paintball parable

there i was sitting peacefully by the creek as they shot rounds yards from my head. dozens of shots were fired as i meditated near the water. i wondered when one stray shot might wiz by my ear or hit me in the back or head or arm. but i stayed still nonetheless and gleaned from this experience the following lesson.

life is hectic. problems, complications, fights, weariness, and sorrow do not end. they have always been here and always will be until restoration has come in its fullness. to transcend these tumultuous times, we must find reprieve in the midst of them. even though we seek sancturary, we must always remember that we cannot leave the battle behind. too much is at stake to surrender to fantasy or fatigue. so our meditation must be sublime to provide relief from the raucus. but it must also be earthy to remind us of the goodness of creation and the fact that it's worth fighting for.

these truths dawned on me as i arose and asked the neighborhood kids to not shoot me with their paintball guns

Damselfly Chronicles?

Okay, so I finally found on the web, the info I've been gaining from observation. As it turns out, the "dragonflies" I've been watching by the creek are actually called, damselflies, and the species is called Ebony Jewelwing (Calopteryx Maculata). If you're interested, see the link below:

http://www.fcps.edu/islandcreekes/ecology/ebony_jewelwing.htm

dragonfly chronicles 3 - Gnats and Oil Spills

I retract my comments from a previous post concerning the gnats and their complete uselessness (I believe I called them a Satanic scouge). The other day, I saw a small dragonfly on my screen, so I put my finger out up under it's legs and got it to perch there. I noticed something hanging from it's mouth about as big as it's head. It was a black bug or gnat or some other kind small flying insect. The dragonfly chewed away at it's prey leaving its small legs on my finger as it ate. I thought for sure it would eat maybe half of the bug and then be done, but alas, it ate the entire thing and then flew away.

This got me thinking about my times by the creek. Often I see one the dragonflies swoop down and eat some small white floating particle, but until now I've assumed it was a piece of falling pollen or something else from the tree above. Now I believe these white floaters to be gnats. This has made me reconsider necessity of gnats. They are in fact the bottom wrung of the food chain and are incredibly annoying, but they serve the purpose of food for the dragonfly and probably many other creatures just above them in the circle of life. It reminds me that ecosystems are delicate and even the smallest of insects which may seem to us useless are probably here for a reason perhaps playing important role in the grandscope of environmental health.

Writing this post makes me ponder the current and/or potential disaster still effusing from the Horizon in the Gulf. So many ecosystems have or will be affected by this crisis, and the reduction or loss of even the smallest of species could have devastating effects.

dragonfly chronicles part 2

So, I was wrong about the dragonflies in my last dragonfly post. As I watched them about a week ago I realized that it was in fact the the male who vigorously fluttered his wings and attached his apendage to the female, and the female who lifted hers to the male's thorax to begin the mating process. Another revelation: the females have the white dot on their black wings while the males do not. After I made this discovery, I watched as a male vigorously defended his mate while she laid her eggs. It seems a number of males tried to approach her as she was in the water, but his sheer fury and tenacity sent them flying in other directions everytime. I think his protectiveness may have drawn him another female who perched above him for a while. He eventually followed her a distance away and mated with her too. She flew a couple feet from his first mate to do her egg laying and for a while he defended that ground as well. But alas it was too much of a stretch and the male dragonflies were too plenty, so he settled for defending only his first love. As a result, his mistress didn't get to spend near as much time in water laying and arranging her eggs.

New Favorite Song

To be alone with you
by Sufjan Stevens

I'd swim across Lake Michigan
I'd sell my shoes
I'd give my body to be back again
In the rest of the room

To be alone with you
To be alone with you
To be alone with you
To be alone with you

You gave your body to the lonely
They took your clothes
You gave up a wife and a family
You gave your ghost

To be alone with me
To be alone with me
To be alone with me
You went up on a tree

To be alone with me you went up on a tree

I've never known a man who loved me

dragonfly dreamworld

If you've frequented my blog at all, you'll know that I've been frequenting a spot about a mile from my house. It's where I go to pray, meditate or otherwise just enjoy the natural beauty of Florida. The drgonfly in the picture here is one of the natural species of these particular woods. You see them everywhere. But a few weeks ago, I saw a few of them in the little area where I often spend time. As I looked around I noticed that two of them were on a leaf in front of me mating. The rather remarkable thing about their mating practice is the fact that their bodies make the shape of a heart when they're together. I was fascinated and watched as immediately after they were done, the female (I presume), laid her eggs at the edge of the creek just out reach of the current. She used her apendage to lay them and then move them as she saw fit. The male stayed on a leaf directly above her. At one point he chased off an incoming dragonfly that came close to the female as she messed with her eggs. It was quite something to witness, I must say.

About a week later I went back to the same spot and found that there were about a dozen of these same species of dragonflies. I brought a camera that time and got the photo above. A few days ago I went again (unfortunately without a camera). This time there were a good 20 of them, and I sat observing them for about 45 minutes. My time waiting and observing paid off greatly. I was able to watch 3 different mating sessions from start to finish, and three different egg layings. The dragonflies seemed to be in somewhat of a mating frenzy and didn't mind my presnece at all. When I arrived I found two of them already in the act of mating as I had seem before. But soon others also began. I managed to figure out when they were about to engage by observing the three sessions that played in a similar fashion. The female (I believe) flaps her wings frantically, almost like a hummingbird until she's right in front of the male she chooses. She seems to glimmer and shine as she hovers right in front of him for a few seconds. Then she attaches her appendage to his neck and he curls his around to her thorax area, thus making the heart shape togehter. They mate for about a minute and then the female heads for the water to lay the eggs.

Amazing as this expereince was, it wasn't over with my observation. As I started to get up to leave, I placed my hand on a rock and a different species of dragonfly landed on me. It stayed for about twenty minutes just sitting there, or when it left, it did so for only a couple seconds and then came back. It was quite a remarkable experience - numinous even.

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?

on the wagon and in the flow

i think i'm back on the wagon again. so far, i ran twice this week. not very far nor very fast, but nonetheless, i was pounding the pavement, which is what really matters. it couldn't have been a nicer day for it. the air was crisp with a slight chill in the breeze, and nary a cloud wandered wanton on the blue canopy above. i ran out to the tree covered trails where the shade abounds and a creek cuts smoothly through, sidewinding by with such languor that it lured me in with effortless ease. i stepped off the trail and sat by the flowing water for quite a while. it's a piece (albeit a very small piece) of old florida out there -before the bulldozers and development; prior to the boom, the bubble and the pop; shaded from the shady commissioners, mayors, realtors and developers who make deals to increase construction and destroy another habitat, another slice of sanity in the midst of this crazy world. but the water flows nonetheless. forest debris, sand, and pebbles are all carried along by the small currents that show up at times as liquid lines, shadows from the sun revealing the delicate dance of an ineffable, inexorable essence...

i ran back home and resolved to continue running.

cynical christian

my brother asked me if a christian should be cynical. i'm not sure i know the answer to that. i have a christian friend who is cynical about everything regarding christianity. he seems to hate the church, almost everyone in it, the way they preach, the way they talk or don't talk, their hypocrisy, their interests, their lack of interest, the music, their emphases, their outreach, their lack of oureach, ... well, you get the idea. granted, the guy has some legitimate points. but i remember something the pastor said from my old home church that was quite profound (and believe me, those moments were few and far between - there i go with my cynicism!). he said something along the lines that if you find a perfect church, don't go in because you'll ruin it. he makes a valid point here. i think if we include ourselves in our cynicism, then maybe we're engaging in nothing more than a bit of realism. however, when we're somehow absent from that equation, then perhaps there's a pride problem.

vulture hats and visibility

so i'm sitting on the couch at my favorite coffee shop today, grading papers when... in struts a rather rotund chap donning a vulture hat (yes, the very same kind as in the photo here - but don't let the attractive lady distract you from the explicit absurdity). all loungers stopped what they were doing and let their eyes follow this somewhat strange fellow as he made his way to order a coffee. i initially thought he was a hired clown about to perform in the courtyard or at a local party, but when i looked at his face as he walked by, i realized this was probably not the case. instead, i perceived in him an emptiness of sorts. though i think he took some satisfaction in the stares he received, there seemed to be a vortexual vacuity behind his eyes. he walked by me, made his way out the door and sat at the rot iron table by the window. i was sitting next to the glass, so i occasionally observed him during the next hour. i noticed that he made sure to meet the eyes of everyone who glanced his way. i couldn't tell if he was looking for a fight or recognition or both, but he certainly intended to provoke a response. he sat outside for quite a while chain smoking and occasionally falling asleep. i wonder if perhaps the man is normally so invisible to the world that this is his way to reappear, to get the looks, the stares, the attention that he needs to verify his existence. despite the dormant look in his eyes, it seems to me quite an ingenuous attempt.

naps: naughty or needful?

i've been on quite a nap kick lately. it's not that i choose to take a nap, it's more like the nap chooses to take me. i'm sitting on the couch grading papers on the computer, and next think you know i'm out. or else i realize the futility of resisting and i curl up all fetal like on our little two seat sofa. or i simiply let my head fall backwards and pass out. it's a recent phenomenon, but i wonder if perhaps since i succombed to it the first few times, my body now demands it everyday. on the one hand i thoroughly enjoy the nap, but then again, i'm losing precious hours that need to be spent working. this is part of the reason i've been making my way to a local coffee shop to do my work, but i've even fallen asleep there. am i on my way toward narcolepsy?! maybe all the sleep deprivation that i've experienced lately is taking me down that road. i've heard that quitting coffee can help increase your energy. don't know if i even want to believe that. but the thing is, when this nap necessity happens, coffee won't even touch it. for now i guess i'll limit the naps, if possible, to 30 mins. sometimes that recharges me enough to get back to work. other times i'm stuck in bed for 1-2 hours. just woke up from a 20, so i better take advantage of my energy and get back to work before it takes me again.

dog porn

I remember a bike ride I took a few months ago. Toward the end of it, I came across two dogs in someone's front yard behind a chain linked fence having sex. There they were right out in the open doing their thing. It seemed kind of bizarre to me. I mean obviously it's perfectly natural, but i guess it was the openness of it that caught me off guard. Here I am riding by, and they see me, but just keep on doing it anyway. There was no running off into the bushes or anything like that. They just.. well, you know.

The awkwardness of it made me reflect on a basic difference between man and animal. You don't see this kind of behavior amongst humans. Even if a couple decides they need new scenery to spice things up, they're going to generally find an isolated place to hook up. And they're not going to look too kindly on anyone interrupting their session. Doubtless you've heard the expression, or seen the bumper sticker "if the van is rockin', don't come a knockin;."

There is quite an enormous exception though when it comes to this human need for coitus concealment...pornography. I say enormous because it's one of the largest money making industries in the world. The purpose of pornography, of course, is to provide erotic stimulus to the purchaser of said entertainment through the exposure of the sexual exploits of others. This industry then makes its money by steering humans away from their innate sense of mating modesty and moving them toward a voyeuristic openness. It seems to me, such a move is a clear behavioral regression. It's a slide downwards away from true humanity toward a more bestial state of being. It's remarkably similar, in fact, to dogs having sex in the front yard behind a chain linked fence.

The Empty Grave (birds and bandwagons part 2)

We're coming up quickly on Holy Week...Easter is a little more than a week away. In light of this fact, I'd like to share a continuation of my previous post (birds and bandwagons). As I mentioned below, I came upon a little injured bird that we took care of until it died the other day. It's body was stiff, and the little tuff on it's head was all fluffed out. I buried it in our backyard. I made quite a to do about it so that my daughter and her cousin could find a little closure in the event. After digging a hole and burying the bird, I constructed a tiny cross out of bamboo and vine that I stuck in the ground just behind the grave. Then I piled rocks on the spot where I buried it. The kids handled it well, especially after seeing the little grave and saying a prayer by it. The next morning before school, they wanted to see the grave again, so I agreed to take them out right before it was time to leave. As I approached I observed the site and cringed. There was a hole where the rocks had been, and the bird was gone. My daughter immediately pinned it on a racoon, and her cousin simply resigned to the fact that "it was his time to go." My mind was moving more in the direction of my daughter's suggestion, but I figured it was more than likely one of the cats.

I must admit that the sight disturbed me. I mean graves are somewhat sacred, or at least taboo.. even the grave of a bird. All I wanted to know was who or what desecrated this site. Kind of silly, I know, but it got me thinking about the following portion of scripture:

"Early on the first day of the week while it was still dark, Mary Magdelene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running...and said 'They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don't know where they have put him'
... but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look in the tomb and saw two angels in white, seatedwhere Jesus' body had been
... They asked her, 'Woman why are you crying?' 'They have taken my Lord away,' she said, 'and I don't know where they have put him.' At this she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize it was Jesus
...'Woman', he said, 'why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?' Thinking he was the gardener, she said, 'Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.' Jesus said to her, 'Mary.'

I've always wondered what took Mary so long to get it. I mean angels are there, Jesus himself even shows up, and she's still asking about the body! What's up with that? I've often wondered. Don't you understand? He's alive. But this experience with the bird has given me new sympathy for the poor lady. I mean once you see something or someone dead, the finality of it sticks to your brain. She saw him dead, and so to her, an empty grave had to mean robbers, theives, or gardeners.

To me it meant racoons, cats, or some other critter. And doubtless, if birds return to their maker, resurrection has been delayed for our little friend, and his body was consumed much quicker than I had intended. But hope springs from empty bird graves marked by crosses and invaded by critters nonetheless. Because though consumption comes to all, the cross and the empty grave give evidence that there was one who couldn't be consumed, even by death and decay. A missing dead bird, a small empty hole and two sticks tied together were reminders to me that death has been defeated, and restoration awaits this earth and resurrection God's people

birds and bandwagons

i haven't run in a week. i don't know why; it simply seems that i've fallen off the wagon for a bit. perhaps i will tomorrow, but i really don't feel so inclined at this point. sometimes i think i'd rather walk. i mean i get the sense that i may be missing something by jogging past it all so quickly (quickly may be a bit of an exaggeration).

i went for a walk the other day after hearing the firetrucks pass our home, and i made a discovery that i may not have made otherwise. i walked down to where i heard all the commotion. there was a fire at a condo down the road from us, but that seemed to me rather incidental. the fireman said it was a relatively small fire so i turned around to walk back home. on my way back, i made the real discovery. i noticed a mockingbird swooping down to peck at another bird that seemed to be grounded on the concrete below. i almost kept going, but i felt compelled to check it out. a little bird, a cedar waxwing crescent, had apparently been knocked out of the sky by the mocking bird and suffered some injury that prevented it from flight. i guess the bully bird wasn't content with his victory, but rather continued harrassing the little one as it struggled to regain footing. i got very close to the crescent yet he didn't fly away. so i reached down, picked him up and walked the rest of the way back with him. when i got to the house, i found a shoebox, put holes in it, and made him a little home and some sunflower seeds for dinner. my daughter and her cousin were thrilled to have our guest.

yesterday it looked as though he was getting better. he seemed perkier and ready to try out his wings. so we gave him the opportunity out front, but he couldn't do it. he hopped and fluttered but only mangaged to make it a couple feet in the air. my wife located the small wound on the inside portion of his left wing. we decided then that we would take him the next day to the "bird lady", a local woman who specializes in helping injured birds. but when i checked on him this morning, he was dead.

given my intro, perhaps you were expecting a happier ending to this story. but regardless of how it ended, the truth is, had i been running, i would have missed the opportunity to even attempt to rescue the bird. not all rescue attempts succeed, but i think most of them are worth trying.
i'm still not convinced to hang up my running shoes, but slowing down a bit is probably a good idea.

Highway Hypocrisy

I became starkly aware of my own hypocrisy today. As I drove, I noticed that a car in front of me didn't speed up enough to prevent some interloper from butting in line to make a right hand turn for which the rest of us were waiting patiently . I was pissed at the man who presumptously passed this line of cars to esteem himself and his schedule more than the rest of us and ours, and I was none too happy with the guy in front of me for not driving more assertively to prevent such a usurper. But it soon settled on me that the driver that cut in front of us all could very well have been me on another day. After all, I've done the same thing many times. In fact, I even get irritated with drivers who try to prevent me from making such an obnoxious maneuver (drivers like me). I guess on any given day I can play the cop or the criminal. Oh...the double standard!