Surrender

Surrender August 25 2010


Surrender, giving up,

Knowing that I can’t succeed,

Eating “ ‘Umble Pie.”

I’ve tried and tried and tried again

To be good – to seek perfection.

I’ve always thought I had to do it all myself,

To make everything work smoothly.

But then the moment’s come

When I’ve known it’s more than I can do.

If I stop the struggle, giving up.

Will I despair, thinking that’s the end?

If so, it won’t work either.

I’ll be overcome by grace, by help, and love.

I’ll be all right.

Why did I struggle so? Why have I fought again and then again?

When will I learn that surrendering my pride --accepting help--

Brings true reward? – That it’s the way my life’s supposed to be?



REFLECTION

I’m still a novice at humility, obviously. Where did I get that idea, that everything is up to me? Is it the legacy of being a conscientious oldest daughter with a sick mother? It’s so easy for me to believe I have to do everything better, faster, and smarter than anyone else. It’s like a mirage in the dessert – totally convincing that it’s real until the moment comes to try to drink from the non-existent oasis. It's a false premise. 

When I subscribe to that illusion of total responsibility for doing things perfectly,  life becomes a struggle. Surrendering this foolish image of myself and accepting that help is always at hand if I just reach out and request it brings such joy and relief. Just because I put things on my own to-do list doesn’t mean there’s any sense to judging myself against that list.

I can think of surrender as groveling in shame because I couldn’t do everything perfectly and on time according to my self-imposed expectations. Within this paradigm, I will be miserable. Or I can conceive of it as joyful acceptance – letting go into the loving help of God, which will bring joy and serenity. Which path do I choose today? And today? And today? -- The choice is always there to make, right now.

Moments

Living in the Moment Aug 23 2010


Each moment brings its own surprises –

Something lost that renders all impossible,

The smile of a friend expressing love,

Someone being where I didn’t plan for him,

A kind gesture offering solace, source of grace,

A mood that dashes hope and happiness and feels like abandonment,

A child’s joyful story-sharing.



I walk along the shore of life --

The beach where memories collect--

Sombered by this flotsam of my expectations of today –

Shattered trash or shiny little treasures strewn about the sands and rocks by

Ever restless minutes -- rushing, waning, changing what they bring and what they take.

The next may bring a new elation --

I leave my expectations open, ready once again to soar.

Reflection

The feelings elicited by the passing moments resemble restless, scudding clouds racing across a clear, sparking sky. An unanticipated distraction means my calendar has disappeared and can’t be found anywhere. I feel lost without knowing what appointments and commitments I’ve made. But then, just seconds later, my day is graced by the love of someone close – a momentary burst of glory, equally unexpected. I go to the DMV office to replace my missing driver’s license, only to find a standing room only crowd with a predicted four hour waiting time when the office will close in three hours. But then my disappointment is countered by a kind official providing me with the information I will need to replace the license online without having to come back and wait another day. A long-anticipated meeting to plan a ceremony produces lingering anxiety and tension, leading to the chance for deeper love and understanding. A day passes like that, intermingling unexpected moments of joy and disappointment. It reminds me of the fascinating mix of objects, covered in left-over foam and sand or interlaced with seaweed and string, that a stroll along the beach provides for careful examination – the yield changing with every tide as the mixture of unexpected experiences morphs with each day and hour. Life is never dull!

Vacation Trip

Re-entry August 23 2010


We travel up, away, into new orbits, new excitement.

Seeing endless promise, new perspectives --

Wonderfully exciting, satisfying,

Like astronauts, we walk in space,

Freed from gravity of duty, schedules, daily chores.

But re-entry looms.

We draw close, approaching splash down,

Then, relinquishing adventure’s quest,

Take back our daily cares,

Re-inhabiting our old small tasks and spaces,

We are, however, changed, enlarged,

Forever liberated just a little ,

Having seen and felt infinity.



Reflection:

Summer is a time to travel, to expand, to rest and feel free. On vacation trips, we try on different realms of life as if traveling to outer galaxies. Nancy and I just returned from a trip to visit family, and discovered an opportunity, in Huntsville, AL, to see a variety of actual space shuttles and to learn about the astronauts’ experiences. The films taken from the Hubble and the spacecraft that traveled to service it were awe-inspiring – a true glimpse of an apparently infinite universe. What a different scale from our normal earthbound perspective! And yet, like the astronauts, though experiencing a few days without the weight of daily schedules and concerns, we soon found ourselves touching down back at home, needing to face again the too-long to-do lists that we’d abandoned for a few days. It’s good to get a reminder occasionally that weightlessness exists, and to learn again to just be, without constantly having to perform and produce.

Cloud Thoughts

Cloud Thoughts July 29 2010


Sky blue pink –

Invented color from a childhood game.

I drive home now under sky blue pink –

The clouds fantastic roads and windows –

Paths for spirits traveling,

Coming here or leaving.

You sit, a coast away,

Keeping vigil in an ICU, your dear friend about to leave.

I wonder if the paths I see are opening for her,

As she takes a bit of you along

On her voyage into Love beyond.



Reflection

Each of us loses someone dear occasionally. But most of the time, the experience is rare enough for each individual that we don’t think so much about the enormous traffic passing constantly between the physical and spiritual realms -- not only people entering or leaving bodies, but also those, both in body and in spirit, who are dreaming, praying, loving, or remembering.

We no longer see with physical eyes those who have left their bodies – as if we were separated from each other by clouds. But clouds only appear solid. In fact, they are airy, porous, immaterial; our impression of them is no more than an illusion.

Seeing a beautiful, colorful sky rich with cloud shapes, as I think about the act of keeping vigil with a loved one nearing her passing, I'm reminded how close the physical and spiritual realms really are. We live a little bit on both sides of the cloud curtain – embodied, absorbed in physical reality, and also imbued with spirit love, united with our loved ones everywhere.

New York Interlude

A New York Visit June 30 - July 4 2010


Compulsive Over-liver? 7/1/2010

I return again to New York City,

As if returning to a well for water.

The City fills all my perceptive powers; It's a pinnacle experience.

Each rushing moment

Teems with sights and sounds,

With tastes, smells, movements,

And also many feelings –

Tenderness, revulsion, raucous laughter, gentle smiles –

Tapestry of all things unexpected.

I sink into this sea of senses, this compelling other world,

Holding breath until I once again come up

To find the peace of spirit’s realm.



Philharmonic Patriotic Concert July 2 2010

A patriotic concert for the Fourth, though not on the Fourth –

Tunes I’ve heard too often and have learned to overlook –

Sousa marches, historic war songs, anthems –

Melodies I’ve heard at picnics and parades, played all off key,

Amateur discordance gathering on the notes like barnacles –

The music suddenly returns to life, delighting all.

The Maestro wields a magic wand –

Conjures up new sound, new soul.

The audience claps and stamps to show delight.

We stand and roar our thanks,

Then leave, smiling and chatting – new found friends

Who’ve shared a magic moment and together carry forth new memories.



Throngs July 3 2010

A holiday Saturday at the Met –

The halls are full, the lines are long,

I wait to step up closer to the art, as others stand and look.

There are throngs of us – And also throngs of them:

The ones who posed, who painted, who wielded tongs and chisels,

And also  those who owned each platter, gem, and weapon –

And those who cleaned and dusted them as well.

They’ve all left energy within the objects ranked together now,

Hung on walls or ordered in glass cases.

Their souls are still imprinted on the statues, mummies, bas reliefs, and sacramental objects.

The entire world is here -- from antiquity to now, across the globe.

How do we mortals find room to roam among them all?



Pilgrimage to Beauty July 3 2010

I’m one of many pilgrims from across the earth.

We speak in many tongues,

Our Babel a vast symphony of humanness.

We follow crisscrossed paths to see exhibits –

Young and old, hale and lame,

Our measured- out museum steps an indoor pilgrimage to Beauty’s shrine.



Tableau Vivant July 3 2010

She sits on a wooden crate, the slim tree shading her –

A city tree, surrounded by its iron fence.

Her face is hidden by the dark blue baseball cap.

My eye drifts from her giant bosom down her dark-skinned legs, to flip flops on her shapeless feet.

Seated primly next to her – one on either side –

Two poodles listen raptly to her animated monologue --

She and they alone share a tiny world

Though people pass them constantly.

They’re beautiful -- faithful friends, tableau vivant of love.



REFLECTION

Needing respite from the endless noise, dust, and inconvenience of remodeling, I flew to New York for a few days. The holiday weekend was coming up, and I was feeling burned out, scattered, and a bit lonesome.

On a summer holiday weekend, large numbers of city people flee to the country. The city is calmer than usual, except in tourist spots like the Metropolitan Museum, which is, in contrast to the streets and subways, bursting with humanity. These days, New York tourists are more likely to be from Seoul or Siam, Finland or Yugoslavia than from Kansas or Saskatchewan. The Metropolitan crowd was multi-hued, multi-cultural, multi-lingual – a microcosm of the world.

I found myself musing about why New York has become my favorite place to find renewal. It’s a place where I’m blessed to have dear friends. It’s also a place to experience contrasts, to know the euphoria of adrenaline, to stretch my definition of reality, to encounter surprise and drama, to find an enormous variety of sensory experiences and human encounters. Each meal is surprising, whether it be a Nathan’s hot dog or an exquisitely prepared sampler of Vietnamese delicacies. In a great city at the level of New York, the experience of being human is deepened – intensified and mirrored in countless ways. It’s absorbing and edgy, requiring intense, aware response at all moments. One can’t even cross a street distractedly, and survive.

I’ll return home tomorrow with my sensory meters reset, happy to step back again into daily routine, to find quiet moments to fulfill responsibilities, and to enjoy deeply the opportunity to love and be loved by those close to me. My New York moments of intense experiences will remain, though, the memory of their pungent flavors and distinctive sights and sounds continuing to provide the perspective needed to appreciate the quotidian.

Cooking Beans

Cooking Beans June 19 2010


The humble daily tasks --

I shun them often.

They take up time –they make me stop and wait.

I smell the snap beans steaming as I sit and write.

Snap. Snap. Patiently I broke both ends of all the beans, and put them in the pot to cook –

A measured job that took the time it took

And let me rest and know the boundless nature of the present –

Unexpected gift from summer’s bounty.



Reflection

Cleaning, cooking, caring for people and humble objects. I’ve always been impatient with these tasks. They weren’t stimulating, had no glory attached. I clung to my ambitions, to my love for feeling special and powerful. These were jobs for humble people – jobs that needed doing over and over, leaving no mark on history. I longed to do the impressive things!

Somehow, though, my passage through the loss of the person closest to me, my partner Ellen, opened my spirit to the beauty and resonance of those humble tasks. From her I learned that my time on earth is a precious treasure, and that the rewards come from being fully present to the physical impressions and the present moments that wash over me – a cascade of sensory wealth through which I can know the Creator through the created. In performing these lowly tasks to perfection, I both receive and express love. What other meaning is there to Heaven than loving, being loved, and experiencing the Divine? I am grateful for that mess of snap beans and for all of summer’s gifts.

I Love You

I Love You May 29 2010


Three little words – I love you! I love you! I love you!

They are the most important words – no need to improvise, create.

They can’t be said too often,

And each time they’re said, they’re new – never repeating what was said before.

They reflect the feeling of this moment –

I love your crinkly smile, your ready wit, the sparkle in your eyes,

Your gentleness and kindness, the beauty of your soul…

I love you in an endless wealth of ways –

Always newly known and deeply felt.

I love you! I love you! I love you! -- now, again, forever.



Reflection

Love is such a joy! Each person -- each creature-- is a spark of God – reflecting in ways we can appreciate different aspects of the infinite Creator. I can think of no better way to spend a day than to revel repeatedly in the joy of loving, and – like a carillon chime – to peal forth our joy in those three important words – I love you!