Auld Lang Syne

The last hours of 2005 are literally ticking away and soon attention will fall upon events taking place in Times Square. 2005 was extraordinary, but then so is any other year at this point looking back. Violence and poverty throughout the world continue. This year's benchmarks were a wave of natural disasters which reminded us that we are only human and that life is at once both precious and fragile.

Among those we lost this year were an anti-war champion, a king of late night television and a pope. It seems that remembering those who are no longer with us is an integral part of the ritual that marks our annual passage from one year to the next. It reminds me of Yahweh instructing Moses to climb the mountain to view the land of Canaan which he was about to give to the Israelites as their homeland. Moses would only view it from afar but not enter it. And so it is of those we lost. They will not enter the new year with us.

We greet the incoming year filled with all of the hope and promise of the Israelites entering Canaan. It will not take long before we discover that 2006, like every year before it, is not the land of milk and honey. In 2006 we will meet once again achievement and failure, discovery and bewilderment, industriousness and disaster, life and death. Whatever the new year holds for you and I, may we embrace it with acceptance and peace.

Copyright 2005 Don Neale, Jr.
All rights reserved.

Cruisin' to the Tunes!

Throughout the 1980s I was known as 'the deejay priest.' Almost every weekend I deejayed at least one high school dance, wedding reception or parish/community event. I started out modest with a decent personal sound system in 1982 and, with the channel of communication it opened with youth and the personal joy it brought me, my hobby unfolded into a budding professional business. Known first as 'Sound Station' and changing the name three years later to 'Cruisin' to the Tunes!' my reputation as the deejay priest grew by leaps and bounds. The evolution of my deejaying years took me through large music collections in five different formats - first vinyl singles, then vinyl albums, then on to cassettes, music videos and, with the birth of compact discs, on to CDs. I had a professional sound system, full light show and live video with two large monitors on either side of the stage.

I became something of a peculiarity if not an oddity and as interest grew I started receiving phone calls from newspapers throughout southwestern Michigan interested in writing a feature. Many of these features became syndicated. I will never know how far my story spread.

Music has always been special to me, a mystical door to innermost and transcendant feelings. A song by itself not only could elicit a memory and its accompanying mood, but also could actually propel me back in time to the moment itself.

Music has always been special to me, a mystical door to innermost and transcendant feelings. A song by itself not only could elicit a memory and its accompanying mood, but also could actually propel me back in time to the moment itself. Even today as I work within the prison, I have playing in the background collections of music carefully put together to carry my spirit again and again through my personal story.

In 1990 one of the most amazing gigs of my lifetime came to an end, but that's another story for another time.

What one special song has been forever etched into your memory of a defining moment in life? Does relistening to the song elicit the original feelings? Does hearing the song propel you back to the actual moment?

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

When the Well Runs Dry

What does a person do when the well runs dry, when you have no ideas or feel unimaginative? What do you do when you haven't a clue what to write about? Afterall, the theme of spirituality is somewhat limited in scope

abandonment
abide
ablution
absence
absolute
absolution
abstinence
abundance
abyss
acceptance
account
accurse
accuse
achieve
acquire
actions
activism
activity
actualization
adapt
adequacy
advent
affect
affection
affirm
affirmation
agape
age
alchemy
alive
almighty
altar
amazement
amen
angels
anger
animate
announce
anoint
answers
apocalypse
apologetic
apostle
arrival
art
ascend
asceticism
aspiration
assembly
assurance
attitude
atonement
authority
awakening
bad
balance
balm
banquet
baptism
baptize
be
beatitude
beatify
beauty
becoming
beginning
being
belief
believe
benediction
beneficence
benevolence
beyond
bible
birth
bishop
blame
bless
blessing
bliss
blood
body
bountiful
bounty
breath
brokenness
build
burden
call
calling
calm
canon
captive
care
carry
catholic
celebrate
celibacy
center
ceremony
certainty
chance
change
chant
chaos
character
charism
charity
chaste
chastity
childlike
chosen
christen
church
cleanse
cleric
cognition
collaborate
collect
comfort
coming of age
commandments
commemorate
commitment
communication
communion
community
concern
condemn
confess
confession
confirm
confound
congregation
connect
conscience
conscious
consciousness
consecrate
contemplation
continence
continuation
contribute
contribution
contrition
control
covenant
convent
convert
cooperation
corrupt
cosmos
council
counsel
courage
creation
credo
creed
crisis
cross
crucifixion
crucify
cry
damned
dance
dark
darkness
day
dearth
death
decency
decree
dedicate
defense
deficient
defile
define
dehumanize
deity
delight
deliverance
denial
denomination
depression
depths
descend
desecrate
desert
design
desire
development
devotion
devout
diatribe
differences
direction
disagreement
disapproval
disciple
discipline
discovery
discrimination
disease
disillusion
dispensation
dissent
distance
divine
divinity
doctrine
dogma
dominion
dream
dying
discernment
earth
ecumenical
edifice
ego
ejaculate ; )
elevate
embody
embrace
emotion
empathy
empower
enable
enlightenment
episcopacy
espoused
esteem
eternal
ethics
eucharist
evangelization
everlasting
evil
excommunicate
exercises
exist
existential
expectation
experience
explanation
exploitation
expression
faith
fall
family
faraway
farthermost
favor
fecund
feast
feed
feelings
fellowship
female
feminine
festival
flock
follow
forgive
forgiveness
fortitude
foundation
fragrance
freedom
fruitful
fulfillment
fullness
fundamentalism
future
garden
gather
genealogy
generosity
gentle
gift
give
giving
glory
god
goodwill
grace
gratitude
ground
growth
guilt
hail
happiness
harmony
hatred
heal
healing
heart
heaven
heights
helpfulness
hermitage
hero
heroic
history
holiness
holy
home
honor
hope
hopelessness
human
humanity
humility
hunger
hymn
ideal
ideology
idolatry
illusion
image
imagination
imitate
immaculate
imminence
immortal
impediment
individual
indulgence
infinite
initiation
inner
insight
insignificance
inspiration
instruction
intelligence
intention
intercession
interminable
internal
interpretation
inward
irrelevant
jealousy
journey
judge
judgment
just
justice
karma
kingdom
knowledge
lack
laity
lament
land
laud
laugh
law
leadership
least
leaven
libation
liberation
life
light
likeness
loneliness
longsuffering
lord
love
man
manifest
manna
marriage
masculine
matriarch
matrimony
matter
meaning
meditation
meek
melancholy
mercy
messenger
metanoia
mind
ministry
miracle
modernism
moment
monasticism
morality
mortal
mountain
music
mystic
myth
naked
name
narcissism
narration
nation
nativity
natural
nature
near
necessity
need
negativism
neglect
neighbor
newness
night
nirvana
nomadic
nothing
now
nurture
obedience
oblation
obligation
observance
ode
offering
offertory
oil
ointment
omnipotent
omnipresent
omniscient
oneness
openness
opportunity
optimism
order
ordination
origins
other
pagan
pain
paradise
parish
parishioner
passage
passion
past
path
patriarch
peace
penance
pentacost
pentateuch
perception
perfection
perish
perspective
persecution
person
pessimism
physical
piety
pilgrim
pilgrimage
pity
place
plan
pleasure
plight
poetic
pontificate
possessiveness
positive
possible
potential
poverty
power
practice
praise
prayer
predestination
predetermination
prejudice
presence
present
priest
priesthood
primacy
principle
priority
proclaim
prodigal
process
profess
profound
progress
promise
promulgate
pronounce
proof
prophecy
prophet
providence
psalm
purgatory
purpose
quench
quest
question
quiet
quietude
reality
realm
reason
recitation
reconciliation
reconnection
recreate
redemption
refresh
regimen
relationships
relativism
release
relic
relief
religion
religious
rejection
remnant
remorse
renew
repent
repose
repress
resentment
respect
response
rest
restore
resurrection
retreat
reunion
revelation
revenge
reverence
revival
right
righteous
righteousness
rites
ritual
rubric
rule
sabbath
sacerdotal
sackcloth
sacrament
sacred
sacrifice
sadness
safety
saint
sainthood
salvation
sanctify
sanctity
sanctuary
satisfaction
saved
scripture
seasons
secular
sect
seed
seek
selfish
selfless
separation
serenity
serpent
service
sexuality
shame
shepherd
sign
silence
sin
sing
sleep
slumber
solemnity
solicitude
solitude
song
sorrow
soul
soulful
sovereignty
special
spirit
spirituality
splendor
stain
star
still
stillness
story
strength
success
suffer
suffering
sufficiency
supernatural
surprise
symbol
tabernacle
temperament
temple
test
thankfulness
thanks
thanksgiving
theism
theology
theophany
thirst
thought
tithe
tolerance
torah
tradition
transcendence
transfigure
transition
transparency
traverse
tribe
trinity
triumphant
trust
truth
ubiquitous
ultimate
unbelief
unbounded
uncertainty
unconscious
understanding
unify
unity
universal
unknown
unworthy
uplift
urgency
utmost
validity
value
venerable
venerate
vengeance
verse
vessel
vestment
vicar
vicarious
victim
vigilance
violate
virtue
vision
visitation
vocation
voice
vow
wail
wait
waken
walk
wander
want
wash
watch
watchfulness
water
way
weak
weary
weakness
weep
welcoming
wellspring
will
willingness
wind
window
wise
wisdom
withdraw
witness
woman
wonder
wondrous
word
work
works
world
worship
worthy
wrong
yoke
youth
youthfulness
zeal

Wishing you all ideas and imagination this holiday season!

Copyright 2005 Don Neale, Jr.
All rights reserved.

Angels, Mortal Love & Other Things...

One of the DVDs on my book shelf that never gets old with multiple viewing is Nicholas Cage and Meg Ryan's City of Angels. I love this flick! An angel (Cage) decides to give up his immortality to experience mortal love. After only a brief taste he tragically loses that too when Ryan meets her untimely death.

I believe in guardian angels. At least that's the only real explanation I have for what I've experienced. There have been too many times in my life when I've found my way into serious fixes too impossible to escape only to miraculously be delivered from any harm. Dreadfully scared, without a click of the heels of my ruby red slippers, a blink of the eyes or a twitch of my nose, the trouble just disappears and I find myself safe from any harm other than second guessing the bad choices that presented me with my dilemmas in the first place. Every day I meet people who have stared in the face of the same dark moments I have but weren't as fortunate.

Mind you, my existence is no garden paradise. There are problems and circumstances that weigh heavily on me and the burden of the pain and hurt at times seems unbearable. There are times when I cannot hold back the crying out of my heart, spirit and soul. I wonder why God has spared me from so many burdens yet disappointingly remains silent in the midst of so many things I wish would just go away. But how can I fear? I take comfort in knowing that God, perhaps through messengers, is looking out for me. I just hope that in the midst of such amazing grace that I don't make a decision like that Cage's angel makes that ultimately costs him everything.

What do you think? Ever had an experience of feeling the presence or intervention of angels watching over you? Is there anything in life that you're willing to lose everything for a just a taste?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Walter Cronkite Interviews Gentlefootprint on Scripture

Picture the Bible as a big mansion where God lives. There are all kinds of different rooms in that mansion. Rooms with different decor. Rooms for different purposes. But one house. Now we want to get to know the One who lives inside. Mr. or Mrs. Exegesis enter through the front door and take in all of the different things you learn about the owner as they pass from room to room. They would consider what they found in the context of the room in which they discovered it. They would consider when what they found was acquired, what other choices may have been available and why a particular choice may have been made. Now, on the other hand, Mr. or Mrs. Isegesis slip in through the back door with an agenda. They already claim to know who the occupant is. They'll look around and snatch anything they can find in support of what they already believe. Now which one is going to be able to tell you more about who the occupant living in the mansion?

CRONKITE: Hello again everyone. This is Walter Cronkite. Here with me today is a pilgrim on the spiritual path, Gentlefootprint. Welcome.
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: Thank you, Walter. It's good to be here.
CRONKITE: You recently started your second xanga, Five Minutes for GOD: A Spiritual Journey through the Bible. Why?
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: I didn't see anything like it on xanga. There are a lot of xangas out there that offer reflections on all aspects of spirituality from every possible angle. You'll also find a bunch of xangas that apply the scriptures to every discussion, debate or conversation. When these two come together you'll find a battlefield that many find a turnoff and will run the other way. My goal with 5 Minutes was to show that there is another way, a spiritual way to walk through the passages of the Bible. God's Word is always a living word that continues to create. It isn't imprisoned by the printed pages of a book.
CRONKITE: How do you find God's Word in the Bible?
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: You begin by realizing that the Bible isn't a book at all. It's many different books covering a multiplicity of genres. Each arose from the pen of a particular writer set in a particular place and time and circumstance. That writer belonged to a people who reflected on their particular relationship with God within that context. All this needs to be taken into consideration if you're going to fully understand God's Word. This is the work of exegesis.
CRONKITE: So how do you find and select scripture passages that address our particular questions or issues?
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: A more legitimate question might be should we be doing so in the first place? To take our present beliefs and concerns to the Bible to find vindication for them is isegesis. The true meaning of God's Word in scripture rests with exegesis, not isegesis. Now with good exegesis we unlock the full power of that Word and the truth it contains may well speak to today's dilemmas.
CRONKITE: All this sounds so scholarly.
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: To an extent, yes. When someone sites a scripture passage as the authority on a particular question or issue, it would be good to first question their authority. Are they entering into the conversation from the perspective of exegesis or isegesis?
CRONKITE: Can you make the difference between exegesis and isegesis simpler for us to understand?
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: Sure. Picture the Bible as a big mansion where God lives. There are all kinds of different rooms in that mansion. Rooms with different decor. Rooms for different purposes. But one house. Now we want to get to know the One who lives inside. Mr. or Mrs. Exegesis enter through the front door and take in all of the different things you learn about the owner as they pass from room to room. They would consider what they found in the context of the room in which they discovered it. They would consider when what they found was acquired, what other choices may have been available and why a particular choice may have been made. Now, on the other hand, Mr. or Mrs. Isegesis slip in through the back door with an agenda. They already claim to know who the occupant is. They'll look around and snatch anything they can find in support of what they already believe. Now which one is going to be able to tell you more about who the occupant living in the mansion?
CRONKITE: I like that!
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: And keep in mind that the owner of the mansion isn't stuck in that house 24/7! God gets out every once in a while and visits other places too!
CRONKITE: Let's get back now to 5 Minutes. Is 5 Minutes exegesis or isegesis?
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: It's not intended to be either. It is spiritual. Everytime I reread a verse from the Bible, it speaks something different to me. One of the things that always amazed me as a Pastor was listening after Church to how many different ways your homily or sermon spoke to folks other than the way it had spoken to me. 5 Minutes is just one journey where I share what the passage has spoken to me and invite those joining me for the journey to share something of what the passage speaks to them.
CRONKITE: You do this in 5 Minutes and just a short passage! It'll be a long journey!
GENTLEFOOTPRINT: As a pastor I followed an unwritten rule. If I couldn't say what I wanted to say in 5 minutes, it probably wasn't anything worth sharing in the first place. And as a blogger here on xanga, I start to get uncomfortable when my post exceeds what will appear in the browser window without having to scroll down. You know, Walter, more isn't always better! The value of 5 Minutes is that it shows people how much we can get from just a little bit.
CRONKITE: Truely words to the wise. Thanks for being with us, Gentlefootprint. And that's the way it is, Monday December 5th, 2005. This is Walter Cronkite. Goodnight.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

On How to Die

A while back I wrote about my sister-in-law's bout with cancer. She has bravely battled Stage 4 cancer for 14 months now. Having gathered at her house with family for Thanksgiving, I was struck by the toll her cancer has taken. Even though doctors told her recently that they could no longer justify treatment, she voices a confidence and resolve that her fight is not over yet. Today after visiting the funeral home to discusss funeral arrangements, she was off to the Cancer Treatment Center in Illinois for a second opinion and support for her renewed will to defeat the disease.

When someone is so immersed in the fight to live, it seems awkward to consider how one might choose to die. My sister-in-law is somewhat secretive about her fight, I suspect to spare family from the overwhelming pain and the despair of being up against such an ominous foe. The family is apprehensive to dig too deeply for fear of hampering her spirits. And so both remain silent, afraid to speak openly. In my years of ministry I saw this same tension play out between the family and the one facing the life-threatening illness.

One of the things I become mindful of when I watch Survivor on Thursday nights is how comforting, reassuring it is to venture out in the jungle with someone leading the way. It is less scarey for those who follow the leader because you know something of what you are encountering and can prepare yourself for it.

Dying, like anything unknown, is scary. I would hope when I face my own death that I can be for my family and friends that person leading the way for those who will inevitably follow in my footsteps. My dying would take on meaning if I could in some way make the experience a little less scary for them by being open to sharing what I am experiencing... Like the one on Survivor leading the tribe into the jungle and confronting all the things that scare and intimidate for us.

Like my sister-in-law, I would fight as bravely as she has until such time as acceptance and embracing my death becomes a more valiant course. A couple of summers ago I had the privilege of traveling along Michigan's Great Lakes' shoreline. I am in awe at the sight of water, the different shades of blue and green and teal. I suppose my affinity for the water probably has something to do with the water in which we were formed in our mother's womb. My fascination with the water is perhaps a return to the security and nurture of the womb as I pass from this life to the next season of my existence.

And so I have let it be known that my way of dying would be to sit myself in a chair overlooking the scenic green waters of the Great Lakes. I would stay right there until I breathed my last, taking in the beauty and awesomeness of God in nature. I hope I have that privilege instead of facing my death in a hospital bed.

How would you face your death?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Help Us

Sitting in the waiting room until my name was called to see the dentist this afternoon, I skimmed through the December 2005 issue of Readers Digest until falling on an article about an upcoming Barbara Walters' television special on Heaven. With only a couple of minutes to spend I never got that deep into the selection let along finish the article. Still a couple of things stood out.

There are 10,000 religions! Nine out of ten Americans believe in an afterlife with a majority believing they will realize it whatever it might be. Walters went to an Israeli prison where she interviewed a 21 year old Palestinian who, when only 17, participated in a foiled suicide bombing attempt. He wanted to kill Jews he recounts, believing he would be rewarded by entering into paradise where he would experience "joyous sex on silken couches amid rivers of milk and honey." Walters, a Jew, asked whether he believed she would be welcomed into paradise. The response sounded something like expect to rot in hell.

Then she interviews the head of the National Association of Evangelicals, the most politically influential religious group in the country. Is it possible, Walters asks, for a person to make it into heaven without accepting Jesus as their personal savior? Matter of factly and without hesitation the answer was, "No."

These thoughts set my mind into high gear pondering the contradiction inherent in such an exclusive view of religious entitlement with respect to attaining a heaven or paradise. While I do not purport to be an expert on world religions, I think it is safe to say that a majority are built on embracing as many people as possible into their fold. Community. Oneness. Yet somewhere along the line this view as been twisted as religions have become closed minded and divisive. The doors to an invitation God extends to all are closed by the religion's adherents.

Does anyone else see a contradiction here?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Spiritual Renaissance

Yesterday marked the beginning of Advent. There's something about the Advent-Christmas and Lent-Easter seasons that, like facing a life-threatening crisis, instills a desire to take ones relationship with God a bit more seriously. People will show an openness to and try to incorporate into their lives spiritual practice and discipline and acts of piety. They'll read more from the Bible, pray more often or longer, meditate, contemplate and reflect and some may even participate in acts of charity and service. Then just as surely as the seasons come and go, interest and enthusiasm will fade after the holidays are over and folks will return to their former, less committed selves.

Why do you suppose people in general tend to be so non-committal about addressing the spiritual side of life and being? Do you suppose it's because we have such a hard time with commitment in general, with commitment of any kind? Do you think it reflects a failure on the part of organized religion to offer meaningful rites and rituals that touch the spirit and soul? Or do you think it has anything to do with the disrespect that seems to characterize one religion's openness toward all others, one denomination's openness toward all other denominations and one path's openness toward all other paths? Does it have anything to do with the aggressiveness with which some religions evangelize to the world or the judgmental character that colors such efforts? Does it wind up just being the hypocrisy that runs rampant over the religious landscape?

Think about it, none of the great spiritual masters to date (Old Testament Patriarchs, priests, prophets and kings, Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, etc.) has captured the collective imagination of humanity. Do you think the human race will ever experience a spiritual renaissance and, if so, what do you think it would take to bring such an era about?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

My Spiritual Journey

"The journey you wish to take can only begin from where you are right now this very minute." - Ron Atchison

I decided to write an intimate portrait of my spiritual journey before I ran across the Ron Atchison quote. In some respects that is what I've been doing here on xanga all along since starting my blog. But writing about "spiritual things" isn't necessarily the same as recounting the story of my spiritual journey.

Contrary to what Atchison claims, my spiritual journey doesn't begin right here, right now. In a real sense, it didn't even begin with my birth. My journey is but a jaunt along a path paved by those throughout history who have already undertaken it. Most of what I've seen has already been discovered yet my uniqueness guarantees there will be some surprises along the way.

The unconscious lessons of my infancy - unconditional love, protection, trust, nurture - serve as a point of departure for my spiritual journey. I covered a lot of ground in these early years without ever realizing it. Before I consciously asked my first spiritual question, I had progressed in my understanding of the ways of the spiritual realm.

Looking back at my childhood I recall experiences of intense emotion which, for the first time, had a profound impact on who I was and how I saw myself. These became the first conscious steps taken on my spiritual journey.

As a 3 years old I experienced my first conscious taste of fear. A young and troubled distant relative, perhaps a psychopath, who lived in the attic of my maternal Grandmother's house next door, made it a habit of jumping out of nowhere to scare my cousin and me and would chase us through the woods behind our house. He was my boogeyman and every bit as scarey as Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers or Jason.

Also around this time I had my first conscious encounter with being critically ill and the disconnect between what I wanted to do and what my body allowed me to do. Instead of doing the things that normal 3-4 year old boys would be doing, I spent a significant amount of time in and out of the hospital living in oxygen tents to treat pneumonia, asthma and a series of respiratory complications.

I had my first taste of abandonment as a 6 year old. School had been dismissed early because of tornado warnings. Long after everyone had left for home, my cousin and I found ourselves alone on the playground. We eventually rearranged some large stones in an attempt to "build" a car that we could "drive" home. This was also my first experience of salvation as, after what seemed like hours but was likely only a matter of minutes, our teacher discovered us playing alone on the playground as she left the school and gave us a ride home.

My initial conscious experience of separation and loss was at the age of 7. My parents bought a new home in the neighboring suburb. In the move I lost everything that was familiar to me - my room, my house, my neighborhood friends, my school.

By age 10 I had my first taste of death of someone close. My maternal Grandfather succumbed to cancer. Over a period of weeks I had witnessed his confinement to a hospital bed in their trailer's living room and the ravaging effects of a disease that literally ate him up into nothingness before my eyes.

It was at this same time that I began to put on weight and became a chubby child, facing cruelty for the first time in the taunting and ridicule of peers.

These experiences and others like them tore the first gaping holes in my emerging view of the world. The world was scarey, health was fragile, we sometimes found ourselves alone, there was no permanency to the things that make us comfortable and secure, those we love don't live forever, people were cruel and I was not worthy of respect. The need to fill these holes and make my world whole again drove my spiritual journey in my early years.

In my early years the spiritual journey was not framed by religious instruction or church attendance. This did not mean, however, an absence of values. I was taught from the beginning that we had a moral responsibility to be our brother's keeper and that our existence was defined by identification with family. I was taught there were rules we live by and consequences when those rules were broken.

The closest thing to a religious experience prior to my adolescence was the assassination of President Kennedy in Dallas on November 22, 1963. Life came to stop and time stood still. Eyes fixed on the television set, each image became etched indelibly on my mind and heart. I felt an awkward mix of sadness yet at the same time an awe for the pomp and pagentry.

I learned that dreams could be gunned down and the good died young. I learned that there were rituals that could bring us all together, carry us through our common grief and bring about healing and reconciliation.

It wasn't adolescence that made my teenage years turbulant. It was my mother's mental illness. Dealing with the changes brought on by puberty took a backseat to behaviors in my mom that defied explanation or understanding.

To say that watching your mother bang her head on the cupboard until her forehead bled while loudly chanting that she wished she was dead was unsettling is an understatement. It was impossible to predict what would provoke those too frequent episodes. My dad would get in the car and drive away leaving my younger sister and I alone. My manner of coping was to withdraw to my room with the door shut and locked. It was the only place I felt safe... or at least could hide. I lived my teen years as if walking on eggshells, afraid of doing anything that would trigger another outburst.

Bi-Polar. OCD. Borderline. It doesn't matter anymore what those years were all about beyond their having an impact on my spiritual make up. I thank God my mom is better now and has been so for the last thirty years.

I learned that the world is unpredictable, that sometimes there is no explanation for what happens. Sometimes all we're left with is unanswered questions. There are things in life we may never understand. And these lessons lent a sense of urgency to my spiritual quest.

Despite growing up in the 60's, I was never into the drugs or free sex scene. I wanted to be a teacher and that's all that really mattered to me. The war in Viet Nam played out on television sets nightly. I observed a growing rift between young and old, black and white, hawk and dove. A part of the idealism of my youth died in 1968 with the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. Hope and dreams went up in smoke as riot-torn cities burned and napalm bombs detonated on the other side of the world. Innocense was lost. I learned brokenness, hopelessness and despair. I learned that evil was a powerful force to be reckoned with.

Another defining moment for my spiritual journey occurred between my junior and senior years. As a sophomore and junior I weighed 210 pounds and was a lineman on my high school football team. Whether attributable to will power or anorexia I do not know, but I returned for my senior year a mere shadow of my former self weighing in at 138 pounds. I was struck by the instant celebrity status I gained among my peers. Everyone wanted to hear my story. One of my assistant football coaches who also coached track urged me to try out to see what I could do with the sleeker, slimmer me. People took notice of me only after I became "hot" looking. But even though the newfound popularity and attention felt good, I knew that appearance had nothing to do with who I was. I learned that it didn't matter who a person was on the inside. Life was driven by the superficial, by outward appearances.

The greatest surprise of my life came at the end of my senior year when I received my high school's Art Departmental Award. I was dumbfounded by the recognition but it drove home an appreciation of the power of art in any of its forms to convey truth.

These latest of life's lessons further defined the issues that would encompass my spiritual quest. I set off for college in search of understanding and answers to the complexities and contradictions and conundrums of life.

I set out for Western Michigan University in pursuit of a career as a middle school math and art teacher. I took with me a host of unanswered questions and a thirst for understanding or answers to the complexities, contradictions and conundrums that had challenged my childhood.

When Edward Kennedy quoted Yeats at the funeral of his assassinated brother Robert in June 1968, he spoke of a spirit that characterized RFK's life and was pervasive in youth at the time:
"Some men see things as they are and say 'Why?'
I dream things that never were and say 'Why not?'"
The times presented a cultural climate conducive to questioning every convention with an open mind. While volumes could be written about this spirit's impact, it did place me at the right place at the right time for the soul searching I needed to experience.

During this time I explored and experimented with a number of spiritual disciplines and churches, but didn't find a home until I came in contact with John Grathwohl, a priest who loved liturgy and was an activist when it came to living his faith. He became my mentor, I took instructions in the Catholic faith and became a Catholic at the Easter Vigil.

The Catholic faith didn't provide all the answers I was looking for but John's life made sense to me. My hunger was unquenchable and I soon found myself entertaining the idea of the priesthood.

Liturgy appealed to my artistic nature. The power and timelessness of the rituals connected me to the God I loved more than anything the world had to offer and the community that both gathered around and was defined by its participation in them. My interest took me to Notre Dame where I had the opportunity to explore further my fascination with liturgy.

At this time I continued to ponder the possibility that I was being called to the priesthood. Having completed the prerequisites for secondary education and a teaching major in math and a minor in economics, the only thing that separated me from my career was one last semester of student teaching. In order to keep the door open to the seminary however I added another year to my undergraduate studies to pick up a major in religion, a minor in philosophy and the language requirements for admission to the theologate.

Upon graduating from WMU, I was off for the seminary to study theology. Toward the end of my second year, I began to harbor doubts about my readiness to continue. In just three short years I had gone from converting to Catholicism to nearly being half-way on the road to ordination to the priesthood. It didn't seem right to continue without first giving myself a spiritual "time out" to give God a chance to speak to me and either confirm a return to the seminary or send me off in another direction.

Instead of sharing the next installment of his very interesting and special journey, YNOT's post yesterday dealt with the frustrations of parenting his 13 year old daughter who has discovered her interest in boys. How much easier it is when the reaction to the opposite sex is "Eeww" or "Yuck!" How do you keep the lines of communication with your teen open and preserve mutual respect yet set appropriate boundaries that give the space needed for her to continue to unfold and mature while at the same time protecting her from situations where she'll find herself vulnerable or susceptible to unnecessary hurt? They just don't teach that in school, do they?

Ynot's anguish was cause for me to revisit when I first found myself star-struck over a girl. This too represents an important milestone in my spiritual journey. It was the spring of 1963. I had just turned 12 and 6th grade was winding down as summer approached. I can't pinpoint when it happened, but at the snap of a finger my interest in sports, in cars, in things mechanical and in other "boy stuff" faded in the shadow of an infatuation with Jean Taylor.

I doubt I even understood what it all meant at the time. Had I discovered girls because of some change going on within myself or did I set my sight on Jean Taylor because other boys were hooking up with a girl and I didn't want to be left out? Mind you, it was different for my generation because there was no such thing as cell phones, instant messaging and xanga. These staples of modern technology may have pushed me along faster than I was emotionally mature enough to handle.

At any rate, we're at recess (yes, I said "recess") and are playing a game of softball. My team is at bat and as I go to the plate with runners at second and third base and one out, the kids began to taunt me with crescendos of "You better get a hit or Jean Taylor won't like you anymore!"

Kids are cruel that way. Good grief, talk about pressure! Determined to hit a homerun to win Jean Taylor's heart, I tightened my grip on the bat and leaned into the plate to meet the pitch with as much power as I could muster. Strike one. I stepped away from the plate to do the "between pitches fidget" dance to the beat of further taunts. "Jean Taylor," I thought, "this one's for you!" Strike two.

I could feel the momentum of the pressure shift from "can do" to "oh, no." As I stepped to the plate for the third pitch, I was fearful and tentative. "I've got to do this for Jean Taylor!" Strike three.

I was crushed and couldn't shrink any lower than I felt at that moment. I had no way of knowing that what transpired on that playground in the spring of 1963 would become a metaphor for my luck in life with women.

For the next three years I served as Youth Minister for a church comprised of over 1000 families. It was the same Church where I had first met John Grathwohl but he was no longer the pastor there. With his departure also went the quality of the liturgy. The same sermon was preached Sunday after Sunday and became so canned that the congregation actually began to lip sync it! My spiritual hunger was not being met and I was not alone.

I also took one last stab at dating and finding Mrs. Right. I never understood or fully appreciated manditory celibacy. Among my peers in the seminary most saw it as part of what you had to accept if you felt God was calling you to be a priest but it was not essential to the priesthood itself. It is a powerful witness IF God were calling you to a life of celibacy, but the call to priesthood and the call to celibacy were two distinct calls.

I had a serious relationship with three different women during my time out from the seminary and actually got close enough to one in particular that I could picture a life with her. But God didn't stop tugging at my heart and I concluded in the end that His call was too persistent and undeniable.

After a three year sabbatical I readied myself for a return to the seminary.

Throughout the 1980s I was known as 'the deejay priest.' Almost every weekend I deejayed at least one high school dance, wedding reception or parish/community event. I started out modest with a decent personal sound system in 1982 and, with the channel of communication it opened with youth and the personal joy it brought me, my hobby unfolded into a budding professional business. Known first as 'Sound Station' and changing the name three years later to 'Cruisin' to the Tunes!' my reputation as the deejay priest grew by leaps and bounds. The evolution of my deejaying years took me through large music collections in five different formats - first vinyl singles, then vinyl albums, then on to cassettes, music videos and, with the birth of compact discs, on to CDs. I had a professional sound system, full light show and live video with two large monitors on either side of the stage.

I became something of a peculiarity if not an oddity and as interest grew I started receiving phone calls from newspapers throughout southwestern Michigan interested in writing a feature. Many of these features became syndicated. I will never know how far my story spread.

Music has always been special to me, a mystical door to innermost and transcendant feelings. A song by itself not only could elicit a memory and its accompanying mood, but also could actually propel me back in time to the moment itself. Even today as I work within the prison, I have playing in the background collections of music carefully put together to carry my spirit again and again through my personal story.

In 1990 one of the most amazing gigs of my lifetime came to an end.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Look Within

In his book The Power of Now, Eckhart Tolle frequently reminds his readers that he is not teaching anything that we do not already know. Cheril Carter-Scott in her book If Life Is A Game, These Are the Rules echoes that sentiment when she observes "Deep inside, you already know all you need to know."

Such an empowering truth, but do we really believe it? We greet our inner voice with distrust and heed it only after its been verified by external sources.

Consider the many wonderful spiritually-themed xangas. Are these not, in part, an expression of the writer's inner voice seeking common acceptance or ratification? Why are we so uncomfortable expressing and embracing the profound, life-altering spiritual truths etched within our heart, our spirit, our soul?

A legitimate concern might be the fear of confusing the inner voice of truth with the voice of the ego. Only by sounding out our inner voice through the ears of those we trust can we minimize the risk of being played by the ego.

If we agree with the premise that the answers to our innermost questions rest within us then it is also important to consider who or what the origin or source of the inner voice is. Is it the voice of God? The voice of a collective unconscious? Or is their no inner voice other than that of the ego?


What is the source of our inner voice? What inner truth or lesson do you have the hardest time believing or trusting?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Suicide - Conclusion

A call in the middle of the night. A 17 year old boy, less than 3 months away from graduating from high school, has committed suicide. His family hurts. His peers at school question.

What would you say to this family? What would you say to his friends from school? Where is God to be found in such a turn of events?

In the end only God is God. No theological study, no dogmatic teaching and no zealous evangelization is going to change that. God's historical track record is One who just doesn't give up on us. The God that Jesus spoke of is a loving father with arms ever extended, inviting us to surrender to that love and live our life within his embrace. God is not bound by our judgmental pronouncements and narrow mindedness. As a person of deep spiritual hunger and profound faith, I am banking on God who is merciful beyond all telling and who is much more generous in extending grace to us than we are toward one another.

In the instance of suicide we must keep in mind that sin has always been seen as a willfull act to do that which our informed conscience knows is wrong. What can be willfull about an act that's shrouded in desperation, aloneness, brokenness and hurt? Can anyone be more "lost" than at that moment when life has become so unbearable that the only way out is to end it?

Our religious tradition has much to say about the importance God places on seeking the lost. And so I leave you all with one final question to ponder...

Would God - no, could God - abandon such a person?

May peace be with you and yours...

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Suicide

I dread being woke up in the middle of the night by the disheveling ring of the phone.

Several months following Jennifer's death but before the winter was ready to relinquish the season to spring I received one of those ominous calls. A parishioner was calling to ask if I could visit. The state police had just informed them that their 17 year old son committed suicide. His wife was understandably distraught and he also hoped I would talk to their 14 year old son. Shortly before 2:00 am, I had dressed and hit the road.

One of the difficulties of serving a large inner city church of 2,000 families was that you never get to know a significant percentage of your parishioners. If they attended Church at all, they would either slip out early to avoid the traffic or disappeared out a side door without your ever seeing them. I had no recollection of the family I was asked to visit.

When I arrived, the state police and sheriff's department were still there conducting their investigation searching for clues that might explain what had happened. I sat down with Chuck and Betty and their 14 year old son Chris. They related what police had told them, questioned why such a thing could have happened and shared memories of the son and brother who would not be coming home. And I listened. Together we cried, embraced and prayed that God would offer some sense of peace and understanding.

Lance was a quiet kid but they were not aware of his ever being in any kind of trouble. He seemed to get along with his peers and had lots of friends at school. He was looking forward to graduating from high school and going to college in the fall. For some unknown reason he had taken his car and driven to the other side of the state where police attempted to execute a stop for a traffic violation. He fled and a high speed chase ensued. Lance pulled off onto a gravel road in the country where he stopped running, lifted a handgun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

What would you say to this family? What would you say to his friends from school? Where is God to be found in such a turn of events?

I encourage you to comment with your thoughts. Look for the conclusion to this post tomorrow. I will share how I approached this difficult moment to comfort this family and grieving friends at school.

May peace be with you and yours...

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Jennifer - Part Two

This is the continuation of a previous post on 8/23/2005...

Following Jennifer's funeral, the students of the small, lakeshore community school resumed the customary pursuits of adolescence. Though the question "Why?" will likely accompany them throughout their entire lives, some found comfort in imagining that, because she was the good person she was, God had wanted Jennifer for a special purpose known only to him.

No picture of a Friday night in the fall would be complete for me without including the stadium lights, cheering crowds and marching bands that surround high school football. The Laker football team asked me to be their chaplain and I graciously accepted. It meant I got to ride on the team bus and watch the games from the sidelines. Everyone expected LMC to have a good season under their new head coach but no one could have predicted the magic about to unfold.

Jennifer's death forged a mystical bond among this group of kids and I felt a part of it. I was asked to lead the team in prayer before, during and after each game. In my prayer, I tried to reassure them that in Jennifer they had a friend who now knew what it was all about, who experienced what we could only speculate about. The first two games were big wins, outscoring their opponents 50-12. Game three was a struggle. The visiting Lakers were outplayed and late in the game were lucky to have the ball one last time in a scoreless game. Following a sideline prayer, the kids took the field and scored on a Hail Mary pass into the end zone as time expired, winning 8-0.

LMC breezed through its next four games, outscoring opponents 184-18. Their next foe took them away to play their rival for the league championship. Trailing 14-18 with time running out, it looked as though the dream season was about to come to an end. I was again called upon for a sideline prayer before the team returned to the field. As in game three, an impossible, miraculous razzle dazzle play nailed the win, 20-18. The team and fans were jubilant in celebration, but paused in the end zome in prayer to thank God - and Jennifer - for making their season possible.

The last game of the season was to qualify for the state playoffs. The ratings did not favor the Lakers making post season play but they needed a win to have any chance at an invitation. Once again LMC found itself down 0-3 late in the game. For the third time a sideline prayer and a miraculous play pulled the game out, 6-3. Luck finally ran out, however, as their perfect season did not earn them their berth for a bid at a state championship. If they had, I have no doubt this group of kids would have won it all.

The kids believed that God - and Jennifer - was with them that fall and that was all the inspiration they needed to experience the impossible.

A question to ponder as you consider this post is...

When have you experienced the impossible in your life and what was your inspiration?

May peace be with you and yours...

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Change

Featured Grownups With Content is asking members to consider a post this weekend on the theme of change. I think this is a great idea, so belatedly here is my contribution...

I wonder why change frightens people so. Afterall, everything that is continuously unfolds. Nothing remains constant. Growth. Evolution. Journey. Change. That's life!

That we fight change seems on the surface to be human nature. We are most comfortable when we are in our element, when we surround ourselves in the familiar. And so we stubbornly cling to the things in our life that have always been. At work the answer to why we do what we do is all too often little more than because its the way things have always been done. For some, the effort to fight change is so intense and persistent that they find themselves engaged in weekly visits to their psychotherapist and looking for the elusive pill that will bring happiness. But how can one find true happiness while living life contrary to nature?

Attitude and perspective are critical in keeping our emotions in check. Emotional discord or restlessness is the culprit most likely to rob us of a sense of wholeness and peace. It is important therefore to look at change maturely and with the right attitude. Change isn't the enemy. It's our friend.

Through embracing change instead of fighting it we can own the direction our life takes as it inevitably unfolds. When we face each new day anticipating our progress along the journey and greeting the changes taken place that leave us so much more than what we were the day before we will have learned to harness the power and beauty of change.

A question to ponder as you consider this post is...

Looking back, has resistence to change ever made a positive contribution to your life?

May peace be with you and yours...

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Special Place, Sacred Space

While camping with my family in the summer of 1959, an 8 year old Don took off on a hike into the woods and discovered a bluff overlooking the bend in a river in the northern lower peninsula of Michigan. This place has captured my imagination ever since and whenever I visit I feel at home there. Being there brings me into the presence of the transcedent God and Mother Earth. Sitting on the bluff I feel small in the scheme of life and at the same time large in the knowledge that there is a unique yet significant role I am destined to play. I have returned to my special place several times and spend time there whenever I find my life in some kind of transition.

We need special places and sacred spaces because we need to step out of the rat race of life to focus and gain perspective. We need a place where all of life’s distractions can be left behind while we focus on the two most important relationships of our existence - our God and our inner self.

Special places and sacred spaces can take many forms, from an actual geographical place like my bluff overlooking the riverbend to an altar we've created in the corner of a room. Or it may be a mystical inner place we find and can return to through meditation.

This weekend's question...

Where is your special place or sacred space? How often do you go there? What does going there bring you?

May peace be with you and yours...

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Cancer Sucks...

It has become real cool these days to sport at least one elastic band around your wrist. My family wears the yellow "Live Strong" wrist bracelet. We also wear buttons proclaiming "Cancer Sucks." My sister-in-law’s body is ravaged by 4th stage cancer.

It is a miracle she is still with us. The driving force in her valiant year-long battle is her 14 year old son whom she doesn’t want to leave without his mom. Like my aunt before her, she worked in the health care profession and should have recognized and acted upon the warning signs that tried to grab her attention. I'm sure things would have been handled differently if given the opportunity but life doesn’t give us "do overs."

Teresa’s life consists of trips every three weeks to the Cancer Treatment Center in Illinois for what is purportedly the most "kick ass"chemotherapy available. In between she is in and out of hospitals to deal with its complications. Now I have back problems that some day will require surgery so I have learned to live with pain but I wouldn’t embarrass myself by claiming to know the degree of pain my sister-in-law must endure every minute of her life. Then there’s the ancillary hardships that increase the burden, most pressing of which is trying to remain financially solvent in the face of rising medical bills. Computers that generate shut off notices could care less that you’re waging war for your very life.

Needless to say she gets discouraged. If you feel moved to send her a card to help lift her spirits, please send it to: Teresa Wiley, 203 Canal St., Augusta MI 49012. (It would be appreciated.)

What has happened to Teresa has been a wake-up call for me to cherish every moment and every opportunity that comes my way, to take nothing for granted. It has tempered my tendency to want to feel sorry for myself. It has given me a different perspective from which I determine my priorities. Today’s question is an invitation to share...

What wake-up calls have you received and how have they changed your life?

May peace be with you and yours...

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Are We Guilty?

Many of you know that a couple of weeks ago I embarked upon a journey to write a book, a story I am sure was placed in my hands by God herself, a book God himself wants written. This exercise has renewed my appreciation for divine inspiration. I’ll admit the bias I bring to this project. I don’t buy the use of "because that’s the way we’ve always done it" as the sole justification for anything. I believe that any time one considers an issue, a dilemma or problem, maturity of judgement requires that there is no limit to what is placed on the table of consideration. Anything great that’s ever come at any point in history was born out of an open mind. With that said, here’s a little snippet...

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO JOHN M.

1 I didn’t set out to write a gospel. 2 But then I wasn’t expecting what happened when I visited the secret place of my childhood, a sacred space I always returned to when I found my life in transition. But more about that later. 3 What could I possibly have to say that hasn’t been said already by the four gospels of the current canon and an unfolding tradition covering two millenia? 4 But I was urged to take another look.

5 Instead of bringing the ancient and timeless truths of sacred texts forward, institutional religion at times seems more intent on placing its closed mind in a backpack and hiking back in time to justify itself. 6 I was reminded that we don’t have a gospel that concerns itself exclusively with recounting who Jesus was, what he had to say, what he asked us to consider doing and what happened to him as a result. 7 We have some of that in its purest form in the gospel of Mark which embellishes least upon the primary source Q known by all of the gospel writers. 8 By the time Matthew, Mark, Luke and John sat down to commit to writing what had been to that point an oral tradition, followers found themselves removed from eyewitnesses to the actual events that took place. 9 When they did write they faced particular challenges and circumstances that necessitated their intentional filtering of the story to address and answer those concerns. 10 The result I was told were texts that perhaps better reflected the birth and infancy of an institution than the story of the man who was its cornerstone.

Today’s question then is...

Is organized religion, our practice of faith, our religious experience, to any extent guilty of being concerned more with self-justification than it is with coming to know the heart, spirit and soul of Jesus? If so, where today do you see this playing out most?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

What Are You Looking For?

Because there are multiple spiritual paths and each of us advances along the path of his choosing at different rates, we may not find such a common thread when considering what our number one spiritual need or hunger is. When I started to think of examples, I realized early on that such a list could be endless.

My number one spiritual hunger is for community. Since becoming a xanganian a month ago, I have met and connected with some of the most incredibly amazing people representing a vast diversity of spiritual maturity and insight. Although there can be some degree of satisfaction entering into "virtual" relationships or community, "knowing" these people has stirred a longing to surround myself with their likes. I wonder what it would be like if we could live together in a small village out in the middle of nowhere. What kind of community might be possible? Imagine being nurtured, inspired, recharged in such a place! I know such a community could help me rise and ascend to the next level.

Expressing my own greatest longing is in no way intended to stifle or limit your own reflection for it is in the richness of a diverse response that we find ourselves most enriched. In that spirit, today's question is:...

What is your number one spiritual need at this moment in your life? What represents your greatest spiritual hunger? What are you looking for?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Would Jesus Have Blogged?

Yesterday's discussion in The Theologian's Cafe focussed on whether xanga relationships helped or hindered real life relationships. Taking the discussion one step further, I began to wonder if God had sent a Jesus or Muhammad or Buddha to us today, would they have had a xanga? Would they have used their xanga to share their message? How would they have promoted their xanga?

Let's face it. Not too many of us nowadays make our living as fishermen. We don't walk or ride the back of an ass to journey to our place of worship. We don't challenge ourselves spiritually by going to the river bank to repent at the hands of a guy who eats locusts and wears camel skin. Quite frankly, folks back then couldn't possibly have imagined life as we know it today with blogs, cell phones and text messaging. Yet our spiritual quest takes us back to such a time and place to try to figure out what we are to do in the day and age in which we find ourselves.

I'd like to pose a series of questions based on this general theme...

If Jesus, Muhammad or Buddha walked among us today, would they have a xanga to help promote their teachings and their path? How would they promote their xanga? Would anyone notice? What today would trouble them the most? In a nutshell, what would their message be?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Who Is Your Spiritual Mentor?

Yesterday many wrote in their xangas about their memories of 9/11 and its impact. As we searched our collective soul in its immediate aftermath, we enjoyed a heightened awareness of something that is ordinarily lacking in our experience - heroes. Real life heroes. We became acquainted with a lot of heroes as their stories were told and retold and the inspiration born of their heroism helped heal our nation.

I have noticed recently some xangas discussing their expectations of spiritual guides, advisors or mentors. Do these comments about what we would like to see in a good spiritual mentor suggest that there is currently a void? Who are our spiritual heroes?

My question today is:...

Do you have a spiritual mentor? If so, who is it? Would you be willing to tell the story of your spiritual mentor to inspire members of the xanga community in their spiritual growth?

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Life After Death

AN OPEN INVITATION TO ALL QUANTUM PHYSICISTS AND STRING THEORISTS: With the exception of allusions to your field by the likes of Wayne Dyer and Marianne Williamson, I plead relative ignorance and invite you to weigh in on the thoughts I share today.

Doesn’t science teach that all matter is made up of particles that are in constant motion? Nothing is static. All matter therefore is alive in the sense it is continuously in process, continuously unfolding. Even after I die and life as I know it expires, what remains is matter that will continue to evolve even as my physical body decomposes.

And how about that which I cannot see... my thoughts, my ideas, my feelings, my longings, my will? Most of us have experienced intuition at work, knowing or sensing something without seeing or without prior knowledge. How can this be unless these too are made up of particles and therefore enjoy an existence of their own? And if this is the case, then they too are continuous, in process, ever unfolding.

I am awed by the cyclical rhythm that encompasses nature. Living in the midwest, the seasons illustrate this rhythm for me each year as I take in the shoots, buds and blossoms of spring, the abundance and fullness of summer, the transformation and harvest of autumn and the dormancy and stillness of winter. I witness the mild, balmy freshness of spring’s wind and the refreshing nurture of her rain marking the season of newness and promise. I experience the brightness and warmth of summer’s sun call forth the season of activity, enjoyment and play. I feel the crispness of autumn’s air return and behold the unparalleled splendor of fall’s colorful fireworks ushering in the season of recollection and melancholy. I prepare to be blanketed by winter’s snowy darkness in the season of repose. Every year the seasons retell nature’s story of life and makes me a participant.

I also hold in wonder nature’s way of reconstituting herself. Every summer newscasts flash images of fighting wildfires out west. A trip to Wyoming in the fall of 2000 made it all real to me as I saw and was saddened by the magnitude of devastation. But what seems like death and destruction is actually nature renewing herself for in the midst of the charred scars left in the wake of disaster emerges the shoots of new life. In the midwest there are hints of the same renewal along countless paths taken by tornados. My faith reassures me we will witness the same along the gulf coast devastated by Katrina’s fury.

The testimony of nature both consoles me and enlightens me that even though I love life fully, I need never fear death. Death is never an end. It is merely another passage in the continual unfolding and renewal of life. I believe something of me existed before I was born and something of me, something very real, will live on even after my death.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Longing

I wonder what kind of objections (if any) would be raised if I were to claim that one of, if not the, most important goals in life is to find fulfillment... Fufillment of heart, spirit and soul. Fulfillment implies reaching my destination, achieving my goals. It indicates the end of the quest and the cessation of all longing and hunger. It seems that fulfillment is the harvest of the spiritual quest. But is fulfillment even possible? Does fulfillment exist?

Looking back at my childhood, whenever a birthday or Christmas neared, there was always one gift that I wanted more than any other. Something I just had to have. The toy that would complete my life. I was fortunate (or spoiled) to get that one gift most of the time. But something curious happened. "It" didn't turn out to be "all that." Not long after gaining that which I wanted most I found it no longer captured my interest or fascination. The one thing that was to have completed my life merely gave rise to the next longing.

This irony continued to play out as my life unfolded. When I graduated from high school and left the family nest to claim the world and greet my new life under the power of my own wings, I thought I was sure I had arrived. Fulfillment. But the initial taste of freedom and autonomy only gave rise to further longings. I set out to find success... a good job, a position of prominence, sufficient wealth to live a comfortable life.

But this didn't lead to fulfillment either. I discovered that, even if I were to acquire every possession I ever wanted, if I had no one to share it with I had nothing. And so my quest for fulfillment led me to look for a soul mate with whom I could build my own nest and raise a family. But fulfillment remained elusive and so I set out to show the world that it couldn't realize its full potential without me.

Is fulfillment possible? Certainly if fulfillment were real, it would be something GOD experiences. But does He? I can't imagine a Divine Creator or a Divine Author pausing to take a look at nature, the world and all that inhabits it, or even (or especially) humanity and feeling "fulfilled." There is no way the created reflects what GOD intended it to be. However disappointed, frustrated or yes, even angry, GOD hasn't given up on us yet. Thus not even GOD knows fulfillment. Instead He is driven by longing.

Longing is what keeps life unfolding in the direction of something that will remain beyond our reach - fulfillment. Longing gives birth to hope and dreams. Longing is what motivates us. Longing, not fulfillment, is the most important goal for without it we would cease to be.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Diversity

In some circles diversity is feared. Closely aligned with affirmative action, diversity is taken as a threat to the status and standing of the majority. Some people really believe that unless you look like or talk "American", you don't belong here. Lost in this view is any connection to the origins of our nation as the "melting pot" of the world.

The real gift and beauty of diversity is its inherent irony. It opens our mind to the richness of human experience and opens our eyes to the fact that, no matter how different from each other we may seem on the surface, we are fundamentally one united by the same longings of the heart. Imagine the impact genuine diversity could have on the face of the earth... if instead of fearing each other we embraced each other in partnership in this thing we call "life." Diversity is a spiritual value that cries out to be an alternative to the "do it the way of the mighty and powerful" attitude prevalent in today's world.

Sisters and brothers all are we!

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Ripples

There’s an almost poetic quality to the image of a stone cast out upon the water setting into motion a series of ripples from the point of impact. The size of the stone and manner of impact determines the rhythm and shape of the rippling. Though they fade as they journey outward, the ripples are felt nonetheless along whatever route they take. Even should they encounter something that alters their pattern or course, they continue on into time nevertheless.

Every thought and every act likewise sends forth ripples out into the universe. We cannot therefore take the consequences of our actions lightly for they potentially color, alter or shape the course of history. Tremendous responsibility is placed on us when we consider the scope of influence of our thoughts and actions.

9/11 was a defining moment in history and has forever changed the way we view life and interact with the world. Our collective innocense and naivete was replaced by anger and fear. The ripples set into motion when the towers fell will continue to gently pass over us and color our experience forever.

We likewise cannot underestimate the effect the ripples of our nation’s policy will have both upon us and our world. In a climate where the electorate has indicated a concern for moral values, it has been sad to watch our president’s seriocomic attempts to redefine and place a noble spin on our involvement in Iraq. The real tragedy is the rippling effect of our presence there is stirring up so much more cynicism, ill regard and outright hatred for our country and its intentions than any good that could possibly come from it. We cannot beat the world over the head with our might in an attempt to pound it into submission to our will and at the same time hold on to any hope that the world will come to respect us.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

"Saved"

I haven't posted in a couple of days because GOD has been hard at work in my life. As a result, I find myself more excited and anticipative about what lies ahead than I have been in a long, long time. This morning I was saved.

I recall a comment recently blanket posted by a rather zealous Christian across xangas associated with a spiritual themed blogring. In it tyler_is_not_important used the usual fundamentalistic lexicon about the need to be saved and the necessity of inviting Jesus into my heart as my personal savior in order to share in the redemptive/salvific benefits of the cross. There are committed christians everywhere who can time, date and circumstance stamp the moment each was "saved."

I believe whole-heartedly that Jesus was more than a mere historical figure and that his life and teachings draw us closer into the experience of GOD than was available to man before him. That in Jesus GOD took on our humanity, walked in our shoes and embraced the totality of our human experience, including the warts, flaws and cracks - even suffering and death - is what the incarnation is all about. I believe there is redemptive value to the life of Jesus and that the more intimately one enters into a relationship with him the richer the level of meaning and purpose his or her life can acquire. I believe that any salvific value to the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus, i.e "the cross," is a matter of grace and therefore subject to GOD's rules rather than man's. Given the countless ways and ceaseless efforts of the Creator throughout history to reach out to the created in search of a relationship and the myriad ways the created have found to turn away is a testament to the immensity and generosity of GOD's grace.

I guess this all boils down to my feeling "saved" by GOD many times - today included - and I can only hope there are many more! I woke up this morning keenly aware that GOD had a special task in mind and had chosen me to carry it out - to write a book GOD wants written! Thinking I was just going to sleep in on a lazy Saturday morning, when I awoke my mind was too busy with the flood of inspiration and ideas that danced within it. I have long felt that writing was to be a part of who or what I am all about and this morning GOD put his stamp of approval on it. Oh how good it is to feel that you have a special purpose, that what you have been chosen to do is vitally important and that GOD is at your side to give you whatever it takes to bring it all to fruition! Today I feel... "saved!"

And may all of you too be "saved," finding yourselves called to a special purpose only you can fulfill!

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Jennifer - Part One

When I set up my xanga, I envisioned it as an opportunity to recall the experiences that have defined me and to share the spiritual insights these privileged moments revealed to me. I departed in my last post with a highly academic discourse. With this post I return to the style of writing I prefer - conversation from the heart.

In the summer of 1984, just twenty-one months into my priesthood and less than two weeks following my reassignment as associate pastor of a large lakeside community church, a car accident took the life of Jennifer. Just days before what would have been the start of her senior year at the local Catholic High School, Jennifer had been crowned blossom queen. Acknowledged by her peers as the person most likely to succeed in her class, her life held so much promise. A missed curve and an appointment with a tree altered not only her destiny, but the lives of her classmates, the community and this young, unseasoned priest.

News of the tragedy spread quickly and a stunned senior class began to assemble the following morning in the school cafeteria to cry, to question and to grieve. Long before tragedies like Columbine and 9/11 led to the formation of disaster response counseling teams, I entered the school alone to help them begin to cope with their loss, and I felt so inadequate.

Some just shook their heads in disbelief, some recounted their last moments spent with her, some recalled the lyrics of a song that said what they felt inside but could not put into words and all shed a stream of tears of love and loss. I prayed; we prayed together. Mostly I listened. Anything I gave that day came from the heart, spirit and soul.

As the gathering of students continued to grow, it was increasingly difficult for me to make myself available to the numbers. In what was nothing less than a moment of inspiration, I backed my van up to the cafeteria, unloaded the sound equipment I used to deejay dances and set it up. One at a time Jennifer’s friends and classmates came to the microphone to share with the gathering what she had meant to them and how they felt. They played the songs that spoke for their broken hearts (Chicago’s "Hard Habit To Break" was a favorite). And we prayed - for Jennifer, for her family and for ourselves.

It is popularly held that Church is not the building, but is the people who gather within its walls. We were all Church that day and together we were healed.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Sacred Texts, Community & Contemporary Concerns

In the previous post, I shared my own view that to fully unlock the timeless truths contained in sacred texts (including, but not restricted to the Bible) requires an appreciation that these texts are stamped by a specific time and place (reflecting a culture and history), that they give voice (sometimes multiple voices) to crises, questions or concerns relevant within that temporal and cultural context, and that the answers or understanding sought or given reflect an intimate relationship between GOD and a people or person. In some instances this resulted in the canonization of an accepted norm and in others advanced a view contrary to contemporary norms. This position does not hinder in any way the belief that a sacred text is divinely inspired nor does it attempt to minimize the defining role a sacred text has on the community from which a tradition is born or its descendants who continue to adhere to it.

To identify with a community is to also identify with the sacred texts and tradition which define it. To disassociate oneself from these sacred texts and tradition, for whatever reason (often disagreement over an associated tenet or teaching), runs the risk of self-alienation from the community or excommunication. Indeed it has become fashionable today, irregardless of the religious tradition to which one belongs, to choose from a cafeteria menu those items found to be palatable and disregard the rest. The pope recently criticized those who embrace their faith in such a piecemeal fashion.

On the other hand there is the example of Jesus, who identified himself both with a community and its sacred texts and tradition, rising to challenge the accepted norms of his contemporaries as failing to reach the higher standard (spirit of the law) to which he challenged those who aspired to follow him. The Pharisees figured to have the right formula for ensuring favor with GOD, busying themselves with determining which of the 613 prescriptions of Jewish law were the biggies, the ones that "really" counted, the ones to be observed and obeyed above all others. They were careful to perform public acts of piety, one cannot be sure whether to amaze others with their holiness or to solidify their own authority. Jesus’ response to the Pharisees was blistering.

As with the Pharisees, the institutionalization of a community can result in a disconnect between the spirit of the founding spiritual master, the kerygma and the rules of the institution. To those who sense inherent fault or contradiction in a tenet of faith addressing contemporary concerns (either not considered or not considered fully by the founder or kerygma), the institution’s leaders may appear more interested in safeguarding the institution and its authority than it is uncovering the spirit or will of its founder. I am most keenly aware of this tension as the Roman Catholic Church addresses the issue of manditory celibacy for its priests or the contribution and service of women within the ecclesial community. There are other emotionally charged issues that have become divisive and tempt an institution to take the moral low ground, concerning itself more with its own authority than with allowing the mind and spirit of the community’s founder to weigh in on the issue or concern.

It is precisely for this reason that we not cease unlocking the timeless truths found in our sacred texts. I disagree with those who quote from sacred texts in support of their own closed-minded opinions (interpolation). We are obliged instead to consider the sacred text in its entirety to extrapolate the mind and spirit behind the voice(s). Revisiting our sacred texts to uncover the timeless truths that speak to the issues that concern us serves a vital prophetic role in the evolution of the community and ensures a connectedness between the spirit of the founding master, the kerygma and the rules of the institution.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Perspective

This weblog gives me the chance to write, not as the ordained minister of an organized religion or church, but as a brother traveler along the spiritual path called life, speaking from my heart of the things I have discovered as well as the things I still seek. I have had the privilege of being invited to enter into people's lives in their most intimate moments. I have encouraged and consoled along the path with the lost, the weak, the questioning, the hurt and broken, the sick and dying. I have also celebrated along the path with the joyful, the hopeful and the dreaming. Although there is much I do not understand, I have come to believe that there truly is a time and purpose for everything under the heavens.

A friend who frequently visits my journal wrote that when I give advice "all I can do is point and hope you look." I have observed before that it is misdirected to approach the Creator without keeping in mind free will. GOD gives to us in so many wonderful ways from the gift of life itself to surrounding us with a breath taking world to bringing into our life people of such extraordinary love and example to enabling us to find our way through and find meaning in the darkest moments of our existence. At no point does GOD impose herself - She remains always a gift and we are given the choice of embracing or turning away from her.

My experience has shown me that GOD reveals herself in a unique way to each person, having called each by name before he was born and having counted the very hairs on her head. It is for this reason that I hold that religion and spirituality cannot ever be considered in a "one size fits all" manner. I do not therefore judge whatever helps another along his spiritual path, unless it imposes constraints that prohibit others from finding their own path.

Allow me to end today's reflection with a word about scripture. In my life and experience I have discovered many truths that stand alone on the weight of their own authority. One need not cite a passage from a sacred text to urge another to embrace such truths. I think sacred texts can be abused this way.

Sacred texts throughout antiquity are loaded with truths that can help us along our spiritual path. To unlock the full power and meaning of these texts requires that we appreciate first and foremost that, despite divine inspiration, they are of human origin and reflect a people in a given time and place in history profoundly aware and in awe of the relationship GOD held with them. The truths of these sacred texts, though timeless, are best revealed when they are considered within that specific historical context and divine-human relationship.

I also believe that GOD is a living GOD and that GOD's Spirit continues to breathe divine inspiration through an artist's canvas, a songwriter's lyric and an author's pen (computer). These works also reveal truths equally timeless and capable of redeeming or healing a broken world.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Spiritual Identity and Healing

Today's post is born out of frustration over a family member’s six year bout with depression. Frustration hasn’t been a stranger to her either. "When am I going to start to feel better?" she asks, her voice revealing that hope has long been lost. "I sure wish there was a pill I could take to make this all go away." Crippled by a lack of motivation, she lives out her days hiding in bed whenever she can. Three psychiatrists and five psychotherapists later, she lists through life like the sinking Titanic.

Her family figures her husband is to blame. After all, she seemed strong and in control of her life before they met. As her sister tells it, "He has manipulated you to bring you down because he can’t handle you being strong and standing up to him." Her family hasn't a clue. All they see is their daughter, granddaughter, sister and mother who is no longer the strong person she used to be and it tears them apart.

Distancing myself from the impassioned assessments of family, an impartial look reveals a woman in the midst of a mid-life transition that has knocked her off her square. Married just out of high school, life with her first husband took her to Germany for two years. With homesickness ripping her heart apart, she couldn’t handle her husband’s unwillingness to consider returning home. "There just aren’t opportunities for me back home," he would tell her. With all hope dashed that a pregnancy could save her marriage she returned home, alone with child. For 20 years she lived the life of a single parent working full time 3rd shift to purchase a house and very adequately provide for her son, an only child. She was a strong woman, even heroic for all she had accomplished.

At the time her current husband entered her life, she found herself imprisoned by an empty nest, her now twenty something son taking flight to find his own life. Without her son to provide for anymore, there was no longer an inherent purpose to her getting up to work 3rd shift. Disability and medical retirement soon followed.

She would tell you she would freeze her relationship with her son as well as with her parents and siblings in time if she could. Today when she looks at her son, his wife and their newborn, emotionally she still pictures the grade school child dependent on his mother’s love and care. Until she has gone through the grief work associated with her loss, her investment will never be where it belongs - with her husband, their life together and pursuing their dreams.

Contrary to her family's belief, it’s not the poor husband's fault. He has stood valiantly and patiently beside her. In one respect, he too is a victim of her depression and her inability to invest herself in their life together. Even though six years have come and gone without relief, a solution is not as distant as it may seem. I hunch healing has been so elusive because a psychological solution was sought to what was and is a spiritual problem.

Even though the ego tries to get me to identify myself by what I have or what I do, I’ve come to appreciate that life simply cannot be defined in terms of possessions or circumstances because neither are permanent. In order to find a solid foundation for life I must look deep within, to my very heart and soul, to discover who I really am. Although I can elicit the help of a spiritual guide, I am the only one who can see that deep inside me. Only there will I find an identity that cannot be compromised by a loss of possessions or changes in circumstance. This heart, spirit and soul identity gives me a real strength to counter the influence of the ego enabling me to live life with freedom, fulfillment and happiness.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Just a Couple Thoughts on LOVE...

I have enjoyed and tried to genuinely listen to the rather rich and eloquent reflections shared on xanga about love... about God's love vs the ego's love. As I have said before, I think the more who enter into a conversation or discussion, the closer we come to the truth. My own reflection kept coming back to a single thought - that we are immersed in what will always be to us a mystery. GOD is GOD and I/we are not. A spiritual director back in my seminary days once told me spiritual maturity comes when I can truly be at peace with the questions I may never answer.

In its purest, most genuine form, I think love ceases to be a noun and becomes a verb. Love is not an entity we possess for it simply does not exist until it is given. I think we start to get it all wrong when we reflect upon love as a "thing" and begin to do what the ego does best - quantify it. Do I have it? Am I loved? How do I best love? By the time ego takes over, I may start to feel sorry for myself because I don't have enough of it or may wonder where I might find it or how I can get more of it. Perhaps I might pity that some don't have as much of it as I think they should. By this point we have lost touch with it altogether.

That we say GOD is love and speak of GOD's love as gift is recognition of love for what it really is... GOD giving GOD, self giving in its totality. It is GOD's infinite and eternal self expression. Thus love does not come into being until I, like GOD, have given it away... completely and continuously. You cannot capture it in a picture, prose or a lyric and say, "Here it is... See it?" Make no mistake about it - even though I cannot "see" love doesn't mean it is intangible.

Now if I accept that everything reflects GOD's self-gift, i.e. "love", then I must also recognize the fundamental oneness that unites my existence with GOD and with all creation. Thus when any one person hurts or suffers, all hurt and suffer. Because I am most authentically who I am when I give myself away, I am spiritually obligated to be mindful of opportunities I may have to address or alleviate the hurt and suffering in the world. I am also spiritually obligated not to take from the world beyond my need (hence the name of my xanga and my personal spiritual goal to leave a "gentle footprint"). I am not talking here about ego needs, which define the drive for power, prestige and possessions. You see, I believe strongly that there is plenty in this world to adequately sustain us all as well as all who will follow after us... if we do not take beyond our spiritual need.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Traversing the Spiritual Path

There are two kinds of people... those who by going through the right motions give the appearance of possessing a certain quality or characteristic and those who by the example of the life they lead demonstrate they possess that quality or characteristic. I've been debating with family which constitutes the characteristic of strength. It simply does not follow for me that because a person can stand up to people, speak their mind or finagle getting what they want that that person is strong. For me strength is something that is found deep within a person, a quality that constitutes and shapes who a person is, what she or he holds as foundational and what a person dreams or seeks to become. Even though it seems from time to time religion might actually endorse going through the motions when it calls for observing certain rites or public or private acts of piety, appearance doesn't advance a person down the spiritual path. To think that GOD can be conjurred up, captured and ordered to
meeting our need or purpose is simply fooling ourselves. Perhaps that is why I personally espouse spirituality to be a greater or higher virtue than religiosity.

Traversing the spiritual path requires that we be willing to meet GOD on GOD's terms, not our own. It requires a deep, fundamental openness to discovering or encountering GOD in unfamiliar or unexpected ways (perhaps this is why Jesus used the image of approaching GOD as a child). Sadly, there are some (even who are well-intentioned, deliberate and persistent) who walk past GOD failing to recognize the divine because the encounter does not take on the image or experience they preconceived. The demands life places on our time and resources in this day and age further distract or hamper our progress along the spiritual path. Finally,
there are a myriad of voices out there vying for our attention, but
which among them is the voice of truth that will lead to spiritual
enlightenment and communion with GOD?

Jesus chose to live out his own spiritual path in community, in the company of a small group he sought out. Community is an essential dimension to progressing along the spiritual path. Unfortuantely, however, the communities we belong to are defined by the neighborhoods we grew up or work in or the Church we attend. As a result all too often we contend with our broken lives or lives void of meaning and purpose utterly alone. I would love to assemble and live in community with others who share the same spirtual hunger, who seek after the same values and purpose. Until then, I am grateful I can journey along my spiritual path with the xanga community at my side.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Jesus Schmalzified

What has Christianity done to Jesus? I know today's thoughts are sure to ruffle a few feathers, but then so did Jesus when, upon arriving in Jerusalem, he entered the Temple and rid it of the moneychangers and marketeers thus fronting the Jewish hierarchy.

Please hear me out before discounting this reflection as blasphemous. Jesus, a man faith proclaims to be one with GOD or GOD's equal, manifests unbounded power that could have been directed toward his own personal gain or greatness. It is noteworthy however that in every instance Jesus never sought that for himself. When Jesus intervened, it was not to win kudos for himself but to direct the beneficiary toward his loving heavenly Father. When Jesus taught, he raised the bar by challenging his listeners not to find contentment in a minimalist approach to the commandments but to fulfill the very heart and spirit of the law. Jesus was not about the business of condemning or judging persons. He challenged those who would follow him to rise to the spirit of the law and prophets and be prepared to be judged on the merit of one's actions. Jesus' life on earth wasn't lived as a king. He was a selfless servant, giving totally out of love all the way to the cross!

Christians would do well to revisit its founder and his message and reconnect with the spiritual basis of Jesus' life and teachings. In their prayer, Christians appear to call on Jesus to claim entitlements that Jesus never claimed for himself. In the last election followers of Jesus, who judged not and challenged not to cast the first stone unless free of sin, urged voters to ignore his example and embrace their political agenda. The truth is neither political party's platform espouses the highest principles Jesus challenges his followers to embrace. Finally, would Jesus, who consistently made the Father the focus of his teachings and works, be comfortable with discarding his example here as well?

It's time to stop making milk toast of Jesus. Schmaltzifying him does not pay proper homage to this extraordinary man whose life ran against the grain of the culture and society of his day. Wrapping our lives in pursuit of the very things Jesus shunned - popularity, prestige, power and pride - is not worthy of the name given his followers.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

The Best We Can Hope For

Each day I spend two hours on the road commuting to and from work. In order to make the most of this otherwise lost time I became a premium listener at Audible.com and started downloading audiobooks to playback during the drive. I prefer a good, suspense-filled mystery, the kind of book where just about the time you think you have things figured out there's an unexpected twist. Recently, however, I took a break from the genre to give a couple of self-help titles a try.

As I listened to some of the acclaimed gurus of motivation and pop psychology, my listening habits began to change. I discovered the pause button and became a more interactive listener, taking whatever time I wished to let what I'm hearing filter through my own thoughts and experience.

Among the several worthy pearls of wisdom I've embraced is a personal favorite, Wayne Dyer's charge to not die with your music still in you from which I derived my own personal mantra, "the soul is an endless song; life is but its dance." There is, however, a common theme running through these works that I'm not sure I buy into. Each seems in its own way to present the world or universe as an endless font of wealth and abundance from which, if I maintain the right attitude or play my cards right, I can tap into or draw from whenever I sense the need. Further, following the law of karma, I can virtually be assured that "only goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life."

I'll admit that in a world of broken, disconnected and empty people, such a message will be extremely appealing and, quite frankly, will sell books and fill lecture halls. But I see an inherent flaw in that the world or universe is not merely a "thing" from which I can take or expect that that which I desire will fall in my lap as I would have it. The world or universe is also 'being," a life being lived in time even if the time frame far surpasses my own. If I hold that the universe is merely a wellspring of energy from which I can rape or rob to acquire what I want or need, then I am embracing a principle that would equally apply to me or any other living being. Is my purpose, or that of anyone else for that matter, merely to hang out so that folks can take from me whatever they please?

If indeed I am a spiritual being having a human experience, then I must tread gently along this sojourn called life. The universe doesn't revolve around me or exist to supply my needs. It is itself being, like me a traveler in search of it's self and purpose. I must dwell at peace and in harmony with her. Misuse, disrespect and natural disaster bring want, loss and brokenness to her just as they would to me.

This universe therefore is not my endless source of abundance. I stand to gain the most when I befriend her and peacefully coexist with her. Perhaps nowhere is this truth more cherished than in native american spirituality.

To illustrate, imagine a swimmer in trouble. For most, panic will set in motion the frantic kicking of the arms and legs in an attempt to stay afloat. For me this symbolizes our attempt to grab what we need from the world about us. Yet it is precisely this desperation that leads to the very fate instinct is trying to avoid, for the swimmer will surely fatigue. Energy spent, the swimmer will eventually surrender to the sea. Had the swimmer instead chosen to be at peace and in harmony with the water, he could have remained afloat quite effortlessly and tirelessly; perhaps even quite naturally given that life begins in the water of a mother's womb.

So sorry gurus of self-help. You have it all wrong here! There is no formula or magic that can guarantee a life without want, loss or brokenness. But we can find comfort, safety and survival in simply living at peace and in harmony with the universe.

© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.