Conversing with a Neighbor

Today I saw a neighbor walking his dog.  

I do not see him often; usually his wife 

is out with the beloved creature.  

She and I will wave and say hello.  

However, when I greet 

the husband, as I did today, 

he looks at me and keeps walking.  

Just like he did today.   

Next time I see him, probably not very soon,

I will simply pause and 

look at him.  Perhaps then when 

he walks away, he will think, 

"Ah, now that was a good conversation."   

   

photograph:  

San Leandro, Feb. 29, 2020   

  

A Lenten Primer

I love the phrase, "beautiful boundaries."  Too often, our boundaries frustrate us because we misunderstand the deep meaning of freedom.  The freedom that God offers us is the freedom to simply be.  Our quest to do everything is not freedom, but rather the opposite.  Ultimately, we find ourselves bound too tightly by our ego's hunger, with no room for love.  Lent allows us to practice releasing what is keeping us from a fuller life in God, and hopefully this is not just a once a year project.  God calls us to be who we are, where we are.  A potter cannot create something beautiful and meaningful when the clay keeps jumping around the room.  The vessel will never hold.     

"We can't do everything. In our fast-paced, technology-driven, hyper-connected times, it's increasingly apparent that we can't do everything that comes our way, even if it appeals to us. There is simply too much. We must become 'masters of determination' who skillfully wield the inner sword of discernment to cut away non-essentials in order to focus on essentials. As we live full lives, it's easy to say yes to too many opportunities and not make appropriate boundaries.  Pretty soon our lives are full, but not necessarily full of what truly matters to us. Truly fulfilled living requires us to continually and clearly discern our 'yes' and our 'no' - the beautiful boundaries that support focusing on what is ours to do and letting go of what is not."   

Ellen Grace O'Brian, The Jewel of Abundance, Finding Prosperity through the Ancient Wisdom of Yoga

  

"Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no."    

Jesus, Matthew 5:37

  

photograph:  San Leandro, February 2020   

 

M.'s Miracle

I said good morning to M. and asked if he would like a song sheet.  He gently answered, "No thank you. I no longer read. My eyesight is too poor."  His appearance is of a quiet, composed man.  I asked him if he liked hymns, and he replied that yes, he did find some of them quite beautiful.  I told him that he would probably be familiar with what we would be singing and that I was glad he was with us.  

Afterwards, as I was collecting the sheets and talking with some of those gathered around us, I asked M. if he knew the hymns we sang.  He replied that yes, he knew most.  He looked at me and asked, "Do you believe in miracles?"  I love that question because it opens the gate to what is usually an intriguing conversation.  

"On, yes," I answered.  "Do you?"   

He quietly asked if he could tell me a story.  When he was a young man he spent three years stationed in the Arctic.  "This was back in the time of the Cold War and we were wary of what the Russians might be up to. One day I went out to check on some equipment.  I made the mistake of turning off the vehicle which we were not supposed to do.  When I returned to it, it would not start, so I needed to walk back to where we were staying.  As I walked, I looked behind me to my left. I saw a wolf.  I then looked behind me to the right, and saw two more.  Well, there was nothing to do but to keep walking.  Running seemed foolish and there was no place to hide.  I walked on, convinced that my life was over.  Yet, to my surprise, I arrived safely at my door.  I looked around again, and there was not a wolf in sight. I believe that was a miracle.  God was with me."      

If I could paint, I would paint an image of a man walking through snow and ice accompanied by curious wolves.  Our interpretations of miracles vary.  Yet, anytime we learn to calmly walk with our fears seems to me to be the biggest miracle of all.  When we completely accept where we are, then there is room for God.  Even in the vastness of the Arctic, we must make room.  

 

I look forward to hearing more of M.'s miracles. 

  

photograph:  San Leandro, February 2020

Here We Are

In her book, The Jewel of Abundance, Ellen Grace O'Brian tells this story of being delayed in an airport.  She was, of course, weary.  She said aloud to her teacher who was travelling with her,  "I hate waiting in airports."  Her teacher responded, "The way I see it, we always have to be somewhere."    

   

May we sense Christ with us today, wherever we may be. Let us open our hearts to that healing presence. 

    

    

photograph:  San Leandro, January 2020

--

A Good Long Walk with the Dog

Spring is announcing, "I am again sending my little ones to remind you that if they have the courage to live, so should you.  Bloom in this time."   

   

   

       

  

   

photographs: San Leandro, February 2020