“In America, what we call faith is often loud, often exclusionary, sometimes violent and too frequently enamored of shiny, expensive things. […]
You did not hear much about faith last week when Jimmy Carter held a news conference to reveal that he has four spots of cancer on his brain. The 39th president made only a few references to it in the nearly 40 minutes he spoke, and they were all in response to reporter’s questions. Yet, you would be hard-pressed to find a more compelling statement of belief in things not seen. Unsentimental, poised and lit from within by an amazing grace, Carter discussed the fight now looming ahead of him, the radiation treatments he will undergo, the need to finally cut back on his whirlwind schedule.
He smiled often. “I’m perfectly at ease with whatever comes,” he said, in such a way that you believed him without question. […]
The heat and hubris of human life are such that that state is difficult to conceive, much less to reach. Our lives are defined by wanting and by lack — more money, new car, new love — and by the ceaseless hustle to fill empty spaces within. Media and advertising conspire to make you feel ever incomplete. So it is hard to feel whole within yourself, at peace with what is, whatever that turns out to be.
But who, gazing upon the former president, can doubt the result is worth the effort?”
A lazy Labor Day weekend Sunday.
I rise from my second nap of the day.
There are seven library books to return.
So I grab ’em and head for the lagoon.
No birdsong to speak of.
Even the cicadas are keeping it to a dull roar.
I keep an ear out for the bird I’ve been hearing the past couple of weeks that sounds like a monkey.
(That would be the white-breasted nuthatch.)
I don’t even hear that.
I finally catch sight of the great blue heron!
A pair or two of these herons always nest at the lagoon every year.
My summer is never complete until I spot at least one of them.
Now it is.
Walking towards the gazebo/Dream park/shelter part of the park.
A man stands at the lagoon shore talking loudly to himself.
Bluetooth makes it so hard to tell if someone is madly talking to themselves
I don’t look hard enough at him to be able to tell if there’s an earpiece
Else he might think I’m slightly mad.
Then I catch site of a young photographer in a pink shirt.
His camera is on a tripod and pointed out over the lagoon.
I surmise the throng of happy people in the shelter must be wedding guests.
Unlike me he probably was able to photograph the great blue heron.
After dropping the library books off I spot a sign along the sidewalk,
The first in a series of four Burma-Shave style signs:
“So over the years I have been trying to develop a new branch of science, which a friend and I have jocularly called ‘orni-theology,’ or the theology of birds.
[…] Martin Luther in his fine exposition of the Sermon on the Mount, became quite lyrical when he commented on Jesus’ teaching about the birds. He wrote:
You see, he is making the birds our schoolmasters and teachers. It is a great and abiding disgrace to us that in the gospel a helpless sparrow should become a theologian and a preacher to the wisest of men. We have as many teachers and preachers as there are little birds in the air. Their living example is an embarrassment to us… Whenever you listen to a nightingale, therefore, you are listening to an excellent preacher… It is as if he were saying, ‘I prefer to be in the Lord’s kitchen. He has made heaven and earth, and he himself is the cook and the host. Every day he feeds and nourishes innumerable little birds out of his hand.
“The classical Jungian attitude toward the dream is expressed very well by a term I would borrow from existential analysis… This term is to befriend the dream. To participate in it, to enter into its imagery and mood, to want to know more about it, to understand, play with, live with, carry, and become familiar with — as one would do with a friend. As I grow familiar with my dreams I grow familiar with my inner world. Who lives in me? What inscapes are mine? What is recurrent and therefore what keeps coming back to reside in me? These are the animals and people, places and concerns, that want me to pay attention to them, to become friendly and familiar with them. They want to be known as a friend would. They want to be cared for and cared about. This familiarity after some time produces in one a sense of at-homeness and at-oneness with an inner family which is nothing else than kinship and community with oneself, a deep level of what can also be called the blood soul. In other words, the inner connection to the unconscious again leads to a sense of soul, an experience of an inner life, a place where meanings home…
Befriending the dream begins with a plain attempt to listen to the dream, to set down on paper or in a dream diary in its own words just what it says. One takes especial note of the feeling tone of the dream, the mood upon waking, the emotional reactions of the dreamer in the dream, the delight or fear or surprise. Befriending is the feeling approach to the dream, and so on takes care receiving the dream’s feelings, as with a living person with whom we begin a relationship.”
Seven of my eight work hours today were spent in front of four spreadsheets. I designed four dashboards to, well, take the pressure off the four people who will be using them, so they can find the numbers they need more quickly. Plus it’s payday, which took some pressure off too. Appropriately, songs from the upcoming Duran Duran album were the soundtrack for this and it was “Pressure Off” that I played the most. I love that Janelle Monae is one of the vocalists (but she’s not in the above video, alas). I like that this band still has that 1980s energy – oh how I loved their Rio album in high school in the 1980s – and this kept my toes tapping all day today:
It’s up to you now It’s time to take the pressure off
I’m lost, don’t wanna be found
I’m up and not gonna be down
Outside looking in on myself
Just me, I couldn’t be anyone else
Is it bad when you’re feeling this good?
I sure hope not.
Are we all misunderstood?
It’s fine, going out of my mind Going out of my mind, going out of my mind
I was going out of my mind when figuring out how to create an Excel formula to calculate the average of numbers in non-consecutive cells. But not for long, because I asked Google for help and it eventually gave me an answer. Whew.
Swimming with the rat race Or running against the tide It’s everybody’s business when there’s nowhere to hide
Coincidentally this was my first full day in my new desk in our new open layout where there’s nowhere to hide. Yet it was my most productive day in a long time, probably because I was…
Steppin’ Steppin’ Steppin‘
I’m looking forward to when the full album is available on September 11.
Morning drop offs at school can be a bit exasperating at times. However, the next time I’m tempted to get impatient when a parent holds up the line by gazing overly long at their child as the child walks into the building (“Please park and walk your child in!” I always mutter to myself), I will try to keep this in mind:
Martin says she recently heard from a friend in the fashion industry who had taken a rare trip to the Upper East Side. “He saw this phalanx of black Escalades parked three feet deep,” she says, “and these super-fashionable women posing and walking and he was like, ‘Oh, my God, something’s going on at Fashion Week that I don’t know about — what is this?’ It was school drop-off.”
Suddenly our school drop off, with its modest vehicles and lack of fashion and posing, seems very appealing.
“Strangely, we are perhaps most fully incarnated as humans, when part of us does not want to be here, or doesn’t know how to be here. Presence is only fully understood and realized through fully understanding our reluctance to show up. To understand the part of us that wants nothing to do with the full necessities of work, relationship, of doing what is necessary, is to learn humility, to cultivate self-compassion and to sharpen that sense of humor essential to a merciful perspective of both a self and another.
[,,,] Rarely is it good to run, but we are wiser, more present, more mature, more understanding when we realize we can never flee from the need to run away.”
“The path to good work is the path of making our selves visible…
How many times have we kept a hope or dream in abeyance because even thinking about the possibilities of failure were too much to contemplate? If we failed at that central, precious thing that we have always had in reserve for an alternative life, then who would we be? Would there be any one we like left at all? Far better then, not to risk at all, to choose something smaller, to undertake some logistical task we don’t mind getting wrong, something we could recover from, something where we are, in effect, still invisible, to ourselves and to the world. Better to choose a world where things don’t matter. Better not to appear fully on life’s radar screen.
But in taking the path of visibility we arrange for a different kind of disappearance – into the work, the task, the audience, the one who will receive what we have conceived, the life that opens up …making ourselves visible allows us to be found and even invited in by the world we both fear and desire….”