by Liz | Aug 26, 2009 | main
On my way in to work each morning I pull up to an intersection that causes me to face a line of not so very old trees. These trees were carefully planted a number of years ago and are nicely spaced so as to have plenty of room to grow without interference from neighboring trees. The one that is almost straight ahead is a beautifully shaped specimen — even, symmetrical, tall. Not constrained by other trees.
How unlike the trees in my backyard. The ones I planted from little seedlings and saplings. The white oaks that are too close together because each was an acorn with a leaf attached when planted. And planted a bit close because I wasn’t sure which, if any would survive and also because I didn’t have the vision to see the full grown tree. Same for the maples. And then, there is the McDonald’s pine tree brought home by a thrilled 3 year old and planted in a random spot.
My backyard trees are more like my life: They are lopsided because they crowd each other. They fight for the sunlight and the water and the nutrients. They form a solid cover over part of the yard. If one is removed, it is obvious that something has been taken away and it will take years to fill in the gap. Just like my life. All crammed in with people I love and ideas and responsibilities. When one of these is removed it’s pretty obvious. And it takes time to adapt and fill in the gap.
I’m not that perfect, symmetrical tree at the end of the street. I’m not an island. Some days, I wish I was. But, for today, I think it’s ok to be shaped by those around me — just as long as I can get enough sunlight and water and nutrients to hold up my spot.
by Liz | Aug 17, 2009 | main
I find the Old Testament readings at times a bit confusing… or at times they seem on the surface to reflect a God that is different from my understanding. At these times, I have to go back and read again to see just what jumps out at me.
This morning’s first reading is from the Book of Judges (Judges 2:11-19). And one thing did jump at at me. In the middle of describing the travails and hardships of the Israelites, and how God was offended because they worshiped other gods, etc. I see this: ” Abandoning the LORD, the God of their fathers…” and “Because they had thus abandoned him…” Even in this tale of what happened, they abandoned God, but God did not abandon them. And later I see that “the Lord took pity on them.”
That seems to be the story over and over and over again. Come back to me with all your heart. I will never abandon you.
What joy!
by Liz | Aug 14, 2009 | main
OK – so I lifted this straight out of Creo en Dios! — because Susan’s reflection really rang true.
I never really liked Chutes and Ladders — so arbitrary. Roll the dice. Move forward. Land on a ladder and jump up. Land on a slide (chute) and down you go. No skill. All luck. No safety until you actually reach 100 and finish. No real control.
Rather like life.
Not my favorite aspect of life at all. I want the control. I want to believe that if I follow the rules and work hard, I’ll be guaranteed success. I won’t ever slip backward. Not fair! Makes me mad when I find that I’ve taken a slide — physically, emotionally or spiritually. I thought I had earned my position by doing good. Never mind the unearned boost that comes in the form of a ladder. I worked hard, I should get the boost.
But life doesn’t actually work that way, does it? Some days I plod along. Some days I am gifted with a great boost. And, just when I think the timing is bad, or I jut don’t believe I could get tripped up and backslide – bam! there I go. So, the only thing left to do is pick myself up and start forward again. That’s not easy when the black dog of depression tries to grab at me, or when the day just goes all wrong through no fault of my own. Take a step forward. Hope for those moments of light and joy that come unearned. Take a step forward.
This journey is more about accepting both the chutes and ladders than getting to 100. That’s not how I looked at it as a child. Lots of days I forget that as an adult. But, I am beginning to be able to see it more often than before. That might just be progress.
oops – another chute.
by Liz | Jul 23, 2009 | main
Last night I decided to try to recast a webpage that someone had created in Flash into html/css. Now, if those terms mean nothing to you, don’t worry. Just know that it was a decontruction/reconstruction exercise. A brain stretch to look beyond the final appearance and discover different ways to divide the pieces and put them back using a different set of rules… only the goal is to have the end result to appear the same. Smoke and mirrors. A phone that looks like a rotary dial, but is in reality a touch tone.
The point being that I stretched my brain to look beyond the images on the page and re-evaluate how I saw them. I had to take a function that is most easily represented by plain, squared-off rectangles and make it pretty. Or, was it that I took something really pretty and complex and broke it into little functional boxes? In the end, I see it quite differently than I did before. I hope that when someone else sees it, that they will not see it differently. The viewer just needs to know that it works well.
In the end, I’m not totally sure that the way I went about the project is going to be an effective solution. But, the process was worthwhile. To borrow from the original author of the thing I was working on:
Brain stretching is never wasted– sometimes you end up applying what you learned to something totally different from what you thought you were working on!
Now, back to the journey (which, it seems is more important than reaching the final destination.)
by Liz | Jul 21, 2009 | main
You just never know what mouthpiece or tool God will use to get your attention. You’re just minding your own business and BANG! There you are looking at something you didn’t even realize you needed to hear.
I am a frequent listener to The Radio Reader on NPR. Currently, Dick Estelle is reading “A Son of the Game” (James Dodson)which is a personal memoir all tied up with middle age and golf. It’s interesting, but not a title I would expect to go to for spiritual direction. At least not until James begins to fill us in on his friend Tom. Tom is quite and interesting person – I’d like to meet him. It appears that one of the pivotal events in Tom’s life was working with Mother Teresa in Calcutta for a couple of months. The man was playing golf in Asia and decided it would be interesting to see if he could be of assistance to Mother Teresa for a couple of days. Two months later he returns to the US a changed man.
But, the Mother Teresa connection, interesting though it is, is not the thing that grabbed me. Later in the book, Tom reflects on remaking himself. He describes his perfect life as a golf pro, wonderful wife, young son, plenty of money. Perfect. Except that he realized that “As the Budhists would say, his Joy Bell was broken.” What a description of that place in life where things seem so perfect but there is something missing. Something must change. The Joy Bell is broken.
I think my joy bell is in sad shape right now. I’m a point of making some decisions that will affect the next few years of my life directly. There is the logical way to go. This is the way that makes the most sense financially. This way I can afford to do what I think I want to do. But, at what cost?
Sometimes, I don’t realize that something is missing until I find myself in a place where I feel whole – I feel “right” – as in, this is where I am supposed to be. It may not be where I think I want to be, but it is where I am supposed to be. Or it is a situation where I realize that I do have that sense of being whole, or in proper alignment.
That joy bell needs to have its crack repaired. I just hope to be able to listen and discover the best way to fix it.
