Thoughts: Stay in the game.
Thoughts: Puddle love
Puddle love.
My friend Ellen is doing her teaching practicum at a pre-school…I asked her what interesting happened today.
She said she told a kid today that it wasn’t a great idea to drink out of a puddle. She brought years of biology (germs!), geology (mud!), anthropology (the other kids don’t seem to want to drink…this!), sociology (this isn’t something people in our culture usually do, you know!) to the discussion.
He listened, then spoke.
The kid brought his first-hand experience to the discussion (it tastes gross, but I was thirsty!) and was thus persuaded to go inside for a drink.
Win-win-win.
Thoughts: Think before you speak before you think
When I was in Chattanooga in the time after Mom & Dad made their transitions, I found some of my writing in an old ‘memory box’ from grade two (at St Gerard’s in Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia), but it wasn’t writing like you expect.
I had gotten in trouble or something, so Sister had made me write ‘I will think before I speak’ a hundred times. Big pencil, big lines on the paper – I actually remember that. When I looked at the pages, I had a whoosh of memory about that, except for something new, which I held in my hands.
About two or three pages into the little stack, the words changed. ‘I will speak before I think.’ I don’t remember getting in trouble with all this (the writing part), so it must have been like that when Sister turned the pages over to my mom.
And now, as I learn each day more & more about what my heart says & what spirit says, maybe I’m getting closer to having them guide me a bit more. Pretty sure I’ve tuned in for long enough to all the often-noisy, often-insistent brain-noise that Sister wanted to be in charge.
Doesn’t matter if Sister was right.
Doesn’t matter if Sister was ‘wrong.’
Doesn’t matter if i was right.
Doesn’t matter if i was mixed up.
Just trying to keep listening.
Car facts: How much is it worth?
I love this story – it reminds of my Dad & his classic car club. (That’s his ’22 Model T in the picture, by the way…his first car!) It’s the kind of tale he’d mention, when I needed biz advice:
A father said to his daughter, “You have graduated with honors, here is a car I bought many years ago. It is a bit older now but before I give it to you, take it to the used car lot downtown and tell them you want to sell it and see how much they offer you for it.”
The daughter went to the used car lot, returned to her father and said, “They offered me $1,000 because they said it looks pretty worn out.”
The father said, “Now, take it to the pawn shop.” The daughter went to the pawn shop, returned to her father and said, ”The pawn shop offered only $100 because it is an old car.”
The father asked his daughter to go to a car club next and show them the car. The daughter then took the car to the club, returned and told her father, ”Some people in the club offered $100,000 for it because it’s a Holden Torana and it’s an iconic car and sought by many collectors.”
Now the father said this to his daughter, “The right place values you the right way!”
If you are not valued, do not be angry, it means you are in the wrong place. Those who know your value are those who appreciate you……Never stay in a place where no one sees your value.
Never!
Thoughts: What’s so wrong with being wrong?
Most of us will do anything to avoid being wrong. But what if we’re wrong about that? “Wrongologist” Kathryn Schulz makes a compelling case for not just admitting but embracing our fallibility. I always like her work with Grist – when you check this out, you’ll see why.
Writings: Sorrow makes things grow, most days…
Late last night, I was in the middle of a dream when the cat yowled at a raccoon outside. Kinda cool, because that helped me remember what was happening in the dream:
There was a stream next to a tree with roots that were above ground (some of ’em, or they wouldn’t be called roots) in a way that made for a chair shape. I sat there, watching & feeling the water go by, and glad for the sense of fulfillment & peace that made me glad I was there & nowhere else.
As I sat there, feeling the flow of the water, I realized some of the water was sad. It was the tears of people upstream who had lost friends. Some had people who were important to them pass away, and they missed them. Some had suffered harm, and hurt, and fearful situations.
I stretched my hand over the water, and said, “Only the tears need to come.” And the stream stayed the same, except that some of the water rose in a water spout and passed over my head, watering the field behind me. I knew that was the tears, rising from the flow, and in front of me the plants in the field grew quickly, strong & tall. Most of all, a second tree – not the one I was under – grew from a seedling, taking only moments to become large enough to spread its branches over me, protecting me (or so I thought) in its shade.
Still in the dream, I turned to my spirit guide, and asked, “What does it mean, Rinpoche? What does it mean?” As usual, making fun of me, he turned to my grandfather and said, “What does it mean?” who then turned to a rabbit who had hopped into the field, “Tell me what this means!” And the rabbit came to me, and whispered, “Sorrow makes things grow really big. Ever notice?”
It was really clear. Then the cat yowled, so I asked her if she was worried.
I don’t think she was, really.
Writings: Thy will be done….
Over the years, little bits of things make a bit more sense. Time passes & experience grows, as I watch the way others do things & I do things, in this play we write each day, together.
Since I was a young monk, my parents sent me to Roman Catholic schools, even though we were Anglican (or Episcopalians, in the US).
Even though I wasn’t really a monk in the usual sense, I was attracted to the idea of a daily office, or what my Buddhist friends call a practice.
The idea of doing & saying the same things over & over each day served then & now to help underline that we’re here to live spiritual lives, and then do stuff in the physical world. In that order, rather than the reverse.
At least, that’s the way I see it, hey….
When I taught my first high school job in New Orleans, it was (naturally) at a Catholic boys’ high school, where we were required to offer the Lord’s Prayer or a Hail Mary before each class. I liked the “Our Father,” so that’s the one my class began with. It was already part of the little daily office I had made for myself, along with the St. Francis “Make Me An Instrument” prayer.
One of the phrases that stuck with me then was pretty simple, the four words: Thy will be done.
At the time, I understood it in the do-what-your-parents-tell-you sense. Follow the rules, do the bosses’ will.
Do what you’re supposedta.
Over time, it became more & more apparent to me that “thy will” had more to it than that. As I watched people who felt to me to have that special gift of bringing spirit alive in the world, I started feeling a shift with both “Thy will be done” and “Make me an instrument of thy peace“…and I hope it’s OK that I share that with you, as a notion for you to turn over in your mind, to float in your head, to move your body to places where you show people what it means to share & heal.
Kinda makes things feel more, mean more, and do joy – more.
I’m pretty aware my poor efforts to share this as words is only the first part of what we’re visiting about here. So, I’d like to wrap up with a little prayer from Brother Charles, one of my spiritual heroes who made simple things turn into amazing things.
Let me know how it goes. I love the way you love, dear brothers & sisters.
Hugback –
Brother Ian
++++++++++++
Prayer of Abandonment
Father,
I abandon myself into your hands;
Do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures.
I wish no more than this, O Lord.
~Brother Charles de Foucauld,
Thoughts: Ubuntu
An anthropologist showed a game to the children of an African tribe …
He placed a basket of delicious fruits near a tree trunk and told them: The first child to reach the tree will get the basket.
When he gave them the start signal, he was surprised that they were walking together, holding hands until they reached the tree and shared the fruit!
When he asked them why you did that when every one of you could get the basket only for him!
They answered with astonishment: Ubuntu.
“That is, how can one of us be happy while the rest are miserable?”
Ubuntu in their civilization means: (I am because we are).
That tribe knows the secret of happiness that has been lost in all societies that transcend them and which consider themselves civilized societies ……. !!
Happy Solstice, dear angel!
As many people in the world celebrate this Summer Solstice, I hope this day finds you listening to the love around you & finding the chances we have, to share & to give, and that it finds you smiling.
I hope this day finds you connecting.
Connecting with your father. And your mother. And the angels who got
you here.
Connecting with the friend you meant to call & haven’t yet. Call now.
Connecting with that friend you call too much. Call anyway.
Connecting with that old grudge & calling her. Calling him. Hard call, but
a chance to release and (I hope this for you, and for me) to forgive.
Connecting with the part of your heart that opens walls, opens the locks,
and lets the light in. Then call.
Within the embrace of your love, I hope you feel that love returned.
Love, Brother Ian
Music: A Lovelies’s version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”
Canadian folk group The Good Lovelies are on a roll….if you haven’t heard them before, this is a good chance to hear them in a sweet version of the famous Cohen song:
About Brother Ian
Over the centuries, Brother Ian has been collecting stories & information & discourses for the purpose of elevating the human condition as needed, dissecting it when necessary, and building the case for hope.
In the spirit of noting that organized crime, organized baseball, organized labour, and organized religion tend to engender controversy & occasional discord, I promise to be neither organized or critical of those who are.