Inflexible

Inflexible

Inflexible it may seem

My life, a scheduled plan

I want to have the same routine

To know what I’ll do next

 

It makes me calm to think

That there is a time for this

And a time for that

With everything in its place

 

But, then something happens

My time somewhere else is needed

So my plans must change

As the unknown I’ll follow

 

Inflexible, they label me

A rigid man they say

Yet somehow I get things done

Somehow I find a way

 

Inflexible is what I like

It is my solace, my comfort

But it is not as it always seems

I can be open for those I love.

 

Short notice

This is what happened. I just returned from a vacation, and immediately got a call to go to work—in one hour. I hate short notice. For I had plans, I had things that I wanted to do: to write, to read, to think. . . But those will have to wait. Plans have been thwarted.

That is how life is. I am usually lucky in that I do not have such short notice. But it can occur.

There are people who are constantly interrupted, whose job seems to entail a series of short notices. Some of these are parents—for kids are always interrupting with some emergency or problem—doctors, especially those in a hospital where an emergency may occur at any moment— police and fire fighters who never receive notice. They always must be ready at a moment’s notice. . .

Semper Paratus is the Coast Guard motto. It means “always ready”. That is a good description of them. Something happens, a call is made, and off they go to rescue or search.

I am not naturally inclined to that. I like things planned, methodical and researched. Yet sometimes I feel the inclination to just go—to be spontaneous. But usuallythis is short-lived. I generally like my schedule.

So, off I go to work. It’ll be ok. I tend to over think, anyway. Now I can avoid that. I only have time to react. It may be better that way.

What now?

 

What now?

A few weeks ago a large number of gays at a nightclub were killed. The nation felt sorrow and sadness. Many went to church and prayed.  Last week five police officers were assassinated in Dallas. The nation felt profound sorrow and sadness. Many went to church and prayed.

It seems as a vicious cycle . . . watch, pray, repeat.

Eventually though we stop, for something else has gotten our attention. Life intrudes. This is part of humanity. We are a temporal people, who rarely find permanence. So we race to the nearest shiny object, yet upon seeing another, move on.

Across the nation passion still ignites. People protest and move into opposing camps, with each side claiming that they have the moral imperative, implying that God is on their side.

Everyone seems to want things to change. Some urge us, as a nation to move forward with acts of civil disobedience like shutting down roads, or picketing in front of the police headquarters. Others however simply want a return to peace and stability.

This is not new. This nation has gone through such strife before and will in the future. But the issue remains, should we become activists and work on changing the world, or resign ourselves to the fact that despite what we do—or say—little changes?

I am reminded of the Old Testament passage “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity”. In the end, everything we do remains inchoate. Looking at the long view of history, we see strife and resolve, peace and war, openness towards strangers and xenophobic retreat. Perhaps this is why some people become pessimistic and depressed, for they realize that human agency is very fleeting.

 So, what do we do?

We need to remember that our purpose is to live and love. God is the one doing all the work. Yes, we can strive to make the world better—and should. But like a house built on sand, it will soon be washed away, for it is not our doing.

God does not really need us. God can find someone else, or some other way.  That is what the divine does.

Yet this is not a "cop out". We have our job, for it is not what we do, but how we live—full of thankfulness, joy, and humility. Our lives are mostly mundane. We work. We eat. We sleep. But we also, befriend, help and support.

God does not need us—but God does want us. It is like a little kid who hands his father the tools while dad fixes the car. Dad could do it himself, but he wanted his child to assist and to learn.

Peace.

 

 

Self Doubt

People say that having Self Doubt is not good.

But, what do I do with Self Doubt?

Is there someplace where I can put it, so that it leaves me alone?

If I replace it, will Arrogance or Pridefulness move in?

 

If I get rid of Self Doubt . . . can I be “true to myself”?

Sometimes it is good to doubt oneself. . .

I doubt that I will survive if I jump off a tall building.

I better not try.

 

To know what one cannot do,

Is as important as knowing what I can do.

Is that Self Doubt?

Is that Reality?

 

I do not know.

But, do I need to know.

Can I live with doubt?

Can it be my friend?

 

If I make Self Doubt my friend, and let it speak

Do I have to follow its advice?

Can I tell it to “shut up” ?

Can I make it go away?

 

I doubt that I can ever leave Self Doubt behind

I doubt that I move beyond it

It is a part of me, but just a part

Hope surpasses it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfair

 

 

I wondered why life is unfair

I knew that it was

I knew that it always had been

But, why must it be unfair against me?

Why not in my favor?

 

I asked the mountain

But the mountain would not say

I did not think that it would

 

I looked at the sky

It was dark and empty

There was nothing in the air

 

Nearby a city glows

People run to and fro

And, here I stay, alone.

 

“It’s unfair!” I stammer

I yell. But, no one hears

“Why is it unfair?”

I scream at the dark.

 

The dark tells me to wait

Soon it disappears. Light forms

A cool breeze blows

Is this unfair?

 

The birds sing while the sun shines

I have coffee

I have food

I am alive

Yes, it’s unfair. But it’s okay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scars upon the land

More scars upon the land: a tradeoff

In the 1980s the heavy metal band, Cinderella performed a ballad entitled “(you) don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone”.  They were talking about a jilted love affair.

That phrase has stayed with me—as have lots of phrases from music—it is amazing how many good sayings have come from songs, but that is another topic. So, today as I was traveling to the store, I noticed that an old farm was in the process of becoming a suburban neighborhood. Trees had been cleared, and the undulating ground straightened, leaving only a flat open field. New traffic lights had been installed, and a new sign, with a cute little girl beckoning prospective residents to consider moving into a new subdivision—with all the modern conveniences.

I used to enjoy driving along that patch of road. There was wildness to it, for though we live on the edge of a burgeoning city, this area has a small town, even bucolic feel about it. Cattle still graze nearby. Along the drive, one could see wildflowers, hear and sometimes see birds, and feel at peace.  It was a happy route.

I get it. We live in one of the fastest growing areas of our state. My wife and I have noticed that traffic has become much more of a problem since we moved here over a decade ago. People need somewhere to live. Property values are high, so relief, by way of more construction would be a benefit.

John Denver in his song “Rocky Mountain High”, penned the line, “more people, more scars upon the land”. His was an anthem for environmentalism.  For him the building of roads, stores, houses and everything else were “scars”.

I see his point. I wish that they would stop. Preserve the land! It is not enough that more people are moving into this formerly bucolic area, but that they are not arriving as simple pioneers. Rather they want all the conveniences of modern life. So instead of a modest home, for people who are looking to start a family, the new construction is aimed at jet-setters and the “nouveau riche”. Upper middle class mansions with well maintained lawns are what most seem to want.

Preserving the land appears to have taken a back seat to commercialization. But does it have to be?

People move here in part because of the beauty and climate. Many long term residents want to restrict newcomers, for they are concerned about losing some of the beauty and simplicity.

In America this problem seems to be more acute. In other world cites, the city proper is quite dense. But soon one can be in the more sparsely populated regions. Sure urban sprawl exists everywhere, but in this country, the idea seems to be unfortunately, to build more and bigger.

I hope that all of the trees are not cut. That some of the land remains uncommercialized.  We need to preserve and maintain what we have, for as the lyric reads “you don’t know what you’ve got, ‘til it’s gone.”

 

 

 

Unwashed feet

Unwashed feet all around with

Uncombed hair all covered in sweat as

Grimy hands reach into the air

 

Lo, into the air, those grimy hands reach

Above the uncombed hair and the unwashed feet

Of happy tired children who, in warm sunshine played

 

In warm sunshine they played, all glad-hearted and free

Running, singing, chasing and dancing

Free to be children, far from their city’s gloom

 

Far from the city’s gloom, now into a circle they gather

Though hot, thirsty and tired

Ready to leave, yet one task remains

 

See, one task remains as arms reach to sky

“Praise God”, the adult leader speaks and

Just for a moment all become still

 

All become still, for a prayer has begun

Thanking their God for the warm happy sun

That allowed them to be just kids for a day.