are more losers than winners. Otherwise it's not a competition. A society based on competition is therefore primarily a society based on losers.

- John Ralston Saul

Words Are Windows, the song

2007-05-08T10:27:00.000-04:00

Last week I posted the poem "Words Are Windows (or They're Walls)", by Ruth Bebermyer. Over the weekend, I diligently worked on the melody and chords for the song I heard in my head, and now I have a song! But the words have changed...

In Chapter 4 of the NVC book I'm reading, "Identifying and Expressing Feelings," Marshall Rosenberg talks about the difference among feelings, beliefs, and evaluations (which I would call judgments). He makes the point that feeling words relate to a person's emotional state, while beliefs and evaluations are more related to a person's perception of a situation. When a person uses the expression "I feel..." followed by a belief or evaluation rather than an emotional state, there are two likely results: first, the belief or evaluation (which might be incorrect) is somehow justified or given more weight by the listener as a feeling; second, this type of statement produces a defensive reaction in the listener by inferring blame or responsibilty for the situation and the speaker's belief or evaluation. It is much more accurate and effective to state the belief or evaluation, and the feeling caused by it, separately and clearly.

So while I was working on memorizing the words to Ruth Bebermyer's poem, I noticed something. The first two lines of the poem - "I feel so sentenced by your words, I feel so judged and sent away" and the line in the last verse "If you feel I didn't care" are examples of evaluations stated as feelings! We don't really know what the speaker is feeling, but she/he makes the evaluation that she is being judged and sent away by the listener in the first case, and that the listener doesn't care in the second.

Is it a big deal in a poem or a song? Probably not - but I'm a bit obsessive sometimes so I changed the words, as well as cleaning up the grammar and some other things. Enjoy!

The words you use they sentence me
Judged, convicted, sent away
Before I go I have to know
Is that what you mean to say?

Before I rise to my defense
Before I speak in hurt or fear
Before I build that wall of words
Tell me, did I really hear?

Words are windows, or they’re walls
They sentence us, or set us free
When I speak and when I hear
Let the love light shine through me

There are things I need to say
Things that mean so much to me
If my words don’t make me clear
Will you help me to be free?

If I seem to put you down
If you think I didn’t care
Try to listen through my words
To the feelings that we share

Words are windows, or they’re walls
They sentence us, or set us free
When I speak and when I hear
Let the love light shine through me
When I speak and when I hear
Let the love light shine through me

Words are Windows (or They're Walls)

2007-05-04T10:46:00.000-04:00

by Ruth Bebermeyer

This poem appears in Marshall Rosenberg's book "Nonviolent Communications."

I feel so sentenced by your words,
I feel so judged and sent away,
Before I go I’ve got to know
Is that what you mean to say?

Before I rise to my defense,
Before I speak in hurt or fear,
Before I build that wall of words,
Tell me, did I really hear?

Words are windows, or they’re walls,
They sentence us, or set us free.
When I speak and when I hear,
Let the love light shine through me.

There are things I need to say,
Things that mean so much to me,
If my words don’t make me clear,
Will you help me to be free?

If I seemed to put you down,
If you felt I didn’t care,
Try to listen through my words
To the feelings that we share.

When I first read it the other night, I immediately heard it in my head as a song - I can't wait to get my guitar out this evening and put it together.

Your Cup's Runnin' Over

2007-04-13T10:43:00.000-04:00

Your cup's been runnin' over baby
Is that the way you wanna be

Your cup it's runnin' over baby
Life like that it just ain't free

But just one thing momma
Don't go sloppin' it on me

Your cup's still runnin' over baby
You're runnin' round from place to place

That cup just keeps overflowin,
You're livin' life like it's a race

I just gotta say it momma
That mess you're makin' it's a waste

Bouncing around like you've lost your grip
If you don't take it easy baby you're gonna trip
Carryin' that cup and drinkin' your fill
If you don't slow down momma I swear you're gonna spill

Your cup keeps runnin over baby
instead of more try some less

That cup is positively drippin darlin'
I swear you're makin' such a mess

I just gotta say one more thing momma
Try sayin' no instead of yes

Your cup keeps runnin' over baby
Pretty soon I guarantee

I'll get enough of bein' saturated
So don't go spillin' it on me

Yeah I'm tired of bein' saturated
So quit sloppin' that stuff all over me

Life in the PredniZone

2007-04-12T15:00:00.000-04:00

About two weeks ago, I had an attack of extreme vertigo that lasted about 12 hours. It was accompanied by severe nausea, vomiting, and hearing loss and tinnitus (ringing) in my left ear. In the meantime the vertigo has subsided, leaving me feeling foggy-headed, fatigued, and a general malaise. The hearing problems are also still there, along with sensitivity to loud noises. Today’s the first day I can really say I’ve felt “good” (other than being tired and the constant noise in my ear) this month.

The diagnosis from an ENT doctor is Meniere’s Disease, characterized by periodic vertigo attacks, fluctuating tinnitus, and hearing loss. There is no known cause or cure, but Meniere’s is generally thought to be associated with fluid imbalance in the inner ear. Treatment is usually aimed in that direction, so I’m taking Prednisone (a steroidal anti-inflammatory) and Maxzide (water pills or diuretic). I’m also supposed cut out caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol, and eat a low sodium diet. Fortunately for me (or unfortunately?) none of the first three apply so all I have left is cutting back on salt. Say adios to the Tostito Hint of Lime Tortilla Chips!

Now that I have a day where I actually feel pretty good, I can laugh about some of the things associated with this adventure. To be sure, it’s been a miserable couple of weeks in many regards, and the constant ringing in my ear can be maddening, particularly at night. But eating is really funny.

One of the side effects of Prednisone is increased appetite. I don’t mean just being a little hungrier, I mean being ravenous pretty much all of the time. Over the last few days my wife has described my eating as “tearing into food” as I’ve never done before. I don’t want to eat like this – I try to slow down – but I can’t help myself!

Last night I went to a church board meeting (one thing I felt I just couldn’t miss), and by the end I was really wiped out and it was all I could do to drive home. What kept me going, interestingly, was a robust food fantasy about the Honeydew melon and fresh lime I’d bought the day before. I could just picture walking in the kitchen, pulling out the knife, cutting the melon into delicious green curves, and soaking it all in fresh lime juice.

So when I got home, that’s what I did – to my wife’s great amusement as she tried to talk to me and I just gave the “back off” hand signal as I devoured the helpless melon. Once I was finished we laughed about it while I looked around for something else to eat and turned the lime rind inside out to get the last bit of juicy stuff. Fortunately, we have lots of fruit and veggies around, so hopefully I won’t end up 200 pounds after all this.

You know, there’s still another half melon in the fridge, so I gotta’ go!

the sun is shining

2007-03-30T14:34:00.000-04:00

despite the swirling
thrumming confusion

regardless of thoughts
poor me - why me

benind the clouds
of disorientation and frustration

timeless minutes on the cushion
reveal, as usual

the sun is shining

The Opening Door

2007-03-07T19:30:00.000-05:00

11:30 AM and we're done early. I don't want to sit around Yuma until almost 7 to fly out.

I call USAir and sit on hold for about 30 minutes. Brad finally picks up, asks for my reservation number, and then asks me to hold again while my call is transferred "to a desk that can handle it." After about 5 more minutes of bad music and exhortations to travel to Vegas and Europe, Jackie picks up, gets into her system, and tells me the next flight is at

12:30 PM and it's now too late to make it.
Fine, I guess I'll go visit my old houses and maybe see a movie. I drive out to the foothills, check out my older house (lived there from 92 to 95) - now it's a pretty ugly dark brown/red color. When we sold it, it was covered in a pretty attractive cream stucco. The tree in the back yard certainly has done well. Look, it's for sale again. I sure wish I had brought my guitar or had a bike to ride I still have a lot of time to kill because it's
1:30 PM so I drive back towards town to see our more recent home.
This is our "dream house" where we were going to live when we came back here for my squadron command tour, and possibly retire in because we loved it so much. They're building a new high school about half a mile away, so that would have been a good plan. This house looks better than when we sold it - they've taken good care of the yard. I can see the tree in the backyard over the roof - a sapling when we lived here. I miss this house, so drive away to escape the tears before it's too late, like
2:30 PM and I'm in the new movie theater downtown.
I take my seat for 90 minutes of escapism with Jim Carrey and the number 23 - it's freaky and unsettling, and more interesting than I expected. It takes my mind off how much emotion I'm carrying about being back in this place, this home of broken dreams and might have beens. I haven't been to a movie by myself for such a long time and there's only one other person in the theater, no wonder because it's March and only
3:30 PM and I've just learned who wrote the book.
I didn't see that coming. Walking out into the light as always is a surprise - remember when we only went to movies at night? At least it's not hot, like the one time leaving the old theater on 4th Ave and 16th St in the middle of a summer afternoon, going to a movie during the day during the week because I was flying late at night and didn't have to be at work until about
4:30 PM and I've had no luck with getting food to take to the airport.
Seems they roll the streets up here at 4, at least that's when Nature's Deli closes. Remember the Block Party, selling beer to benefit the YFAA and enjoying the show, hundreds of friendly strangers on the Main Street Mall but they're all gone now because the city is tearing up the pedestrian mall to make it back into a street. The guy at the guitar shop last night said he thinks it's mighty suspicious how the city tore up the street right before the big winter season and drove all these businesses out just in time to snap up the land before they open the new Riverwalk and build the new conference center. No time to look for food somewhere else because I need to be at the airport by
5:30 PM and I've been at the airport for an hour.
I drop my car off when the girl on the phone said to but I still get charged the extra hour. That's B.S. Oh well, I figure I'll check my bag then go find a place other than the airport to hang out, maybe get some food, before my flight leaves. Of course there's nobody at the counter, and when she finally appears she has nothing good to say - the flight is delayed at least an hour and oh by the way once I check my bags I can't leave the airport - security, you know. So what am I going to do I'm hungry don't want to drag my bags around Yuma until
6:30 PM is still over an hour away but I better get some food.
I go to the airport cafeteria to find that the grill is closed and the only thing they have without meat is the grilled cheese sandwich, which of course she can't make. I sarcastically reply "of course, why would you be able to" and her look of reproach

stops...............

.........my..........

...............clock

I stagger away under the weight of my shame and the sudden awareness that I've thought this whole day has been about me and the things that were happening to me but

Of course I'm not the center of the universe, no matter how much little me wants it. The universe puts lots of pointers out there, little signposts that once in awhile I notice
Life is the Path, life is the Dharma, life is Practice. So get on with it.

The door to the tight little room where I keep my heart creaks open a bit wider and I go back to order the salad and fruit I saw in the cafeteria. She accepts my apology without words and brings me my food, which is good because I'll be hungry by the time this is published

Million Dollar Dreams

2007-02-10T19:30:00.000-05:00

million dollar dream of old

flight of fancy and desire

million dollar dream more bold

arising purpose so much higher

million dollar dreams unfold

to give away not to acquire

Just Look Around

2007-01-29T15:04:00.000-05:00

You don’t need… anybody telling you
What to believe… it’s right there in front of you

Look around
Just look around

Open your eyes and just look around

See everything right from the ground
A flower in bloom is such a beautiful sight
Trees tall and green and birds in flight
Soar up to the sky where clouds sail by
Just pay attention and you’ll see why

You don’t need… anybody telling you
What to believe… it’s right there in front of you
Look around
Just look around

But there’s more to life than meets the eye
Sometimes you’ve got to look inside
Taking your seat breathing in and out
Notice thoughts and feelings that come about
When you open your heart and open your mind
If you dig deep enough then you will find

Churches and creeds don’t know everything that’s true
You got to believe what you find inside of you
Look around
Just look around

Look around and eventually
You’ll see we’re connected one big family
Through a powerful bond deep in your heart
There’s something greater and you’re one part
We’re in it together, from many one
Something unexpected arises from

You and me… joining in community
You got to believe… there’s a place for you to be
Look around
Just look around

Buddha, Jesus Mohammed too
Were living their lives the same as me and you
'Cause we’re all prophets with a story to tell
So claim your power and do it well
Send a message of Love not a message of fear
And your impeccable Word is what I’ll hear

You don’t need… to be afraid of hurting me
You've got to believe... your Word of love will set me free
Look around
Just look around

Flowers and trees even you and me
All sharing our lives through eternity
One word three letters an idea so grand
It’s greater than anyone can understand
But you’ll know god every single day
Just look around and you can say

I don’t need… anybody telling me
What to believe… god is everything I see
Look around
Just look around
Look around

Just look around

Snow (by my son, "Anonymous")

2007-01-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

it falls from the sky
light as a feather
not present in heat
but only cold weather

Looking Back

2006-12-23T14:24:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted for a long time - haven't felt the urge I have in the past, haven't had the free time, etc. But I think the biggest reason is that it feels like such an ego trip. Of course the whole idea of a blog is ego-based - the picture, the bio, the posting itself. I guess that keeps getting in the way when I think of something to write about.

But today, as I sit in a quiet house with clothes spinning in the dryer, a sick little girl sleeping on the couch, and the brother mother and grandparents off at the movie, it's time to put fingers to keys once again.

I actually sat down to do the finances, but before opening Quicken I went to my blog from Iraq and read some of my posts from there two years ago. Hard to believe it's been that long - it seems like yesterday.

And what do you know - some of them are really good! Here are some excerpts (lazy way to fill the whitespace, but hey it's still my writing):

From Circles and Cycles (Dec 21, 2006) comes this poem:

silverlight
lays
shadows down
bright
sky above
soft
on
the ground

all
is peaceful
all
is clear
things
far away
seem
very near

moon
so brilliant
moon
so bright
shares
with earth
her silverlight

Not a bad poem, I'd say - I called it "probably the first one I’ve written as an adult." But what do I know.

Exactly two years ago today, in Coasting Toward Christmas, I wrote that

I am ambivalent about Christmas largely because I am skeptical of Christian mythology. It seems that...many people who claim to be Christians celebrate the birth, death, and resurrection stories without paying much heed to the teachings and ministry of Jesus. Personally, I am much more interested in his life as a nonviolent yet radical person, speaking truth to power and bearing witness to the suffering in his world, than in the mystical aspects attributed to his birth and death. I view the divinity attributed to Jesus as another manifestation of an ancient human archetype of the man-god redeemer...representing human desires for a connection with the divine, life after death, and ultimate salvation.
I find spiritual meaning in this season by celebrating the Solstice – a time of personal rebirth and renewal, a time for letting go of old ways of being that are no longer useful, and a time for welcoming progress and growth into our lives. My favorite Solstice memory is from two [four now!] years ago: watching the sun rise out of the Pacific from a beach in Kauai, while my two beautiful children played in the sand and honu (sea turtles) bobbed in the surf. It was simple yet extraordinary, and much more meaningful and memorable than trees or tinsel and presents.

I had a very nice little Solstice celebration on the front porch the other night, lighting candles for each of the four cardinal directions and one for the Solstice and the renewal of the year's cycle. Last year I included my whole family in this ritual, which includes symbolically leaving behind those attitudes and behaviors that are not useful, and welcoming or keeping those that are. They didn't seem to be that interested (I think they were doing it to humor me), so this year I did it by myself. Worked for me.

We do have a tree...we do have lots of gifts...too many...and we do have some lovely family time. My in-laws are here, and my mom arrives tomorrow night, so the kids will have all of their grandparents here for Christmas.

The last time that happened, I was in Iraq.

Tommy's Choice

2006-11-01T07:48:00.000-05:00

This poem comes from my good friend Tommy Z.

CHOICE

Love is what I am
Fear is what I have learned

Love is real
Fear is an illusion

Love is everything positive
Fear is everything negative

Love is Kindness
Love is Compassion
Love is Gratitude
Love is Hope
Love is Trust
Love is Forgiveness

Fear is Shame
Fear is Hatred
Fear is Racism
Fear is Gossip
Fear is Jealousy
Fear is Resentment

Love builds
Fear destroys

What I focus on multiplies
If I focus on the positive
The positive multiply
If I focus on the negative
The negatives multiply

I have two choices
One is to live in Love
The other is to live in Fear

Living in Love produces
Peace of mind

Living in Fear produces
Misery

It is my choice.

The Accidental President

2006-10-27T12:08:00.000-04:00

No, this post is not about the last two presidential elections. It's about how strange life is sometimes, and how the Tao "moves in mysterious ways."

This past August - barely two months ago - I was seriously considering leaving my congregation for greener pastures. Despite my deep involvement in the church over the last three years as a board member, covenant group facilitator, and RE teacher, I still felt like an outsider in the congregation. I had long-held reservations about Unitarian Universalism in general, and was experiencing a growing practical interest in Buddhism. Almost every Sunday I found myself asking "what am I DOING here?"

Things turned around for me in September, primarily due to the arrival of our wonderful Interim DRE Michele. Our former DRE resigned at the end of the 2004-2005 church year, and our belated and unsuccessful search for a settled DRE left the RE program completely in volunteer hands last year. Fortunately my dear friend Mary kept it going, and we had classes every Sunday and even began a new program of Social Justice Sundays.

What I didn't realize about last year was how stressed out I had become by the uncertainty of the future of our professional RE staff. When Michele arrived and we first met over lunch, it was like a breath of fresh air, a huge weight lifted from my shoulders, and the joy of meeting a kindred spirit. We have a lot of work to do, but now we have a very talented, devoted, and objective person to help us do it. Life is good for RE again.

Another watershed event for me occurred while attending a retreat for men and boys early this month. I was wandering around the dining hall one day after breakfast, noticing the familiar feeling of outsidership (common throughout my youth and military career) arise as I watched the other men eating and talking. Then I realized that it's OK to feel like an outsider! I decided that maybe that's my place in large groups - outside looking in - and that it's balanced by my feeling of comfort and belonging in smaller groups within each community. It didn't take long to extend this attitude to my congregation, and it furthered my ability to experience my frustrations and feeling of not belonging with a "gaze of blessing" rather than a "gaze of contempt."

Following this retreat, I decided it was time to step into my life in a fuller way - time to claim my power and give it back to my community. So I joined the leadership council for the retreat group and took a leadership role in our forming cohousing community.

The following week, the President of our congregation's Administrative Board decided to resign for personal reasons. I immediately thought "I could do that," and tried the idea on for size. At the next board meeting, I was elected Acting President after being "nominated" by two other board members. Their confidence, along with my new commitment to serve, seemed to point to this as what I'm meant to do at this stage of my life.

So here I am, an accidental president...an outsider on the inside...what will come next?

War Games

2006-10-27T11:55:00.000-04:00

As part of my new job, I've been part of a lot of discussions about networking simulation. For example, networking Harrier and Hornet simulators with command & control simulators, artillery simulators, Forward Air Control Simulators, etc., to provide a realistic mission simulation for everyone involved. It's a very good idea for improving training, saving money, and reducing risk.

So it occurs to me - why not extend this idea and include the "bad guys?" If we were to provide networked simulators to our enemies worldwide, then we could do the whole combat thing virtually, and really save a lot of money and lives. On all sides.

And with all the coordination required to set up this virtual combat, maybe we'd all realize that we have more in common than we thought, and there's no "them" - only "us" sharing this one small planet. Maybe we'd decide to ditch our attachment to conflict (real or virtual) and work together for the betterment of all the world.

A nice thought, but I'm not holding my breath.

Saint Bill the Fristly

2006-09-21T08:19:00.000-04:00

I just couldn't pass up this picture of Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. It comes from a Washington Times article about immigration legislation. Does this mean that building a 700-mile fence along our southern border is a holy act, or is he just saintly in general?

He also looks like he's trying to blow a tune on the microphones, as if they were reed pipes.

On this day...

2006-09-11T09:11:00.000-04:00

... in 1609, Henry Hudson landed on Manhattan Island.
... in 1941, ground was broken for construction of the Pentagon.

... in 2001, you know what happened at both places. Interesting.

And finally,

... in 1906, Mahatma Gandhi started his non-violence movement.

one

2006-09-02T08:07:00.000-04:00

rain falling from above
alights on leaves
pausing for a moment
falling to the ground

little yellow bird
flits through the drops
chirping a secret song
swoops beneath a bush

rain bird and bush
i am all of these

yet nothing

Live as if...

2006-08-28T14:39:00.000-04:00

"...Christ is coming back today" reads the roadside sign of a nearby Baptist church. I thought of some other ways to "Live as if..."

...the only time you have is the present moment
...all life on earth is precious
...this one earth is all we have
...we all breathe the same air and drink the same water
...relationships are more important than issues
...what you do for a living is not who you are
...everyone you meet is holy

and finally

...you're a "human being," not a "human doing"

How would you live as if...?

Ronald McHummer Sign-O-Matic

2006-08-18T08:22:00.000-04:00

Check this out:

This month McDonald's is giving away toy Hummers — 42 million of them, in eight models and colors — with every Happy Meal or Mighty Kids Meal. That's right: The fast-food chain that helped make our kids the fattest on Earth is now selling future car buyers on the fun of driving a supersized, smog-spewing, gas-guzzling SUV originally built for the military. Use the Ronald McHummer Sign-O-Matic™ to tell us what you think of this misguided marriage of two icons of American excess.

A Buddhitarian?

2006-08-16T08:22:00.000-04:00

Recently I stumbled upon a post by UU blogger Peacebang titled Humanists, or "Vague Buddhists?" In this post, she proposes that "Unitarian Universalists are actually embracing ... a 'vague Buddhism' as their most common theological identity" because

Buddhism, though non-theistic in the strict sense, is concerned with spirituality and the inner life, which are subjects of tremendous interest to today's UUs, especially recent come-outers. UUs, who may shun the concept of prayer as uncomfortably theistic and supernatural, have no compunction whatsoever at being invited to "meditate" during their worship services.I don't have statistics to back this up, but I am guessing that our clergy include readings or sayings of Buddha and Buddhists at least as frequently (if not more so) than they include Bible readings or other offerings from religious traditions.When they look for spiritual guides and devotionals to study and reflect on at home, I am again guessing that Unitarian Universalists choose Buddhists such as the Dalai Lama and Thich Nhat Hanh at least as often as they choose Christian or Jewish sources, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Rumi, or Mary Oliver. Why? Because they are looking for spiritual teachers and teachings, not just spiritual suggestions, and they find inspiration, healing and direction from popular Buddhist authors.

Many people commented on her post, and she wrote a second part addressing some of the comments. I don't profess to know a lot about either UUism or Buddhism, but I've been thinking about both "faiths," separately and together, a lot myself lately.

For starters, I've had a hard time identifying as a UU for over a year now. I just don't know what it means to "be" a UU. I don't know what it's about, if it's about anything. At worst, it is a religion about nothing; at best, a loose collection of spiritual seekers unified by a rejection of "traditional religion." Ironically, that's what brought me to UU -- finding a place for spiritual community without hearing the word "God" all the time -- but now it's the lack of any central theme that gives me pause.

In the last year I've become more interested in Buddhism, in a practical sort of way. I started meditating while I was in Iraq, and over the last year I have completed the Heart of Warriorship series at the DC Shambhala Meditation Center. Shambhala training is a sort of "secular Buddhism," introducing participants to shamatha and vipassana meditation and some Buddhist concepts. It is all about practice, about discovering what it means to be human, about overcoming fear, stepping out of the cocoon, and letting the world into an awakened heart. It's really helped me live with presence and intention.

As I've learned more about Buddhism (and realized how much more there is to know), I've developed a growing longing to "become a Buddhist." Ironically, I think it's an egoic desire to "be" something -- to have a religious identity, because I don't identify as a UU -- that produces this longing. This paradoxical desire to identify with a tradition that labels desire as the root of suffering gives me pause.

I also am challenged by the concept of rebirth. I just can't believe that a modern Buddhist teacher is "discovered" to be the 18th reincarnation of some great lama or another. I don't accept this idea any more than I do the divinity of Jesus. I just don't know enough about Buddhism to say whether this belief is common to all branches, or just to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition on which the Shambhala trainings are based.

So that's where I sit for now (pun intended) -- practicing life, being aware of my environment and my state of mind, and not committing to any belief system. I don't claim a religious identity as either a UU or a Buddhist, but my journey for now consists of Buddhist practice in the framework of UU community.

So call me a Buddhitarian.

On Children

2006-08-01T16:23:00.000-04:00

four

forever

fortunately not

Radical Community

2006-07-26T08:50:00.000-04:00

From a sermon excerpt by Jolinda Stephens, the Director of Lifespan Religious Programming at the UU Church of the Monterey Peninsula:

Radical community...[is] one based not on liking people or thinking alike but on an act of will that opens us to joining with one another. In this type of community we don't merely help people during their times of trouble, but rather join with them to support the burden with them. We join in our joys and triumphs. We join with our community even when we don't agree, even when we are angry or hurt.

That deep community is...necessary if we are to speak with a strong, clear religious voice and stand up and work for social justice as one. Just the idea that people with a diversity of beliefs can live together in community is an incredible gift we bring to the world, if we are willing to do the hard work to make that kind of community a reality.

If we want a faith community that answers the longing of our hearts what we must do is hold on to each other, even when we're angry with one another, even when the vote doesn't go our way, even when we are bored or our feelings are hurt, even when we're embarrassed by something we've done. We hang on. And then we share with each other our beliefs and the assumptions they are based on, and we talk and we dialogue and we learn... and then we act in harmony because we know each other so well.

How radical is your faith community?

The Ballad of Little Willie

2006-07-21T09:23:00.000-04:00

little Willie started at age fifteen
bursting upon the drinking scene
he learned it fast he learned it well
and it nearly turned his life to hell

high school came and went in a flash
Saturday school and picking up trash
liquid lunch, debate and band
all the time with a drink in hand

four years by the Severn he honed his skill
learned how to quickly drink his fill
a whole week's fun on a Saturday night
he just couldn't see the depth of his plight

on a sultry night in June, feeling fine
Willie winked at her in the roller-coaster line
soon fair Lynette became his wife
and together they began their new life

he learned to fly he continued to drink
years went by and he still didn't think
that one of these days the time would come
when being a drunk would stop being fun

a night in Japanese jail was tough
but apparently he hadn't suffered enough
his marriage hung by the thinnest thread
but he still used the bottle rather than his head

Willie's third time on Ryukyu isle
Lynette had come to stay for a while
Hong Kong, Brit expats, wine and beer
left her with a belief quite clear

so in a sock drawer she left him a note
directly to his heart it smote
"I love you but not your drinking"
seemed to be what she was thinking

in that moment it struck our Willie
that drinking like he did was rather silly
when "one is too many and a thousand not enough,"
it makes life for everyone around pretty rough

in the blink of an eye Jim Beam he did pour
down the drain in the kitchen - but there was more
the beer he was drinking soon followed it down
and he watched it swirl around and around

Willie watched his old life disappear down the drain
a life often filled with suffering and pain
for fifteen long years he'd lived this curse
briefly recounted here in verse

ten years have passed and our Willie has grown
still with Lynette and the seeds they have sown
two wonderful tykes who bring them great joy
a butterfly princess and a dragon-rider boy

twenty-five years this tale has included
and now it is ready to be concluded
heed the message within it if you choose
take great care and be mindful if you drink booze!

Life is Practice

2006-07-20T13:35:00.000-04:00

life is practice

so take care in all you do

and do one thing at a time

give your full attention to whatever you are doing

and be aware of your breath

as you practice Life

untitled 7/13

2006-07-13T20:54:00.000-04:00

whipped cream

a moment's inattention

butter

My Least Favorite Holiday

2006-07-05T14:10:00.000-04:00

I could do without Independence Day.

At least without the fireworks, anyway. Ever since my time in Iraq I've been sensitive to loud noises. When I first got back, I was ready to dive to the floor with every backfire or artillery fire from the nearby training ranges. Last year I was in my hometown on July 4th, and I had big plans to take my son to see the fireworks in Mountaineer Bowl. I have many fond memories of this annual event in my youth. We were taking a walk around the neighborhood that afternoon, and even the firecrackers from the local kids were too much. I apologized profusely to my son and went to bed early.

This year was better, but not by a lot. We attended a fireworks display Monday night at the home of some friends, and when the first few booms sounded, I had to go into the house. I finally got back outside and watched the show with my daughter on my lap. I jumped at the loud ones and cringed at the high-pitched ones, but made it through. By the end it didn't bother me so much - it helped to have a little girl in my lap and my wife next to me, and to be surrounded by other people.

Interesting how the mind can have a very hard time overcoming the body's deep-seated reactions.

Building Community

2006-06-30T14:08:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, during our trip to Colorado, we participated in the site design workshop for the cohousing community we've joined. It was a terrific weekend - by the end of the two days we had a site plan for our new community and some surprisingly close relationships to the others in our group.

We've been interested in cohousing for years, and after a visit last fall to some friends who live in such a community in western VA, we were certain this is how we wanted to live once I finish m time in the Marines. In January we joined this group, and we should be moving into our new community in Arvada, CO in 2008.

I've started a new blog where hopefully the other members of our group will join me in telling our stories as we build this community over the next two years.

Kids Say the Funniest Things

2006-06-28T16:11:00.000-04:00

(plane lands; a mom and her two kids leaving the row in front of me)

hurry up let's go

but mom i lost something

don't worry about it - just leave it

(proceeding up the aisle)

it was my shoe!

(smile)

A Gift of Presence

2006-06-19T22:39:00.000-04:00

I spent yesterday, Father's Day, with my dad in his favorite place. It's the first Father's Day I spent with him in years -- decades, really. And of course the last one I'll spend with him, or with his physical form anyway.

I went up a day early and camped out in the old "family camping spot" along the bank of Curecanti Creek. It was like a mental tour of my childhood -- I remember playing with boats with my mom in that pool -- I remember hours spent around the fire with my parents, grandparents, various cousins and aunts and uncles -- I remember telling my wife I loved her for the first time in that sacred place.

My dad spent a lot more time there than I did. In the years before we relegated him to a nursing home, he would go up there for weeks if not months at a time. I never really thought a lot about what he did while he was there, but in my solitude on Saturday I began to wonder.

When we went there as a family, we did a lot of fishing -- at least my grandfather, my dad, and I did -- and hiked and gathered firewood and did all the other camping stuff.

So what does a grown man who doesn't fish or hike anymore do when he's camping in the woods for weeks at a time?

Maybe a clue lies in my own ongoing mindfulness practice; beyond meditation, bringing aware presence to everything that I do.

I think he just sat.

I can picture him sitting in his folding lawn chair, back straight and head up, hands on the knees of his blue jeans, glasses gleaming in morning light. I see him noticing all that is around him and feeling totally connected to it -- the mountains, the trees, the animals, the water -- totally present.

Ripples arise in the humblest puddle.

Let Me Carry You

2006-06-15T19:19:00.000-04:00

up to the sky again we go
one last climb we’ll take it slow
a burden light within my pack
this time you’re not coming back

first time up you carried me
this time let me carry you

I’ll leave you there on winds of light
soar and dive a bird in flight
never leave your sacred place
forever there infinite space

first time up you carried me
this time let me carry you

I remember what you said
there’s nothing left when you are dead
but Dad I think you got it wrong
you live forever in my song

my whole life you carried me
in my heart I carry you

Theodore Chase Rouillard July 5, 1931 - June 13, 2006

2006-06-14T19:23:00.000-04:00

Ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's me. I just got off the phone to your mom, and...well, your dad passed away last night."

Sharp intake of breath

"I'm so sorry. Your mom really wants you to call her."

"OK - I'll call her later."

Click.

It wasn't a surprise - my dad has been in an assisted living facility for seven years, and was in the hospital for the last week after experiencing "mild congestive heart failure." But it was still a shock initially.

So here I am with my mom in Colorado . We are both doing well and there seems to be a new spaciousness around our relationship. He lives on where he always has, and always will, in our memories.

This weekend I will climb Eagle Rock, a granite monolith overlooking my dad's favorite spot on Earth, and scatter his ashes to the winds. It feels like taking him home.

Untitled 6/12

2006-06-12T12:45:00.000-04:00

last night i played
at an open mic

it's a few blocks from our apartment

i rode my bike
with my guitar strapped to my back

not the blues-man thing to do
but saves on gas...

(inspired by an e-mail from my good friend and Blues Man Jason)

National Day of Whatever

2006-05-04T09:51:00.000-04:00

It seems today is the National Day of Prayer. I didn't know that until I saw a little blurb on the break room TV as I was heating my drink, but then again I'm not a pray-er.

So what is the National Day of Prayer? According to Wikipedia,

The National Day of Prayer is a day designated by the United States Congress as a day when all Americans regardless of faith are asked to come together and pray in their own way. It is held on the first Thursday in May. A "National Day of Prayer" Task Force was created in order to coordinate the event...

The National Day of Prayer Task Force is a non-governmental organization created by the National Prayer Committee to help coordinate events on National Day of Prayer. Based in Colorado Springs, Colorado, they work out of facilities from Focus on the Family, a conservative Christian organization. Shirley Dobson is currently at the head of the Task Force...

The Task Force's charter is tolerant of all religions. It is written so that it could be applied to any religion, not just Christianity. In practice though, the Task Force as developed a strictly Judeo-Christian focus, leaning towards predominantly evangelical Christianity, and appears to be run by idividuals associated with the Christian Right.
The Task force's website says in their FAQ section: "Americans of all faiths are encouraged to participate in the [National Day of Prayer] according to their own traditions. However, the [National Day of Prayer] Task Force [only] provides promotional materials and sponsors several events in keeping with the Judeo-Christian tradition".
The application for volunteer coordinators with the Task Force lists the following as a primary qualification, "Commitment to Christ. A volunteer must be an evangelical Christian who has a personal relationship with Christ. I acknowledge that I am working for the Lord Jesus Christ and the furthering of His Work on earth and agree to perform my work with the highest standard of Chrstian faith."

Wow. Doesn't even leave room for the liberal Christians, does it? I guess this paragraph shows why it's not the "National Day of Prayer, Meditation, Contemplation, or Atheistic Musing."

Another perspective on this day comes from Slacktivist:

In 1952, Congress passed a law establishing the National Day of Prayer as an annual religious observance. Quick: give me another sentence that uses the words "Congress," "law," "establish" and "religion." ...

I find the idea of an official National Day of Prayer, like the "under God" clause in the Pledge of Allegiance, a bit hard to swallow. Either it's a serious affirmation of religion -- in which case it seems to violate the Establishment Clause, or else it's a hollow exercise in civil religion -- in which case it seems to violate serious religious faith...
Prayer is a Good Thing. It's far too important to allow it to be highjacked in the service of hollow pieties and political campaigns, so I'm not a fan of the National Day of Prayer.

So when else is prayer "a hollow exercise in civil religion...in service of hollow pieties?" I would argue that most public prayers fall in this category. At such times I look around at the bowed heads and wonder who's really praying.

Still, I look at the proclamation from President George W. Bush and those words force me to drop to my knees in fervent prayer. Not the words of the proclamation itself, mind you, I mean the words "President George W. Bush."

Amen, brother.

Are We Green, or Are We Gay? (Updated 5/03)

2006-05-02T11:13:00.000-04:00

*** Note: For a better view of a map, right click on the image and select "Open Link in New Window." ***

In the past week I've been doing a lot of research on the UU Ministry for the Earth in connection with an issue our Board has been addressing. As part of my poking around their website, I found a page listing the Green Sanctuaries. I remembered the cool choropleth maps I showed in my last post, and decided I'd do a little technical geekery of my own and come up with some similar maps showing the distribution of UUA Green Sanctuaries.

So why the (potentially inflammatory - sorry) title? It occured to me to look at the distribution of UUA Welcoming Congregations, and compare it with what I've learned about Green Sanctuaries. It's an interesting comparison - more about it later.

And now, some maps. The upper chart shows the number of UU congregations and number and percentage of Green Sanctuaries by state, sorted by number of congregations. The lower chart shows the same information sorted by percentage of Green Sanctuaries.

These two maps show the distribution of Green Sanctuaries (by count and percentage of congregations) a little more clearly. Note how Arizona, with only one Green Sanctuary, is in same range (5 - 10%) as Illinois and Pennsylvania (with three) when the percentage of congregations is considered. Vermont is the clear winner, with four out of sixteen congregations certified.

Interestingly, and somewhat surprisingly, of the three "biggest" UU states (Massachussetts, California, and New York, with a total of 261 congregations and almost 43,000 members) there is a grand total of one Green Sanctuary. One. And it's in New York.

Things get better when you look at the next three states - Florida, Texas, and Pennsylvania (117 congregations with about 17,000 members) - there are seven Green Sanctuaries. Rounding out the top ten most populous UU states are Illinois, Ohio, Washington, and Wisconsin (129 congregations and just over 21,000 members), with a total of eight Green Sanctuaries. The only two states in the lower half (in terms of number of congregations) with Green Sanctuaries are Arizona and New Mexico.

So are we Green? Not yet. Only 38 of our 964 congregations (that's not even 5%) have become certified. Then are we Gay? It would seem so - there are 491 Welcoming Congregations in the UUA, or about half. In every district of the UUA, at least 25% of congregations are Welcoming, and almost half (10 out of 21) show 50% or greater. By comparison, Green Sanctuaries comprise at most slightly more than 10% of a district's congregations, and 2/3 of our districts are less than 5% green.

Consider, however, that the Welcoming Congregation program begain in 1990, so this is the 17th year of its existence. Green Sanctuaries have only been certified since 2002. Furthermore, the rate of Green Sanctuary certification is generally increasing (there were 5 in 2002, 9 in 2003, 6 in 2004, and 16 in 2005. As of the end of February 2006, there were 3). If this trend continues, by the seventeenth year of Green Sanctuary Certification (2018), there will be over 500 Green Sanctuaries.**

So it's not an either-or proposition; it's both-and. It's interesting how UUism and the UUA have been in the forefront of an issue of human rights and dignity (LGBT awareness and acceptance) for almost two decades, but we're just now getting off the ground with an institutional environmental stance. I'm glad we are able to address both, with apparently equal success.

** Calculated by linear regression on the number of Green Sanctuary certifications 2002 - 2006, with the 2006 value extrapolated from the February 28 count. This might be overly optimistic, as the rate of increase of certifications will probably decrease over time. But hey, this is a blog post, not a technical paper. **

Where the Unitarians Are

2006-04-21T08:13:00.000-04:00

Recently I ran across a Map Gallery of Religion in the United States - that is, the distribution of people belonging to different faith groups by county throughout the country. Here's the map for UUs.

It's no surprise that the highest concentration is in the northeast, with pockets along the west coast. I was interested to see the little enclave in northern Colorado and Wyoming. Of course the highest concentration of UUs by county is only 1.5 percent of the population, compared to 10 - 50+ percent for Catholics and Baptists.

Another interesting map is this one showing percent of religious adherents, ranging from the Bible belt (which seems to stretch through the middle of the country from Canada to Mexico and the Gulf) to the godless northwest.

Something is missing, however. There are maps for Judaism and Islam, but that's it for non-Christian (except UU, of course). So what about the Buddhists and Hindus? According to estimates based on polls conducted by the City University of New York in 1990 and 2001, there are around a million Hindus and 1.5 million Buddhists in the U.S. today, compared to about 890,000 UUs (and I don't know where they got this figure - the official UUA count is about 159,000).

I think it would be more accurate to call this project a "Map Gallery of [Abrahamic] Religion in the United States."

Permanence of Memory

2006-04-17T12:43:00.000-04:00

Yesterday during one of her reflections, our minister spoke of Easter as a time for remembering those who have died in the past year. I like that idea: those who die, like anything in nature, make room - and indeed provide a foundation - for existing and new life.

Another powerful idea is that death is the ultimate expression of the impermanence of life, and thus of all things. I've contemplated that a lot lately.

This started last month when I learned about the death of Tom Fox, a civilian member of a Christian Peacemaker Team who was killed in Iraq after being held captive for four months.

I never met Tom, but I believe he was a person who lived his calling trying to bring something good to a terrible place. It's painfully ironic that he died doing that while I escaped my time in Iraq unscathed, serving in the military that contributed to the environment that led to his capture and murder. Maybe that's why I'm so compelled by his action, his witness, his life.

I've learned more about Tom from my Quaker friend John, who knew Tom both through their Meeting and as a co-worker. I have great respect and affection for John, and seeing and feeling the depth and strength of his regard for this man makes me believe that Tom Fox is someone I really wish to have known personally.

And this brings me back to impermanence - or in this case permanence: Tom is still as alive as he ever was to me, being someone I knew only by reputation and mutual acquaintance. He will always be this alive to me, so in one way at least this transcends the impermanence of death. Can I apply this thinking to people I've known directly who have died? Can I see that the impermanence of their physical lives is meaningless compared to how they live on within me? Can my life speak of the way I am touched by all the people I know? Will my (impermanent) life touch the lives of others and lead to my own permanence in memory?

Maybe there are such things as immortality and resurrection.

spring, suddenly

2006-04-02T16:54:00.000-04:00

white pear explodes in snowy blooms
cherry veils in roseate lace
oaken limb grows verdant fingers

serving up a feast for the senses

little me and the library card

2006-03-25T21:01:00.000-05:00

About a month ago, I decided it was time for my son to have his own public library card and take more responsibility for the books he checked out. We went to the library, and got the card all set up, and he presented his five or six books to check out. At that point we were informed that until we verified his address, he would only be able to check out three books at a time. I didn't have anything handy with our address, so we decided to wait until next time, going our way with only three books.

Today we went back to the library, this time with BOTH his library cards (unbeknownst to me, he had already gotten one last fall with my wife). His old card had been verified and had no limit to the books he could check out, so I figured they could cancel the new one and thus there would be no need for another address verification.

Of course it wasn't that simple.

First of all, there is still one more book out on his new card - one we could not find this morning - so they could not cancel that account. I thought maybe they could transfer this book to the other card, but no. So the end result was that they wanted to cancel the old card and just use the new one. Fine, I said, can you remove the three book limit? No, they said, you have not verified the address. But the address was verified for the other card, and it's the same kid, and the same address. What's the problem? That's not our policy. We must verify the address for every card we issue.

Hmm. So whose address are you verifying? Your son's - it's his card. So I should bring in something with his name and our address on it, right? No, just your checkbook or a piece of mail with your name and address. But that's verifying MY address, not his. I'm sorry sir, that's our policy.

This is crazy, I thought.

I made one more attempt to evoke some common sense from these library people, to no avail. We ended up with three books checked out (not the four my son wanted) and I left the library in a fine righteous pique, determined not to bend to their rigid bureacracy, and to live with the three-book minimum on principle.

Once we got to the car, however, I decided that wasn't fair to my son, and it would really be easy to take my checkbook back in and verify the address (mine, not my son's, but I guess that's unimportant). So I did that, and grudgingly apologized for being difficult.

Driving away, it hit me like a two-by-four between the eyes - I had been acting like a little kid who couldn't get his way! So what if my common sense approach was reasonable (to me anyway) and their address verification policy is inconsistent - their policy is their policy and it was not that hard to comply.

Eckhart Tolle talks a lot about ego - the "little me" he calls it. This little me - this egoic self - wants to be in conflict with other people and situations so it can feel superior, or sometimes so it can feel victimized. Today was a little of both for me - i wanted to be "right," and i wanted to feel cheated and put upon by those terrible librarians for making me walk all the way out to my car for my checkbook. In retrospect, my behavior was immature and ridiculous - in Tolle's words, i was acting "morally superior to reality."

What now? I cna look back on the situation and laugh, and hope that next time little me wants to be in charge I can notice it before he starts driving, and take away the keys.

One Year Back

2006-03-01T16:34:00.000-05:00

A year ago today I returned from my deployment to Iraq. In some ways, it seems impossible that a whole year has passed, but in many others it is easy to believe.

It took me most of the first half of this last year to really adjust to my life and feel like I was "home." I have thought a lot about why this happened, and decided it all boils down to how I have perceived and responded to reality. You see, I came back from Iraq with a definite story of how my life was going to be - how much I had grown, how I would put relationships first, and how great everything would be.

Of course reality never conforms to our stories about it, no matter how carefully crafted they are. Even more surprising was the way the stories other people told themselves about me differed from my own stories. It took me a long time to notice and accept that we all have different stories about ourselves and each other - and how attachment to these stories can cause so much pain.

There have been some great influences in my "waking up" - first, my therapist Brian. I spent a lot of time with him, and he reflected my reality more than my stories and helped me see where I was. I learned more about Buddhism through reading, meditation practice, and Shambhala training, illuminating the path of presence, surrender, and acceptance.

Special thanks to Marti for introducing me to the work of Eckart Tolle, whose calm words helped me through many a rough morning. Thanks to ALL of the members of my Covenant Group (Chalice Group) for providing a safe place for me to really show up and be heard. And thanks to Shaun, my evangelical Baptist co-worker and friend, for his faith and friendship. Finally, thanks to my Warrior Brothers and the ManKind Project for providing another safe space to show up as a man and learn to trust other men again.

Lots of things have changed in the last year. 365 days ago, I was certain we would move to Northern California when I retired from the Marines, and that I would attend seminary there to become a UU minister. Today, we plan to move to Colorado and join a cohousing community just now starting up. I plan to take at least a year off and just LIVE MY LIFE - spend my time taking care of my family, playing my guitar, meditating, riding my bike, and building community. Wow. I might even learn how to cook. I am still called to serve others, but I'm not sure what shape this ministry will take. If I go to seminary, I'm not sure where or when it will happen.

When I got back from Iraq, my guitar playing was a lot better than when I left, and now a year later it's much better still. I bought a new guitar, and now love playing fingerstyle more than just about anything else in the world. Making music with voice and six strings is a spiritual practice for me.

This is really getting long, isn't it? No problem, it's my reflection on the past year and I'm writing for myself, not for you.

It looks like I'll finish out my Marine Corps career here in Northern Virginia, so we have about two more years in this community. I've thought a bit about leaving, and although there is a lot I will NOT miss about this area (can you say TRAFFIC?!), I will miss many of the people I've met.

In my congregation, of course there is our Chalice Group Leaders' Group. And my (as yet unformed) Chalice Group. And the Board - the Sinister Minister, Sister Emily, Professor Puck, Miss Violet, Captain BRUU Brew, and all the rest. And Mary, my dear enigmatic faithful friend and co-conspirator in the world of RE. And, yes, my fellow Marines in MPP-50 whose friendship and humor make work something I actually look forward to most days.

Well, I've reflected enough - it's time to move ahead. Who knows what the next year will bring. I hope it won't matter exactly what happens, just that I can notice and accept and appreciate every moment of it for what it is.

Second Annual UU Blog Awards

2006-02-28T07:57:00.000-05:00

Wow - it's the last day of February, and this is my first post since the last day of January. Guess I haven't felt much like writing.

And this post isn't much - just a mention of the Second Annual UU Blog Awards. This blog was not nominated this year, although my previous blog - A Virginia UU in King George's War - received the Best Writing Award in the First Annual UU Blog Awards (sorry, this might be a dead link).

Another blog I am part of, Unitarian Universalists in the Military, was nominated in the "Best Online Community" category, but didn't win.

So why blog? I think in many respects the blogging I did while in Iraq was for the "audience," the readers back home who gained some measure of comfort from my regular posting - it meant I was alive and well.

Since I've returned and started this blog, I think I've been writing more just for myself. And that's appropriate - after all I want the process of living my life to be more important to me than the outcomes. So I'm sorry if you are one of the small group of regular readers (blessings to you, Mary) and you've missed my writing. I've been doing other stuff.

At least I can rest easy knowing that I DID manage to post in February!

Question War

2006-01-31T10:07:00.000-05:00

Last July I wrote a post called "Ribbon Madness" about car ribbons. Here's another entry in the fray.

Witness

2006-01-22T08:59:00.000-05:00

the helpless witness
breathes in
breathes out

in the present moment
which goes on
and on

neverending

the present witness
sees fear
sees pain

feels fear
feels pain

in the suchness of this moment
the act of witness
brings peace
brings stillness

no longer helpless
the witness
feels love

is love

Doubt and Technology

2006-01-21T08:40:00.000-05:00

I'm in Colorado with my mom, who's in the hospital being treated for lymphoma. She completed her first round of chemotherapy yesterday, with little in the way of side effects so far. She is noticably better than when I came, and I hope to see her continue to improve. She will be in the hospital for about another week, but I'm leaving this afternoon.

It is really tempting to go into "storytelling" mode with the details of my trip here, my mom's condition and prognosis, etc., but I think I'll focus more on how I am experiencing this trip and its challenges. Yesterday's poem is an example of that.

But today I will relate an amusing story about my arrival here...

When I got into town I went directly to the hospital, saw my mom, and spoke with the oncologist. My mom was pretty out of it due to sedation from a biopsy, so I didn't stay terribly long. I was very tired from a long trip, and wanted to find my hotel and get some rest.

I got in the car and realized that I had not printed out directions to the hotel, and didn't know the address or phone number. In fact, I was only marginally sure of the name. So I drove toward where I thought I recalled seeing the hotel on the map, but I did not see it before I decided I must be mistaken.

I decided to do something out of character for a male and find directions, so I stopped driving around aimlessly and found a pay phone with a directory. Of course it was two years old, so this (new) hotel was not listed. No matter, I thought, I'll go find another directory.

Have you tried to find a pay phone lately? With the advent of cell phones, they are few and far between. I did manage to find a convenience store with pay phones, but the pages "Ma" through "Mo" were missing...so I was still out of luck.

I tried the next Quicky Mart up the line - once again the very pages I needed were missing. Is there a conspiracy here? Am I on candid camera?

Being very tired and ready to sleep, I swallowed my pride and went inside to ask the girl at the counter. She said she thought she knew where this particular hotel was, and gave some vague but usable directions. I got back in the car and started following them.

After driving about a block, I thought "nuts to this" and called my wife on my cell phone. I had her Google the name of the hotel and the town I'm in, and she quickly was able to map the address and "talk me on" to finding it. I had actually remembered its location pretty well in the first place, but just didn't drive far enough in the right direction before I began to doubt myself.

What a concept - I'm lost in a small town in Colorado, and my wife in Virginia is able to give me better directions than a local teenager. Technology persevered where the direct approach did not.

Of course if I'd trusted my memory I wouldn't have needed the technology.

First Treatment

2006-01-20T08:25:00.000-05:00

not

hope

see

that

again

the

pain

chemo

brings

when

lungs

cannot

breathe

limbs

shaken

byrigor

bonedeep

Martin's Big Words

2006-01-16T15:54:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I taught the Preschool Religious Education (RE) class, and we talked about Martin Luther King, Jr. I read the kids a story called "Martin's Big Words," which is a pretty good book to use to introduce Dr. King to young people up to about 1st grade.

I have also recently finished listening to "A Call to Conscience," a collection of Dr. King's speeches with introductions by other civil rights luminaries. Listening to his words is inspirational well beyond just seeing them in print.

I noticed a couple of things about Dr. King while listening to him speak over the last few weeks. First, he would always start off slowly, enunciating each word and syllable with great deliberation and intent. As he warmed to his subject, however, he would usually get into a rhythm - sounding like a preacher - and almost be singing some of the words. I wish I could have heard him speak live.

The second thing I noticed is that he does not give women much attention. The only times I heard any mention of females were his oft-repeated words "I have a dream of a time when "little black boys and black girls will join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers." Misogyny or just a sign of the times?

The most powerful lines I heard in all his speeches were about power and love. These words moved me so much I went back and listened to them over and over until I had committed them to memory, then I turned off the CD player and mulled them over. I still think about them every day.

One of the greatest problems of history is that the concepts of love and power are usually contrasted as polar opposites. Love is identified with a resignation of power and power with a denial of love... What is needed is a realization that power without love is reckless and abusive, and that love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice. Justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.

Big words, indeed.

(Be) Mind(ful of) the Gap

2006-01-09T09:13:00.000-05:00

Last spring, soon after returning from Iraq, I took my son to the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum. While riding the Metro home, I noticed that a young woman seated nearby had a patch on her backpack that looked like this picture. I had heard of "Mind the Gap" in terms of a recent UUA campaign to retain young adults as UUs in the "gap" between high school and adulthood, so I thought that's what it referred to.

I asked the young woman if she was a UU, and she gave me a blank look. I mentioned the patch and the UUA program, and she smiled and said "no, it's from the London Underground." Aha. It's been nearly a decade since I have been to London and ridden the Underground, so I didn't feel so bad about not recognizing the symbol. For those not in the know, it refers to the space (gap) between the car and platform in the Underground station. When a train comes, the announcement of its arrival concludes with "mind the gap." Lately this term has entered British popular culture.

Recently I've become aware of another meaning of the phrase "Mind the Gap" - Be Mindful of the Gap. The Gap I'm talking about here is the space between thoughts; those often rare moments when the nonstop "tape" or barrage of thinking ceases momentarily. Next time your mind draws a blank, just notice this Gap and pay attention to it. Your thinking mind will start up again soon enough.

I first began to think about this Gap in terms of meditation, as the space in attention between outbreaths. In samatha meditation, I notice thoughts as they arise and then let them go. I pay attention to my outbreaths and let my discursive mind dissolve with the breath. But what happens on the inbreath, and between breaths? Often this space is filled with thoughts, of course, but sometimes there is nothing. Emptiness. Stillness. This is the whole point of this kind of this type of meditation.

But life happens away from the meditation cushion, so I started thinking about other places to look for this Gap. I quickly found one in my Morning Pages practice, where I spend 30 minutes each morning writing essentially whatever is in my mind. Sometimes I catch myself daydreaming or thinking about what to write, so I have to remind myself just to write whatever I'm thinking. This writing is a sort of stream of conciousness exercise, and sometimes the stream just stops. The mind and the pen pause and there's nothing - another Gap.

The "best" kind of Gap, I think, is the everyday one. This is the Gap that comes when I'm in the middle of very "deep" thinking, or maybe even in a conversation. This is the "my mind drew a blank" Gap, the "uh...I can't remember what I was saying" Gap, or the "it's on the tip of my tongue" Gap. This is the kind of Gap to notice, to appreciate, and to give my attention.

Because when I notice this Gap, when I give it my attention and just sit with the absence of discursive and distracting thought, I am open to life. I am open to becoming a "human being" rather than a "human doing." I get a glimpse of who I am beyond the stories I tell myself about my identity. I perceive a deeper conciousness that transcends the little, egoic me.

I am mindful of this Gap - it is empty but full of potential; still but alive with possibility.

Thought for the Day

2005-12-21T10:45:00.000-05:00

"Human interaction can be Hell. Or it can be a great spiritual practice."

- Eckhart Tolle, Stillness Speaks

I Pledge Allegiance...

2005-12-09T11:12:00.000-05:00

Every few months my mother-in-law sends my son her collection of Mini Pages and other fun newspaper inserts, including one called "Colorado Kids." It is a collection of short news stories for children compiled by the DenverRockyPostMountainNews. This morning I read an issue of Colorado Kids, and found an article that disturbed me.

"One Nation Under God?" asked the headline, above a picture of a grade-school age girl on a US flag background. The picture caption read "The pledge of allegiance is under attack again." Intrigued by these eye-catching words, I read the article.

The first paragraph (of this very short four-paragraph article) was a fairly neutral explanation of September's decision by US District Court Judge Lawrence Carlton that "the Pledge's reference to one nation under God violates school children's rights to be free from a coercive requirement to affirm God." The last paragraph was similarly neutral, asserting that at least for the time being children would still be able to/required to recite the pledge.

I took issue with the middle two paragraphs, which showed a definite bias toward the "pledge is under attack" opinion implied by the photo caption. The people they quoted were both on that side of the issue. One was a school district official vowing to "fight for the right of willing children to continue to recite the pledge." Fair enough - are there any school officials who want to fight for the right of unwilling children to recite the pledge without an affirmation of God?

The one thing that REALLY got me to wondering about this article was the way they attributed the next quote by Steve Elliot, founder and president of grassfire.org. According to the article, grassfire.org is "an organization dedicated to preserving religious freedoms." OK, sounds good.

But visiting grassfire.org, I find a conservative website advocating all the usual suspects - "Save Marriage," "Support the Pledge," "Stand for the Unborn," etc. Their stated focus is on "conservative, pro-family and pro-faith values" issues. Presumably that includes religious freedom if it's freedom to have God in the pledge. Oh yes, what did he say? "People are really tired of all these attacks on the pledge." Hmmm.

Now I'm all for different viewpoints and interest groups of all stripes, and of reporting their viewpoints and opinions. What I object to in this case is that this article made no mention (other than implicitly by describing the court decision) of the OTHER side of the issue. Why not throw in a supportive quote from the ACLU or Americans United for the Separation of Church and State? Of course that might give these young people the wrong impression of what the issues are.

I object to the recitation of the pledge of allegiance in public schools with or without the "under God" part. I find it contrived and coercive, not to mention idolatrous (I pledge allegiance to a piece of cloth?) . Perhaps this is the result of knowing its history.

The pledge was written in 1892 by Francis Bellamy, a socialist and Baptist minister, as part of an advertising campaign by Youth's Campaign magazine to sell US flags to public schools for use as subscription premiums. I love the irony - one of the icons of American patriotism was originally conceived as a marketing jingle.

The pledge has been revised several times in its lifetime - most recently (and most significantly) in 1954 to include the phrase "under God." This addition was made in order to differentiate "us" from the "Godless Communists" at the height of the red scare. Hard to argue with that unless you want to be branded unpatriotic.

No mention of this history in the article either. Well, I suppose that's part of growing up - learning early on to just trust what you read in the paper, not ask questions, recite the pledge, and sign on the dotted line when you're asked.

Fortunately my son was born questioning authority, and has not been taken in by the pledge. When he started public school we talked about the pledge and its meaning and history, as well as the fact that the Supreme Court has upheld his right NOT to recite it. For a time he recited his own pledge of allegiance - to the Earth. I could get behind that.

When I asked my son what he thought of the article, he said "I think that's good news for the Hindus." Yes, and the rest of us who don't want God (or creed) pressed upon us. Thankfully we all still have the option of honoring our flag as a SYMBOL of what our country ought to stand for (not necessarily always reflected by our actions) rather than joining in this contrived affirmation.

Take Off the Gloves

2005-12-02T09:06:00.000-05:00

Over the last few months - OK, since early summer, really - I've been watching my biking gloves disintegrate. First it was a pinhole in the tip of one finger, then an unraveling seam along the palm. By Halloween, I had two fingers sticking out and a full-fledged blowout along the side of my left hand. Time for new gloves.

Being a bit of a cheapskate, I decided to root around the garage for some other (presumably less tattered) gloves. It wasn't hard to locate them, and they were a bit less the worse for wear than the older ones. But they still weren't pristine.

Now of course these gloves are becoming more disreputable every time I ride - there are the usual fingertip holes developing, and a very bare looking spot on the right palm. Guess I'm going to have to break down and actually buy some new gloves soon, or take another look through my boxes of old bike stuff.

Throughout the course of this Saga of the Gloves, I've been thinking about how ego and identity - the intricate stories I tell myself about my life - are like gloves. They start out so stiff and new, sometimes hard to put on but looking great, and then gradually wear in to become comfortable and like a second skin. Eventually, however, come holes and burst seams. I mend the seams and patch up the holes, and they become a patchwork reflecting my evolving ideas of what I believe about myself.

So why wear the gloves of ego and identity anyway? For protection, of course. There are rocks and thorns of hurt in the world, easily shut out by the new pair, but eventually wearing out the thin material of ego covering my most sensitive parts. I guess that's why the fingertips always wear out first. It's a real dilemma that experiencing the world with sensitivity and feeling can hurt so very much.

These "gloves" I wear are much different now than they were only five years ago, and they are getting pretty worn out. The patches just won't stick, and I'm out of thread to mend the seams. My fingers and palms show through in a lot of places, and before long there won't be anything left but skin.

And that's a good thing.

Of Guitars and Desire

2005-11-25T09:08:00.000-05:00

On Wednesday I bought a new guitar - a beautiful Martin OMC-16RE with a Sitka Spruce top, rosewood sides and back, a Schertler Bluestick pickup, and the 1 3/4" nut width I have been wishing for - and by the time I got home I already regretted buying it.

This incident has reinforced an idea I've had for a long time - possessions don't bring happiness. Unfortunately I got caught up in the desire to have something new, and let that desire overcome my rational mind that was saying "maybe you should wait." I didn't ever even have the brief euphoria of having gotten something new!

I bought my first "real" guitar in August of 2004, when I had decided that I wanted to get serious about playing, and thought that a serious instrument would help me do that. I bought a Martin SWDGT, a dreadnought size guitar made with sustainable wood. I love this guitar, even down to the way it smells when I open the case. The only problem with it is that now I'm getting more serious about fingerstyle playing (fingerpicking rather than using a pick), I've been wishing for a wider neck width than the 1 11/16" on this guitar. I began to really want to get another guitar.

Eckhart Tolle talks about this phenomenon of desire, and how we tend to go from one thing to another in search of happiness. He uses the example of houses - how buying a new house makes a person feel really good for a time, and he might think he has achieved happiness or inner peace or gratification from that possession. Soon enough, however, the mind and ego start saying "just one more thing, maybe a new car to go with the house" and off we go again in the cycle of desire, acquisition, and disappointment.

I started researching guitars again about a month ago, and I made a few visits to guitar stores and played guitars with the neck width I wanted. By the time I got to the local guitar store on Wednesday afternoon, I was at least half convinced that I would leave with a new guitar. I can afford it, and after all, if it helps me become a better player, isn't it worthwhile?

Buddhism teaches that desire is the root of our entrapment in a cycle of human suffering, and the longer I live, the more I believe it's true. I think of the delicious anticipation of every new "thing" I've gotten or achieved - becoming a pilot, getting married, buying new houses and cars, and of course getting bikes and guitars - and the letdown that inevitably comes after the newness has worn off. This is not to say that some of these "things" - specifically my bike and guitar - are very useful tools for expressing myself and finding peace, but they are not me. Not even the more momentous personal events in my history are "me" - not my wedding, not the births of my children. These are very important events, of course, because they brought me into relationship with my lovely family, but they are not me. I am not my story. Desire for and acquisition of new possessions will not make me any more "me."

Perhaps this is why I decided I really didn't want my new guitar before I even got home. Or maybe it's because when I pulled out my trusty old SWDGT and gave it a little workout, I thought "what have I done? I love THIS guitar and I could probably get a new neck put on it." What to do now? The store where I bought the new guitar doesn't take returns. Maybe I'll like it more as I play it more. Maybe someone will read this post and say "wow, that's the guitar I really want!"

Then again, I guess there's always E-Bay.

Signs of the Times

2005-11-10T08:40:00.000-05:00

Today is, among other things, the 230th Birthday of the United States Marine Corps. Happy Birthday, Marines.

It's also the day after the day after an election here in Virginia, and I note with disappointment (as I do every election year) the profusion of campaign signs still standing along the roadside. How long will they stand? I wish, just once, that a candidate would make a campaign promise to clean up all campaign signs within 24 hours of the election.

Most of the signs posted during the campaign along the roads I usually travel promote the two candidates for the local member of the House of Delegates. I saw plenty for both of the candidates yesterday, but today, I only saw the signs promoting the (re-elected) Republican incumbent. The Democratic challenger's signs had all disappeared.

What does this say about these two politicians? Is the winner just lazy, or does he not care about the cleanliness of his district? Does this make the challenger a better person, taking more pride in cleaning up her mess?

Maybe it's something else - smug gloating on the part of the winner (I won, so look at my signs for a while longer!) and shame on the part of the loser (I don't want to remind anyone I even ran).

Probably it doesn't mean anything, but it's interesting to speculate.

Ask the Right Question

2005-11-09T14:34:00.000-05:00

I just can't seem to get motivated to write these days - I'm not sure what it is but I'm not as interested in blogging as I used to be. Not that things aren't happening and I'm not busy - just not so intent on sharing it here.

I have had an epiphany or revelation of sorts in the last few weeks. For a long time - years? decades? - I've been in the habit of asking myself angry, rhetorical questions when I encounter something that I don't like. Why can't my wife turn off the lights when she leaves a room? Why can't other drivers use their turn signals/drive slower/turn into the correct lane? Why won't my daughter eat the lunches I make for her?

But I've been asking the wrong questions. The RIGHT question is more like "why do I react so strongly to this?" When the answer is "habit," then I have some ideas what it's really about.

It's about responding with compassion and love to situations where I habitually react with anger and judgment. It's about noticing and accepting life as it comes, rather than holding on to my attachments to false or useless beliefs. It's seeing the crumpled towel and thinking "hmm - the towel's on the floor," not getting upset because I am so attached to the belief that "the towel must be hung up when it's not being used."

It's about being present.

The Hero's (Covenental) Journey

2005-11-01T13:03:00.000-05:00

This post is the sermon I gave on October 23 at Bull Run Unitarian Universalists in Manassas, Virginia. For a blog post, it's long, but as sermons go, it's pretty short, and about a third of it is the Buddha story. Consider this post my amends for my recent lack of posting.

About 2500 years ago, a young prince named Siddhartha Gautama was born into the house of a noble and prosperous king named Suddhodana and his wife, Queen Maya. At his birth, the gods gave signs of his greatness and an astrologer predicted he would either become a powerful monarch like his father, or would renounce his royal birthright and become a great spiritual leader. The astrologer told Suddhodana his son would take the latter path if saw four signs of the suffering of life. Of course Suddhodana wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, so he gave Siddhartha everything – a wife and servants, a walled palace with gardens, fountains, music, and entertainments, and every luxury imaginable – all to keep the suffering of the outside world away from the young prince. For many years, Siddhartha remained an ignorant prisoner of his own family, unaware of the realities of human pain, suffering, and death.

But eventually Siddhartha became curious about the world outside the gates, and one day was able to convince a loyal servant to take him about in the nearby town. When roaming down one street, he saw a man who was coughing and shaking. Siddhartha asked the man what was wrong with him, and he replied “I am sick with disease.” On another street, he saw a decrepit old woman. “Mother,” Siddhartha said, “what is wrong with you?” She replied that she was suffering from old age. Walking from the town into the countryside, he finally came upon a corpse lying in the road, whose despairing family was being attended by a monk. Siddhartha asked the monk what was wrong, and he replied “this man is dead, and his family suffers because he is lost to them. It is the way of all living things to suffer and die.” Returning to his palace, Siddhartha pondered what he had seen. He realized that he too could become sick and old, and one day suffer and die. He also was intrigued by the monk. Could there be another way – a way to understand suffering and attain enlightenment? The young prince awakened to the impermanence of the luxuries of his palace, and for the first time suffered pain over his own mortality.

Soon after seeing these four signs, Siddhartha renounced his home, wealth, and royal station in life. Shaving his head and donning a monk’s yellow robes, he sought enlightenment with first one and then another hermit who lived in caves. He was unsatisfied with their instruction, and decided to try using Yoga to gain insight into his Self. He found the insights he gained to be fleeting, and was still not satisfied. He next embarked on an ascetic path, attempting to banish desire by giving up every bodily pleasure, and even some necessities. He abused his body and abstained almost entirely from food and drink, until he was little more than a skeleton and was so weak he could barely stand.

Starved almost to death, he had still not achieved enlightenment, and he realized that going to such extremes of self-torture was no more useful than living a life of careless luxury. His cravings and desires were still present – actually even more so – and his focus had turned totally inward to his own aches, pains, and suffering.

Nearly despairing of finding enlightenment, he remembered a day from his childhood, when he had observed a ceremonial plowing while sitting under a rose-apple tree. He remembered feeling sorrow for the young grass and insects torn up by the plow, and how even as a young child he was able to feel compassion and let the beauty of the day enter his heart. For a brief moment, long ago, seated in mediation under the rose-apple tree, he had left behind his own ego and found serenity.

Recalling this experience, Siddhartha saw the wisdom he had gained even when very young. In that moment, he realizes that serenity can be found in the midst of suffering by nourishing body and soul together – and that the tools to do this are within him, and thus chooses a middle path between the two extremes of hedonistic excess and austere deprivation.

Easing his broken and emaciated body into a seat at the base of the sacred bodhi tree, Siddhartha eats a little food and then waits with openness and serenity and without expectation. Sitting, just sitting, through the rest of the night, he eventually achieves Nirvana – a state of being present in the world. At last he has awakened to the reality of this world, and is able to find serenity and compassion amid all the suffering. He has become the enlightened one – the Buddha.

But his journey is not over. Having achieved enlightenment, he returns to the “normal” world a changed person. He spends the rest of his life sharing his learning and wisdom with all who will listen. He experiences much suffering of his own and of others, but through it all, maintains peace and serenity. Like any hero, the Buddha shows the possibility of a better world, here and now, in the one we must inhabit.

In his well-known book The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell tells the story of the archetypal hero whose cyclic journey of departure, initiation, and return is related in myth and story both ancient and modern. Obviously the story I just told from the Buddhist tradition is an example of a hero’s journey, as is the story of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. This formula is still used in more modern stories – think about the journeys of Luke Skywalker and Harry Potter. Even Pinocchio is a hero in this context!

There are many variations, but the basic hero’s journey goes like this: an ordinary, average person, living an ordinary, mundane life, is presented with a challenge, problem, or adventure. He (or she, of course) reluctantly accepts the challenge, possibly aided or encouraged by an elder or guide, and crosses a threshold into a special world much different than that which was left behind. After encountering enemies and monsters, facing trials and tests – perhaps with help from allies – the hero reaches the “inner cave” or hiding place of the object of the quest – symbolic of some deep inner part of the psyche. At this point the hero must face the supreme challenge – perhaps symbolic or literal death – and triumph to win the prize. Once the prize is seized, however, the challenge is not necessarily over – the hero must return to the “normal” world. Perhaps the hero’s most difficult challenge yet must be endured on the road home, or she might be reluctant to leave this special world. The end result, of course, is the hero’s triumphal return to the life left behind, transformed by the experience and bringing some wisdom or boon back to his community and the world.

Campbell also tells us that the hero’s journey – which he calls the monomyth – is a constant theme throughout human history. He explains this monomyth as an expression of Jungian archetypes – “constantly repeating characters that appear in the dreams of all people and the myths of all cultures.” “Dream is the personalized myth; myth, the depersonalized dream.”
So here we have a framework – the hero’s journey of myth and dream – that reflects the inner workings and desires of the human heart and mind. It is archetype reflected in dream, and dream revealed in myth. In UU terms, the hero’s journey is the story of humanity’s quest for truth and meaning.

This search is evident in our heritage, in the stories of heretical Unitarians and Universalists who dared to question the status quo, and depart from what was for them the mainstream of their denominational thought. Let’s take a quick look at two of our forebears – William Ellery Channing and Theodore Parker – and an event in our history – and see if we can trace a hero’s journey of our movement in their stories.

William Ellery Channing was a self-proclaimed religious liberal who departed from the religious status quo when he presenting a famous sermon entitled “Unitarian Christianity.” In this sermon, given in Baltimore in 1819, he not only accepted the ostensibly disparaging title “Unitarian” used by his Orthodox colleagues, he went on to describe some of the doctrines which might be deduced by examining the Bible through the lens of reason. This bold step marked a clear departure of Unitarianism from the Orthodox Calvinist thinking of the day.

Theodore Parker, famed for his sermon “The Transient and Permanent in Christianity,” became so outspoken in advancing his heretical idea – that Christianity would still be possible without Jesus Christ – that even other Unitarian clergy in the Boston area refused to exchange pulpits with him. In the 1843 “heresy trial” before the Boston Association of Ministers, he refused to resign from that organization, and they refused to throw him out. At this impasse, he became hugely popular as a preacher, although shunned by his fellow clergy. In this, I see his initiation – trial and suffering – in furtherance of what he saw as the truth.

With the merger of the Unitarian and Universalist denominations in 1961, the journey boldly begun by William Ellery Channing and continued with strife and challenge by Theodore Parker reaches a culmination of sorts – a Return to the “normal” world. The hero, of course, is Unitarian Universalism, emerging in our world with a great boon to offer – a creedless faith of love and justice, based on the oneness of the divine and the universal salvation available to all who seek it. But is that really the end of this Hero’s Journey?

Recall the words of Joseph Campbell: “… a good life is one hero journey after another. Over and over again, you are called to the realm of adventure; you are called to new horizons. Each time, there is the same problem: Do I dare? And then if you do dare, the dangers are there, and the help also, and the fulfillment or the fiasco. There’s always the possibility of fiasco. But there’s also the possibility of bliss.”

I submit it is time for Unitarian Universalism to depart on another round of the Hero’s Journey. Frankly, I’ve had some real doubts about this faith of ours over the past year – to the point where I even wrote an essay entitled “The Seinfeld Religion?” In case you’re not familiar with Seinfeld, it was called a “show about nothing.” Sometimes I believe Unitarian Universalism is like that – a Religion about Nothing. How can we call ourselves a religious faith when our de facto creed – the Seven Principles – is in essence a statement of secular liberalism? Many of the theological ideas and values that were radical and outrageous in Theodore Parker’s day are now mainstream, so are we now on the fringe or irrelevant? We’re not Christian, we’re not pagan, we’re not Buddhist – so what are we? Can we be all things to all people? Should we try to be?

We are on the cusp of our next hero’s journey – that is, if we haven’t already departed. Perhaps we’re already in the Initiation phase. There is a movement afoot, led by Rev. William Sinkford, the President of the UU Association, to reclaim a “language of reverence.” Remember the reception that William Ellery Channing and Theodore Parker got when they challenged the orthodoxies of their day? They were – in essence – burned at the stake. How do you think the current Unitarian Universalist orthodoxy of individualistic humanism will receive a movement toward more religious language in our denomination?

It seems to me that this movement to re-emphasize the spiritual side of Unitarian Universalism – traditionally viewed as our Universalist heritage – is on the right track – although ironically the Unitarian or more humanistic side is what attracts many people - indeed what attracted me – to the movement in the first place. I think, however, that we should look for guidance on our next hero’s journey beyond this attempt to revive the language of Christianity. Rather we should also resurrect our heritage of the practice of covenant.

Rev. Rebecca Parker, the President of Starr King School for the Ministry (our UU seminary in Berkeley, CA), says “covenant means to come together by making a promise.” I also like the definition “a sacred promise of meaningful relationship.” However it’s defined, the essence of covenant is this: as a community, as a faith, we place our trust in one another, and we value our relationships with each other and our shared experience over our inevitable differences of opinion or belief.

Covenant is a practice, not merely a verbal agreement, and in the words of Rebecca Parker, “we inherit covenant before we create covenant.” We are all here together in relationship, if for no other reason than we’ve shown up this morning. Let’s take THAT – our presence here together with each other – and make it the centerpiece of our faith – rather than a somewhat selfish individual search for truth and meaning. Let’s notice that we are together here today, accept it, and intentionally make the most of our community, our connections, and our relationships. Let’s depart on a hero’s journey together, face the challenges and failures along the way – together – then return again and again with shared truth and wisdom and power – together in community bound by the practice of covenant.

Shambhala

2005-10-20T10:24:00.000-04:00

sitting
just sitting
I notice my body

bottom firm on cushion
knees ankles feet firm on mat
a stable base

back straight and fearless
upright yet relaxed
strong and composed

shoulders back and broad
leave chest torso open soft and vulnerable
heart of a warrior

head up chin slightly tucked
stretch on back of neck
no room for stress or tension

shoulders ribs and arms
hang from upright spine
like clothes from a hanger

hands rest on thighs
dropped from elbows
open and loose

eyes gently open
cast down in easy focus
not too hard not too soft

sitting just sitting
in my body
I notice my breath

breath flows through body
in then out
ever unceasing

breathing just breathing
attention on the outbreath
diffusing into nothing

thought comes along
or emotion memory desire
label it "thinking" and let it go

like a small child
mind gently brought back to outbreath
again and again

Loose Ends

2005-10-13T10:03:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted in a while, and I see some loose ends to tie up.

First, in my post Silliness, I related a story about making up a fake technical paper and sending it to a former graduate school professor. Here's an edited sample of our e-mail exchange about it:

Me: Just thought you might like to see what [your former students] have been up to.

Him: Nice work and nice hearing from you! How goes it back there? How much more time do you have left there?

Me: Thanks for the response. Did you get a chance to read the paper carefully? I think you'd find it very interesting.

Him: Thanks Greg, and yes I did get to read it -- and it was
interesting! I forwarded it to [the department chairman] in case he wanted to forward to folks here.

(My reaction: D'OH!! He took it seriously!!)

Me: Glad you liked the paper...before you forward it to the whole
department, I have to admit that it's a practical joke. ... Hopefully your sense of humor is still intact - it was funny to us here, and I'm sorry if it caused you any embarrassment.

Him: Greg, No worries on the sense of humor and Jim never forwarded it, so no harm no foul! Can you send me the original again? I guess I need to read it a little more closely :-) It certainly seemed realistic, and yes, a bit over my head, but I was impressed!! Retiring on 18 Nov - not much is getting me riled up these days!! Later dude!!

(My reaction: WHEW!!)

Silly.

Second, in One Thing at a Time, I talked about a tree that I found and lay on during a bike ride one day. Well I now call that tree my "forest friend," and I visit him (her?) every time I ride. S/he is really quite striking, with so much life persisting even though the entire root disk is upended. I make a little ritual out of leaving my bike by the trail, walking to the tree, and even which two little trees I walk between to reach the trunk (there are spiderwebs between the other two). I don't always stay long but I notice something new every time. Yesterday I noticed how the fungi growing on the sides (now sides and top) of the trunk were stacked and finned.

Finally, I was blessed once again by a wonderful friend in California who sent me a song whose words are the ENTIRE Rumi prayer I mentioned in The Field Beyond. There's more to it than I quoted...here's the rest:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.

Look at the inviting grass in that field - I think I'll lie down in it.

The Field Beyond

2005-09-27T08:02:00.000-04:00

Over the last month or so I've been working deeply on responding to inter-personal issues with love and compassion, rather than my habitual frustration, anger, and judgment. As I work to regain connection - or to really achieve it for the first time - I have found this to be my biggest challenge, and perhaps the root of an entirely new way of being in relationship.

As I do this work, I continuously think of something my minister told me a couple of months ago. She offered sage advice about considering others (particularly a congregation that I find frustrating or challenging) with a "gaze of blessing." Look beyond the petty disagreements and things that are irritating or annoying, and look with love upon the people you see. I recently encountered a very similar message in a book I'm reading by David Richo, someone I would call a "Buddhist psychologist." Richo writes about "the glance of mercy" - looking at other people with acceptance and understanding. It's the same thing as Nancy's gaze of blessing.

Last week I got an e-mail from a friend in California, who wrote

...one day I was flipping thru a mail order catalog and I came across some jewelry which was inscribed with the words of Rumi, "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there." Upon reading these words I felt so moved I was paralyzed for what seemed to be a lifetime... talk about being in the moment!

Rumi's words tell me to use my gaze of blessing - my glance of mercy - to look beyond my perception of who's right and who's wrong in a relationship, and find the common place of love and compassion beyond; to meet others there in right relationship with mindfulness and presence. Ahh...it's all coming together now.

As I learn and grow, I realize that often doing the "right" thing - in terms of relationships and responding with love and compassion - is often contrary to my first (habitual and acculturated) impulse. For example, my son Ryan has been suspended from school for three days because he took a pocketknife to school. I really don't think he did anything wrong - that is, his intent was not to do harm - he wanted to take a tool to carve sticks with his friend during the lunch hour. Unfortunately, of course, the school rules forbid any kind of weapon, so when the knife was discovered by a teacher, Ryan got to visit the assistant principal and spend a few days at home.

Yesterday afternoon I came home to be with Ryan because my wife had a meeting to which she couldn't take him. I was unsure how to spend the time. My first (habitual and acculturated) impulse was "he's been suspended, so I should support that suspension by making this time if not a punishment at least not very pleasant." That thought was soon replaced with "What am I thinking? What does it matter that my son broke some arbitrary rule? His intent was not to harm. He is suffering the consequences already, and we've discussed the importance of following rules that are in place to keep others safe, so why punish him more?" In all of this I realized "aha! here's an opportunity to practice love and compassion - to look beyond ideas of right and wrong and just be mindful about our relationship!" So we went to the forest park for a hike, because out in nature is where I feel closest to my son.

At the beginning of our time together, I decided not to worry about the time, to let him lead me, and to just be present with him and the beautiful surroundings. I am always amazed how much more I notice when I let go of time like this - looking at the world through the eyes of a child who has not yet become a slave to clock and calendar.

We saw so many things together: a box turtle who obliged us by showing how he retracts into his shell (but was willing to wait longer to come out than we were to see it). A detached butterfly wing that fluttered and flitted when blown from my hand with a puff of breath. An enourmous fungus that was warm and tan and wrinkled. A pink leaf to take home to little sister Katy. A complete set of dragonfly wings with the head-shaped exoskeleton still attached.

We stopped at the creek to play and rest - him to play, me to rest. I watched the clouds through the gently moving trees and listened to his humming and happy chatter in counterpoint to the gently sounds of the stream. He told me a fantastic story about a giant and a dragon boat and castles that turn to sand and heroic rescues and so much else I could barely comprehend it all. I felt nothing but pure joy at his presence - love and compassion at meeting him beyond right and wrong.

As we approached the car, it began to sprinkle. We were hot and sweaty from our hike, so I said "do you want to sit in the rain for a while?" He agreed, so we sat on some wooden barriers between the parking lot and a grassy meadow and enjoyed the rain. We found rough-surfaced leaves with drops of water that could be collected with the tip of another leaf and aggregated into one large magnifying drop. We played with our leaves together and enjoyed the gentle rain. The meadow smelled of fresh rain and glistened with wet fallen leaves.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, we found our field together.

Word Up

2005-09-22T20:39:00.000-04:00

If you want to leave a comment, you'll notice you're now required to enter a "word verification." This is to prevent "comment spam," which has begun to be quite annoying. Sorry for the inconvenience!

One Thing at a Time

2005-09-15T15:00:00.000-04:00

Sunday during coffee hour, a member of my congregation wanted to ask me something while I was filling out an RE registration form. I asked her to wait until I was finished with the paperwork, and she said "what's the matter, can't you multitask?"

Then the other night at our Covenant Group meeting, we talked about what fulfills us - what makes us feel like we're really expressing ourselves. I realized that being able to really do just one thing at a time - to be focused on and present to each moment, each task - is what I have found most fulfilling lately.

I love reading to my little daughter Katy, but I have found myself hurrying through the stories - as if my "goodness" as a daddy depends on how many books we can read before dinner. When I'm a REALLY good daddy, however, I relax, slow down, and really enjoy reading the story. That's all I'm doing - sitting on the couch with my daughter in my lap, reading a book. Starting off with cuddles and kisses helps me to focus.

Washing the dishes is another activity best done by itself. It's almost a cliche, actually, thanks to Thich Nhat Hanh's well-known essay on the subject. Lately I've been trying to approach the dirty sink reverently, appreciating the opportunity to clean the dishes and complete that particular cycle of life. I try to reframe it from "why can't anybody else rinse off their darn dishes!?" to "what a wonderful opportunity to care for my family." Occassionally I succeed.

I've always loved being out of doors. Nature demands my attention, and I feel present and alive when I'm out in it. During a recent mountain bike ride, I was very tired and sleepy, so I decided to stop and lie down to rest a bit. I found an enormous tree that had blown over, with a long stretch of broad trunk that was almost flat. I climbed up on it, lay down on my stomach, and relaxed.

I never quite fell asleep, but I did gradually sink into my environment. I heard insects buzzing, birds calling, squirrels chattering, leaves rustling in the breeze, and the crash of a falling branch. I felt the rough surface of the bark beneath me, and the solidness of this tree. I felt the warmth of the day and the caress of the soft air. I became part of it all for a short time, and it was good. I was present.

Doing one thing at a time can be a spiritual practice - after all, what are prayer and meditation?

Fall

2005-09-09T09:55:00.000-04:00

What if the highest destination
Of any given human life
Wasn't a place you could reach if
You had to climb

Wasn't up above like heaven
So no need to climb at all
What if to reach the highest place
You had to fall

What if all the sages
Thinking about realms out of reach
Would memorize the pages
Of gravity

What if getting to the highest place
Is like learning what you know
Or like getting to where you are now
Like coming home

Partial lyrics to "Fall" by UU musician and songwriter Peter Mayer

Keep Flossing

2005-08-31T09:36:00.000-04:00

My wife's aunt was killed in an auto accident almost two years ago. She was young and in good health, so her death was unexpected and shocking to the whole family. She provided a lot of care for her older husband and 93 year old mother, so her loss left a big hole in many places.

Caroline had no children, so many of her effects were given to her five nieces, including my wife. Our closet now has a lot of her clothes in it, and when my wife wears them I sometimes feel a wave of regret that I hadn't appreciated Caroline when she was alive.

When we would visit her, I was often frustrated by what I perceived as her lack of time awareness and unconcern for the hour when we ate dinner. I was more focused on getting our kids to bed "on time" than appreciating the languid pace of life in Caroline's world. Dinner was not to be rushed, neither in preparation nor in consumption, but rather was to be savored as a meaningful time for conversation and shared work.

Unfortunately, I let that frustration color my attitude toward her, and I never really appreciated how she lived her life. I fervently wish I had another chance - a "do-over" - so I could make that right and express my appreciation and admiration of her. Because I don't, I floss.

One of the things we got from Caroline's effects was a huge supply of dental floss. My first reaction when I saw this large bag of little plastic boxes was to muse what a pointless activity flossing is when you could get run over when crossing the street on any given day.

While I was in Iraq, however, I rethought that attitude. I decided that Caroline must have been on to something - that flossing is about more than healthy gums. Flossing expresses a confidence in the future, a belief that there will be another day for flossing, and that flossing itself is as important as any other activity that could be undertaken. I started using the dental floss I'd been carrying around for so long, and it became a habit.

I've continued this habit since my return - religiously, you might say. There are many times when I think "I don't have time to floss right now" or "it's just too much bother - what will it hurt to skip this time?" Sometimes I don't do it, but for the most part it has become an important part of my morning and evening ablutions. Flossing is an undertaking that is congruent with my desire to do all things mindfully and with a focus on the process, not the outcome.

Oftentimes I think about Caroline while I floss, and this morning I realized that I don't even know if she was a regular flosser. I bet she was - maybe only because it was the sensible thing to do - but I think also because she knew at some level what I'm learning so slowly - life is a journey, not a destination.

Yesterday I had my teeth cleaned, and for the first time ever I was praised for my healthy gums, rather than lectured about the importance of flossing!

Thank you, Caroline.

Blowing Hot Air

2005-08-29T10:24:00.000-04:00

This morning as I was heating a drink in the break room microwave, I watched Fox "News" for a few minutes. I usually avoid watching this (or any other TV, for that matter), but the picture really caught my attention: a man in a blue raincoat in a hotel parking lot, leaning into Hurricane Katrina, valiantly speaking into the microphone as rain lashed past.

I thought "he must really have something important to say," but when I started paying attention to his words, they were more like "well, it's really coming down now - the rain and wind are getting heavier - we're all cut off from the outside - WOW a section of the hotel gutter just went flying by."

What? There is heavy rain and strong wind in a hurricane? I'm sure glad that reporter was risking his well-being and perhaps his life to bring us this news flash.

I've been through about a dozen typhoons during my four deployments to Japan. Although there is initially a certain amount of fun involved in playing outside in the big wind (hitting golf balls is a perennial favorite), it wears off pretty fast when the big rain comes - and then -

you go inside!

Silliness

2005-08-25T11:50:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week at a Covenant Group meeting, there was a small kitten in attendance. Besides being comforting and soft, her presence also reminded me not to take things too seriously - especially myself.

My kids also constantly remind me of the importance of play and silliness. Last week as I was driving my daughter home we had the most fun - "Daddy, you're a silly goose!" "No, Katy, YOU are a silly goose!" "No, Daddy, YOU are the silly goose." My son is very silly too, but because he's older, sometimes his silliness is a bit more calculated and weird. Just mention the word "underwear" in his presence (or in the presence of ANY 8-year-old, I'm told) and listen to the gales of laughter. Silly.

I also get to be silly at work. Yesterday during a lull in the frantic activity, my fellow geeks and I produced a bogus technical paper using what's known as context-free grammar. We had great fun with the silly titles and nonsensical phrases. Try it - it's free and funny, and honestly these meaningless papers read about the same as many serious ones!

The really silly part is how we e-mailed this ridiculous paper to one of our former professors at the Naval Postgraduate School, with a vague reference to a nonexistent journal. Hopefully he'll have a sense of humor about it and not take us too seriously.

I sure don't.

Coming Home

2005-08-22T10:48:00.000-04:00

Note: I originally wrote this post two weeks ago, on August 8, but I have been sitting on it. I reviewed it this morning and it still speaks truth, so here it is.

I recently returned home from a week as a Graduate Assistant (GA) at the Pacific Central District (PCD) Leadership School in Alamo, CA. This return was more than just physical - in many ways it was a spiritual return to life and connection from a journey through darkness and loneliness that began in March.

I wrote in a post to A Virginia UU in King George's War about my short "honeymoon" after returning from Iraq, and the jarring realization that life at home wasn't all as great as I had pictured it from my tent at Kalsu. What I haven't written about - not directly, anyway - is how my "reentry" into "normal" life has been far from complete. Since about mid-April, I have struggled to feel connected to the people I have rejoined. I have found myself disillusioned with my congregation, angry with my wife and children, and believing I was truly alone in the world. I thought "oh, it will get better, it will change, this loneliness and anger will disappear." It has only started getting better very recently.

Every Sunday during this period, in our congregation's Joys & Sorrows, I longed to stand up and shout "would you get real? I'm totally alone over here and nobody seems to care!!" but I never found the courage. I grasped my attachment to the belief that I was alone, and that nobody could help me. I had no interest in getting reinvolved in congregational activities. I told myself I would find another congregation, one where I could feel at home and connected, because it was easier to blame other people than to look long and hard inside myself and do the hard work of opening my heart to those who were already there. I found myself increasingly short-tempered with my wife and children, and I often felt like a stranger in my own home. I withdrew in subtle ways, spending hours with guitar and bike and sleeping. I believed I was trapped in my life, without hope of rescue or improvement. Being miserable became a habit, and I grew attached to it.

Two days before I left for Leadership School, I finally realized - or admitted to myself - that something had fundamentally changed in the way I relate to other people since my deployment. I had thought about this before, and attributed it to being alone so much of the time. Now I'm not so sure, and I'm exploring other possible explanations (there are many). Regardless of the cause, I had become alone and withdrawn. Other people noticed, of course - my wife, my mom, and some perceptive friends. One friend even mentioned my "separateness" in a comment about a previous post - to which I replied a bit dismissively. Thank you all - I just wasn't ready to listen. Or see.

It was very fortuitous that I was on my way to Leadership School when this epiphany occurred. My first reaction, however, was fear - how could I go there and fulfill my role as a GA with this huge "thing" in my life? I quickly realized that it was the perfect time to go - to take my whole self to this environment, to model living as an imperfect, hurting person. Another beauty of bringing my pain to this environment was being able to tell my story to a group of loving friends in a circle of trust and support, knowing that I would be listened to and held without fear of anyone trying to "fix" me or give unsolicited advice. Just being listened to when I expressed my pain and loneliness was healing beyond measure.

I brought three vital lessons back from Leadership School with me - three gems I can return to when the going gets tough, fear returns, or I begin to believe I'm alone again. I don't know if they are obvious to other people, but they came hard won to me.

First, part of living an authentic life is bringing my whole self to my relationships, pain and all. Right relationship is deep enough to handle real emotions, from the highest pinnacles of joy to the lowest pit of despair. Fear of rejection or ridicule can be hard to overcome, but without taking risks and making real connections, existence is a shallow mockery of life.

Second, it is all right to fail and even to be miserable. I can give myself permission to fall - permission to be human - another aspect of an authentic life. I can let go of my attachment to "being OK," and accept sadness and loneliness as aspects of my Self. By acknowledging these emotions and accepting myself, true healing can begin. It takes a lot less time (and pain) to accept these feelings and let them run their course than to repeatedly push them under, only to have them bubble back to the surface.

Finally, Community provides a place to bring my whole self, a container in which to share my pain and failings, and a place to be heard and held. Community is where I can go when there seems to be nowhere else to turn. There is nothing more empowering than having other people lovingly listen to me, reflect on what they heard me say, and accept me for who I am. This connection is what I find most worthy in organized religion.

Life is a cycle of journeys. Having finished this foray (I hope) through the depths of despair, I have embarked on a new one. Two weeks ago in Joys & Sorrows, I stood and spoke from the heart of my pain, loneliness, and disconnection, bringing my whole self back to the community for the first time in months. It took a lot of effort to overcome my inertia - it would have been so easy to just sit there, mouth closed, feeling lonely and sad. But I didn't - I drew on the transcendant power of Right Relationship and Beloved Community to find the courage to speak. It felt like starting over.

Of course I don't know where this journey will take me, but I'm sure it will contain hope, fear, joy, and sorrow. All I can do is try as hard as I can to bring my whole self along, give myself permission to fall and fail, and surrender to the support of my beloved community.

Fasten your seatbelt, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

What is Truth

2005-08-05T11:09:00.000-04:00

Earlier this summer, I tried unsuccessfully to explain Unitarian Universalism to a coworker - the result was my post The Seinfeld Religion. Yesterday he and I had another theological conversation, and after this one I think his understanding of UU was greater. At any rate, I spent a lot of time telling him about MY vision of UU and talking about the principles and sources. In the process, he challenged me by asking "what truth are you searching for?" After much discussion, for me the question became "what is Absolute Truth?" I didn't have an answer. I still don't have an answer. I may never have an answer. It's a big question.

I've only been thinking about this for about 24 hours, but so far what I've discerned is 1) I don't believe there is Absolute Truth that universally applies to everything in all circumstances, and 2) this is really not a question that matters a lot to me right now anyway.

Briefly, Truth - or God, for that matter - is not a dualistic yes/no, true/false, black/white subject. There are infinite shades of gray, because my perspectives and beliefs depend upon my frame of reference and worldview. I can't dictate what is true for another person (although we might be able to agree on "truth" within a shared frame of reference). In fact, I can't even claim to be an "objective observer" of Truth, because the subject-object dichotomy that undergirds much of traditional Western thinking is a false one.

One premise of process thinking (and quantum physics) is that interactions between "agents" produce emergent properties that are new, different, and entirely unpredictable. This means that my interaction with or observation of something inevitably affects the outcome. The experimenter becomes part of the experiment; the observer becomes the observed. How then, can there be Universal, Absolute Truth? My observation of, or claim to, this Truth is an interaction - MY Absolute Truth emerges, which is not universal.

This has been an interesting intellectual exercise, but honestly the questions of Absolute Truth are not that compelling to me right now. My focus on mindfulness and the present moment is better expressed in a question such as "how can I live my life filled with meaning and worth?" That is an answer worth searching for - truth for me. I care more about walking the path with eyes and heart wide open than knowing what's at the center of the labyrinth.

Where Have I Been?

2005-08-04T14:51:00.000-04:00

I've been traveling and busy...and a lot of other places.

Just for fun:

bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C. /

Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.

Thanks to the Left Coast Unitarian for having this on his blog so I could try it out.

Other countries are not part of the "state game" here, but I could add (in no particular order):

Japan / Thailand / China / Taiwan / Singapore/ S. Korea / UK / Netherlands / Austria / Germany / Czech Republic / Italy / France / Spain / Iraq / Kuwait /Ireland / Israel / Egypt / Mexico / Canada

Guess how many of these countries (and states) I've been to solely because of my life in the Marines?

The Labyrinth

2005-07-27T18:17:00.000-04:00

alone

I walk the labyrinth
bared sole and eyes closed
feeling my way along a Path unseen

another

feels her way with bared soul
alone

in my darkness
she passes unseen
with Namaste

not alone

Ribbon Madness

2005-07-20T08:54:00.000-04:00

Don't you love all the ribbons you see on cars: "Support the Troops" - "God Bless America" - "End Breast Cancer." During our recent vacation in Colorado, I saw a car with a "support the troops" yellow ribbon that had been augmented with the phrase "Stop Bogus Wars." Pretty funny. Even better: check out this website.

A New Look for the VA UU

2005-07-18T15:35:00.000-04:00

I have completed my latest blog project - transferring my Iraq blog from Verizon to blogspot. The indexes are now complete and functional.

Some More of the Story

2005-07-13T09:36:00.000-04:00

Probably not the last word in this affair, but thanks to Chalice Chick for pointing out this eye-witness account of events inside the arena during the GA closing ceremony.

The witness, an usher, makes a good point that the problem here (from her perspective) was not the RACE of the youth, but their behavior. Stay tuned for more on this - it's not going away.

Our "Dirty Little Secret?"

2005-07-12T20:28:00.000-04:00

On Sunday during our worship service, a long-time member whose young adult daughter had attended GA related her daughter's account of some racial incidents during GA. This was the first I had heard of it - young UUs of color being mistaken for hotel employees, for one.

Well today I found out that there is much more to this issue. Apparently during the closing ceremony, there was a racially charged incident outside the arena, which resulted in the cancellation of the final GA dance. I was oblivious to all of this, having skipped the closing ceremony to get a good night of sleep. These incidents definitely have the attention of the UUA (here's a letter about it from the UUA Board), and it's sparked a lot of debate in the UU Blogosphere, particularly on the FUUSE website.

From my reading of the 57 (and counting) comments on FUUSE about this issue, here's what seems to have happened: an adult white male challenged a group of youth of color about their "right to be there" in the hall outside of the arena (where the closing ceremony was being held), because some or all of them were not wearing nametags; the youth reacted strongly to this challenge, and a shouting match ensued; finally, a minister became involved (on the side of the adult) and exchanged words with one of the youth. It got physical to the point where someone "had to be restrained." Ugly stuff. I wasn't there, so I don't claim to know what really happened, but that's my interpretation of what I read. Some of the commenters attribute it to end-of-GA fatigue and/or ageism rather than racism.

Reading about this issue and considering how white and middle-class my congregation is (and my previous congregation, and GA, and by extension, the UUA) makes me think about the other institution I'm deeply involved with. The Marine Corps is the most thoroughly integrated (racially, anyway) group I've ever been in. Marines are "dark green" or "light green," not black or white, and there is an effective system for dealing with incidents (or perceptions) of prejudice. It's not perfect, of course, and as I was just reminded, a "dark green Marine" might not agree with my perception of racial harmony in the Corps.

At any rate, there are a lot more people of color in my workplace than in my congregation. I would guess they feel comfortable in the Corps because of a shared ethos and common interests, whereas I've been told by a black woman that our congregation "just wasn't her people." Hmmm. Seems we have some work to do.

Night Lights

2005-07-03T22:25:00.000-04:00

There are more spiders in Virginia, but the lights are brighter in Colorado.

Once again I'm writing about riding - this time about riding at night. And some other things too, perhaps.

In Virginia, I ride under tall, leafy trees, where it is VERY dark even on a moonlit night. Just about the only man-made light in evidence is my headlamp, which reflects lots of eyes - spiders (all over the trail), deer (all around the woods), opossum, raccoons, and of course the "mystery eyes."

Saturday night I ride near my in-laws' on South Table Mountain, west of Denver. It is very open and exposed, and on a moonlit night it would be brilliantly lighted and I wouldn't even need my headlamp. The mountain is like an oasis or island in the seething humanity of the western Denver suburbs - a few hundred acres of grasslands, shrubs, rocks, wildlife, and trails. It's a great place to ride, day or night.

I notice right away that things are different from my typical Virginia forest riding experiences. First of all, there are hardly any spiders, usually evidenced by the bright little green pinpoints of light in the trail reflected from their eyes. There are other animals, but not the number and variety I'm used to seeing at home. There are deer, rabbits, and mice (never seen a mouse during a ride before), and some curious sort of ground dove that likes to nest in the trail, then burst skyward in a flurry of wings as my front wheel comes near. This bird's eyes are bright yellow, almost golden, and one of them flies directly in front of me for a while, periodically sneaking looks at me back over its shoulder with its glowing orb.

Besides the different wildlife, I am surrounded not by dark trees and forest here, but rather by an absolute sea of cultural lighting. Stopping for a breather and a drink of water, I can see much of Jefferson County, north toward Boulder, east to Denver and beyond, and south to Green Mountain and I-70 disappearing into the Hogback notch. The western horizon is mostly dark, although I know the town of Golden itself is hidden down there.

There are long strings of lights on the freeways, little pools of lights on streets in residential neighborhoods, and huge, brightly lighted spots here and there. Without exception the brightest places are sports venues, car dealerships, and malls. Even at 10 PM, with no ball players or customers in evidence, these places lie under rows of arc lamps, wasted megawatts ruining any view of the night sky. Hmmm.

There are also fireworks, from two places near downtown Denver, and another one near Green Mountain. As my ride progresses and the clock ticks toward 10:30, they build up to furious codas of light and sound (only a faint booming and popping from my distant post), and then they fade into darkness and silence, leaving only drifting clouds of smoke to mark their previous locations.

These three things - the wildlife I encounter in the peace of my ride, the garishly and wastefully lighted commercial and athletic venues, and the loud, violent display in celebration of our national independence - give me pause. What is it about our country that is worthy of celebration - what tangible, real thing can I grasp that has meaning and value? When the "shock and awe" are over, and the clouds of smoke have drifted away, what do we have left?

Is it the ubiquitous mega-mall, the multiplex, the super-sized car dealership selling super-sized cars?

Is it the ball field where people pay to watch "professionals" play games that have their roots in mock combat?

No. I choose the animals and the birds, the calm dark of the mountain at night. I choose these things that were here in "America" long before we were, and will persist long after humanity is but a fading memory. I choose Nature and all her glory, for that is what truly makes this a great country.

Happy Birthday, America - love it or lose it.

Meditation on Two Wheels

2005-07-02T09:36:00.000-04:00

My biggest challenge in living a life of Mindfulness is to truly be present in all that I do. It's so easy to let my mind wander, to dwell on the past or plan for the future, or get distracted by something else going on around me. Sadly, this is often true when I sit down to meditate; the "monkey mind" has its own agenda and rather than focusing on my breathing in, breathing out, I find myself watching the picture show inside my head.

Much the same thing happens sometimes when I'm riding my mountain bike, especially on an easy or familiar trail - I think about posts to write, what I'm going to do when I finish riding, or wonder where that creak in my drivetrain comes from. A new or challenging trail, however, serves to totally focus my mind on the ride.

Yesterday I rode Mustang Trail - a sinuous, flowing singletrack with a 200 foot dropoff to one side and water bars, rock ledges, and roots adding to the challenge. It is the type of trail where inattention can result in disaster, and sometimes riding it is just plain hard work - there is too much going on in my mind, or I'm distracted by animals or the view - and the way is slow.

This time, however, I achieve Meditation in Motion - a quality of mindfulness that transcends the ride itself. Each rock, root, or water bar becomes part of the trail's flow, and the imminent danger of the dropoff serves only to sharpen my focus. I feel one with my bike, effortlessly shifing my weight and gears as required to accomodate this steep dropoff and that short climb. My lungs and legs are burning, my forearms ache from riding the brakes, but my mind and soul are free and joyful as my bike and I flow through this moment. The trail is less than a mile long, but in my mind I'm still on it, swooping, climbing and descending, heedless of the cares of the world.

Singletrack, water, blood, the Tao, life itself - it's all about the flow. Where's it going? When will I get there? Will I like it? None of these questions seems to matter when I find these moments of mindfulness.

Life is a journey, not a destination - enjoy the ride.

Country Mouse

2005-06-25T19:35:00.000-04:00

In the story of the country mouse and the city mouse, the country mouse is continually amazed by the wonders of life and the bounty of food available when he visits his cosmopolitan cousin. He is also terrified half to death by cooks, cats, and mousetraps, and decides to return to his less exciting, but more peaceful home in the country. I have an Inner Country Mouse.

Country Mouse comes out sometimes when I'm in a new situation, usually when there is a crowd of strangers or a lot going on. For example, I really felt like Country Mouse the first few times I went to the Pentagon - it's a big, intimidating building, with lots of security and an unbelievably complex floorplan, so you better know where you're going. And allow plenty of time to get there. Now that I have a weekly meeting there, however, I've become accustomed to the security drill and know exactly how to get to my meeting room.

Country Mouse came out twice today here at General Assembly. The first time was this morning, when I entered the Rio Grande Room of the Renaissance Worthington Hotel to attend a Meadville-Lombard breakfast. I was there at the invitation of my minister, but had expected a much smaller affair. Seeing nobody I knew (and nobody else in shorts), Country Mouse got scared and off we went. Cereal back at my hotel seemed preferable to a crowd of strangers.

Country Mouse made his second appearance today when I entered the Convention Center right before the program on UUs in the Military in which I participated. I was very nervous entering the building in my Marine Corps uniform. This was the first time I'd worn it around such a large gathering of UUs, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Well, nobody threw rotten vegetables at me or shouted "babykiller" at me - in fact many came up and wished me well. Country Mouse got a little less scared with each interaction. My old friend Karen and my new friend Cynthia also helped, and by the time I had made my way back to the room where our panel program was going to be held, Country Mouse felt much more at ease, so I was able to let him go.

I've never been an extrovert, and I think that's one reason why GA and its crowds take their toll on me. Interestingly, last year (my first GA), I didn't feel quite this way - I felt more like all these people were friends I hadn't met. This year, however, I find myself seeking out more direct, personal contact with people I already know.

It's rewarding to give myself (and Country Mouse) permission to be anxious or uncomfortable, and to care for both of us by saying "no" when the time is right, or saying "yes" when we can work through our discomfort.

Serendipity Strikes Again

2005-06-21T05:40:00.000-04:00

In my first post to this blog, Revolution, I told the story of finding and meeting an old friend after having no contact for 20 years. It's happened again!

Yesterday I got an e-mail from another old and very dear friend, Anne, with whom I did a better job of keeping in touch until about 3 or 4 years ago. She found this blog using Google (the same method I used to find my other friend Jason) and e-mailed me.

The amazing thing is the timeliness of her finding me. I'm leaving for GA today, then going home to Colorado to visit family, and it turns out that Anne will be in our hometown the same weekend I am! Cool. I call it the Tao in action. Or maybe just another happy coincidence.

Anyway, happy Summer Solstice (Midsummer). It's also an auspicious day to view the rising (almost) full moon.

See you at GA?

Democracy, Down & Dirty

2005-06-19T20:36:00.000-04:00

We had our annual Congregational Meeting today - boy am I glad that takes place only once a year. Despite all the arguments about cutting off discussion, when to vote on what, and who could speak when, we managed to pass a by-law amendment and a budget, as well as elect three new board members (including yours truly). It only took about 2 hours, but it seemed like forever.

It occurred to me that perhaps the reason the annual meeting is so painful and dreaded (is it like that in all congregations?) is that we don't practice face to face democracy - where each person has a voice and a direct vote - for most of the year in our congregations, and almost never in society. Maybe what we need is more practice. Practicing parliamentary procedure would certainly make it easier when the time came when it was really necessary, but I think that would be a hard sell as an adult RE class. Maybe a handout prior to the annual meeting - a sort of "Parliamentary Procedure for Dummies" - would suffice. Thankfully our board secretary eats that stuff up.

I also observed both the "tyranny of the majority" and the "tyranny of the minority" today. On one occasion, it was moved and voted to end discussion on a particular amendment (which in fact passed very easily when voted upon). I think there were some hard feelings from those who never got to talk, but a smug sense of "let's get on with it, I had my turn," from those who did speak or didn't care to. On the other hand, much debate was engendered about a by-law amendment (soundly defeated) proposed by one member whose sole purpose in doing so seemed to be to generate discussion. It was certainly successful, but I felt like a captive during much of that talk. The true irony was listening to this person, who sat near me, complaining about Robert's Rules of Order and the extended discussion. I'm not sure what else he expected.

It seems odd that in our faith communities we would engage in a practice so potentially divisive and contentious as the democratic process. Would that we could operate by consensus. Of course it would take even LONGER to be done with the meeting, and we might never come to a resolution. It works well in smaller groups, though.

If nothing else, today's meeting was good practice for GA for our delegates!

Whence Community?

2005-06-17T09:01:00.000-04:00

Last weekend at my son's birthday party, I had some very interesting discussions with my Quaker friend John, including one about religious community.

The word religion has its roots in the Latin ligio (to connect or bind together), and we agreed that the appeal of that community, those bonds, that connection, is one thing that draws people to religion. John then made an observation that caught me by surprise, although in retrospect it makes sense looked at from his perspective. He said that the important thing about religious community is that it forms because God brings people together. This is not at all how I viewed it.

I have viewed religious community as an intentional gathering of people who share a common desire for fellowship and worship beyond what they find in their everyday lives. The concept of Unitarian Universalism as a "chosen faith" highlights the intentionality of this gathering - the choice to be together in community without the bondage (another interpretation of ligio) of traditional creedal religion.

If God is within, among, and around us, then perhaps it IS God that brings us together in community. If the Tao flows through us and all living things, we can follow it into community. If there is just some basic human need for community, we will seek it. Regardless of one's perspective, there seems to be something greater than ourselves that finds its expression in community and meaningful relationship with others.

There is definitely also an element of intentionality to religious community - regardless of any greater, metaphysical call to connect or gather together, each individual must conciously choose to remain in relationship with others. To develop meaningful relationships, moreover, requires effort and commitment well beyond that required merely to show up at church on Sunday.

The most important aspect of community - of religion - is not what brings us there together, but what we do together once we've arrived. Do we recite some static creed and place our hopes in the promise of a better life somewhere else? Or do we celebrate ourselves, our community, and our relationships, nurture each other and the earth, and strive to increase the amount of love and justice in the world?

Something greater than ourselves may bring us together, but it's up to each of us to make something beautiful out of this thing we call community.

Pondering Parenthood

2005-06-15T15:20:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about kids and parenting lately, especially after observing the wide range of behavior (and, implicitly, parenting) displayed at my son's birthday party this weekend. Monday, with marvelous serendipity (God's will? the Tao? coincidence?) I read what two other parents had to say about the joys of parenthood, and both stories resonated with me.

The first one is a post by JField, the Left Coast Unitarian and an e-pen pal of mine while I was in Iraq. His advice on parenting is to relax, don't expect to be perfect, and do what works for you. Amen, brother. His post, and its admonition to be wary of parenting advice from others, makes me think of a quote from a former well-intentioned-unsolicited-advice-giver: "I did my best parenting before I had kids."

The second parental story comes in an e-mail from my good friend Julie, whose son recently graduated from high school. She very eloquently and poignantly relates the birth, growth, and departure from the nest of some baby birds; her story is an apt and moving metaphor of how unbelievably quickly our children grow up, and yet how our love and nurture will inevitably result in their independence and success.

A robin made a nest on the ledge of the drain-spout outside our bedroom window. I watched as she built the nest, sat on the eggs and diligently brought food to her babies throughout the course of each day for weeks. Soon the babies showed their heads. There were four of them and began to be very crowded in the nest. Soon the heads showed constantly, but still she flew back and forth several times a day feeding them as they grew. The nest was in such a precarious position centered on the drain-spout with grass and twigs hanging down each side. The babies were quiet most of the time and really didn't move much at all. the nest never teetered, even when mother bird stood on the edge to feed each one.
One morning I looked out on the deck outside my room and there was a fresh and flufy looking robin sitting there looking around. I realized it must be one of the babies! I carefully opened the door to go out and it took flight. It was the funniest and scariest looking flight right into a nearby tree. It fluttered on the leaves and hopped around until it found a steady branch to rest on. Then it flew down, rather awkwardly to the fence where it rested and looked around. S/he barely made the landing on the fence, but caught herself by fluttering her newly stretched wings. I checked back at the nest and there were only 3, then 2. By the end of the day I saw another baby standing on the edge of the nest and the next time I looked they were all gone.
It made me shutter to think that this (parenting) is all going to be over soon. the leaving is beginning. There are no more lessons to teach, no more wisdom to bestow, just faith in what has taken place and trust that they will always remember where they came from and that they are loved. It is an amazing state to be in. one I am intentionaly holding into a present focus. savoring every moment, loving every minute I can. I never imagined it being like this. my heart is heavy. It has all just flown by.

I'm glad there is a decade before my first baby bird flies away.

May the Farm Be With You

2005-06-14T20:37:00.000-04:00

If you like organic food and Star Wars, you will probably enjoy this.

Goldenlight

2005-06-13T20:40:00.000-04:00

I step outside to Goldenlight
Gone the sun, now comes the night

On leaf and grass and stream and hill,
In sharp relief light lingers still

For just a moment as darkness falls,
The magic of evening beckons and calls

Twill be tomorrow e'er again I sight
Beauty sublime as Goldenlight.

Washing the Dishes

2005-06-12T07:30:00.000-04:00

Every time I wash the dishes (or mow the lawn, or do the laundry, etc.) I am reminded of these words by Thich Nhat Hanh:

To my mind, the idea that doing dishes is unpleasant can occur only when you aren’t doing them. Once you are standing in front of the sink with your sleeves rolled up and your hands in the warm water, it is really quite pleasant. I enjoy taking my time with each dish, being fully aware of the dish, the water, and each movement of my hands. I know that if I hurry in order to eat dessert sooner, the time of washing dishes will be unpleasant and not worth living. That would be a pity, for each minute, each second of life is a miracle. The dishes themselves and the fact that I am here washing them are miracles!
If I am incapable of washing dishes joyfully, if I want to finish them quickly so I can go and have dessert, I will be equally incapable of enjoying my dessert. With the fork in my hand, I will be thinking about what to do next, and the texture and the flavor of the dessert, together with the pleasure of eating it, will be lost. I will always be dragged into the future, never able to live in the present moment.
Each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane. I must confess it takes me a bit long to do the dishes, but I live fully in every moment, and I am happy. Washing the dishes is at the same time a means and an end—that is, not only do we do the dishes in order to have clean dishes, we also do the dishes just to do the dishes, to live fully in each moment while washing them.

Have you done the dishes today?

The Seinfeld Religion?

2005-06-10T11:25:00.000-04:00

I'm not buying the elevator speech any more.

An elevator speech, as articulated by UUA President William Sinkford, is "what you'd say when you're going from the sixth floor to the lobby and somebody asks you, 'What's a Unitarian Universalist?'” No doubt there are as many elevator speeches as there are UUs.

I've revised my own elevator speech several times, and it makes sense to me and the other UUs who've heard it. However, every time I'm asked about Unitarian Universalism in an elevator setting - when put in the spot with time only for a "sound-bite" answer - I invariably stumble and stammer about 7 principles and 6 sources and community, hem and haw about Transylvania and John Murray, and trail off with a lame reference to Ralph Waldo Emerson and Susan B. Anthony.

This morning I try to explain Small Group Ministry (covenant groups) to a Protestant Christian co-worker. He asks me what the reference for such a discussion would be - the Bible, right? I ad-lib my "walking back to the elevator from the snack bar then riding to our floor and walking to our cubicles" speech. I can see his skepticism as I talk about the six sources - other than a brief flicker of interest about "...and Christian teachings..." - and his response is "so, does everyone have a copy of these?" I can see in his eyes he's thinking what's occurred to me on occasion - this "chosen faith" sounds a lot like a Religion About Nothing.

I haven't always felt this way. The first time I walked into the UU Church of the Monterey Peninsula, I saw a poster with the 7 principles. My initial reaction was "duh!" I was overjoyed to find a faith where I could satisfy my spiritual hunger without being told what to believe. It was amazing to find a group of people who seemed to view the world so much like me. I felt at home.

For the first two years after that initial encounter, I worshipped these principles. I memorized them at Leadership School and used them as a mantra for Chakra Breathing. I reflected on them and how I could live my life by them. I taught them to our K-1 RE class. But then I began to wonder - what do any of these have to do with religion? I wonder if Davidson Loehr, the minister of the First UU Church of Austin, TX, is correct about these "Seven Dwarfs." He writes

All seven principles come from the secular culture and secular values of America’s cultural liberals, whether they had a religion or not. That’s why so many visitors can recognize the principles as the sort of things they believed anyway.

Viewed from that perspective, I feel somewhat cheated. Is Unitarian Universalism just a "liberal cult," as one of the members of my congregation described his initial impression from 10 years ago? What's the point of calling it a "church" or a "religion" or a "faith" if all we worship are liberal values, and our main function is to provide a haven for recovering Catholics, Mormons, and Evangelicals? Once people who are really looking for meaning figure this out, what's keeping them around? Loehr goes on to say

I suspect it’s also why they [visitors] often leave when they realize many of the UU churches offer little beyond the ability to socialize with people who share those cultural values and vote for liberal social and political policies.

So why should I stay? I have more questions and doubts about who I am and what I believe than I did when I started. I feel uncomfortable identifying myself as a "UU." Sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own congregation. I wonder why on earth I feel this calling to what might be a "ministry about nothing."

I stay because I'm inspired by almost every UU minister I've met. I stay because I believe people hunger for a religious (gathering together) community for worship (honor that which has the shape of worth) without being bound by creed or dogma. I stay because both congregations I've been part of are vibrant, growing, and nurturing. I stay because of this call, this compulsion, to do ministry. I stay because I can work within my congregation and community to increase the amount of Love and Justice in the world. I stay because our movement is evolutionary and there is the potential for its growth and improvement. I stay because my UU experience has transformed my life, and I think I am on the cusp of even greater understanding, commitment, and yes, faith - of, toward, and about Unitarian Universalism.

Unitarian Universalism is definitely about Something, but it is impossible to convey the depth and potential of our faith in a sound bite or an elevator speech. The seemingly simple - but in reality complex - question "what's a Unitarian Universalist?" deserves a complex answer. An elevator speech or sound-bite answer may have a place in casual conversation, but if I encounter someone who really wants to know more about UU, I should be willing to take the time to develop and give a more thorough answer.

I think my new elevator speech will be something like "it's complicated. Can we find somewhere to sit down so I can take some time to explain it to you? Or maybe you'd like to come to a service with me this Sunday - here's my card."

After all, Unitarian Universalism is something to experience, not talk about.

Critter Encounters

2005-06-09T11:57:00.000-04:00

Two days in a row now I've had an interesting "critter encounter."

Snakes

Yesterday I was riding my mountain bike on the trails behind where I work, and I stopped at the top of a long climb to rest and cool off (it's suddenly summer - this was the first hot ride I've had since last September!). As I leaned my bike toward a telephone pole, I noticed out of my peripheral vision something moving near my front wheel.

I looked down, then immediately jumped back, startled by the large black snake I saw there. Once my initial surprise (shock?) had subsided, I realized this looked like a snake I'd seen before. Back in April I was walking in the woods, and I saw what looked like a two-headed black snake. On closer inspection it was two snakes entwined with one another, presumably mating. I watched them for a while (voyeur!), but moved along once it became apparent they were not going to do anything interesting. My post-walk research led me to believe I had seen two Northern Black Racers.

Northern Black Racer

I lay my bike down and crouched to get a better look at this fine-looking reptile, when I heard an ominous rattling from the dry leaves under a bush near this snake. For the second time in a minute I jumped back, thinking "what? a rattlensake too?"

After relocating my bike about 20 feet away, my overwhelming curiosity overcame my caution, and I returned to the bushes at the base of the telephone pole, with a stick this time. I gently probed the leaves where I had heard the rattling, and to my not-so-great surprise the black tail of my new friend resumed making the noise. Aha! Nice deception plan.

Back at the computer after my ride, I tried to verify that a Northern Black Racer would shake its tail in imitation of a rattlesnake. I discovered, however, that based on the rattling behavior, the snake I saw (at least yesterday, and perhaps on the previous occasion) was more likely an Eastern Black Kingsnake. Not being a herpetologist, I probably couldn't tell the difference.

Eastern Black Kingsnake

Turtles

My second "critter encounter" involved a turtle - sadly, I am not sure what kind. Anyway, this morning I was driving along a road on base and saw a small round shape in my side of the road. As I passed over it, I saw the head and legs. Seeing there was no traffic, I turned around and pulled up next to the seemingly dazed amphibian scuttling at top speed along the road.

As I approached it, the turtle redoubled its efforts, still heading along the road rather than across it. I picked it up and carried it, struggling valiantly, to the side of the road. I put it down with an admonition to avoid the pavement from now on.

I had another potential opportunity for turtle rescue recently, when I saw an Eastern Box Turtle lying in an off-base road . There was too much traffic to stop, so I could only hope he or she made it safely across the road.

These turtles are very common around here, and I see them around the trails all the time. Unfortunately they are not very smart about roads and cars, so if you see one of these slowpokes on the road, please slow down and avoid it. If you can do so without risking your life, you can do your own turtle rescue.

Eastern Box Turtle

Sampler Platter

2005-06-08T15:08:00.000-04:00

There is a lot going on in my life these days - and a lot going on in my mind - so much that I've had a hard time writing a lot about any one thing. I want to write, so I decided to just write a LITTLE about several ideas.

Zen and the Art of Guitar Tuning

I am currently reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance , a longtime favorite of mine by Robert M. Pirsig. Besides being a thought-provoking exploration of reality and Quality, it's an engrossing "road story" of a man, his son, and the ghost of his past. I highly recommend reading it if you haven't already, or reading it again if you have.

This book definitely makes me think about how Quality applies to my life. The other day I worked on one of my guitars, illustrating both sides of the classical/romantic divide cut by Phaedrus' knife. I adjusted the neck of my little travel guitar so that it would play better in tune, and with a lighter "action" (action refers to the distance of the strings from the fingerboard and frets - the higher they are, the more force is required to push them down, hence "heavy" action).

From the "classical" or "square" standpoint, I knew the guitar's neck was out of adjustment, and that by changing the underlying form, I would bring it back into alignment and harmony (pun intended). From the "romantic" or "hip" standpoint, I knew that the guitar did not sound good, and something needed to change to correct this unpleasant external reality and restore harmony. From both the classical and romantic viewpoints, tightening the neck rod and putting on new strings improved the Quality of the instrument - now it's properly adjusted (classical underlying form) and sounds great (romantic external reality)!

Life and Death in Small Places

Spring is the season of rebirth and change, and we've had plenty of that around our house. Unfortunately, we've also had some losses.

Our daughter is very enamored with butterflies, so we ordered some Painted Lady caterpillars to watch their metamorphosis. We watched their growth and eating with great interest, and by about two weeks ago all four had climbed up to the top of the enclosure and became chrysalids. Earlier this week, two of them had emerged - of course while we weren't looking! It was a lot of fun to set these beautiful creatures fly and be free - although not without some tears from a little girl who wanted to keep one as a pet.

Our son also loves nature and critters, but his desires run to mantids and tadpoles. That is why we now have a container of praying mantis egg cases - a total of almost 300 eggs - in the fridge. We are currently negotiating how they are going to be "raised" and whether any of them will remain with us once they've hatched.

He also had about 12 tadpoles (adopted during a camping trip last month, described here), but unfortunately they are no longer with us. He was very diligent about feeding his little friends, but unfortunately we didn't get around to changing their water until it was too late. It is a grim example of how a community can choke on its own waste, and a devastating loss to our young naturalist. His anguished tears of loss and guilt cut to the core of my being and nearly broke my heart. Fortunately kids are resilient, and after a good night's sleep he was able to look forward to next spring, and the next batch of our tadpole friends.

Perfection in Pajamas

I love watching my kids while they are sleeping - that's why waking them up in the morning is one of the best parts of my day. I see their angelic, perfect little faces, relaxed and composed in peaceful slumber. I see their bodies - sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes stretched long, sometimes with feet on the pillow - so quiet and still for the last time today until sleep comes again.

This is the mental image I strive to maintain throughout the day - a picture of childlike perfection to overcome my frustration with whining, misbehavior, and other parental challenges.

It's easy to adore a sleeping child.