Looking Forward; Looking Back

The lay speaker at church yesterday did a rather interesting thing. He used texts from Genesis and Luke, texts describing the death of Lot's wife (because she looked back) and Jesus' reflections on what happens when we look back rather than forward. The church we attended was in the middle of a pastoral change; the old pastor had departed and the new one had not yet arrived. The people were uncertain about what the future would bring and he was encouraging them not to look back on what had been done but to look forward toward what could be done.

We are designed to look forward; after all, our eyes are in the front of our heads, not the back. When we do not look where we are going, we stand a chance of falling, running into things, or simply grinding to a stop. I am older today than I was yesterday; I am moving forward, and there is nothing I can do about it! It is true that we build the present and the future on the experiences of the past, but we do not need to be stuck there. We make mistakes, for we are human, but we can build on those mistakes if we continue always to move forward.

The problem comes when the past becomes our focus. We age and move forward in one sense, but in another sense, we simply stagnate. Jesus speaks often of living water, and living water is water that moves. Water that sits eventually dies.

They say that the optimist is the one who looks forward and the pessimist is the one who looks backward. I have to admit, in the language of "South Pacific," that I am a "cockeyed optimist." The future is a great adventure, an adventure that will never end. In the Twelve Step recovery program, we often say that we do not regret the past, but we also do not shut the door on it. Remembering what has happened to me does not constitute looking backward! Those experiences are the foundation on which God has helped me to build a wonderful life!

So on I go! Onward and upward, my eyes always on the prize! May that never change!!

On Holy Ground

We are camped tonight at Sheridan, Wyoming, in the heart of the land for which the Sioux, Arapahoe, and Cheyenne fought so hard a bit more than a century ago. It was their hunting grounds, a land rich with game which made survival a little bit easier. It was a place they wanted to live out their lives undisturbed.
But there was another people who wanted this land as well, a people thirsting for gold and for a land they could help them not only to survive but to build a new life. When these cultures collided, men, women, and children died. One hundred twenty-four years ago today, George Armstrong Custer led the 7th Cavalry into the valley of the Little Bighorn River. None came out, for there were 2000 Sioux in that valley, 2000 Sioux with their backs to the wall. It is variously called a battle, a massacre, a "Last Stand", but to me it was a collision of cultures. There was right and wrong on both sides, but still men died. That is the story of war; it is always a collision of ideas and cultural thinking.
Although we chose not to visit Little Bighorn today, I still feel as though I am walking on holy ground. My ancestors are Blackfoot and Oklahoma Cherokee (or maybe Choctaw, no one is sure) and they were not here, but I still feel a personal sense of the sacred when I set foot on these blood-soaked plains. Was that day a day like today, a day of azure sky filled with high clouds, a day of green velvet hills? Was it a warm day, a day in which unshaded heat could press one down into the ground? I have read the story of that day and must read it again, for I cannot remember.
But I am walking on holy ground. While I believe that all of the earth is holy, those places where men, women, and children are willing to lay down their lives are the most holy of all. Rest in peace, men of the 7th; rest in peace, men of the Sioux nation; rest in peace all you innocents who were caught up in this struggle for this place; rest in peace, for you lie in holy ground.

The Chaos of Life

We are hanging out in the Olympia, Washington, area right now---I love western Washington! When I joined the army in 1974, my goal was to be stationed at Fort Lewis. While that never happened, I still have a spot in my heart for this beautiful green country! I like green; it is a color which soothes my spirit, and western Washington is green!! I can look out the window of the home where we are staying and look squarely into a forest, complete with all the critters that live in most forests! When evening comes, they come out onto the lawn and put on a little show for me!
But that is not all there is. Yesterday, we stepped out of the natural wilderness and into an urban wilderness---the Pike Place Market in Seattle! I had always wanted to see that place, and I was not disappointed. What is disappointing is trying to put the experience into words. Pike Place is not just a place where pictures tell the story. It is a chaos of smells, sights, and sounds. To speak of one part of it at the exclusion of the other two is to cheapen the experience. Flowers and fish, coffee and incense, cinnamon rolls and French fries---all mixed up together in the noise of language, cars, and street musicians. I liked it!
So much of life is that same mixture. I see things and become so enamored with what I see that I forget to smell or listen, or else I lose the vision in the focus on the noise. So often I am looking and forget to touch, or else I touch and forget to smell. Life is a mixture which challenges all the senses, and I need to remember to let each of my them do their job so that my experience might be complete, whether I am in the woods or in the middle of the city. There is an element of chaos to the mixture, for there is a lot happening at once, just like Pike Place, but the chaos is what provides the energy that makes the experience worthwhile. I think part of the problem today is that people have compartmentalized the chaos of life and their experiences are incomplete.
Our forefathers and mothers expereienced life completely---their lives depended on it. I want to learn once again, for I believe my spiritual life and well being rather depends on it!

A New Set of Eyes

Last week, I got a new pair of swimming goggles. That may not sound like much except that these goggles have a minus 9 magnification, which means that I can see clearly underwater. While I wear my glasses to see clearly on land, I have never been able to see clearly under water; it was all a giant blur. Some parts of the blur were light colored while others were dark. Some parts of the blur moved while others were still. It was no fun to swim in a crowded place because I kept crashing into other people! Living in this world of blurred reality, I had just assumed that everyone had blurry vision when under water. It took a camera, like those used in the Olympic games to make things clear there.
But then my friend Helen told me about her goggles. She let me look through them and I discovered to my amazement that I could see as clearly as if I was wearing my glasses. I ordered a pair which arrived last Tuesday. When I put them on and put my face in the water, I was absolutely astounded! It was magically clear---the tiles on the pool floor, my fellow swimmers, the bubbles formed when my hand swept through the water. I could see from one end of the pool to another, read the big swimmer's clock on the wall, and most importantly, I could see other swimmers before I crashed into them or they crashed into me. It was a brand new world! Because I can see, I am safer, and because I can see the clock, I am now lore efficient in my swimming.
I have now gone swimming three times with my new eyes, and I am still amazed by what I can see. Light plays on the water in wonderful ways. Some of the other swimmers are exquisitely beautiful as they swim, while others are just plain having fun. There are all sorts of tiles on the pool bottom and I can study the mural on the pool wall as I swim. It is still magic.
I think we sometimes need to be handed a new pair of eyes while on land, even when we think everything is all right. I was given a new pair as I was recovering from my brush with death in April. I am conscious of seeing new things even as I am seeing old things in new ways. I don't seem to be crashing into things quite so often anymore. I am not as tense as I used to be because I don't have to worry about what might hit me when I am not looking. Life is more beautiful, I am more efficient, and I am relaxed enough to see it, and that is enough!
Now if it was just a day where I could be swimming.......

Returning to Life

I was complimenting my niece on her blog this morning and was reminded that it had been a while since I came calling here. I did not realize it had been six months until I tracked down my password and checked things out! I did not intend things to go so long, but a lot has happened in those days, so I feel I have some excellent excuses! It is not that this place slipped my mind, for I have thought of it often, but somehow I could not convert the thoughts into actions. I do that a lot too!!
I live in a place which has rainy winters and dry summers and we seem to be trapped in the winter which will not end! It is still raining, and the six inches of rain received this June has shattered the records for rainfall for the entire month! I am beginning to join the rest of the town in grumping about the rain and the clouds, but there has been a wonderful side effect to all the rain. Everything is green, whether it is naturally green or green because of the layers of moss! And it is not just green, it is a hundred shades of green, from the light green of new growth to the deep rich green of the pines and the redwoods. It is a glorious time to be outside because mixed in with the greens are a million shades of pink, yellow, and red, for the rain is also producing flowers!!
I have always loved green, but this year the beauty of this place has taken on a special meaning simply because I almost did not get to enjoy it. One of my excellent excuses for being absent is that right before Easter, I nearly died. When I think back on that week, it is all rather surreal, for at the time, I did not realize the magnitude of the situation. It was only later when I began to put the pieces of a week together, with my medical friends filling in the blanks, that I have come to understand that there were a lot of people who worked very hard to help me live to see the green of springtime. So when I begin to complain, I just open my eyes and remind myself of the gift of this season of rain.
I actually have a lot that I want to write about, but I don't want to mix things up. There are too many wonderful things happening in my world and I want to relish them one by one! This is the place to write the words, reflect on them, and be thankful!!!