This Friday

Air Quality: Poor 

Commute home up 880 North: Poorer  (Yes, Google Maps said to take 101 N to to 92 but I really wanted to see the white pelicans that one can often see from the Dumbarton Bridge.)  "What is an extra 4 minutes?" I asked. Well, not much until you add a car wreck and a stalled truck that overheated in the backup.  

Yet, to lead worship in a memory care home that I have not been able to visit in person since the pandemic began and to witness three residents who were sitting together on a couch smiling and singing so sweetly, and to almost be able to hug staff members whom I have loved and admired for years and I cannot tell you how happy I am that they are still there, was beyond wonderful.  A strange sentence I know, but there was such a crescendo of emotion and experience that periods just get in  the way. 

The pianist and I happened to walk in together, and we talked about how strange it felt to resume after we had been away for what seemed so long. I commented that I even had trouble remembering what exit to take.  I almost left the song sheets in the car. 

We floated out together.  She smiled and said, "This."

Yes.      

 

photograph: San Leandro, August 2021

Revisiting

I am reading Jesus, the Teacher Within by Laurence Freeman for the second time.  I bought the book used some years ago, and I loved it then, and I am finding it a rich offering now as well. It is interesting to see the highlights and comments left by the first owner, the marks I left from the first reading, and what is catching my attention now.  

I do not remember reading these two lines attributed to St. Augustine, but I find myself returning to them, and they showed up in my preaching on Sunday. I feel a soul shift and a clearing.  Please excuse the masculine language. Centuries have passed since St. Augustine wrote these lines: 

A person first be restored to himself, that making of himself 

as it were a stepping stone, he may rise thence to God.  

 

I am finding that thinking of my life as a series of stepping stones to God is both illuminating and encouraging, and is helping me regain some footing as I journey through the last third of my physical life.  I think we all go through periods of being repurposed.  Such times can bring us unease, even a sense of failure.  However, if we think of these times of redirection as stepping stones, hopefully we can then move in the direction where we feel called with confidence, a confidence rooted in the trust that we are being led ever closer to God.      

  

   

photograph: August, 2021, San Leandro

Hope

 "Hope is the aspiration to be totally at home. It is the strongest aspiration of our being. The word virtue means 'strength'. The virtue of hope is a strength of spirit. But to be virtuous does not mean only to do the right things and be a respectable person. To be virtuous means to be strong in the Spirit, to have accepted the gift of the Spirit's strength." *  

  

Although I have read all 159 pages of the book, The Selfless Self, I think it is a book that I will never conclude. Reading it has deepened my meditation practice, and my meditation practice touches every aspect of my life. In addition, meditating reminds me that we are eternally held in love. This is a gift I gratefully accept.  

 

The Selfless Self, Laurence Freeman, OSB, p. 152 

photograph: San Leandro, August 2016  

Befriending the Lion

 Last night I dreamed that Tyler and I were visited by a lion.  In the dream we are living in our second apartment we rented decades ago, an apartment I liked very much.  In the dream I open the door and in walked a male lion with a full mane. He evidently had been waiting patiently for me to open the door. Yes, I was startled. He went directly to Tyler who was sitting at his computer in a room down the hall. The lion, despite his size,  jumped on his shoulders, not as a fierce predator, but  like a house cat wanting some attention.  The dream was actually very quiet. There was no screaming or roaring.  The lion moved beautifully with ease and purpose, and no hesitation whatsoever.  He knew why he was there. 

In June of 2019 I dreamed of a lion that was following me as I walked my dog along a path. In that dream I am terrified, but the lion simply followed us.  No, I never did grow comfortable with that lion's presence. Today, I feel gratitude that the lion has surfaced once more. What is his message?  Well, I was so surprised, I forgot to ask. I think it takes a while to become accustomed to a lion in one's life. What was particularly startling about my 2019 dream is that the following morning an image of Rousseau's "Sleeping Gypsy" surfaced  in my Facebook feed.  I have always loved this painting. I include my reflection from  2019. I had forgotten about the playful fawns darting in and out of the tall grass. Because I am no longer worrying about them, I can simply enjoy their playful presence on the journey.      

Today Tyler and I are stepping away and taking Jack for a walk.  It really is time to open the door. 

 

Last night I dreamed: 

A lion was walking 

along a dirt road 

that ran along a freeway.  

I wanted to walk that 

path but I was full of fear 

for myself, 

my dog, 

and the small fawns 

darting in and out 

of the bushes

in play. 

I thought, 

"Surely this lion 

is from a zoo. 

We do not have lions 

like this around here."

 

So afraid! 

Yet, he never roared 

and he never chased. 

He simply continued to walk 

that dusty path 

which I suddenly 

could not trust.   

  

This morning, 

when I had forgotten 

the dream, 

this image came. 

 

I must learn to trust 

the lion,

 the art, 

the dream;

most of all 

the dusty road 

where one meets 

Christ

 in all sorts of guises 

trying to nudge us

awake.       

    

image:  Wikiart