Here's a poem I encountered on a barefoot run to a thrift store yesterday morning.
A Psalm of Life
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou are, to dust thou returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solenm main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
I want to write about a couple of good days and and the blowing winds of change.
On the 27th day of February I woke from a string of awful dreams. They were all about me feeling small, weak, and inadequate next to just about everyone in the world: pretty girls, family, friends, young men, old men. I went to church and cried through most of the service while Rachel Epp-Miller offered a beautiful sermon on the church's duty to welcome and invite people of all sexual orientations. I could feel so much poison in me, I could see it so clearly in many of my family members, and I could feel some small portion of it leaving me with my tears. Another step toward wholeness.
During the service I also felt convicted about returning to Indiana to fight a great war. It will be a war for my soul, and I know that I will lose many of the battles, but I am also confident that I'm not going to give up. That may be the most important lesson I've learned in my last two months of traveling: that I may make compromises and I will continue to make lots of mistakes, but I will keep struggling to be a better person and to be more loving and honest. I'm going to co-create a garden in Elkhart.
Another concern I had leading up to this Sunday service was the potluck that always follows church on the last Sunday of the month. Lately I've been deaf to the needs and signals of my body. At potlucks I eat piles of rich, sugary, fatty foods until I feel emotionally and physically awful, and I was sure that this one would be no different. I considered leaving church before the potluck began or even fasting all day on Sunday, but I didn't have to. After having a good long cry during the service, all I wanted was lots and lots of salad. I ate such healthy foods and enjoyed wonderful conversation with friends at the church. I felt stable.
That afternoon, during a rousing game of Settlers with friends from church, I happened to look out the window to see Hannah Eash in the backyard, sitting on a sunny picnic table, playing her guitar, and singing while her dog Milo stood attentively at her feet. I was stirred with attraction and appreciation for her beauty and music and the whole joyful day. When I got home that evening I had to do something with all the energy that was bubbling up inside me, so I went out for a barefoot run. Somehow I got completely turned around and ended up on a much longer run than I had intended. It felt great to get lost and explore a new part of the neighborhood and it led me to some interesting places. I got home to see that my best friend, Marilyn Reish, had called and we ended up talking for nearly 100 minutes about her awful day and my great one. It was a perfect end to a great day.
The next day was pretty boring so I won't write about it. But the day after was noteworthy. So here's the note: It began with the usual green smoothie, after which I biked the six miles down to work odd jobs with my eccentric boss. He had very little for me to do until an hour later when we drove all the way back to my neighborhood to begin a bathroom remodeling project. After a fairly easy day he took me out for the most delicious Bubble Tea I've ever had. When work was done, I decided to bike up to the Witte Museum, which has free admission on Tuesdays. At the door to the museum I realized I had forgotten my lock at the workshop on the other side of the city. The museum superintendent said he had nowhere safe for me to put my bike, so I turned in resignation to bike home. A woman who had overheard the conversation stopped me and said that I could keep it in her car while we walked around the museum. And that's how I met Karen Marsh.
She and I walked around the museum together, playing with the interactive exhibits, looking at stuffed animals, and talking about life. Afterward she treated me to a delicious meal of Vietnamese food and then drove me home. My fortune cookie said, "You desire to discover new frontiers. It's time to travel." Word!
Yesterday I got an email from David Young in New Orleans. He invited me to help him work on his garden there before driving back to Indiana together in mid-March. It feels like a good option. I also found a craigslist ride leaving San Antonio in two days to head to Mardis Gras. I think that's where I'm headed, but I'll have to wait to confirm the ride.
I'm going to enjoy my last couple days in Texas and I'm looking forward to heading back to springtime in Indiana. In other news, I got a call from Gould Farm inviting me out to spend a year as a volunteer there. After looking at my resume, they said that I'm at the top of their volunteer list. I like that.
On the 27th day of February I woke from a string of awful dreams. They were all about me feeling small, weak, and inadequate next to just about everyone in the world: pretty girls, family, friends, young men, old men. I went to church and cried through most of the service while Rachel Epp-Miller offered a beautiful sermon on the church's duty to welcome and invite people of all sexual orientations. I could feel so much poison in me, I could see it so clearly in many of my family members, and I could feel some small portion of it leaving me with my tears. Another step toward wholeness.
During the service I also felt convicted about returning to Indiana to fight a great war. It will be a war for my soul, and I know that I will lose many of the battles, but I am also confident that I'm not going to give up. That may be the most important lesson I've learned in my last two months of traveling: that I may make compromises and I will continue to make lots of mistakes, but I will keep struggling to be a better person and to be more loving and honest. I'm going to co-create a garden in Elkhart.
Another concern I had leading up to this Sunday service was the potluck that always follows church on the last Sunday of the month. Lately I've been deaf to the needs and signals of my body. At potlucks I eat piles of rich, sugary, fatty foods until I feel emotionally and physically awful, and I was sure that this one would be no different. I considered leaving church before the potluck began or even fasting all day on Sunday, but I didn't have to. After having a good long cry during the service, all I wanted was lots and lots of salad. I ate such healthy foods and enjoyed wonderful conversation with friends at the church. I felt stable.
That afternoon, during a rousing game of Settlers with friends from church, I happened to look out the window to see Hannah Eash in the backyard, sitting on a sunny picnic table, playing her guitar, and singing while her dog Milo stood attentively at her feet. I was stirred with attraction and appreciation for her beauty and music and the whole joyful day. When I got home that evening I had to do something with all the energy that was bubbling up inside me, so I went out for a barefoot run. Somehow I got completely turned around and ended up on a much longer run than I had intended. It felt great to get lost and explore a new part of the neighborhood and it led me to some interesting places. I got home to see that my best friend, Marilyn Reish, had called and we ended up talking for nearly 100 minutes about her awful day and my great one. It was a perfect end to a great day.
The next day was pretty boring so I won't write about it. But the day after was noteworthy. So here's the note: It began with the usual green smoothie, after which I biked the six miles down to work odd jobs with my eccentric boss. He had very little for me to do until an hour later when we drove all the way back to my neighborhood to begin a bathroom remodeling project. After a fairly easy day he took me out for the most delicious Bubble Tea I've ever had. When work was done, I decided to bike up to the Witte Museum, which has free admission on Tuesdays. At the door to the museum I realized I had forgotten my lock at the workshop on the other side of the city. The museum superintendent said he had nowhere safe for me to put my bike, so I turned in resignation to bike home. A woman who had overheard the conversation stopped me and said that I could keep it in her car while we walked around the museum. And that's how I met Karen Marsh.
She and I walked around the museum together, playing with the interactive exhibits, looking at stuffed animals, and talking about life. Afterward she treated me to a delicious meal of Vietnamese food and then drove me home. My fortune cookie said, "You desire to discover new frontiers. It's time to travel." Word!
Yesterday I got an email from David Young in New Orleans. He invited me to help him work on his garden there before driving back to Indiana together in mid-March. It feels like a good option. I also found a craigslist ride leaving San Antonio in two days to head to Mardis Gras. I think that's where I'm headed, but I'll have to wait to confirm the ride.
I'm going to enjoy my last couple days in Texas and I'm looking forward to heading back to springtime in Indiana. In other news, I got a call from Gould Farm inviting me out to spend a year as a volunteer there. After looking at my resume, they said that I'm at the top of their volunteer list. I like that.
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