Against the wind

"The wind blows wherever it pleases, you hear it's sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." - Jesus

So, in the last couple months I gained about 8 of the 20 pounds I lost during the last year and half. I think it's due to the fact that I've been running sporadically, and eating not so sporadically. I ran today though... a good long run. It was a bit breezey at times.. The interesting thing about running against the wind on a hot day is that it hinders and helps your progress. On the one hand it blows me back, which requires more exertion to continue the pace I want to keep. But on the other hand, the breeze cools me off on a hot day lowering my body temperature and thereby providing me with more stamina to continue running. In the end I prefer the breeze. It's a refreshing reminder of the wind of God's Spirit. Once it wafts your way, your road gets rougher, but your run gets sweeter.

My Totem

There's a common feature in many indigenous religions called totemism. Totemism has to do with an individual or a tribe claiming some sort of solidarity with a particular species of animal. That animal then, in a sense, becomes their mascott. Hunting it is taboo, and the sight of it is a sacred experience. Perhaps you've heard of the totem pole? It's more than a tall tiki carving with depictions of fun furry critters. This is a monument to the animal(s) held sacred to the tribe.

I believe that a certain form of totemism is alive and well among us today. But in modern, western expression it may manifest itself differently. It might be those times when you get a rare peek of the sublimity of nature that moves you so deeply that you at least identify it as a reminder of the divine or the supernatural. For my wife, it's the rays that come through the clouds known as "the fingers of God". It could also be those moments where it seems divinity whispers through nature seredipitous secrets into your ear. Someone in my extended family died about a year ago, and she was very fond of birds (particuarly cardinals). Shortly after the funeral, her daughter saw a cardinal sitting and singing on the ledge of her kitchen window.

I must admit that I believe in these modern forms of totemism; because I believe that heaven and earth are related concentrically. And if the earth is subsumed within the circle of heaven then there must be windows to divnity all around us. If we are enveloped by Elysium, then we shouldn't be surprised by the occasional glimpse of ambrosial artistry emanating its enchantment in the trees, the clouds, the creek or the birds. My belief in today's totemism stems in part from my own experience, because I think I have a totem myself - the Sandhill Crane. I don't know exactly why, but I love to see and hear them. They bring to my mind the creator. Maybe it's their prehistoric, regal beauty that has me ruminating at the intersection of divinity and creation. Or maybe it's their trumpet-like call issuing from some deep preserved place in their primeval past that makes me think of a younger time, a time closer to our creation, closer to the breath that blew life into our dark, dead world. Whatever it is, I'm intrigued and inspired everytime I witness their avian effulgence.

meditation and mosquitoes (and other distractions)

so i was at my spot by the creek trying to clear my mind to meditate and pray, but apparently the mosquitos are back in force. add to the season a body of water and shade, and you have an airforce of unrelenting bloodthirsty, malevolent, miniature demons. i stayed for a while swatting them when i could, but that wasn't conducive for the state of mind i was trying to procure. inspired by buddha's ascetic time, when he would meditate on thorns, or allow children to light a fire under him, i tried just sitting motionless as the little bastards took their fill of my bodily fluids. but alas, i couldn't take it, and i killed a good half dozen more when i opened my eyes. on top of all of this distraction, the little poop colored chiuaua i mentioned a couple blogs ago came running down from the trail with his owner in tow. now mind you, this spot is not visible from the trail, so the likelyhood of this encounter was pretty slim. but here he is again, running around in the water in front of me, interrupting my time. i commented to the owner, "so we meet again." i think it may have come off a bit like james bond when he encouters his archrival for the second time in the movie after barely escaping death during their first meeting. the kid (teenager), after all, was a bit defensive. "he's gotta have his water." the boy says. i watched them until they left, then tried again. all during this time there had been a woodpecker hammering away at a nearby tree. after a few more minutes of distraction, i decided to get up and leave.

all in all though, it was actually a very good reminder that the purpose for prayer and meditation is not to escape the world, but rather to come out engaging it more fully.

the call

i missed our good friday service last night. i had too much grading to do... still do. but i hate missing good friday. i feel like easter is cheapened without comemorating Jesus' death first. it's as if you went to a carnival and were handed a huge teddy bear without knocking down the milk jugs first. i mean sure, it's a nice teddy bear and all, but still, it will probably just sit on my shelf with the rest of the teddy bears (that is if i collected teddy bears... which i don't, really!). i remember when i registered to run a half marathon. they gave me my packet of info, which included a shirt, the week before the race. it was a cool shirt, but it was just that.... a shirt. after i ran the race, however, it took on special meaning, and i wore it with pride, with dignity (and i wore it often; too often... in fact, i think my wife threw it out due the wear i put on it).

so goes the life of christians, i think. we lose our sense of awe for the granduer of the easter message if we don't daily carry the cross of good friday. what does that mean? i think it means choosing god's way instead of ours even when it's hard, even when it's burdensome. resurrection and restoration entered our world 2000 years ago, and the baton has been passed on to his Church. a new age has begun, and new age still awaits. but the Church like Jesus, will only usher in this newness through obedience and suffering. it's the call of the christian.

between the barks

i was at my spot again yesterday off the trail by the creek. after half an hour there, i walked back to the trail and found a dirt path heading in a different direction, so i took it. it led me out to a familiar scene, part of an abandoned golf course where i often run. i was disoriented at first because i wasn't expecting to be there, and then i saw a dog -- a little poop colored chiuaua. it approached me somewhat aggressively, but i wasn't startled... after all, it was only a couple times bigger than our rat. the owner came walking up, and then the dog decided to bark. i started involunarily, which embarrassed me a bit especially when the owner said (with a sardonic grin, i think), "don't worry his bark is bigger than his bite." my thought was, put the little sh*t on a leash or put it out of my misery.

i continued walking. it was a beautiful day; as crisp and sweet as any i've experienced recently. i approached a small bridge that ran over the creek, and noticed red blossoms from the trees above carpeting the ground as if a wedding procession with an overzealous flower girl had just passed. as i approached the end of the course, i heard barking again and a couple of unleashed dogs approached me aggressively. two sh*t hued hounds (dachsunds i believe) ran right up to my ankles, yapping like cocky juveniles might to a homeless man they pass on the street. i stepped back, because even though they couldn't cause serious damage, they were all too close for comfort, and i didn't particularly need a pair of dog slippers after i put my feet up their asses ( but i hadn't counted the idea out either). the owner eventually came out of the backyard apologizing profusely. i accepted graciously and moved on.

it seems to me that there are often annoying dogs nipping at your ankles, barking at you simply because you exist. perhaps the best policy is just to keep walking and enjoy the intervals (however short they may be) between the barks.

the soil of our souls & the cross

so in the last two days i've had to confront two people separately on some serious sh*t. one of them responded with humility, while the other replied with defensive ire. what was the difference? i don't know. i could compare their beliefs about god, forgiveness, and redemption (which i think had something to do with it), but alas, i'll refrain from such assumptions in this assessment. perhaps it was my approach to each of them, or the subject matter.... i don't know. but the differences in their responses got me thinking about the soil of our souls. how ready is the soil of our souls to receive a seed of truth, rebuke, reminding? how ready is mine? i don't know the answer to that either, but the parable of the sower came to mind as i thought it over. it seems appropriate on maundy thursday to share it, since the disciples had heard jesus speak of his death and resurrection time and again, but even during the last days before his crucifixion, they couldn't hear what he was saying. their hearts refused to accept it. you can't really blame them that much. who would have thought that God's strategy for restoring the world and saving his people first entailed humiliation and death? who would think that maybe that's still the strategy for his Church?