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Stung

It’s the end of November and wasps are supposed to be hibernating right? There I was standing in my hallway doing laundry on a cold Sunday afternoon and I felt something on my neck. I reached back and was immediately stung by a wasp just as I grabbed it and threw it away from me. I have no idea where it came from, but it occurs to me that as a metaphor, getting stung by something that came out of nowhere is kind of how it goes sometimes. I am not talking about deep emotional hurt or loss here, but rather the unfortunate occurance, the disappointment, the slap in the face that kind of shocks you. I suppose I am fortunate that I don’t have an allergy (this isn’t the first time I have been stung) and I am glad it stung me instead of my daughter who was standing with me and who was very concerned that something had hurt her dad (we are supposed to be invincible). It hurt and swelled up briefly, but the pain went away pretty quickly and I am left wondering whether there are more wasps lurking and waiting to sting again.

There are all sorts of learnings here about getting over the sting quickly and not allowing it to make us afraid and those are probably the most important things, but it’s no fun having to get stung to learn those lessons. I once fell into a nest and was stung more than fifty times, but the difference is that it was my fault. I trampled their nest and they were defending it. Today it just happened. Sometimes we can’t predict, we can’t really prepare and even when we don’t do anything to deserve it we can get stung. I hold no grudge, but I also don’t plan on making friends with a wasp anytime soon. In the long run it’s how we deal with the setbacks, how we recover from the times we are stung that ultimately will defines us. It’s never about moving on and forgetting, it’s about learning and carrying on in the face of the harsh and the difficult. Sometimes we get stung, but we can’t let it paralyze us, we can instead choose to be made stronger by it.
Then again, maybe I am grasping at metaphors and the reality is, I actually did get stung by a wasp so perhaps the lesson is simply: “don’t grab at wasps; they might sting you.”
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Swim

Anyone who knows me knows that I have an Ipod filled not with music, but with audio books. I don’t listen to music much (though I do have a habit of bursting into song), but every once in a while I encounter a song or an album that intrigues me. It’s rarely about the music for me, it’s almost always about the lyrics, the words. Eddie Vedder’s sound track to “Into the Wild,” especially “Society,” anything by the Doors, “End of My Journey” by Harry Stewart, “It’s Hard Our Here for a Pimp” (had to throw that in to see if you are still with me), the sort of song that has a lesson to give. Last night I heard such a song on the Daily Show and it brought to mind something I had already been thinking I would write about.

Saturday morning we took my daughter swimming. She is fearless in general and jumps in with the full trust that either someone will lift her up or that she will find her way up to the surface somehow or another. When she dives under water she kicks and paddles not in fear, but with a determination that she will swim. There are all sorts of life lessons here about trust, conquering fears, making your own fun on a Saturday morning and every one of them points for me to a sort of self reliant determination.
The song, “Swim” by Jack’s Mannequin uses swimming as its metaphor for not just keeping your head above water (though the song ends with this), but for continuing to paddle even if it feels you are going against the stream. It’s when you feel you might be drowning, when you are being pulled away from the things you love that you need to swim harder. There is a social commentary in the song about swimming “for the lost politicians who don’t see their greed as a flaw,” and “swimming through wars without a cause.” It’s always interesting what you can read into someone else’s words, but I hear the song pushing for the determination to “swim through the hurt” and to keep on working for good and positive things despite what world leaders might do, and maybe even “for them” so they can find a way past all the things that get in the way of positive change.
The song and my daughter’s determination are personal. Like I said they speak to me of self-reliant determination, but the song brings it into the world beyond self too. It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the torrent of life going on around you, but even when faced with the flood waters, we need to jump in and swim harder. We need to conquer our fears, we need to trust that somehow, someway we will rise above, we need to have fun on Saturday mornings and we need to be determined.
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A place of self


I was doing yoga the other day and was reminded of a guided meditation that was a part of a workshop called, “The Spiritual Journey.” Our teacher talked about how we all need a place where we feel safe and free to be truly ourself, a place to escape to in a sense. One common form of meditation is to be able to go to that place in your mind even if you can’t go there physically. For some it’s an imaginary place, but for most it’s a place that holds in it a deep emotional connection. It may be a place from childhood or a place where something significant and good happened. It could be the top of a mountain, a bench with a view, your room at home (I know someone who says it’s their bathroom because that’s the only place they are truly alone), or even a store that you like to wonder through (my daughter and I used to wonder through the hardware store every Monday just dreaming of projects, but rarely getting anything to actually work on something). I guess the point is that it really can be anywhere so long as it’s a place where you feel the most true to yourself.

We usually think of these places as ones that are private and individual, but sometimes it’s a place that you shared with someone who helped you feel that freedom and safety so that in a sense that person is your place. I remember that when I did the exercise it was easy for me to choose a place, because there was only one place that ever really felt like a retreat for me and it was my family cabin. I usually go there alone now, but the memories I have that make it that place for me are more rooted in family as a place where we would go to be a family with no distractions. We would play games into the middle of the night and my brother and I would go off on an adventure in the morning.
I guess what made me want to write about it is that I was feeling a little off center and it was the meditative exercise during a day at home alone that took me to that place. I was reminded of how important it is to not only have a place of refuge, a place of self, but how important it is to let yourself go there (even it is just in your minds eye). Even the person who lives most in the present has roots in the past and the future looses meaning when you loose yourself and don’t have that special place to hold on to. What a gift it is to have a place of self.
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An Ode to Dessert

Dessert is my favorite part of a meal. It’s amazing how a good dessert can make a bad day seem not so bad. I have always had a sweet tooth (inherited from my father), but I am not so much a candy person as I am a dessert person. It’s one of the main reasons I exercise (maybe not the main reason, but it seems like a good reason not to feel guilty about indulging in dessert). The other day I walked three miles to find a gelato place in downtown Seattle and though the gelato was just good not great, the combination of the walk and the gelato were invigorating (I may be exaggerating the effect of the gelato, but I did feel pretty good after the two). Gelato has become my dessert of choice lately and though it wasn’t as good as the gelato in Milan I am glad to have found a place in Seattle that was pretty good. I am doing a survey of the lemon tarts at the local bakeries too, but I have yet to find one that I feel like I have to go back for a second.

So you might be asking, “why in a blog focused on knowledge and experiences would I spend a whole paragraph on dessert?” My first answer is that the pursuit of a good dessert and the enjoyment of sweetness in all combinations of flavors do in fact seem a knowledge gaining experience for me. My second is that I actually think letting yourself enjoy dessert is a valuable lesson in life. A wise woman in one of my congregations had a rule that when we would go to lunch everyone had to have dessert. I think she was teaching us to always save room for the good stuff. There are plenty of things we have to do, but it’s those extra things, the sensations of indulgence and the sweet joy of the thing you do, not because you have to, but because you really want to, those are why we live. There is something to be said about a great meal and taking care that even in the things you have to do they are good, but we need room in our lives for the extra joys, whatever they may be. Dessert has a curative effect on me. When I am down or bored, a good dessert (both the metaphorical dessert and the real) can shock me back into seeking the positive joy of every moment. I wrote earlier about adventure and that is a dessert for me. A good book, exercise, games with friends and family (looking forward to the holidays) those are dessert for me; and I am a dessert person. Whatever it is for you, you need to leave room for dessert. I would probably go even further than that and say, you just need to leave room for it, you need to seek it out and enjoy every bite.
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El Dios Vivente

I had the pleasure of worshiping with the congregation of El Dios Vivente Iglesia Metodista Unida. Admittedly my spanish is poor, but I have said before that if the spirit is in something then language need not be a barrier. It was a cold and wet day and attendance was about a quarter of what they usually have with only a few families huddled together in the front row, but it was inspiring to see the pastor, full of energy, singing, praying and preaching as if there were thousands. The songs were played from a CD with a jazzed up latin flare that you couldn’t help but get into. The rhythm moves you and it’s like your whole body receives energy from the pulse of the music and the passion of the singing. The sermon was preached from one of the same texts that I had used earlier that day, but the message was something completely different. He talked about preparing yourself for the end of days and living each day with the assurance of salvation (that’s what I got out of it, but remember I don’t really speak spanish). There were some parallels between what he preached and what I did about the permanence and impermanence of things, but from a whole different angle. It was a great lesson in context. I was honored to give the benediction (I wish I had been more prepared with something in Spanish, but the pastor translated for me) and was glad that I had made the trip to offer my support for the ministry that they are doing.

I was reminded of the power of simply being there, the power of showing up and standing with someone. It takes courage and passion to preach in a church built to hold several hundred with a congregation of ten. To be able to look on those few people and know that you have to do it for them you owe it to them to find within you the same energy that you would if there were ten thousand in attendance. Even if you are preaching to ten thousand you also have to see them each as one person seeking. It goes to show that when your message is hope, there is no room to be discouraged. I hope that I can worship with them again and perhaps even absorb some of the passion and grace they have in abundance.
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Adventures

Left to our own devises I asked my daughter what she wanted to do for the day. Her answer was, “read books,” which is a great answer and on many a day I would be happy just staying home and reading books, but the sun was shining and the outside worlds was calling. I asked, “do you want to go on an adventure?” “Yeahhhhhh!” she roared as her immediate response. Then she asked a very important question, “Daddy, what’s adventure?” which prompted me to explore the whole idea of “adventure.”

Webster’s dictionary defines adventure as: “a hazardous, exciting or risky undertaking.” As an optimist I struggle with that definition. I get the exciting part, but hazardous and risky speak only to me of the unknown and the possible so I am afraid that the definition is a bit off putting. I fear that the even slightly timid will be kept from adventure and miss out on the gift of exploration simply because it labeled as something hazardous or risky. Adventure is a journey into the possibilities both known and unknown. We take risks simply by getting out of bed in the morning (or not getting out of bed), but I understand that when most people think “risky” they think of rock climbing (we did see some people rock climbing and in a few years maybe Ainsley will be ready for that one), sky diving, white water rafting and things along those lines. I remember when I was a freshman in college at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and we were given all these different options for an orientation trip. I chose, “white water rafting” and the permission form mentioned the possibility of death something like seventeen times. It’s easy to see that kind of thing as an adventure, but is the possibility of death really our criteria for adventure? It is not an adventure to do something new, learn something new, try some strange food, travel to a distant land, explore a forest; adventure like life is what you make it (or maybe that should be the other way around). Even your daily routine can be an adventure if you make it one.
I guess for me it comes down to a state of mind. Pushing your own bounds and living into the freedom of adventure depend entirely on your outlook. You don’t have to climb mountains, throw yourself off of cliffs, jump out of planes or travel the world to be an adventurer. What you need is to be excited for the possibilities of every moment and to have the willingness to jump into the opportunities that life presents you with. Life is an adventure and the question is, “are you going to sleep through it and be bored with it or are you going to live it fully and be excited by it?”
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Trolls under bridges

As I crossed Fremont Ave. it made me think of the whimsical troll carved out under the bridge, where tourists come and movies film (10 Things I Hate About You), and of the whole idea of trolls who come out to stop us. I met the other day with a group of bridge builders; ecumenists trying to bring people together and I couldn’t help but think about whether it really is the troll under the bridge, the things we see as blocks to our coming together that we fear, or if it is more the idea of what happens once we cross the bridge that scares us. Even the existence of a bridge means change, it means we don’t have to go around things any more and it means that new possibilities exist, so there’s plenty of resistance to building bridges, or even finding bridges as the case may be, but I am more concerned with who will use them once they exist. Who will stand in the gap and stick their tongue out at the trolls beneath in defiance or simply acknowledge their existence with a wave and cross over anyway. We need bridge builders, but we need even more people who will be bridge crossers. Those who are willing to step into the territory of the other, to learn about what exists “over there” and maybe even close or narrow the gap and perhaps go so far as to crush the trolls in the process. Those who go around the gaps have a roll too, but I don’t think we really get anywhere if we ignore the trolls or pretend that gaps don’t exist.

Maybe I am just using a new metaphor to say what’s already been said, but I think this is something else. We often talk about the “elephants in the room,” the things we won’t really or don’t really talk about, but to me those aren’t the trolls. Those may be the things, which prevent bridges being built in the first place or the things that the bridge builders never talked about, but if the bridge exists then those things aren’t what is blocking people from crossing; so what is? Apathy? Fear of losing yourself? Fear of change? Maybe the builders have not been clear enough about how to cross or about what it might look like as we go back and forth and sometimes meet in the middle. Maybe we think it has to be something big, some grand gesture with fanfare, but what if it’s just a couple of friends from different traditions sitting together in a public place showing that it is possible to cross that bridge. My point is that there are lots of bridges out there waiting to be crossed by those willing to stand up to the trolls. We must be willing step out.

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Raking Leaves

From green to gold, orange, red then brown they grow and they dazzle until they fall only to be raked into piles for children (and those who wish to be childlike again) to dive into in a final celebration of their gift to us. It’s easy to miss amidst the dreary gray of a cold and blustery fall day, but autumn is when all of creation’s colors are truly on display. All the shapes and sizes each similar, but with their own signature, unique as snowflakes yet bound together by an inevitable fate and letting go only when their job is done. Even a leaf must have a sense of purpose. It captures the energy of light and drinks in all that it can while it can; working every moment so that its tree, its mother, its home, its roots can live, can carry on and grow to be stronger and better because each leaf does its part. i wonder if a leaf could choose or if more leaves gave up too early, how would the trees ever grow to reach the heavens?

Every element in creation has a purpose, a job and though that purpose may change and adapt like the colors of a leaf, it doesn’t go away even when it’s ignored or missed. From my point of view we owe it to our creator to seek that purpose and we owe it to creation to do our part to ensure that what we leave behind is better, and stronger than what we came into.
What incredible opportunities we have to dream and to grow when we are willing to reach for the heavens in one moment and to jump into the leaves on the ground in the next.
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Deport

I feel incredibly guilty when I catch myself judging someone else, but I try pretty hard to move from judgment to a compassionate desire to engage and discover why they feel the way they feel. AS I was leaving the hospital the other day I was behind a person whose bumper sticker said, “illegal aliens are not immigrants,” and whose license plate says, “Deport.” The bumper sticker is one thing, because those can be placed in a moment of fervor and there isn’t the same kind of permanence (though I did see a political sticker from 30 years ago the other day) as a license plate. The license plate means that they are so sure of their position that they are willing to pay extra to clearly state that opinion to anyone who happens to see their car. i suppose if I were to get a single word license plate it might say, “simplify,” or “intentional,” but even with either of those I would hesitate to apply them without reservation to every situation that might be facing the person who is reading my plate.

I doubt that I will ever get the chance to talk to this person about why they are so strongly in favor of deportation, but it does make me wonder how prevalent that sentiment might be. I think back just a few years to a proposal from President Bush which called for imprisonment followed by deportation for any illegal immigrant pretty much regardless of circumstances. in most instances the people i heard in favor of the proposal felt a lot of fear about drugs and “those people” and anger of a perception that “my taxes are paying benefits to them,” without actually looking at statistics pointing to illegal immigrants more consistently paying their fair share of taxes that legal citizens or considering anything beyond their perceptions. it’s the last part that gets to me; when people fail to consider anything more than what they already perceive. There are very few absolutes in this world. I don’t say that there should be no rules, but circumstances, context and reason always need to be considered.
Just like the fact that I have no idea why this person feels so strongly, I worry that they won’t let themselves see why someone else might feel just as strongly in the opposite way.
I apologize for any judgments that I have made. I know that every situation can be looked at from a million different ways and I believe that unless we are willing to look from the viewpoint most opposite our own then we are in no position to declare anything.
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Agendas

Just because you know your own agenda does not mean that it isn’t hidden from others. How much do we leave unsaid because we assume that others already know? How often do we simply jump right into something without laying the foundations to prevent misunderstanding. If we trusted more in each other this might not be so big an issue, but we don’t. Perhaps in the case of agenda setting we don’t know our own as well as we should and people can see that. This argument goes deeply into the whole idea of doing things simply to do them or doing them because we think that’s what we should do. We earn trust by how genuine and how authentic we are. Intentions do matter and if we are unsure of our own maybe we need to think more about it. Follow-through is a big deal too.

When someone raises a concern about hidden agendas, that means, at least in some way, they don’t trust you and assurances that there aren’t any may seem hollow even if you believe yourself. I for one assume good intentions (yes I am aware of the saying, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”), but I also think it’s critical to understand motivations both in yourself and in others. I may not agree with your agenda, but at least if you give me a chance to hear it we can begin to understand each other. The other side of this is that even though your reason for doing something and my reason for doing the same things might not be the same, it doesn’t mean we can’t work on it together.
We can, we must and we will work together and we will be doing ourselves a favor the more clear we are about why we do what we do.