There is no such thing as a former self.

We are all the parts of our self

The good, the bad,

The wrong, the right

The strange, the unique

The special

Certain people bring out the best in us…

Certain people bring out the worst in us…

WE grow, we change, we adapt

We bend, we diverge, we break…

We go through doldrums and despair

Joy and Elation

We lose people… meaningful people

We fail, we give up, we succeed, we achieve

We live

We loose sight of who we are,

but who we are is never gone

We march on to our own song

We are never perfect

We are always perfect

We are…

Mmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh Mmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh

Spring rain

Washing a bad day away

Ready for my dream to wake and complete my rejuvenation

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhhh Mmmmmm Ahhhhhhhh

This is why we have five senses

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhhh

The grass the bark the trees

The scent of creation

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh

The lights they glimmer like stars

The puddles bringing the heavens to earth

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh

Silence mixed with pat pat pat of drops on each object a different tone

Steady and still sharper, filtered, clear

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh

Purity on the tongue

Tasting the air, the elements accessible

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh

Clean and cool and refreshing

Drenched without feeling wet like touching the whole world all at once…connected

Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhh Mmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhh

Alive

papa coke (audio)

Tough and Tender

A leader of leaders of leaders of leaders

A son of coal

A teacher of teachers

He got things done

A historical, sometimes hysterical, historian

Forever with a story to tell

A permanent glint

Every tale a conspiracy shared just with you

even in a packed house

Sometimes Santa or a mustached miner

Always Coke

Black diamond toughness

A War to end all wars

Sailing the world’s seas

Coach…the coach

A family man

husband

caregiver

dad

grandpa

big papa

more than can be said must be said

already missed

painting (audio)

Are we covering up or creating?

Is it part of constructing? Or is it decorating?

It’s just paint

It can be bold, subtle, dramatic, calming

It can say so much, make a statement, draw the eye

Or it can silently fade into the background not even hinting…or is that the hint

What are we afraid of?

It’s just paint

It can uncompromisingly clash dictating the décor

Or it can compliment and support everything around it making simple seem something more

It’s just paint

It’s therapy, it’s solitary, it’s social, a bonding time

It can make things new in a matter of strokes from a brush,

A few passes of the roller and not just a wall, a room, a house, a building can be transformed

You make something yours…ours

It’s just paint, but what a difference it can make

It’s a fifteen to twenty minute walk from my friend’s apartment to Union Station where I catch the Red line Metro to Tenley Town and then a walk or shuttle ride to American University and the campus of The Wesley Theological Seminary. Everyday I make that walk both ways, seeing some of the same people at the same time as we head to and from our days. I pass by two preschools and watch parent’s bring their kids thinking that it’s still five hours before my own preschooler will head to class on the other side of the country. Every morning between seven and seven thirty I am also reminded that the further East I go in this country the earlier people seem to be headed places and the bigger hurry they seem to be in to get there. If you are on the East coast of the United States they will say that people slow down the further West you get, but being from the West it certainly feels like it’s just that we aren’t ever in as much of a hurry. Even when I am a little later than I planned to be, and I feel like I am walking briskly, I am passed by nearly everyone; young and old, male and female. It’s a little funny to me because once you get to the escalators on the way down to the Metro trains those same people who speed walked by me are just standing on the escalator letting it take them at its own languid pace failing to see the irony as i step past them. I can’t help but wonder if everyone is always running late here, or if they really just move faster. Washington DC is a little different from some other cities like New York or Boston, but still the pace is intense at times. I have written about the unwritten rule of not talking to others when riding the Metro, and I wonder if some of that has to do with this hurry. When I ask someone on the train how their day is going they often react as though no one has asked them that in the longest time. When you move so fast you don’t always have time to even say hello much less to really ask how someone is doing. it’s not even that people aren’t friendly, it’s that when the pace is fast you forget. I have been with whole groups of these fast moving people who have deep relationships that play out on Friday evening at packed restaurants where you may not eat until ten or eleven at night, but you don’t care because you finally feel like you can slow down. It’s almost like because of the pressure to move so fast during the week it makes people that much more intentional about slowing down and using every moment of the weekend. I trying to criticize the pace, but rather simply to take note of it. Living in the Western U.S. there are times we could use a little hurry or even some sense of urgency. Living on an island though hurry does not exist, which suits me just fine, but I respect the pace of others too. i don’t think it has anything to do with getting more done or working harder or even efficiency, it just seems to be what it is. I do meet people who genuinely feel that what they are doing here is so important that they hurry because they just need to get things done. I guess if i am honest I appreciate a slower pace where things start later and people take the time to say, “hello, how are you?” but to each their own pace and I respect an intentionality of time. Whatever the pace, it needs to be your pace, your walk, and you should own it.

A few years ago i was at a conference in Washington DC for young clergy. On one of the nights they offered a nighttime tour of the capital and they made it sound pretty neat, but for some reason i couldn’t do it. I have been back a number of times and walked all over DC, but never much at night. After a long day of class, a meeting and some phone calls I had some spicy chili and then walked with my friends to get some key lime pie. i haven’t been feeling well, but I felt like after the day I had had (and the pie) I needed a run. I set out at about 1030pm and I finally got my tour of the capital at night. The streets are mostly well lit, but at that time of night they are deserted and it’s like you have the monuments all to your self. There is something pure about it, something beautiful that can get missed in the crowded day time or the endless news cycles filled with all the bickering, posturing, bad mouthing and scandal. At night the city looks like what you hope it can be, like what it is meant to be. The Capital Dome is all aglow rising into the night sky and it exudes a sort of authority. The Smithsonian Castle looms in the dark in contrast to most of the other buildings, but that is perhaps fitting because it is something different and yet it belongs there just as much as anything else. On down is the Washington Monument that great obelisk pointing to the heavens stark white against the black it takes on a monolithic feel at night. To my left the Jefferson monument shines brightly enhanced by the reflection of the water it draws your eye. As I continued to run alongside the reflection pond the lights weren’t working and the night rested there in the long spaces on the way to visit Lincoln. It seemed further than I remembered, and I couldn’t actually see the monument for a long time, but I knew I was going the right way and then bam, there it was. I couldn’t help but run up the steps to say hello to the man who ended slavery, reunified the country and proposed the Methodism should be the national religion (okay so even I admit that the other two are more impressive, but still). The natural history museum, the archives and oh yeah the White House sitting separate and majestic it looks kind of lonely at night and I couldn’t help but think what how fitting that was because no matter who its occupant is the position is a paradox of constantly being surrounded, yet always alone. As my own night tour ended off down a side street to my friends house I am thankful for the privilege of seeing this other side of the capital and grateful for the lasting images that will stay with me.

A few years ago i was at a conference in Washington DC for young clergy. On one of the nights they offered a nighttime tour of the capital and they made it sound pretty neat, but for some reason i couldn’t do it. I have been back a number of times and walked all over DC, but never much at night. After a long day of class, a meeting and some phone calls I had some spicy chili and then walked with my friends to get some key lime pie. i haven’t been feeling well, but I felt like after the day I had had (and the pie) I needed a run. I set out at about 1030pm and I finally got my tour of the capital at night. The streets are mostly well lit, but at that time of night they are deserted and it’s like you have the monuments all to your self. There is something pure about it, something beautiful that can get missed in the crowded day time or the endless news cycles filled with all the bickering, posturing, bad mouthing and scandal. At night the city looks like what you hope it can be, like what it is meant to be. The Capital Dome is all aglow rising into the night sky and it exudes a sort of authority. The Smithsonian Castle looms in the dark in contrast to most of the other buildings, but that is perhaps fitting because it is something different and yet it belongs there just as much as anything else. On down is the Washington Monument that great obelisk pointing to the heavens stark white against the black it takes on a monolithic feel at night. To my left the Jefferson monument shines brightly enhanced by the reflection of the water it draws your eye. As I continued to run alongside the reflection pond the lights weren’t working and the night rested there in the long spaces on the way to visit Lincoln. It seemed further than I remembered, and I couldn’t actually see the monument for a long time, but I knew I was going the right way and then bam, there it was. I couldn’t help but run up the steps to say hello to the man who ended slavery, reunified the country and proposed the Methodism should be the national religion (okay so even I admit that the other two are more impressive, but still). The natural history museum, the archives and oh yeah the White House sitting separate and majestic it looks kind of lonely at night and I couldn’t help but think what how fitting that was because no matter who its occupant is the position is a paradox of constantly being surrounded, yet always alone. As my own night tour ended off down a side street to my friends house I am thankful for the privilege of seeing this other side of the capital and grateful for the lasting images that will stay with me.

If I told you that we were going on a hike in the Issaquah Alps that sounds pretty good by itself, maybe even exotic simply because of the term alps. If I added that we were going to hike Cougar Mountain it sounds even better like some kind of outlaw hideout or danger filled wilderness. Add to that a waterfall and an historic townsite and we’ve got a mystical adventure in an exotic wilderness right? I mean a hike up Cougar Mountain past a historic townsite along a well groomed path through the lush forests of the Issaquah Alps to a cascading waterfall sounds pretty good on a brochure. To be fair we had a great hike, but when you know that Cougar Mountain is more a hill than a mountain, many of the Issaquah Alps have neighborhoods on them, the historic town dam is about four feet high damming a creek, and the waterfall is maybe twenty feet high and five feet wide, the reality doesn’t quite live up to the billing. For the most part I knew what I was getting before I did the hike, but I just kept thinking how everything on paper sounded so good.