A few days ago I attended a community meal at a friends house.  It’s been quite awhile since I’ve really participated in a community meal, especially one so eclectic.  I had so many mixed emotions during our meal together.

Off hand, I loved it. It was nice to meet an entire new group of individuals. A year ago, dinners such as these happened fairly frequently, without effort. But with my recent job transition and the general state of my life it has become more rare.   That truth alone rang odd to me. Three years ago had you asked me to picture my life today and I would have described for you an exact replica of last night: friends and strangers conversing over dinner, investing in one another, confined chaos encompassed by love; surrounded by all the intricacies that one could only imagine possible by of a group of bohemian nomads that have pitched a tent within the confines of an old Victorian home in the city.

It doesn’t take much examination of my current life to realize that such evening is not reflective of my typical days. And to some extent, this doesn’t bother me. I am, for the most part, pleased with my life. I’m not disappointed in my choices and of those that I am, well I have found peace of mind in those ways I’ve grown through reconciliation. 

So why has the evening lingered with me? To some degree, I am still drawn to such a life – one of continual randomness, free from the longevity of responsibility and accountability.  But I know that, at least in the way displayed last night, it’s not for me.  My flaws grow too rapidly in such an environment, isolated in a feeding ground of security. Simultaneously, the values and motivations that fuel these lifestyles are ones, which I hold close to my heart.

This is the question I am most daunted by: How do I keep alive what I hold most important without the radical ways in which I always assumed they’d manifest? The career I have chosen, I believe in strongly.  My talents are most utilized in situations where I can examine and work towards improving the root issues that thwart community and hospitality.  However, I recognize that my job is only important if accompanied by practitioners, such as those that I shared a meal with.  And congruently, I am only healthy when challenged and asked to participate sometimes by those practitioners as well.

It seems my life has very few practitioners right now.  I have several good friends, but few individuals that share my enthusiasm for extending constant invitation to the “others”, the “new”, and the “random”. The work I do in my career must be matched by the encouragement and accountability of those applying that work in my personal life in order for me to be the healthiest version of me as I can.

My life isn’t what I’d imagined, but it’s not unexpected either. I am thankful my life doesn’t look like what I thought it would, but I also recognize the fine line I walk, flirting with my weaknesses. I must do a better job of surrounding myself with those individuals that remind me that comfort and love come in packages larger than circles of friends.

-Bobs

its christmas time and I find myself surrounded by lights and bells and christmas cheer.

Last night I attended the art museums Winter Solstice celebration. It was a simple time with a good mix of unique activities like winter greenhouse browsing and some more seasonal ones, like live ice sculptors.

This winter has begun at a steady pace, which I appreciate. Today was the Homeless Memorial Service. Its a time when we honor the lives of those homeless neighbors who passed away.  This is the fourth memorial service I've attended and the one thats hit me the hardest.  I knew several of those that passed and the injustices of their struggle haunt me.

Our mayor spoke from the pulpit - probably the least honorable part of the service. He pretends to put his heart on his sleeve, but when you get close you'll notice the legislation and policies he supports don't view our neighbors in a respectful and dignifying manner. It is always a frustrating time... the memorial service. There are a hodge-podge of individuals that gather. Some are service providers, some are currrently homeless neighbors, and others are politicians and camera men whose job demands a public presence.

Today illuminates many of my personal struggles - among those is my continual battle with politics and its role in our community. When does it matter? When doesn't it? But today was difficult for a larger reason than politics.

It can best be understood by the explanation of the man I sat next to during the service.  I sat next to a neighbor whom I know all too well. He has lived on the streets for years and years now. He is one of the few who blatantly choose to live on the streets. And its easy for me to get frustrated at him, but when the sun sets, whats so wrong with his choice? Sure, I think its insane, but to many others my life doesn't add up either.

He represents an extremely small percent of the population, but his story matters nonetheless. He is the king of homelessness. He knows every major player in the service industry. Each day we have ten to fifteen new homeless individuals walk through our doors... and this man connects with each of them. He helps show them the ropes, sometimes more quickly than our agency can. I don't understand his choice, but he greets me each day with a pleasant smile and a heart that I truly believe cares about me and the well being of his fellow homeless friends.

During the service he cried several times and I wondered what ran across his mind. Did he wonder if this time next year his life might be different? Did he consider whether or not his name would be on that list next year? Or was his mind full only of his friends memories, his friends from the streets that he lost this year? I dont know all the many motivations that pushed his tears further down his cheeks, but I know what motivations kept mine from a close break.

My emotions trembled from confusion. Today was a mixed day in which I was a witness to many things... all of which leads me to remember that in the end, there is so much I really don't know or understand.

• I witnessed love today. I was baffled by the encounter and amazed at how a simple gesture can change the path of another persons day.
• I witnessed hate today. Also baffled by the encounter - I stumbled over a response.
• I witnessed mourning today - for friends, family members, and those unknown.
• I witnessed giving - of hugs, of food, of presents, of tears, of trust, of hope, of life.
• I witnessed haste - in patience and listening.
• I witnessed confusion...
• I witnessed community...
• I witnessed greed...
• I witnessed lies coming to life...
• and I witnessed truth avenging.

I witnessed...

and today what I am most thankful for is the miracle that I was able to. I believe the miracle that I am. What more could I ask to comprehend or encompass this christmas season?
b

Listening is the way of love.

Yesterday I stumbled into playing a guest role in the life of perfect stranger… and somehow, unexpectedly; she wound up playing an important role in mine. 

Among the many to do items on my list for the day was visiting a government office to close a business account for work. This task, more than any other, was the most dreadful. Each time I deal with this office there are new protocols or lost paper work or [insert numerous amounts of mishaps that amount to your typical interaction with bureaucracy at its best]. Needless to say, as I approached the office I was fairly jaded that I drew the short straw at work.

I did the usual dance, visiting three offices to accomplish a single task. Thirty minutes later I was on my way out the door, feeling elated to have officially closed our business account with this organization. On my way to the parking lot I was stopped by an employee who had earlier assisted me.

“Excuse me, excuse me sir – you work for…”

In fear that something was overlooked or there was a mistake made, the thought did cross my mind to lie – to run for the door and never look back. Luckily for me I did not run. Rather I inhaled deeply, pushed that urge far from mind and turned to face her, “Yes ma’am. I do.”

“Could I speak with you a moment?”
“Sure.”
“What is your position there?”
“I’m the Community Relations Coordinator. Why do you ask?”

She looked at me a bit baffled, “Well I don’t know what that all means, but I need to ask you a question.” Off hand I was a bit confused, but I approached her desk nonetheless.  The employee continued by asking me if I had seen her younger brother, explaining that he’d been missing for a few weeks.  She knew that for several years he’d received help at the agency where I serve.

“I am sorry", I expressed, "for confidentiality purposes I am not legally permitted to share with you whether he receives services at our facility.”

As I spoke tears welled up in her eyes. She held her pointer finger out in front of me, waiving frantically, “Just a minute, just a minute.” She pulled a picture from her billfold, “Now he was thirteen in this picture… but he still looks the exact same. I don’t need to know about what is going on with him, I just need to know he is alive and okay.”

At this point, she began to tremble. I could read the thoughts invading her mind as she imagined all the horrible possibilities encompassing his well-being. 

“Just shake your head if you’ve seen him, just shake your head.”, she pleaded.

A lump gathered in my throat as her pain and worry became real to me. “Ma’am, I am truly sorry… but I can’t.”

She tried to whisper, ducking her head behind her computer, wiping the streaming tears from her eyes and cheeks, “I don’t want nobody to know, but I beg you. He always calls me and lets me know he’s okay, but he didn’t even call over the holidays. He never does that. He’s the kindest boy. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Can you just tell me if he picked up his paycheck from there – then I’d know he’s okay. Can you just tell me…”

I stood with her at the desk for more than fifteen minutes as she shared her brothers’ life with me. Eventually her pleas became stories, glimpses of the past, descriptions of his character, heart, and soul.  Each time she’d catch her breath another memory would come to mind and she’d begin sharing and crying again.

Eventually as she paused I did my best to comfort her, “I am so sorry Ms. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you and your family, especially this time of year.”

With each story it became more difficult not to break and give her some reassurance that I’d seen him. But even if I could, I would not have been able to bring good news. The more she described her brother and his physical handicap; I realized that I did indeed know him. He came regularly to our facility, although I hadn’t recalled seeing him lately.

“God brought you to me sir. I believe He brings people into our lives for a reason and of all the offices you coulda gone to, you came here. I am sorry I’ve just gone on and on. You didn’t want to hear all that. But God knew I needed your shoulder, your strength, to lean on. I don’t know what you believe, but I believe that.”

She looked at me, waiting for my response.

“I believe listening is the way of love." 

Without realizing it, I effortlessly opened my heart to her story. I felt her sorrow. I listened. I stood in that brink of discomfort and stared into the black hole of unknowns... "And I don’t mind at all", I looked her in the eyes, wanting to make sure she knew I saw her and all that consumed her in that moment, "it’s been my pleasure to hear about your brother and I am glad you shared with me.”

There I stood - in the middle of a bustling, disheveled government agency that I despise - united with a perfect stranger as she longed and loved her brother and I in turn, loved her.

Not even a year ago this would have been a struggle for me. Listening and empathizing and being present in such a moment would have required an intentionality and focus that was something short of natural. But yesterday, it came effortlessly.  I held her hand and expressed that her family would be in my thoughts this week.

Walking out of the building I was overwhelmed by the presence of pain… pain that wasn’t mine to own or to fix. Rather it was pain that I absorbed in an effort to understand and love.

Listening is the way of love. It has taken two key figures in my life to engrain this truth into my heart. I am thankful for their patience and wisdom. But most of all I am thankful for the employee I met and for the opportunity I had to experience the power of transcendent love.

I hope my heart can get better at recognizing the opportunities it has to love. And that I'll continue to be brave enough to take part in them when they do grace my presence.

Bobs

Today I heard a pretty disheartening sermon. A pastor was broaching the topic of homosexuality - calling the church to apologize for how they've treated the GLBT community. For a moment I was hopeful that this pastor would defy the stereotype that embodies the Christian church. Unfortunately, he did not.

The sermon only further fueled alienation through words of arrogance, self-righteousness, and moral authority.The pastor encouraged folks to not hold members of the GLBT community in contempt for their lifestyle. Removing his plea from the context of his sermon, it seems a noteworthy and courageous message. However, in context his sermon was condescending and contradictory.  He stood before a crowd of followers and without doubt, professed homosexuality an absolute sinful way to live. With that underlying belief it is impossible to bridge the gap between these two communities... especially when using phrases such as, "...living a gay lifestyle".

The most frustrating thing about his sermon was not the pervasive and degrading message that homosexuality is wrong and a byproduct of brokenness and choice. But it was how that message was packaged - the way he framed it. Purposeful or not, it was deceitful.

The pastor used his position of spiritual authority to dictate his interpretation of right and wrong to an audience who, pardon my presumption, but after observing the patterns in history, will most likely not conduct any personal research to truly find what they believe.

The pastor mentioned one argument used to "defend" the gay lifestyle was by pointing out that the figure of Jesus was never quoted speaking against homosexuality. His rebuttal to that argument was Jesus never spoke about many things that we know are wrong.

What I'd really like to address with the pastor is how Jesus led his followers. When asked questions of moral absolutes, Jesus almost always responds with a question. He taught by providing a safe place where individuals could seek the truth for themselves!  So how, in good consciousness, can this pastor misuse Jesus words to influence and further his moral agenda? Just by claiming that homosexuality is absolutely wrong a foundation is created making it impossible to remove judgment and approach people with agenda free love.

I would like to believe in the goodwill of this pastor, however all hope was completely dispelled by the manner in which he ended his sermon. As the pastor introduced communion at the end of the service he told congregation members that if anyone would like prayer they may go to the back of the sanctuary where people wait for them.  "And if you choose to go for prayer", he said, "no one here will think your gay..." When he said the word "gay" he actually changed his tone and said it in the slang, school yard way used by kids as an insult. His mockery completely undermined everything he'd just said. Just by saying that word with such an inflection - in such an off the cuff way... it only reinforces the contempt he had just spoke against!

Needless to say, I was frustrated. Firstly, I was frustrated that the message that homosexuals are sinful individuals who live broken lifestyles was again perpetuated. It is astounding to me that people continue to believe this, considering no one has been able to provide any examples of the self-destructive fruits they claim manifests from the GLBT lifestyle. Time and again folks will tell you that its not God intended and its hurtful, but what happens when those individuals meet a member of the GLBT community who shatters that myth? What happens when they meet a homosexual who is not suffering, whose not hurting and filled with sorrow, but rather they are joyful, peaceful, and spirit-filled! 

Secondly, I was frustrated by the pastors lack of humility. He has been granted so much authority and to use it to propagate personal beliefs surrounding such a difficult issue - especially one that interferes with the well-being and freedom of so many human lives...  it is careless and disappointing.

Lastly, the pastors slip at the end of the sermon and his inflection saying the word "gay" further illustrated that unless you believe homosexuals are no different and are created in the same spirit of love and rightness as heterosexuals then its impossible to truly  approach them without some degree of contempt, much less the love like that that Jesus exemplified.

As I poured out my frustrations to my close friend, he listened quietly and then responded with one loving sentence, "I am sorry to hear that." It was then I realized I'd allowed my frustration and anger to control me for a few hours. I allowed those false feelings to hide my disappointment. I am thankful for this friend, who in one sentence, his first response, was that of compassion. He brought me to the only response that can heal our society - sorrow, compassion, and love. 

I have a wonderful, joyful life and I am content in who and what I am. Silly me for giving control over to the only real self-destructive act, anger. I do hope that each person will discover the one-ness that makes us all - straight, gay, black, white, male, female, Muslim, Jew, or Taoist - brothers and sisters of the same family. 

-bobs

"I learned this, at least by my experiment;
That if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams,
And endeavors to live the life which he has imagined,
He will meet with a success unexpected in common hours...

In proportion as he simplifies his life,
The laws of the universe will appear less complex,
And solitude will not be solitude,
Nor poverty, poverty,
Nor weakness, weakness.

If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost;
That is where they should be.
Now put foundations under them."
- From Walden Pond Thoreau 1828-1862


Perhaps the most difficult part of working towards your dreams is building a foundation for them. This past year I have worked more intentionally towards my dreams -more so than ever before. Its not uncommon for me to rattle off big ideas, but rarely do actions follow them, especially if those actions require longevity.  I am very intentional in my relationships and communications with others, but until this last year I have not been intentional in working towards reaching my dreams.

I don't plan my personal life very far in advance with much detail. But this past year I realized there are many steps I could take that would help me to build a foundation for my castle sky ideas, that don't necessarily require a commitment to a blue-print (which is always a great fear... I don't like being nailed down to a rigid plans). Rather, the actions I could implement would be more disciplinary in nature... guidelines that will provide me a solid foundation that will support my castle no matter the modifications that may be made along my journey.

This past year I have felt a strong urge to become more discipline in planning for my future and I think my desire to do so revolves, in large part, to finally realizing that I want a future. Now this may seem odd, but its the truth. My laize fair attitude has always gotten me by, but its never planted me anywhere. I drift from one thing to the next and hope everything works out. To some degree, this isn't a problem... but like everything in life its a double edge sword that requires balance.

Until this last year, I had never seen a future for myself. I had many ideas about what I could do and where I could end up - but each were as likely as the other and just about as appealing. There are many people that challenge me, but one in particular sharpens my mind and cultivates my heart daily.  One of the greatest lessons I've learned from her is how to be disciplined and proactive about my dreams. She knows what she wants and talks often about  how she will get there. She see's her future. And she thinks regularly about what foundations she's creating so that twenty years from now she can have it.

I have an enormous fear of commitment, in part because I have a large fear of disappointment - and the two often walk hand in hand. My fear of commitment was so deep, that I have always been too cowardly to latch onto my dreams and run towards them.  And its somewhat ironic that in my professional career I can set the largest goals and not blink an eye. My personal life however, is a different story. My only guess is that in the grand scheme of things work has never been personal enough for me to be afraid of its loss.

But over this past year I've worked very hard at putting that all aside. I've been taking steps towards chasing my dreams. As I set aside my fears and simplify my life I find things happening, just as Thoreau has wisely wrote... things become less complex and success slowly comes in uncommon hours... and I'd like to add, in uncommon ways.

I hope you all have the courage to build foundations for your castles in the skies - otherwise we'll have one hell of a city above our heads that we can never visit.
-Bobs

Today at church we had a baptism. The church I attend is quite an eclectic church - very different from the one which I was raised. Although the ritual was incompatible to those I grew up witnessing, they still echoed the same familiar purpose and joy. Like those of my childhood, it was an opportunity, acknowledgment, and dedication of one persons aspirations to connect and express the holy... and an invitation for the community to support them in their endeavors.

This mornings baptism however, stopped there. It didn't delve into attaining salvation or proclaiming victory over evil - and for those reasons, I attend this church as often as I can. I was able to get my hands on a copy of the service and transcribed it below.  Because of the church's diversity, this was written specifically for the individuals baptism. There are a few sections that I don't necessarily connect with, but the over-arching message resonates deeply with my heart and own personal expression of Source: 


"Today we share in a celebration of rebirth and new beginnings. We do this through the sacrament of baptism. A sacrament is an outer, visible, and physical symbol of an inner, spiritual and emotional transformation.

At The Church Within, that transformation finds meaning in three Truths: There are many paths to your personal awareness and experience of God; that all people are holy; and that only love – that harmonizing, unifying power of the universe – is ultimately real.


Let us pray:
God, because you are the source of all life and love and being, we call you Creator.

Because we know the history of your presence among all peoples, we call you Sovereign.

Because we are your children and we know you intimately and can speak of you so, we call you Father.

Because you are present in the act of birth and because you shelter, nurture and care for us, we call you Mother.

Because you hold us up and give us strength and courage when we are in need, we call you Sustainer.

Because you have known us in our pain and suffering, we call you Comforter.

Because you are the means of liberation and the way of freedom, we call you Deliverer.

Because you have chosen tot care for us and about our common lot; because your love has shown us how to live a new and full life, we call you Redeemer.

Confident of your presence in our lives, we call upon you with our hearts and minds, assured of your love and compassion for all persons. Amen.


[Addressing Congregation]
This celebration is a sharing within community. {Person being baptized}, you share with us this special moment, this acknowledgement of the on-going cycles of your life’s journey.

We- this church and congregation – share with you a covenant of love and support. We offer it unconditionally. We hope that your belief in this covenant will support you in finding, within yourself, an expression of the Divine and the knowledge of yourself as a beloved child of God.

We pledge to you that we will always look beyond appearances to behold your indwelling Divine Spirit.  In so doing, we encourage you to express this perfect Self through your words and actions.

We will listen to your dreams, understand your doubts, acknowledge your efforts, support your hopes, walk with you through your fears, laugh with you, play with you, and grow with you through all your days.

We commit ourselves to share the Truth with you in love, to nurture and nourish our own personal relationship with God so that you might come to know, through our example, that your relationship with God, our Source, is now and will always be your primary relationship. And so it is.


[Reverend dips hands in blessed water]
I baptize you in the name of God our Father/Mother, that Spirit of Truth in whom we live and move and have our being;

[Reverend dips hands in blessed water again]
And of God the Son, the Eternal Christ, ever-present in every person and in all creation;

[Reverend dips hands in blessed water again]
And of God the Holy Spirit, the ever un-folding power of love, wisdom, and understanding that guides and supports our every step. Amen. "



After the baptism someone led meditation and prayer in which they said:
"Be still and know that I Am God.
Be still and know that I Am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be."

I've never broken down that phrase to such an extent, but each word is so full of intention and power.
Today I shall practice "being" a bit more.

- bobs

Last night I grabbed a few drinks with some long lost friends at a local watering hole. One of the two is a die hard philosopher and so by the end of conversation the topics had of course swayed towards defining truth and deconstructing mysticism.

At one point we stumbled into the looming process of defining rhetoric - specifically defining the word ambiguity. As we each took a stab the conversation became less about philosophy and more about communication.

Lately the importance of communication has been extracted from my life in a variety of contexts.  Just when I think my opinion differs from that of another, I realize that it is not my opinion but my definitions and vocabulary that pose opposition.  Our experiences and connotations with words frame the way we interpret and construct our lives - and more often then not it is also what seems to cause strain and fragmentation among people.

With numerous tangents of thought dancing about in my head, I got home and stuck in the movie Mona Lisa Smiles. During one scene an art professor approached a painting by Jackson Pollock. Her students stared at the paint dribbled on canvas and began to mock it. The professor taught a lesson with a single sentence for the day. "You don't have to write about it. You don't even have to like it. But you do have to consider it."

When I take into account the times I have been frustrated by a situation my underlying complaint seems to always be that people don't take time to even consider it, whatever it may be.  We assume so much. Even simple things like how we each define the same word.

I am not quite sure when we began excusing ourselves from considering the possibilities filling the category of "the other". Perhaps it was around the same time we stopped taking the time to communicate well and ask one another, "What do you mean by the word ambiguity?" 

We share this earth with many other people. There really is no such thing as "my" life. Our lives are interconnected and continually impact the people that grace our days - and even those that don't. So to the same extent that it is our responsibility to be accountable for how we drive our cars on the road or spend the hours of our workday - it is also our responsibility to consider the countless other possibilities that exist beyond our notion of right and wrong.

As it turns out, my philosophical buddy and I have more in common than we realized; we just defined the word "Ambiguity" differently. Every time we used the word we both were discussing something different then what we thought the other was. 

To truly love one another better and offer the respect to one another that we ourselves feel entitled too, we must begin practicing the art of considering the other a little bit more.


Who knows, in the end we might just discover that more unites us then defines us.
b

My heart is heavy with more concerns than it knows what to do with.  A friend reminded me recently that I must have patience with the process. I just wish there were only one process occurring right now that I needed patience for.

Friends laughter fills the porch outside and for numerous reasons I can't bring myself to go outside and join in. Laughter doesn't cover the sadness these days.  I am peaceful in my sorrow, which is, for me, comforting.  Beacuse when your peaceful in your sorrow at least you know its where you should be. 

Author Victor Frankl wrote about finding meaning in suffering. His words come to mind often these days. “If there is a meaning in life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering.  Suffering is an ineradicable part of life, even as fate and death.  Without suffering and death human life cannot be complete.” - Mans Search For Meaning

Wendall Berry also talks about suffering. Its in a different context, but he talks about the work and sweat that goes into plowing a field. Paraphrasing, he says that eating the food wouldnt be as great had you not suffered through the work of growing it. His parable I believe to be an accurate and valid point to all suffering. When joy comes, it will be more grand because I will have seen that joy through from start to finish... with all the ups and downs.


my triumph will be greater.
b.

a homeless neighbor passed away last night...

Good guy - very intelligent. Nice, polite, and he mainly kept to himself.  He lived in a secluded "tent town" that is fairly tucked away. Nobody really knows exactly where - they keep it hidden so it doesn't get raided. But we know somewhere out there, it exists, just off the rivers bank. Alcohol was his weakness, until last night, when it became the cause of his death. His fellow comrade couldn't wake him up this morning... they'd been homeless together for years.

Another neighbor was sent to the hospital yesterday afternoon. She has several mental health conditions and self medicates  with copious amounts of alcohol. Her intoxication level was at a life threatening point, so we had to send her to the ER.  In her bag we found an giant empty bottle of mouth wash and an empty pint of whiskey.  On a normal day I see her around our family room about five times. I would average that about three of the five times I bump into her a day she is crying... everyday, in our facility, pacing around, red face, streaming tears. I can't fathom the sadness she must carry, the fear that must consume her to such an extent that her body never rests from crying.

Right behind her we took another neighbor to the hospital. If our state had public mental health facilities, she would be committed.  But we don't, so she continues to suffer from severe mental and physical health issues. It seems one is dependent on the other and so in her frail condition she is unable to keep up with her own care.  In a downward cycle of deteriorating health she sits in our family room and has accidental bowl movements. Whatever dignity she once possessed seems lost after the fourth chair has been ruined in less than two weeks.

My inability to sit with such heavy sadness directed me towards investing in a false anger. I went to the basement and lifted weights - hoping the anger would disperse itself through my sweat, but it didn't.  I need to be reminded of something beautiful, something that will remind me of the duality of love. A good friend always snaps his fingers and says with a grin, "Just remember, things change... like that!" So I bench pressed keeping that in mind during all thirty repetitions.

I'm wondering more and more if its not that things around me change, but rather if it is I that change within them.  During lunch yesterday a colleague asked me if I thought things had always been this bad or if time had slowly revealed more to me. After much deliberation, my guess is that things have always been the way they are, but over time I have grown and in my growth have been able to see more.  At first glance those new sights seem overwhelming; but there is hope. There must be hope. I've seen it before... the unmistakable presence of life-giving, restorative, living love. 

And so I will continue and learn to sit in this moment filled with pain because over time, as I grow, I'll trust that my eyes will once again see the hope thats always been present. Eventually, I will change.

-b

I recently watched the movie Into The Wild.  I don't think the book was adapted very well into a screenplay, but criticisms aside, I did appreciate the general overtone and message of the film.

For those who have not yet seen the movie or read the book, it is a true story about Chris, a young adult who comes from an abusive and dysfunctional family.  Upon graduation he chooses to search for truth and the meaning of life by abandoning all possessions, cutting all connections to his family and friends, and heading out on the open road with only his spiritual convictions and a longing to attain that which is real.

He begins his journey by noting, "If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason then the possibility of life is destroyed."

By the end of the movie Chris summed up his journey by scribbling this profound insight:

"Happiness only real when shared."



By all accounts, I couldn't agree more with Chris and would like to expand his qualitative tool for measuring the reality of happiness further into the realm of communal living.  Admittedly, I am a terrible sharer. Such truths are difficult to confess being an outspoken advocate for communal living. But Ive realized that I am, in fact, a terrible community member.

When the topic of sharing is applied to materialistic things, I am rather great at giving and sharing.  But material items have no value to me. I live rather simply and don't really hoard much so the giving and sharing of things aren't really such a sacrifice for me.

Sharing feelings however, is a whole other ball game.  I am terrible at sharing my (or in others) struggles, disappointments, happiness, or joys. Over the past few years I've recognized that I don't process or talk about my feelings much and am proud to say that I've made grave improvements. What I've discovered more recently though, is there is a difference between acknowledging and telling someone your feelings and sharing them.

When you tell someone something, your just creating an awareness. But when you share something, you give away control and become co-owners.  When sharing there is more vulnerability at stake because you are not just admitting something, but offering a gift of sorts.  Such an action is frightening and requires a lot of trust!

Because such, I don't share, just tell.  My feelings have been mine and sometimes, I'll let you know about them. But not much about that philosophy is communal. I believe when you share your disappointments, sorrows, struggles, successes, and joys, there is an opportunity created for the knitting together of souls.

No longer are you just letting someone know about your life, but your allowing them to participate in it. There is something very powerful about this act. I dont think sharing necessarily solves all the problems that may be at hand, but it does open a doorway for trust, fellowship, and love... and I'd like to think that somehow always makes things a bit better.

Sharing in this manner does not come naturally for me. It does for some and to those folks I look to in envy, while I am sure they are looking back in confusion wondering how I function. Nonetheless, in our anomaly, we exist - and so it is my goal to learn how to share more. This requires not only allowing folks to be aware and take part in my emotional qualms, but to also ask and be willing to participate in theirs.

I don't have a strategic plan for this process. There are small things that add up, of which I will work on, but for the most part I am relying heavily on meditation, the accountability of friends, and guidance from the Ground Source of All Being. I dont really understand how to move forward, but I know that I must... and so I am opening my mind and heart to the tug of the uncomfortable.

For me, all this revolves around a singular goal to love. I desire to improve this aspect of my life because its how I will learn to love better. Much of my hesitancy towards sharing stems from my inability to trust people and lean towards faith and the mystic nature of love. 

Awhile back I was disappointed by someone in my life - and in reaction I quickly hid behind my walls. In her response to our conversation, I found the charge, the turning point, that has encouraged me to come from behind my wall and begin to examine and change the patterns that hinder love and community rather than build it.

“I will not abandon you. And I will not back away from you. And I will continue to love you, even in my imperfection and in my ignorance and in my indecision. I hope that you will let me. And I hope that you'll continue to do the same.”

My deepest desire is to learn how to live - towards this - each day, in spite of the hiccups I may encounter along the way.
-bobs

"Matt is a 31-year-old deadbeat from Connecticut who used to think that all he ever wanted to do in life was make and play videogames. Matt achieved this goal pretty early and enjoyed it for a while, but eventually realized there might be other stuff he was missing out on. In February of 2003, he quit his job in Brisbane, Australia and used the money he'd saved to wander around Asia until it ran out..."

I've watched the video several times now. They make me believe in all the things folks say I shouldn't... they make me hope again.
Enjoy!

b

ps - Matt's website is: www.wherethehellismatt.com

In any given circumstance my fall-back is to live within the confines of my head. When I can’t comprehend feeling and I am not sure how to answer the haunting question, What next?, I respond by abandoning my heart and taking up residency in my head. There it is safe, logical, and fairly easy to navigate. There are no surprises and most importantly no emotions.  And so in difficult times or during new experiences you’ll often find me sticking safely within the boundaries of analytical reason occupying my mind.

However there are weeks, like the past few, when no amount of reason satisfies. There are weeks when questions topple over on themselves and in the face of multiple rights and wrongs logic becomes an inadequate tool for steering myself through the choices that lie ahead. In moments such as these I am thankful for a divine wisdom that settles quietly into my day until I acknowledge its presence. This time around Great Wisdom placed one phrase at the forefront of my mind, holistic living. 

 “Each moment is just what it is.”  - Pema Chodron, The Wisdom of No Escape and the Path of Loving – Kindness

Holistic living is a truth-bearing path that is more profound than the bumper sticker ways in which I tend to apply it. Holistic living requires we understand that each moment is simply and indefinably exactly what it presents itself to be. And while logic has its place, so does mysticism – and each moment offered in this life is complete with a little of both.  Logic might explain how something happened, but it will never provide the complete answer to why.

“You’re always standing in the middle of sacred space, standing in the middle of the circle.”  - Pema Chodron, The Wisdom of No Escape and the Path of Loving – Kindness

Every moment is an opportunity to be engulfed in the very heart and center, the breath and seed of life.  Its my firm belief (and perhaps worst habit) that practicing holistic living; becoming mindful not only of lives interconnectivity, but moreover our own… allowing our mind, heart, soul, and physical being to work together to experience and interpret every moment, is the way Truth is revealed to us.  I believe it often starts by centering on the simple notion that every moment Is and simultaneously, We Are. And because such, we will always discover that we’ve been resting within the middle of the circle, within Sacred Truth, the entire time. It Is, We Are, so now, this very moment is Sacred – it’s living, breathing Truth. It is the Divine, Unknowable - Known, breath-taking Beauty… the Great I Am.

One of my greatest barriers to living a holistic life (besides my ever present ego) is grasping the concept that whether I like it or not my emotions effect logic and vice versa. I am an emotional, spiritual, rational, and physical being.  Therefore my experiences, uncertainties, and answers must be sought out interdependently among all those characteristics. Escaping into my mind isn’t fruitful or healthy. Logic isn’t my entire being and that is precisely why logic will never be able to provide me with a complete understanding of Truth.

“Mysticism is essentially a belief that reality is oneness.”  - Scott Peck, Road Less Traveled

I like to think myself a mystic, but truth be told I am far too compartmentalized to truly understand the oneness of self, much less the grandeur of all lives essential oneness.  As of late I have been attempting to respond to my emotions with logic and in the process I’ve only led myself deeper into a pit of turmoil. My frustrations, along with my joys, are multi-dimensional and require that I approach them humbly, with all my being, not just the mind.

Holistic living is practicing oneness. Oneness is the art of living truth. And living truth is what unveils our eyes to help us see that we’ve always been resting in the Center of Sacredness. I spend countless hours searching for Truth, seeking Wisdom, and creating sacred space only to discover that all along heaven has been right here on earth and so has the Divine. If only I’d allow myself to occupy all my being, rather than just portions at a time, then perhaps I’d experience this perfect moment that was and is and forever shall be the Sacred Center, the Seed of Life, waiting to welcome me home.

Greet your days well my friends. Approach them with loving-kindness, great compassion, and quiet humility…

They have so much in store for you.
- Bobs

“It is about finding our own true nature and speaking from that, acting from that. Whatever our quality is, that’s our wealth and our beauty; that’s what other people respond to.”

The Wisdom of No Escape and the Path of Loving – Kindness , By Pema Chodron


Finding our own true nature and speaking from that...

sometimes its so much harder then it sounds, but I am working on it.



b

Hospitality:  An alternative to the current methodology for loving. Or as I understand it, a return to origin.
Hospitality shouldn't be an alternative, it should be the way.

I was first introduced to the concept of hospitality by a friend of mine who pastors in the area. He has been advocating for over a decade now for faith based organizations and service providers to accept the "beyond charity challenge". His sentiments resonate deeply with other brilliant minds such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Henry Nouwen.

Years ago when I began to learn about hospitality as an alternative model for providing social services I was too young and naive to comprehend its full implications. Since that time I've spent a great deal of energy immersing myself in literature, as well as working with and through organizations that use this paradigm of service. More directly, the past two years have been riddled with lessons as I attempt to wrap my head around what redemptive social action means not only for social service agencies, but the demand it poses to communities and... dare I say, myself.

I've become so entrenched in the possibilities of hospitality that I overlooked just how difficult it could be to create steps that teach folks how to use a new model... especially folks raised in a society grounded in efficiency and entitlement.  How can we change our models for service into a more fruit-bearing alternative for our community and the neighbors we serve?  As I've listened to my co-workers and other seasoned social service veterans there is one thing I have learned for sure... the only sustainable change must come by way of leadership, persistence, grace, passion, and dedication. 

As I walk through the halls at work day in and day out these are the words that haunt me: persistence, grace, passion, and dedication.  If I desire for our communities model for service to change, then I must be the among the first to exemplify it. And it is not just social service agencies that can benefit from enacting hospitality, but every individual within a neighborhood. There is much to learn about this eleven lettered word. Within it is so much to unpack, so much to be humbled by...

b.

My absence has been, well, long.

What can I say, as many things that are happening and as monumental as they are, my ability to process any of it seems to have alluded me for the past few months now.

Emotionally I just feel a bit blank. Do you think there is such a thing as using up all your emotions? Between relationships, my health, and family, (not to mention beginning to work all the time again) I find myself at a loss to breathe, much less meditate or connect with self. The balance has swung too far to the right again.  I've began to back-peddle into my wayward habits of pushing aside all those needs that swell up within... those needs that just sit and await contemplation, my process for sorting spirit and place.

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."  ~ Anatole France

Most of what has been taking place in my life is longed for and I step towards it with a grin. However, just as Anatole mentions above, all changes have their melancholy and I haven't fully worked through mine yet. Perhaps I'll take some time to practice my sitting tonight, before I begin the evenings adventures.

Of all the things happening in my life, none are as grand as the re-shaping of identity and my community. Things have shifted the past few months as I have begun to redefine both.  For many reasons, beyond anything worthy to note in this blog, my process always seems very cyclical.  I must step back from community, fade away into a dark corner where I can observe and take notes before I am ready to re-enter it... fresh, renewed, and prepared to act.  It seems each cycle ends positively - it just takes awhile to get there.

So in the meantime, I apologize for my absence. I have gotten your emails and appreciate them all. I have not disappeared, simply living off the reservation for a bit.  Now I'm drifting back.
I look forward to our conversations again,
B.

For those of you who may not know, I serve as the communications and marketing specialist for a homeless day center. It seems these past weeks there has been a lot of heartache among the community I serve.

I dont discuss my work often on this blog - and theres reasons for that. One of the reasons I rarely discuss work is because honestly, its just too overwhelming. There is so much to bear witness to that in order to function, I must, to a degree, keep my work and social life separate. I can't feel everything all the time without becoming paralyzed by it, so I compartmentalize and feel once in awhile during meditation.

This week however, has been exceptionally difficult. I walk through my organizations day room filled with 200 people. 200 souls that are aching, starving, longing, searching, surviving... 200 sacred people sitting in a room together and I breeze through from one door to the next striding towards my office. Although I've made a habit of walking slowly, making eye contact, and having small bits of conversation where allowed, the end journey still only amounts to a quick stroll through a rope line of pain and struggle.

A mentor once told me, "Bobbie, the only thing that eternally matters in this world is people and pouring yourself into them."  That was in ninth grade.  Since that time I have done my best to learn what pouring myself into others should look like when done healthily. Sometimes the need is so urgent, the pain so profound, that it's nearly impossible to know if there is a healthy way through it all.  Nonetheless, here I sit searching.

It's difficult to hear about the reality and hardships for many of my homeless neighbors; and equally strenuous to know that in two hours you must shake their hand and encourage their safety for the night as you escort them out into the rain. I sat in my office today for an hour listening to one man, Danny's, story. He now works alongside me, advocating for the rights and dignity of those homeless neighbors we serve.

Danny had also been homeless.  He shared the difficult hand he was dealt as a child, being given over to the state by his mother at the age of twelve. He shared that truth just as forthright as he acknowledged the irresponsible choices he made that stifled his journey for thirty years before becoming a productive and positive member of society. And when I listen to stories like his, its easy to become invigorated and work more diligently at educating ignorance and fundraising for services.

But then there are those whose story are nothing like Danny's. There are story's whose happy ending never seems to come. There is the 65 year old veteran who dies in the night after freezing. There is the 29 year old woman who overdoses on a friends couch. There is the 19 year old boy who was raped last night while sleeping outside. There is the mother of a 9 month old that I just passed in our clinic, whose hoping we can give her infant some cold medicine. There is the man who greets me each morning by name, sitting in the same corner, always with a red cap on, always talking philosophy, always drunk.

And it happens each day.  Each morning my organization opens its doors and new faces mingle in with the old.  And I wonder how long my heart can bear to tell their story, so real and seemingly hopeless, in a ten cent trivial tour.  I share their story, hoping to illustrate to the public that these issues are a community problem and moreover, one which they should be burdened.  More often then not however, the tour only goes so far as to solicit a $25 donation or recruiting two hours of volunteer time before they get engulfed by the isolating comfort that accompanies wealth.  Sooner then later they loose sight of lives interconnectivity and in turn, loose sight of their homeless neighbors.

My voice begins to crack, my throat course and dry after four tours of what I lovingly denote as educational persuasion.  I head home for lunch, reflecting on my efforts. Would they be better spent elsewhere? Would they be more successful in another venue? Are these tactics trite and fleeting or is sustainable change really possible? As a motivational tool I pop in an episode of the old television series, West Wing. I grip the couch as I hear actors on screen passionately and poetically recite my idealistic end of the spectrum through a monologue about generational poverty to a not so well intentioned, politically savvy, constituent.  I briefly escape into utopia provided in color, framed in a square tube.

The episode ends, as does my lunch, and I head back to work, not quite convinced or reassured in my ability to push through the day. My mind flashes back to the mornings conversation with Danny.   He shared with me the words of his former mentor, “Its your responsibility, your obligation, to be a good representative of the truth. How people receive that is none of your business - you can't control that.  All you gotta do is make sure your giving truth."

I dont hug much, especially my co-workers. But today, after our conversation, I hugged Danny.
I hugged Danny for all those people I cant hug in the day room.
I hugged Danny for all the inadequacies that lurk in my shadow while I pace the hallways giving public tours.
I hugged Danny in hopes that it will compensate for the idealistic monologue I know can't be effectively employed.
I hugged Danny because sometimes I am at a loss to do much of anything else.

But most importantly, I hugged Danny because sometimes its the only truth I know.
bobs

A friend of mine recently posted this on her blog:

"Truth is relative.

What do you think about that statement? Please feel free to share your thoughts. Is there a capital-T Truth? Or is there just lower-case truth, relative to each individual?"

I found it to be a great question and so I repost it with hopes that some of you reading will help me expand the conversation further into the cosmos. My response to her post is attached as a comment. Click below on comments to read more.

Bitter-sweet: Its how I would describe my day as I curl up and review the past 13 hours.

Bitter-sweet.

I am full of love, joy, nerves, certainty and uncertainty, excitement, confusion... calming distractions, comforting twitches.... everything dichotomous, but somehow perfectly complementary.

In meditation tonight many poems by the Sufi poet Hafiz were read. The poem entitled, And For No Reason stirs a sentiment of recognition.

“And
For no reason
I start skipping like a child.

And
For no reason
I turn into a leaf
That is carried so high
I kiss the Sun's mouth
And dissolve.

And
For no reason
A thousand birds
Choose my head for a conference table,
Start passing their
Cups of wine
And their wild songbooks all around.

And
For every reason in existence
I begin to eternally,
To eternally laugh and love!
When I turn into a leaf
And start dancing,
I run to kiss our beautiful Friend
And I dissolve in the Truth
That I Am.”


I have fallen in love with the work of Hafiz. He reminds me of an eastern version of G.K. Chesterton crossed with a more lucid Shell Silverstein... or as a close companion of mine puts it, "the poem makes burst of sunshine in my belly". Touche, touche.

Tonight - for every reason - Hafiz pinpoints my bitter-sweet existence with his poem. There is a pain that steers my life towards love and beauty even as it steals it... this truth is found in the margins of his writing and correspondingly in the intricacies of my life.

bobs

I took the day off Thursday so I could go to Bloomington on Wednesday night and participate in some festivities for the Tibetan New Year. I woke at 4:15am on Thursday morning and a friend and I headed to the monastery. It was pretty amazing. From 5:00am - 8:00am I sat with a group of people and participated in prayer. It was fantastic!

Some parts of the service I understood, others still elude me - but like orthodoxy, I find myself comforted by the rituals and traditions. The chanting, reciting, and routine force me to sit, be still, listen, and connect with Source in a way I fail to more often then not. Within Buddhism, especially, I have discovered an emphasis on mindfulness and intentionality. There is no doubt that you are in a sacred place, joined by family and friends, to search and worship, and discover. I relish this.

In an act of preparation, respect, and humility, Buddhist prostrate themselves prior to beginning their time of prayer. When I meditate at home, I often practice making prostrations, but I never have in public. Although I choose not to prostrate this time round, I still revere this act. It is a form of holistic admission that forces my heart and mind to ready itself unlike any other act.

Have you ever done it? Knelt down and bowed, forehead to the ground in honor of Source, Buddha, God, or Being? I dont think one can practice this and not be broken in humility.

Often when I prostrate at home, my thoughts are dedicated to the entire moment. Not just Source, but holiness and sacredness - I bow to all of life, because in one moment of life there is more preciousness then my entire being.  Participating with a group of people in such an act is even more powerful then alone in my room. Acknowledging together, but apart, that It is greater than the collective We.

At 5:00 a.m. - as folks from all cultures and corners of the world bow together in reverence, I am invited into a stillness that can only be found at the core of the lives commotion.  In the next few hours my mind came and went. I am far from having enough discipline to sit still for three hours, in mind or body, but its okay. You enter this Gompa as you are, ready to hand over what you know so that you can more fully discover what you don't.

By 8:30 it was over and I spend the rest of the day enjoying the company of a few different folks. I needed this break from work more then I anticipated. Endless amounts of coffee and sharing make me more aware of how far I've come, how far I've to go, and just how much both are dependent on the grace and love of those around me.

There is so much I want in this life and I find the toughest time in trying to figure out a balance between what I want, what I am ready for, and what I need. I've spent much time the past two days talking with a few influential folks - each relevant and irreplaceable, but all for different reasons.

Great changes are to be had in my life. Changes that are pretty superficial, but then again even thats debatable. These changes could alter how people perceive me - strangers that is - and of course when you toy with perception, its never a small thing. Simultaneously, I will always be me... just bobs. Nothing major would have really changed in the end. My heart and soul and approach to the world will be left untouched (correction, it will become more whole and healthy). And so I teeter between the profound and superficial.

But ahh, thats neither here nor there. My heart has changed so much this past year. I have grown in ways that I could have never hoped for. I am beginning to see myself ready for things I never imagined - in large part for purpose, self-fulfillment, discovery and wholeness.

I wish I could predict the future, strategically place all those I hope will always be present in my tomorrows. But who am I kidding, when left to such vices I never plan accordingly, so perhaps it is better that fate take me where it shall. I am frightened by my desire to know though. Its never been so strong, the desire that is.

When I weed through my hopes for the future, each wish I have revolves around various types of love:

• Self love... Not in an egocentric way, but a healthy love overflowing with acceptance, recognition, and wholeness. A love that allows me to better love everyone else.
  
• Love for friends... a kind I can never nail down quite right.
  
• Love for family...  A love to which I fail continuously, but am determined to get better at daily.
  
• Love for life... in all its forms, understood and mysterious. A love for global interconnectivity and my place within such a community.
  
• Romantic love... for lack of a better title.  I struggle with calling it that, but for communications sake, I'll digress. Romantic love seems too surface a word. It groups together several people in my life that, although romantic in nature, don't align or compare with the love I am referring in this particular instance.  This is an eternal and mature love, deeper then I've ever experienced before.   

Never have I had the opportunity to fail or succeed so greatly as with her.  And its a different type of success and failure that I am concerned with. Its a determination that can not be made by our relationship status, but rather by our authenticity and intention in any given moment.  Words elude me as I attempt a description. 

This love is more rewarding and more difficult and more fragile and intimate then I have ever imagined love being.  Its home and distant all at once. Its spiritual and physical, emotional and longing... its as complex as space is dimensional, but comes as naturally, simply, and irresistibly as a kid blowing bubbles with Big Chew bubble gum.  Its dichotomous nature becomes more trying when its no longer just thoughts in your head.  My innumerable inadequate guesses don't even scratch the surface this time around.

I dedicate much time lately to the discovery of self-worth.  I learn how to be in this world as a complete person - connected with body, mind, and community.  And in these moments I realize just how unprepared I am to be experiencing this love. To some degree I'll never be ready.  How can you truly prepare to care for and be apart of a thing you don't deserve and can't imagine? But aside from the naivety of experience, I know there are some things that must and can occur to better aid me in the leap I hope to one day make.

My love is deeper than adolescent romance or whimsical, antidotal screen plays.  I look at it, excited and nervous all in the same token. I am afraid of where such feelings could take me, but know that hiding from them wont really help me navigate this journey or interpret the view from which I stand.  And with a love so foundational, no promises are real - thats the only truth anyone can sincerely offer the other person. Trust are all we can put stock in.  So I continue to fumble my way through trusting that we're doing the best we can and that in the end it will all work out as its supposed to.

So I come back from Bloomington - even more aware of of my vulnerable nature. I come home more confident in what I don't know, and more assured in what I long for. For now I know several individuals I hope remain in my future and I speculate about the several other I dont know I'll need yet.

I head into my day, after four cups of coffee, way too much thinking, and a bite too much of bagel wondering...

how did yesterday prepare me for today and how will today usher me towards tomorrow?

b.