Eclectic...

My computer is so screwy that I can't even post a comment on my own blog. Oy g'veigh! What's an eclectic gal to do? So, nu, I'm just making a blog post because my comment was getting long-ish anyway.

The blog is eclectic, I really am not. In fact, I'm pretty much a one note nellie. Even my unpublished (forgot) Rosh Hashanah post! It's all about love of God. Living in it more, expanding awareness of it, expressing it better, being able to find language for it, learning new ways to think about it... it's really all from the same motivation. Whether it's the Hebrew, or reading through the Tao, Kabbalah, meditating on the lives of the saints... it's all because I can't get over this God!


I don't even allow myself to actually dwell on it too much because it takes all my time and it blows me too far away! I can't even say any more about it.



+++++



I wanted to do more of a post on Beth Moore. But, why? I mean, I'm preaching to the choir. Even if I thought any of the Moore-ites would be open to hearing my brilliant and much-needed insight, what good would it do?

Look, it's true that the "Bible Studies" don't acknowledge the massive glory of the book we call the Bible. (They call it "The Word.") Beth Moore skips across centuries, she dances through cultures and language as if they weren't there, she's impervious to any consideration of literatry form, she's a nimble proof-texter, and she's got these women believing that if they look up an english word in a greek lexicon that they have done a greek word study on it, you know, in "the" greek. Really, you all don't want to get me going on that.

But, I thought about it a little bit this afternoon. What good would it do for me to tell them these things? Maybe one person would start to think a little bit. Probably not. More likely they would just feel sorry for me and call me an intellectual. The standard for that is pretty low I think.

And I don't think it's doing any harm to just let them go on with what they are doing. I mean, they really believe they are doing serious Bible Study and if they keep believing that... well, maybe one day they will! I don't want to be the one to derail whatever path they are on. I've had people try to do that to me and I didn't like it too much.


The thing is, I am feeling more tenderly towards the Beth Moore-ites. I can't help it.


This morning a paper they gave me fell out of my Bible. It was a list of some Hebrew names for God. I think there were ten, maybe twelve, of them. Bless their hearts. They are just like me: Looking for more ways to think about God, more ways to know this unknowable entity, they too want to talk about God and express their love for God. And, somehow they've come up with these ten or twelve names and written them down and shared them with me. Isn't that precious? I just about cried for the sweetness of it.

As a little experiment I listed the ones I could come up off the top of my head this afternoon. I was embarassed that I only had 27. But, I was more embarassed that I rarely ever meditate on more than a handful of them. I hardly ever think of Tesemach Adonai (branch of the Lord), I wouldn't even have thought about it except that it was in my reading a few days ago. And I especially never think of Avi or Avi-ad (father). And I double especially don't enjoy too much thinking about Shofet (Judge), unless it's in relation to my enemies. I am more of an Mascheck or Ma'on (shelter) kind of thinker. I am also fond of El'or, God of Light... stuff like that. So, I am not convinced that having so many is a real assett, unless you just want to show off. We don't want to be like that, do we? Sometimes we do. But, we overcome it.

The names are important. They let us know of God's gender (El is a boy, El Shaddai is a girl), they tell about God's number (Yashar is just one, Elokem is plural), and they each allow us another peak at this unending mystery in which we live. Having more names is better than fewer, I would say. But, what is more important is what you do with the ones you've got. If all you have is ten names for God, well, dayenu! That is enough.

And if Beth Moore is the Bible Study teacher you've got, dayenu! And, if you enjoy looking things up in a greek lexicon, what's the harm? God can use anything.

So, that's where I am with the Beth Moore-ites. I want more for them but realize they are happy where they are and as a Star Trekkie I know that the prime directive is not to interfere. They have God, and that is always enough.

Dayenu!

Connecticut says YES!

Now all that's left is for the Christians to grouse and grumble, probably come up with a ballot initiative, stir up a lot of hetro-hate and homo-fear, and eventually go down in flames like they are about to in California.

When will you fundamentalits learn this one fundamental lesson: The arc of history -- God's own history -- is in the direction of justice. No amount of proof-texting, fear mongering, or wringing of hands can change that.

Every page of that Bible you worship tells of a God moving people out of slavery and bondage, into freedom; out of exile, and into the mainstream. Every little thing is a step closer to the Kingdom, and it's comming babies... it's coming!

Go Connecticut!

Tao Te Ching, Seventy Six

From this morning's readings...

A man is born gentle and weak
At his death he is hard and stiff.
Green plants are tender and filled with sap.
At their death they are withered and dry.

Therefore the stiff and unbending is the disciple of death.
The gentle and yielding is the disciple of life.

Thus an army without flexibility never wins a battle.
A tree that is unbending is easily broken.

The hard and strong will fall.
The soft and weak will overcome.

-- Tao Te Ching, Seventy-Six

+++++

On an unrelated note... totally unrelated... Saint Regina was not a recently remembered saint. Turns out I was reading in the wrong month on that.

I did go to Beth Moore Bible Study last night. Maybe I'll write something about that later. For now I'll just say that there's more diversity in the body of Christ than we ever imagined, and I think I'm it.

Have a good day everyone, and don't do anything I wouldn't ;)

Saint Regina

Yesterday was the day we remembered Saint Regina on the calendar of Saints. Nobody knows much about Regina. Her mother died in childbirth. Her father was a prosperous pagan. Poor motherless Regina was handed off to a nurse who took it upon herself to baptize Regina. When Regina's father heard that his daughter had been baptized, he immediately disowned her. My hagiography says he flew into a rage over it! The nurse took Regina in. They were poor and Regina helped out by herding sheep. Eventually a man whom I'll not dignify by naming proposed marriage to her. She refused and he put her in prison for it. Eventually he tortured her to death for her refusal to deny her faith, marry him, and sacrifice to idols. It was a brutal death to be sure.

I admire the martyrs, possibly more than I should. But, with all respect to Regina, what touched me about this story wasn't her faithfullness in the face of torture. It's that it was her baptism that set it all off. Really, it defined the rest of her life.

Apparently, even a pagan can recognize the indelible mark of baptism. Having been raised by baptists that seems pretty remarkable to me. My own credobaptism wasn't that way. The baptists call what I had "believer's baptism." And I guess that was OK. But, it had more to do with something that I did, I believed, than it did with anything God had done.

I am wondering why we don't take baptism so seriously anymore. What would it mean if we did? And I guess the underlying question is to ask what baptism actually is. I'm not talking about the catechetical answer. I know that one. I need something better. I am thinking about that.

And Now A Word From Beth Moore

Often we hear the noble expression "color blind" to describe people without racial prejudice. We're not at all sure "color blindness" is what God is looking for. We believe He wants us to appreciate and delight in our different colors and be "color-blessed" instead!

-- Beth Moore

You know, my life would be a lot easier if things were more, you know, black and white.

I would really like to just dismiss Beth Moore as another crack-pot isogetical freak but now she's gone and said this... pretty much exactly what I said just a few days ago.

It just goes to show you, we can all learn from one another. Everybody has something important to contribute. I am not saying you should invite her to your parish. You shouldn't. But, we can't just wave her off either. Like it or not... and, to be totally honest, I do not... Beth is one of us.

I am going to go back to the Beth Moore Bible Study, published by the hate-mongers at LifeWay, and see what I can learn from my enemies. This is required if we're ever going to get anywhere with the whole Kingdom of God thing... know what I mean?

On Beth Moore

I recently stated my own personal opinion as if it were an actual fact with regard to Crusillo and EFM. I can tell you that my personal opinions have not changed much since then either. But, I did realize that I spoke from a limited vantage point, and that my opinions had been formed by looking at an extreemly small piece of the pie.

And what is even more important to me than the possibility of being wrong, which I am pretty much used to by now, is the possibility that I hurt someone's feelings. So I felt badly about that and I apologized. That's about all you can do. And then I realized that I'd done it AGAIN... this time with Beth Moore.

Oy me... Have I become so self-important? Well, of course I have. If it's not one sin, it's another. And, after this, it'll be another still. Bear with me as I seem to have a real bad habit of sinning over and over again.

I really don't know enough about Beth Moore to be making such bold statements. It is only my personal opinion that she's a nut, and that's based on the slenderest of evidence. I've only been in the thing for three weeks, and one of those was hurricane evacuation week.

Here's what I DO know:

Beth Moore is an engaging, and entertaining, speaker. I'd go somewhere to listen to her. Shoot, I'd love to have a lovely port with her. She's very interesting. But, I don't think she's much on the porto.

She is NOT an Anglican and will do nothing to promote Anglican values or ethos in your congregation. And, I am sure she would agree with that and possibly be proud of it.

She is unfairly critical of the Jesus Seminar. Mocks it. And she gets laughs for it too.

Her workbook is published by LifeWay, an openly, practicing, and avowedly homophobic publishing house. And, that's not her only homophobic friend either. She's a Baptist. Need I say more? (There's that fun pun again.)

The workbook requires homework for which there are "correct" and "incorrect" answers. We took a little "True" and "False" quiz at the start of last week's lesson. I am not to happy with that. Just me.

Beth Moore treats the Bible as if it's all one book, written by the same person, to the same people. That seems real disrespectful to Holy Scripture to me.

Beth Moore cherry picks verses from all over to make a single point and I don't think that that's always what the verses she chooses mean. I brought this up once and gave an example. It was not well-received.

In the second session Beth Moore wanted us to see that God is big, really big. (Like a giant man, Dr. Barth?) So, anyway, I agree with that, God is big. Beth Moore says that every time we try to define God, that limits our understanding and creates a little idol. That's kind of right, too. More likely it creates a little heresy, probably one that's been around for awhile. But, I am not going to argue with Beth Moore over something that little. Heresy, idols... neither one is that good. But, here's the point, and most of you have already guessed where I'm going, Beth Moore's God is limited to the "God of the word." You know, The Bible. What nobody at the Beth Moore Bible Study will say is that this is in itself a defining of God, and it's limiting, and it turns the Bible into a little idol.

I've gone on perhaps a little more than I should have on Beth Moore. Obviously we have a lot of differences.

I have found the experience enlightening in other ways though. For example, I used to think that there wasn't that much difference between Anglicans and ordinary protestants. Woah... think again. Dear Anglican friends, we are a different breed.

I actually attended the Methodist church one Sunday morning, that's where we have the Beth Moore meetings. That pretty well disabused me of the notion that Methodists and Anglicans would ever again be reunited. And I used to think that. Until just a couple weeks ago, I thought that.

And I have the experience of listening to and observing Baptists and Methodists in their natural habitat, the Fellowship Hall.

I will update you after the next meeting. The meetings are on Thursdays and I haven't decided whether I am going to Beth Moore or the veep debate.

Just personally, I have a feeling Beth Moore is a great ol'e gal. But, she's not one of us. I don't think it's apporpriate to have her as part of an Anglican parish's offerings because she is so blatently anti-intellectual, she's interested in the "correct" answers, and she is a member of an unhealthy and hateful organization. She is disrespectful to Holy Scripture and she does not look to history or tradition for guidance. She seems fairly reasonable, but fairly unAnglican.

Of course, I could be wrong.

(Previously I spelled Ms. Moore's name "More." I was wrong and have corrected the error.

Not every quiet man is humble, but every humble man is quiet.

Isaac The Syrian

Is it just me? It seems like everywhere I go these days there are people chatting away. I never fail to open a door but what there isn't someone behind it wanting words to come out of my mouth.

It's not that I am particularly humble either. It's just that I crave some quiet, a place free of words and their competing vibrations. Others seem impervious to the effects of so many vibrations. Me, I get kind of sea sick from it.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the chatters in my life. I find them almost infinately amusing. Last week I got so tickled at my sister-in-law that I started laughing out loud. She's so independent that she doesn't even need another person in order to have a conversation!

And, in all their chattering, they are quick to tell me things about myself that I would never have noticed on my own. Linda doesn't need to buy anything because she's a hermit... Linda always pays retail... I'm surprised Linda eats meat because she cried when we saw that dead dear, 'member... Seeing myself through their eyes... well, I've taken it all under consideration.

People in this town often ask me if I am Ms. McMillan's daughter. Well, in one sense I am. But I also AM Ms. McMillan. Whatever. Some people think they know me because they know my mother. They do not. My mother is the nice one, the community organizer, the philanthropist, the talented one, woman of the year even... twice!

I am the quiet one.

Thanks to The Blue-Eyed Gnostic

Hear me, you that hear and listen to my words, you who know me. I am the hearing that can be acquired everywhere, and I am the speech that cannot be grasped. I am the name of the sound and the sound of the name. For what is inside of you is what is outside of you, and the one who fashioned you on the outside is the one who shaped the inside of you. And what you see outside of you, you see inside of you; it is visible and it is your garment.

-- The Thunder: Perfect Mind, NHL, p.302
From the Gnostic Book of Hours, p. 44.

Shamelessly nicked from Eileen, who has a pretty picture to go along with it over at her place.

The Thunder: Perfect Mind is one of the Sethian writings. That means it's thought to be associated with Seth. Yes, that Seth. From Adam and Eve. There're lots of other Gnostic and Gnostic-type wroitings spanning centuries and encompassing other heresies. "Gnosticism" has just become a blanket term for all of them.

A'course, you and I know that Gnosticism is a heresy. I don't recall it being condemned by any of the great eccumenical councils... speak up if you do. But I do know that Gonsticism, in all it's varieties, was condemned by that great heresy hunter Tertullian. He is practically defined by his anti-gnosticism. Before Tertulian, there was Iraenaus who, in his "Adversus Haereses" wrote about the Gonsticism in his region (France). And some people even say that the writer of The First Epistle to Timothy had Gonsticism in mind, referring to it as a "profane novelty."

But, I don't really want to write to you about Gnosticism. I want to talk about hereises for a minute. It is too easy to say, "Oh that's a heresy..." and dismiss it out of hand. Whenever something is that apparent, it deserves a second look because it's probably not right.

I don't think that the promoters of heresy, the heretics, set about to undermine the faith. I can't know that for sure but I have a feeling I'm right. I think that they were really seeking God. I do. And I think they found a little truth somewhere in there just like we all do. The thing that makes them heretics is that the truth they found was exalted above other truths and often made the only true thing. And that is a heresy.

Thank God for scholars who identified heresies and wrote about them. Tertulian and Ireaneas are only two of a pantheon of great heresy fighters. What they did is help us know who we are, who Christians are, by showing us what we are not. Gnostics... nope, not that. Marcionites... nope, not that either. Valentinians..., not that either. Just the list of Gnostic heresies might easily fill the page but the answer is still the same: Nope, not that either.

But, there is still truth in them thare heresies. It may be small compared to the whole but that doesn't make it any less true. So, instead of throwing out the Gnostic poetry along with the Gnostic heresy, let's embrace its beauty, see that it's true and may just as well feed our soul as the poetry of the Psalms.

If we are honest, and most of us are not... But, if we are, we know that we are constantly vascillating among this or that heresy. This is especially true regarding big things like the trinity, or the nature of God, anything ineffable. We want to understand and we can't do that without words, so we enter into one of the hereises for the language. But, we have to back out because it's not adequate, not the whole truth. We can see that this other thing, for which we also have words, is true too. And, suddenly we're in another heresy. So, we back out of that and into another, and into another, and into another. Maybe, if it's a real nice heresy, we even stop for awhile to enjoy it. It's OK.

It's not bad or wrong to do that. I mean, we can't go around in a transcendental state all day. So, the heresies give us a way to speak and think about God. But, if we've dismissed all the hereises then we are left without much to go on. I think I would feel just awful if I didn't have the company of Macian and Valentinius, Aruis, Apollanarius, Nestorius, and the others. They let me know that I am not alone is wanting to understand, and that I am not alone in constantly being wrong.

Heretically yours,

Lindy

A Little More On Race

We can't even begin to know ourselves until we learn to distinguish between who we are and who others are. That requires us to see otherness and acknowledge it. It may begin with Brother Buber's famous I and Thou but it extends to all others and is the thing that allows us to know them and, through them, ourselves. For example:

* I know that I do not have blond hair because I have met people who do.
* I know I am a woman because I have met people who are not.
* I know that I am white because I have met people who are brown and black and yellow...


You get the idea.

Christianity itself is mainly defined in terms of what it is not. Thank God for the heresies. As soon as one pops up we have a pope or theologian or ecumenical council saying, "Nope, that's not what we are..." And it has been in knowing what we are not that we have been able to define what we are.

So, when it comes to race, don't brag to me that you are color blind.

If you can't look at someone and see that they are in some way colored, then how do you know what color you are?

When I hear someone say that they are colorblind I know I am talking to someone who doesn't even know what color they are. After all, they are color blind.

White people like to feign color blindness because we don't want to be confronted with our racism. It's so much easier to pretend that everyone is white.

Isn't it funny that you never hear black people claiming to be color blind?

I'll tell you what I think. I think that black people know that color matters, that it's defining. For a long time it defined where they could eat, or which drinking fountain they could use, where they could sit on the bus, what job they could have, where they could go to school. Oh yeah... race, color, has been defining for black people.

Should race be the thing that defines a person? No, I don't think it should be. But, as long as those of us who are white continue to use it to ensure our own privileged position in society, it will be.

White people promote racism because it benefits us. That's just the reality.
If you can't see that, then you're a racist.

Want to end racism? Open your eyes and see the black, see all the colors.

Serious about ending it? Move across the tracks. Become black. Then racism will end.

+++++

And now a word from Beth Moore:

Often we hear the noble expression "color blind" to describe people without racial prejudice. We're not at all sure "color blindness" is what God is looking for. We believe He wants us to appreciate and delight in our different colors and be "color-blessed" instead!

A Few Questions on Race

I don't usually post political stuff on this blog. Lots of other people do, Fran is one of the best and most passionate. We all love Fran. There are others. Hat tip to all who've previously posted this. I nicked it from Fran but it's other places too.

I am going to post the following questions because they are important, because we are ignorant and lazy for failing to confront the latent racism in our society, all of us are lazy and guilty... except, of course, for the very few of you who aren't. And I am posting this because I am becoming increasingly aware of the very nice people in my neighborhood who are unaware -- blissfully and righteously unaware -- of their own racism, misogyny and homophobia. Yeah, they all go together.

Here are the questions:

• What if John McCain were a former president of the Harvard Law Review?
• What if Barack Obama finished fifth from the bottom of his graduating class?

• What if McCain were still married to the first woman he said "I do" to?
• What if Obama were the candidate who left his first wife after she no longer measured up to his standards?

• What if Michelle Obama were a wife who not only became addicted to pain killers, but acquired them illegally through her charitable organization?
• What if Cindy McCain graduated from Harvard?

• What if Obama were a member of the "Keating 5"?
• What if McCain was a charismatic, eloquent speaker?

• If these questions reflected reality, do you really believe the election numbers would be as close as they are?

This is what racism does.

It covers up, rationalizes and minimizes positive qualities in one candidate and emphasizes negative qualities in another when there is a color difference.

We've got to stop pretending that all is well.

We are living in, and most of us benefit from, a racist, misogynist, and homophobic society. Awareness is a good first step. Of course, awareness will be difficult for white, straight, men and the women who benefit from their association with them.

I don't have a lot of answers for you. I'm an Anglican remember. My job is the questions. My responsibility extends only to myself. So, here are the questions I am going to ask myself this week:

1. How would my day have been different if my skin were a different color? If I didn't speak English? If I were not a citizen? If I had been hungry?

2. Who did I encounter today who was significantly different? Was I aware of their difference or did I try to pretend that they were like me?

3. In what ways did my race privilege me today? Am I willing to give that up?

4. How can I share privilege?

5. Am I willing to BE the other, or do I just like talking about it?

I think the examination of these questions, and our motives, is very dicey. We can't know our own hearts, they are so slippery and deceitful. Nor can we say what would have been. We just do the best we can. I hope that will be enough.

"Aspire to God with short but frequent outpourings of the heart."

St. Francis of Sales

I want to thank those of you who prayed for me while I was away. And, as a report to you, let me say that your prayers were sustaining and effectual.

It is embarrassing, really, to say how pleasant the whole evacuation was. I left home early in the morning with my dog and a few belongings. It was a cool morning and I had the top down on the car. There was traffic, lots more than usual. But, at 4/5 AM... it was nothing. I arrived in Austin around 11 and had lunch with my favorite person at my favorite cafe. Then I headed out to Spicewood where more friends greeted me. There I had a lovely suite overlooking beautiful Lake Travis. I ate the best food, we had wonderful wine, my dog waded in the swimming pool and chased deer. We talked politics, shared thoughts on sustainable living, and watched the news reports of hurricane Ike. All this while others were in shelters and giving thanks for MREs. You see how well I had it!

When I got home there was electricity, water, and minimal wind damage. I spent a pleasant day or so picking up branches with my neighbors. Others had it much worse.

It might be easy for me to start believing that God had specially protected me, that because of your prayers I was somehow specially surrounded by guardian angels and protected not just from harm but inconvenience too. And we can probably all name people who would leap to just that very conclusion. We know better, though. Like the Holy Spirit the winds blow where they will and it could just as easily have been my home with a big tree in it. Or worse.

So, while I don't think my case is in any way "special," I do believe more than ever in the power of prayer and specifically the effectiveness of many short prayers. It was clear to me that my way was clear. The evacuation, so difficult for others, was a breeze for me. So, something was going on and I can only attribute it to prayer.

If you are like me, and some of you are, then your prayers may not have amounted to much. It's OK. I do it too. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of times I've bowed my head at the computer and said a short prayer for someone. Sometimes I'll remember them later at, you know, "prayer time." But, more often, it's short. That's sometimes called an ejaculatory prayer, just so you know. Sometimes I say a prayer I know, sometimes one I make up myself, sometimes not much more than a sigh. I used to think that was kind of slothful praying. But, I've changed my mind.

I think it was Francios de Sales who said, You will be sustainedby many short prayers." It sounds like somethng he would have said. I used to think that he meant that I should say many short prayers. And I am often saying The Jesus Prayer or some slight varriant. I believe in the merits of that. That's what Jonah did in the belly of the fish, you know. Many short prayers, all of them from the Psalms. Jonah knew the prayers of his people, knew them well. And, when he needed them, those prayers from the Psalms came readily to his heart and lips. And, that happens for us too.

But now I see another aspect of that. What I see is that not only do my short prayers sustain me but yours do too! Honestly, I didn't pray much during the evacuation. I just didn't. Don't know why. But, you did! Your short prayers sustained me. Francois, if indeed I have the attribution correct on that, is still right. I am sustained by many short prayers. Just not my own.

Sometimes when I am up late at night, very early morning actually, I wonder why. Surly these pittiful little prayers do more to make me feel better than they do for anyone else. Does God even hear such vague pleas? "Be strength for the oppressed, become healing to the broken. Oh God, receive tenderly the souls of the dying. Convert the hearts of the violent..." On and on with my little prayers. I hardly even know what I am doing at that hour and, since I got my new memory foam mattress, I prefer to keep my knees in the bed and off the floor. But, what if Francios was right and my short prayers joined with yours? That seems like something worth getting out of bed for.

I don't know how prayer works, or why we do it. I've told you all that before. But, if once in awhile I can see that there's some reason, that it might even be effectual... well, that might be enough to sustaiun me in continuing.

I can't find the exact quote I am looking for but let me leave you with these few lines:

• "As those who are influenced by human and natural love have their minds and hearts constantly fixed on the objects of their affections; as they speak often in their praise, and when absent lose no opportunity of expressing by letters this affection for them and can not even pass a tree without inscribing on the bark the name of their beloved; so those,who are possessed of divine love have their minds and hearts constantly turned toward the divine object of their love; they are ever thinking of Him, they long after Him; they aspire to Him, and frequently, speak of Him; and were it possible, would engrave in the hearts of all mankind the name of their beloved Jesus." St. Francis of Sales

• It is an old Custom with the servants of God always to have some little prayers ready and to be darting them up to heaven frequently during the day, lifting their minds to God out of the filth of this world. He who adopts this plan will get great fruit with little pains." St. Philip Neri

Peace and love to all!

Lindy

Believe the Best

One of my friends in Sweeny called me a couple of times to let me know what was going on with the hurricane, etc... Another neighbor called too, and there is another friend that I was thinking of when I stepped into my favorite bakery early yesterday morning. (It's Weikel's, just north of LaGrange on the 71. Much better than the more popular Huskera's up the road.) Anyway, I bought a loaf of bread for all of us. As I made my first delivery the friend's husband opened the door. I explained my mission and handed him the loaf of bread and he said, "Huh... I never figured you'z the type." I said, "What do you mean?" And he admitted that he didn't really know. We smiled and I left. But, I knew what he'd meant. Based on never having met me for more than a minute or two, on never having had a converstion with me, based on nothing at all really, he'd assumed that I just wasn't the type to think of anyone but myself. I have lived in the city after all. I am an, a-hem, les-be-un. And everyone knows I don't go to church anymore... lost my faith, I guess. Anyway, I was wondering what it would be like if instead of trying to get a bead on one another's motives we just believed thebest about them. I mean, what would that be like?

I am going to practice believing the best about people today.

Environment is more important than will

-- Paramanhansa Yogananda

I have a desk. It's a great desk with all kinds of exotic carvings. There are peacocks and boats, pagodas and more peacocks. It's beautiful. Totally impractical, but beautiful. I read and journal there, and I keep some things in the little drawers inside. It's my favorite environment.

To be honest, I am a little overly attached to the desk. I actually love it. I keep it properly dusted and polished, and I love the polishing because that's when I get to trace all it's intricacies and "waste" time wondering what it all means, who carved it and why. It's sort of mysterious, this desk of mine. My environment. It's an outward and visible sign of things I'll never know. My environment allows for mystery. It's a place where it's OK not to know, just to be.

The desk is made of some unknown dark wood. My bookcase is also of some unknown dark wood, old and of some historical note I've been told. So, last week when I went off shopping for another bookcase I thought I'd get something dark. I watch HGTV, after all, and I know how to do design. You know, from Tee Vee.

Before my shopping really got under way I stopped at a friend's furniture store in a near by town. The furniture they stock is way out of my price range, really beautiful stuff. I wasn't even there to shop. In retrospect I can't remember why I was there. But, I digress... So, I was taking with my friend and she said, "Well, I've got a bookcase..." and she walked me back to this gorgeous honey colored bookcase. It was solid and wide. Except for the color, it was just what I was looking for.

My friend claimed the bookcase had some water damage. It had been marked down and didn't sell, they didn't need it, long story short, I could have it. I thought I'd probably have to put a stain on it so that it would fit in with the other furniture. But, no big deal. Small price to pay, just a little elbow grease, for a great bookcase.

As if my life is not rich and blessed enough, eh? Now I'm getting free bookcases.

You might reasonably think that the new honey colored bookcase wouldn't fit in with my old dark furniture. And it doesn't. But, I am not going to change the new bookcase. Want to know why? It's because the new bookcase changed my dark furniture. In the desk, and the other bookcase, there were hues of gold and red that I'd never seen before. Even my wood floor has red streaks! I kid you not, I was so stunned at the transformation that I sat down and just stared at the other furniture. The loved desk seemed unknown and more mysterious. And the old lawyers bookcase -- I am not exaggerating -- had streaks of fire in it.

Environment.

Environment is more important than will. That's probably one of the reasons Sri Yogananda started spiritual communities for his devotees. It's why Jesus kept the disciples together, it's the rationale behind cloistered life. It's why sports teams travel together, and armies go off by themselves before battle. Environment.

What is near us changes us, brings out the true colors and makes us better (or at least different) than we are by ourselves. But, it's not the sameness that brings out our hidden beauty. It's the different one, the other, the single odd piece.

I am in an odd place, surrounded by odd people. Discouraging as I find that, I have hope that maybe some streaks of fire, a hidden hue, might emerge. You never know.

"...just as the natural environment depends on biodiversity, so the human environment depends on cultural diversity, because no one creed has a monopoly on spiritual truth; no one civilization encompasses all the spiritual, ethical and artistic expressions of mankind.”

-- Sir Jonathan Sachs
(nicked from Elizabeth Kaeton)

I've been thinking quite a lot about the end of the world. It all started with this show I saw on the History channel. According to the show, it's almost a sure bet that the world is going to end on December 21, 2012. I've been thinking about that.

So, is that true? Well, the show did offer some scientific stuff to make its point. And it was on Tee Vee, after all.

I think the better question is, if it is true, then how does that change the way I live today? Obviously I don't want to get 40 or 50 years down the line and say, "Oh, dern, I should've planned for my old age." But, neither do I want to live every moment for some future time that may never come.

I am not so sure that it's true what Jesus said, that no man knows the day or the hour. I think maybe the Mayans, and those old Chinese guys, did figure something out. I think the point Jesus was making is that it's better -- far, far, better -- to live as much in the present moment as possible. That, after all, is where he is.

So what do you suppose will be so noteworthy that I break my long blog silence to comment on it?

An award, of course.

Thank you beautiful Eileen for stroking my ego and giving me something to blog about.

The award is basically meaningless, of course. There's no accompanying cash prize or anything. I can't even hold it in my hands and admire my reflection in it's shiny gold finish. But, I love it just the same. Something about being known and recognized delights the heart. It's palpable. Can't be ignored.

The blog world mystifies and fascinates me. I've never met any of you. Well, maybe a few. Yet I cry when your kitties die, I think of you when you are traveling, pray over you. I am in love with some of your dogs. And in these weeks when my own life has been discombublated and my internet access sketchy I've tried to convince myself that it didn't really matter. I got all my "real" work done, after all. At the end of the day, though, I'd wonder about you. And I missed you. Because you are real.

So, thanks Eileen for the Kick Ass Award. I've kicked more s*** than I care to recall and somehow, I'm still here. Thanks be to God, and a couple others.

I am granting the award to JohnieB because I loved his post about war and because I have a feeling he's a great soul.

I am also giving it to Doxy for her searing post on AIDS. This made me love you Doxy.

And I am giving it to Grendel who has posted some of the best dog writing on the whole internets. And I am also giving Grendel some virtual gravy. Check out "I Can Haz Psalms." It's beautiful.

I think I'll also give it to Kristen because she's been kicking cancer's ass.

And I'll give it to Elizabeth Kaeton just because. Just because I often find myself hoping she's posted on a subject because I want to know what she thinks about it. She's a sharpie, that Kaeton woman.

And I want to give it to one more person too. My fellow Texan and pal Barbi Click. Because she deserves an award.

You ALL kick ass.

So, here's the rules... you know there's got to be rules else chaos would reign. And we can't have that.

• Choose 5 bloggers that you feel are "Kick Ass Bloggers"
• Let 'em know in your post or via email, twitter or blog comments that they've received an award
• Share the love and link back to both the person who awarded you and back to www.mammadawg.com
• Hop on back to the Kick Ass Blogger Club HQ to sign Mr. Linky then pass it on!

I copied and pasted these rules directly from the official Kickin' Ass site so you know they are the real thing. That said, play if you want and use the rules as best suits you.

Love to all,

Lindy

Out Of Pocket Again

Dear Blog Friends,

I'll be out of pocket for another week or so. South Texas, then Mexico, then another town in Texas and finally home for awhile.

Please pray for me that I may have safe and uneventful travels, that I may always find myself where I am supposed to be, and that I will see the face of Christ in all I meet. And know that I remember you in my prayers as well.

Peace,

Lindy

Just Catching Up

I got moved last week. All my stuff is here and everything is in its place. I've gotten rid of a lot of things and feel good about that. Less is more, you know. For someone who claims that this Earth is not my home, I often collect worldly goods as if I planned to live here forever.

My little dog has settled in nicely and is enjoying the new found independence of having a doggie door. There are a lot of squirrels here which need his attention.

My car is in it's other home right now... that is, the repair shop. This has not been such a big deal.

I have lost my regualr schedule. Temporarily, of course. But, it seems like a long time since I've seen my books and sat at my desk just to see what thoughts are there, waiting for me to be still long enough to think them. A whole week of discombublation is too much for me. It's boring, I know. But I am a person of habit.

I went to a cook-out at my brother's last night. There is a wedding shower for him today. I guess because he needs things? Believe me when I tell you that he needs no worldly goods. But there is a shower anyway. I can't help but wonder why he isn't having people give money to the MGDs or something. The accumulation is just appalling. But, I am here among my bio-family and that's what they do. Accumulate. More. Better. Latest. Different color.

And then there's me. My family think of me as the poor one. Poor Linda. So given to moderation. So different.

Well, pitty me not dear blog friends. I am happy, even if a little bit out of my element.

I nicked this cool map of the US from our fellow tribe member Ann. You can make your own by clicking on the link. It shows all the places I've been, and where all I have left to go.


visited 37 states (74%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or determine the next president

Have a fun weekend.

Your pal,

Lindy