Image(s)

Leaning my head against the train window,
closing my eyes to try and get a short nap,
the morning sun and shadow flicker violently against my eyelids
and I remember why I hate riding on this side of the train.


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Driving to catch the 7:46 I project my own desire
for quiet time with God on the man in a suit with a pepper beard,
floating through the mist, wearing a Taqiyah and weaving
his prayer beads around his wrists and hands.

Water'd heaven with their tears

I do not understand much of anything in this world. And I can't even begin to understand the madness and evil that led the despicable act in Connecticut today. It's clear this world so unsafe and dreadful at times. I don't get it. I know there is hope. I believe in the hope found in Christ. I still can't make sense of this insanity, though.

For some reason it all made me think of the mad man, poet, philosopher, prophet, artist, and visionary, William Blake. He seemed to see paradoxes in the world pretty clearly. Some would say he was nuts. Maybe that's the same thing.

At any rate, here are a few of his poems that echo some of my feelings on the event.

Holy Thursday

Is this a holy thing to see In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reduced to misery Fed with cold and usurous hand? Is that trembling cry a song? Can it be a song of joy? And so many children poor? It is a land of poverty! And their sun does never shine. And their fields are bleak & bare. And their ways are fill'd with thorns. It is eternal winter there. For where-e’er the sun does shine, And where-e’er the rain does fall: Babe can never hunger there, Nor poverty the mind appall. The Lamb Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee, Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Little lamb, I'll tell thee; Little lamb, I'll tell thee: He is called by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild, He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are called by His name. Little lamb, God bless thee! Little lamb, God bless thee! The Tyger Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare sieze the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Explanation

So this is my first blog post since November 20. I'll be honest, I'm on hiatus. At least I hope it's a hiatus. I have no plans for this silence to be permanent. I'm just, well, mentally tired. And a bit overwhelmed. I enjoyed writing every day, but it was not easy. It was hard to think of something to write about every day for forty days. It's one thing to write something whenever you feel like, but writing every day is a bit like exercise. Well, it's a lot like exercise. So, right now I'm reading, thinking, praying listening to new music and playing games. Seriously, I got some gift money and gift cards for my birthday, so I downloaded some new iPad games and some music as well.

I will be back. Really. I will. Don't give me that look.

I saw that.

What She Said

Great author and blogger, Rachel Held Evans, wrote an excellent post about the same issue I discussed in my "I Told You So" post. I highly recommend you read this article, especially before you sit down with family and friends for Thanksgiving meals that could involve political discussions.

Here are a few quotes from the post:

This, I believe, is the real evangelical disaster—not that Barack Obama is president and Mitt Romney is not, but that evangelicalism has gotten so enmeshed with politics, its success or failure can be gauged by an election.

Beautifully written:

And no matter what happens in the halls of power, we will never be part of a disaster. Instead, we will be part of a stubborn and relentless movement of hope—the kind of hope that can heal the world.

Check out the rest of the article here. She has a great blog I don't read often enough.

40

Somehow I made it to 40. I suppose it's not really that big of a deal. But then again, considering a few of my near misses, well, I am immeasurably grateful. And those are just the near misses I'm aware of. Who knows how many times God has saved my hide while I was just daydreaming.

I guess that's part of my first forty years. Daydreaming. Sure, I feel like I've done a fair bit of things, but I felt like I was biding my time, waiting for the arrival of some one or some thing. If you read books on being single, a lot of them tell you to not spend too much time trying to find someone. Enjoy life. Live life. Use the time wisely. These books tell you not just to sit around and wait for someone.

That's relatively easy to do from around 21 to 30ish, but after that, you are as anxious about finding someone as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Sure, you may lick your paws and butt, fall asleep, and pretend nothing is bothering you, but somewhere in your mind and heart you know the score.

But there is wisdom in not waiting. By that I mean, do life. Get involved in your church or religious community. Travel. Enjoy your friendships. Enjoy your family. Be a great uncle or aunt. Just don't sit and watch the clock. Another benefit of getting involved is that you have more opportunities to meet people at said volunteer events. That tip is free of charge.

And one thing I've learned or at least I'm still learning is that most of life is not lived in the huge or dramatic events. There's a lot of sitting and waiting. There are a lot of mundane things that are just a part of life. At least it's a part of our lives in prosperity. I have read books and essays about my favorite writers, poets, film makers, and others, and you never read the boring bits. You never read about them cleaning gutters, raking leaves, or getting the oil changed. Between the major events in your life, there's usually quite a bit of time. It's all about what do you do with that time. 

I used to keep this framed letter from the Lloyd's Bank of London about my favorite poet, T.S. Eliot. While I was visiting London, I tried to visit some of the T.S. Eliot sites. He worked at Lloyd's Bank for around 8 years before becoming an editor at Faber and Faber. 

A nice lady at the bank took time to meet and talk with me about Eliot's time at the bank. She then gave me a letter that had information about his time at the bank as well. I had it framed. I used to keep it up in my cube at work. It was intended to be an inspiration to get out of my career as a tech writer. That I wasn't going to be "stuck" there forever in software. 

And later, as my first year as a writer turned into five years, it became a source of pain. It was like a magnifying mirror that brought out all the areas where I felt I had failed so far. The poems I couldn't get published. The Master's thesis I never completed. My endless attempts to reboot my writing life. I started to dislike the letter and what it represented. 

Over a decade later, I stopped putting the letter up in my cube. I had taken a position with another company. I started getting involved in my local church. I started volunteering for care giving ministries. And I started to develop meaningful relationships with people again.  I kept journalling infrequently, but it was something. Writing began to be about more than honing my skills for a career. I wanted to keep a record of life events, things I'd read, lines of poetry, books, scripture and dialogue from movies. It was a way to keep that poetic spirit alive in my soul. 

I don't know if it's accurate to say I abandoned my dream of being a poet or novelist. In fact, if I were entirely honest, I would have to admit I still hold onto that hope. And yeah, I still daydream. 

So, what's my point? Well, my point is not really about my writing career. 

My point is that I really began to live life when I stopped focusing on where I wasn't and focused on where I am. I put down the telescope and focused on what is in front of me. I'm learning to live in the now. And it feels so good. Most of the time. Sure, there are disappointments. I do still feel the sting of dreams or hopes never achieved. Those original hopes and dreams fade away like precious silver coins dropped in the ocean. I mourn for them as they disappear into the murky blue. But then I remember I'm not tethered to that coin like a millstone. In fact, most of the time I drop the coin because I'm delightfully distracted by a new hope or dream that floats to the surface. And sometimes they are the same dreams I dropped before, but they come back with greater clarity and resplendence.

At least most days I feel like that. There are evenings when my wife and I are sitting on the couch and I will tell her this amazing idea for a story or novel. She will sit patiently and listen and encourage me. And there are days when I don't feel like a good fit for my job at all. And I think, what am I doing here? Am I living too safely? Should I be daring, quit my job and start writing a novel? 

And then I think of the Quaker proverb: Proceed as the way opens. It means to undertake a service or course of action without prior clarity about all the details but with confidence that divine guidance will make these apparent and assure an appropriate outcome. To me this implies that we don't need all the details about our future to make those steps forward, but we can move in a certain direction with confidence that the way will open if God intends for it to.  

So I will proceed as the way opens. I try to hold onto my hopes and dreams lightly. I try to keep daydreaming because it's just so much fun. But I also know I have to wake up and go to work.