Called Out

The original word for church is Ekklesia, or Ecclesia, depending on how you want to transliterate. It means literally "called out". That Ec- is still in English with the same meaning: Ecstatic, Eccentric.

I am called out. I recently realized...no I'm trying to be more literal...God recently told me that my new diet and the condition that led to its necessity are not an accident, nor a flaw. I was being set apart and this is a mark of it. Like John the Baptist with his skins and locusts, Elijah, Jeremiah, David, Samson, the list goes on...all are set apart for God's purposes and all had outward signs that made them stand out.

I cannot eat the food of the culture. I must live on a simple diet. I am not upset by it actually. It perfectly suits my personality...imagine that, being suited to our lot. So I will not look at this as a fault or a cross to bear. To me it is a joy. I've never experienced this aspect of life, though I've read about it often. I am glad in what many would see as difficult.

I've also often talked about being drug into this life. It was chosen for me and I had little to do about it. Much like Jonah, I couldn't even run from it when I tried. To not do it makes me sick. I was tired of being sick. I was tired of feeling bad. I had prayed this so often. God has answered my prayers.

I'm not pretending that life will be happily ever after. I'm just rejoicing in this newfound release. I'm celebrating in having been chosen for this life.

I saw my mentor and spiritual director last week as well, and as usual, he spoke right into me in a way that even he does not understand until he sees my reaction to it. He confirms for me who I am and tells me that I am not insane. I'm not going to explain what he said or how it affected me because it is too personal.

I am very thankful right now.

Fast

It's been a while since my last entry because I've been busy with some things. I was having headaches again so I decided to make an appointment with the doctor. The doctor I'd been going to couldn't see me for months (sidebar: what's the point of limiting the number of patients a doctor sees if you still have too many to get an appointment within a few days? American medicine needs major reform.) So I had to find another doctor. Fortunately my insurance is pretty good and allows a lot of flexibility, so I found another that came recommended and went.

This turned out, like most things, to be a blessing in disguise because this doctor is WAY better. She actually practices medicine instead of guesswork. Where the previous doctor would say, "could be X...try this." and repeat endlessly, this doctor actually runs tests and verifies assumptions before acting. She also has a much more holistic expertise so instead of saying, "well I'm an X-ologist, so I think it has to be X-itis"...which incidentally makes me want to pitch them from the window! Why would I pay all that money and time to have them do what I could do on the Internet! Their license should be revoked!... anyway, this doctor actually cultured my sinuses and then prescribed an antibiotic that she knew this infection was sensitive to. She also recognized symptoms of another complex condition and suggested a two-part course of treatment.

The long and short is that the root of most of my health issues is allergies. Apparently people who are highly sensitive to things like I am don't often exhibit classic allergy symptoms to most of them, but the constant state of physiologic stress does other things to a person. They will spiral down into other allergic sensitivities, depression, malaise, aches...even the acidic stomach condition I had is caused by allergic reactions, mostly to things we eat. In fact, even IBS is now thought to be linked to it. What I discovered in my confirmation research on the doctor's opinion was that many things which doctors traditionally call "mental" or "stress-related" could in fact be equally as likely the polar opposite. The mind-body connection goes both ways, so what I was thinking was a psychosomatic condition may very well have been a physiologic condition that was causing the other problems.

God is wonderful. He is answering my prayers in His time and in ways that I could not imagine. This doctor is confident that she can turn off my reactions permanently, and even more so that she can reduce them through this course of adaptive management...which rings so true with my own scientific understanding.

So one of the first things I had to do was a serious elimination diet. I had to purge myself of all the reactions. This meant cutting out everything I tested positive to and anything else that could potentially have a problem. I basically ate whole foods I prepared myself. Nothing from a package because of hidden additives, nothing with unknown spices. Meat, certain grains, certain fruits, certain leaves. That's it. She warned me that it would not be easy and that patients often go into depression because of it. I knew from my cold turkey refined sugar halt a few years ago that there can be weird withdrawals and I steeled myself to endure.

I prayed that it would be a fast to God. An honoring of Him with my diet. And you know what, while I have missed a few things, there have been no cravings. Coupled with the almost immediate changes in my overall condition, I became even more assured. I began feeling things that I have, seriously, no memory of ever feeling before. You might not understand this, but I had to ask my wife what was happening to me because I had never known what the pangs in my stomach were that occurred just before meal times. I had never known what it is to be sated and steady in the stomach and then to have it gnaw and growl on regular intervals when more food is needed. I'd seen it on TV, but I thought it was dramatization. There have been many other such changes and awakenings.

Now I am in the stage of slowly introducing single dietary elements to track reactions. The end goal is to widen my diet to a comfortable level. But I already know that I won't go back to eating like I did. This suits my natural bent so much more. It suits my spiritual bent. It's like when I discovered Parkour as the physical element I'd been seeking...I know this is now a lifelong fit. It forms a puzzle piece that locks into my being. I don't need a wide diet. I'm perfectly comfortable eating a few simple things all the time. It is how most of the world lives and I am no better than they. I don't want to fear what I eat. I am comfortable rejecting mainstream culture in this, not in a fad way, but in a real necessary way. When something makes you sick, the appropriate reaction is to not want it. To do otherwise is a form of madness.

So I know I have a long way to go. I'm just setting out. But I feel so much better. I am committed to this process. I'm surrendering yet another aspect of my life to the redemptive power of Jesus and it requires a radical alteration of my life. And ironically, (actually not, since this has happened in other areas as well) it has nothing to do with the sort of teaching we get from most religious leaders, not getting morally right, not just believing. Quite the opposite actually. It could receive this only after God told me that I must trust the science and medicine. He reminded me that science was created to describe His character just as theology was. He told me to stop relying on works-based systems, faith-healing hocus, and prayer alone. Now I wasn't going around buying prayer towels and stuff, but I was convinced that I God would take care of me and that it was His will that I was where I was at. But God showed me once again the truth I had believed and forgotten: There was a man of faith in a flood who didn't evacuate when told it was coming. A truck came by and offered him a ride, but he refused saying God would save him. The same thing happened as the waters rose and a boat, then a helicopter came. Then the man drowned and asked God why He didn't save him? God replied, "What do you mean?! I sent the truck, boat, and helicopter!"

Intensity

The last few posts have been whiny. It happens. This blog is about my raw reactions to life, so sometimes it gets that way. But I crossed a watershed. Suddenly, I didn't feel that way. I'll probably go there again sometime. But hopefully for not long. Life is not about finding some static place. It oscillates around a central tendency.

I realized that in my low time and doubts that I had forgotten something I once believed. Funny how that happens. God is the God of reason and science and ecology and medicine as well as faith, mystery, etc. These things are not foreign to him, but part of him and from him. I can accept these things and accept him. I know that sounds silly if you aren't in my head, but I don't want to spend too much time on it.

I also remembered that intensity must come out. Not everyone can handle the soft, safe, easy world we create. Some of us need conflict, physical pain, a quest, a cause. We need intensity. I am the poster child for "not everyone", so I feel confident in this. Some of us don't need more hugs, we need an occasional fist. We don't need to sit and be calm, we need to get up and make an impact.

I know this doesn't make sense to everyone, but if you find yourself falling into blahs of gray mindset. Go challenge yourself. You'll be surprised at what you can do. And you'll be surprised at how little it takes to change your mindset. But there needs to be a couple of elements: real danger, and realistic expectations. Without the real danger, the trial is not real. It is hollow. Another Disney version of life. You need to have the very real possibility to get bloody...and that may mean literally. I'm not saying be reckless. But it won't work if you play it too safe. Secondly, you need real expectations because this is not a video game or a movie. You won't be able to take that wall down, or lift that car, or hit that target, or climb that thing, or land that jump, or run that far in one or 10 or 100 attempts maybe. This does not mean you failed. Push yourself to your limit, and then push a little more. And then look at what you've done.

For me the best part is that the world quiets down in these settings. There is only the need of the moment. All else become distant. And the real world comes out. Here's a story. Every week I tear myself to shreds in the woods. It's Parkour training, Tarzan style. Natural movements, climbing, running, jumping, stripped as bare as I can make it. I go get lost in the woods and run until I can barely run anymore. I have no comparison except myself. I know what I did before and what I do now. Slowly I am getting faster, more confident in my steps, more stamina. And then this week after getting much more lost than I intended and running for far longer than usual to get back out, I was almost done with my legs seizing and my back tensing and my feet feeling heavier and heavier. Then I saw a deer on the trail running away from me. I heard in the back of my head a voice say, "chase it!" So I pulled my strength together and ran hard and quiet (which is hard when you're tired). The voice said, "run like your ancestors did!" and I ran fast. Then I saw where the deer had darted into cover and there was no more sound. I knew it was there watching me somewhere. I looked and looked, stifling my breath. Then I saw it looking back at me, not 20 yards off. We stared for a moment and it realized I was not going to kill it. Then it turned and bounded off. I had run down a deer! A real deer! Just like my ancestors and yours have all done. If I had needed food, I would have had it at that point with a quick prayer and arrow. In that moment, I had connected with primal human existence. The kind of existence where God walks beside us and there is only what is. I felt powerful.

So if you know someone who needs this, help them get out. They may not need coddling. Maybe they need regular doses of what is real and primal. Come with me if you want. Learn what you really are. Not this soft lump of mediocre flesh, but the hardened beast that walks upright with sharp mind and sharp eyes, fierce and wise and just. If you feel this pull, it's your birthright. Claim it.

Lonely

Here I am again, pouring out thoughts to no one because there is no one else to listen. I'm so tired of this. If I've got no voice to say what is important to me, then what is my use? What am I accomplishing?

I set up an event today which I had hopes for. No one showed but my own parents. That's ok really. I didn't expect much from it and these kind of things are slow to start. but what does get to me is that only two other people committed to show, and neither did. One didn't because he got the date wrong and called me yesterday asking where I was. The other, I have no idea about. He just didn't show. There could be a good reason, who knows.

Again, I'm not upset about that really. It just compounds the loneliness I've been feeling. Then my son starts his usual dramatics about school. I try to work him through it and come to realize he really is playing it up more than there is real. I sometimes wonder if he's not playing me entirely. He knows I am sympathetic to that kind of thing because I suffer from it myself. I'm sure there's something really there on some level, but I can't get at it. I am shut out even as I try desperately to connect.

Then my wife wants to watch sports on TV. I hate televised sports, especially the big ones. I tell her I don't want to watch that right before bed and she says she never gets to watch it because of me. So I leave the room to let her watch. Then she comes to tell me she is going to bed. Great. Even she doesn't seem to see the loneliness I feel. I tried to tell her. I really did. Explicitly, I said, "when do I get to talk with you? You wanted to watch sports and now not even 30 minutes later, you're going to bed. Where's my time?" I'm sure I've missed something somewhere in here, but I can't freakin' be perfect. I'm getting tired of trying to fill all the gaps. Someone else step up for a while.

Jumble

Today I am confused...what else is new. Yesterday I was in more pain than I have been in a long time. It was the culmination of two full weeks of pain. Then it broke. It also happened to break around the same time I am told by someone that they will pray for me.

One side says I should not be surprised. Prayer works and I have seen it happen this way before. God tells us to take sick to the elders and let them pray over them and they'll be healed. He tells us to pray for each other. But why didn't my own prayers work? Maybe to teach me this trust. Maybe because I need to learn that I can't do it on my own. Maybe because God isn't selfish and therefore his power doesn't work in selfish ways. In other words, maybe it only works when we pray for others. This is even consistent with my experience in spiritualism. The things of God always come selfless. If anything has a hint of personal gain or offers it, flee!

But then the doubting side that has risen up a lot these past two weeks wonders if it isn't all a coincidence. Couldn't I have latered another variable which explains the change? Certainly, I could name a few that I altered last night. Not the least of which was the very act of revealing the problem to its full extent and accepting (i.e. giving in to) it. Couldn't this all be part of the little understood and seemingly miraculous nature of the body to heal itself? The connection between mind and body and spirit?

Compound this with doubts about the rules of the game. If the latter explanation is true, then couldn't my entire faith be the same? Couldn't it just be a culturally derived version of the universal truth that so many talk about? Sure I can argue all of those ideas. I know the points and counter-points, but what is true? Why would God be so secretive about things? If he loves us and is so specific as to hold to one true way, then how come he isn't more explicit about what that way is?

Are the apologetic arguments that I know so well the actual answers? In the end it's all a matter of acceptance. There is nothing as conclusive as gravity about it. It convinces some but not others and vice versa.

Have we just misunderstood? Is the Bible even trustworthy? sure it has a consistent message, but it's a consistent message that was compiled 400 years after the most recent events took place. It's plausible that those people could have been constructing a story. Maybe they even really believed it. Maybe they were truly filled with the Holy Spirit and God directed it to be compiled. The point is I cannot conclusively say!

So go back to my own conversion experience. "I don't know about all these questions but this I know: I was blind and now I see." right? Couldn't that even have been colored by my upbringing so that I projected it into that imagery? I know some who would say so.

Am I abandoning my faith? No. Jesus' name is carved in my arm, literally. I am bound to him for good or ill. Like Paul said, are we not to pitied above all if our faith is misplaced? I could probably have an easier life, maybe even a healthier life if I let go of these things. But I want what is real, not what is easy. I have taken the red pill. I might not always like or understand the real world, but it's better than the matrix. Plus, I still remember the depths from which I came. There was no meaning, no goodness. When I rejected it before, my world became unhinged and to say it plainly, I was a depressed, suicidal, nihilist who didn't care for anyone or anything, least of all myself.

I come from a long line of self-killers. Most of us do it slowly through bad habits and lack of self-care. We were made for something else. This world is not our home. If there is nothing more, then the peace of oblivion is perfect rest. If there is a God waiting, then I am ready to meet him. If there is another world of spirit, I'm up for the adventure. If I get reborn, then I sure hope I'm moving into something better because if not I'll be short-timing it out of that life too.

And yet, for the talk, I still find a bit of self-preservation and caution when my mind gets out of the way. I didn't jump to that limb of the tree like I at first wanted to. I fear the pain leading to death. Perhaps that's it, not fear of death but fear of pain...fear of incapacitation. Fear of losing the ability to make choices for myself.

I can feel the light growing from behind deep inside me. I hope the answers are not far off. God, convince me again of you, even though I don't deserve it.

Pain

Pain changes things. It strips away fluff and pretense. It allows us to show our quality. I have been in pain for nearly two weeks. It ebbs and surges, but does not go away. Nothing I can do works to remove it or even dull it.

Some people become placid in pain. Others stronger. I only crumble. I get short-tempered and angry. I lose control quickly. I fall prey to the demons that lurk in my shadows. I doubt everything. I give up. I want to die. I scare myself.

I don't understand the purpose. I do see how pain can have one, but I don't see any purpose now. I just hurt...physically hurt.

Extrication

I know that I have everything I need. I know this on the level that all my physical needs are met. I know this on the level that I have all the weapons I need to survive. But lately, I haven't felt it.

I've been extremely stressed and angry. My fuse is getting short and tending toward violence. These are not good patterns. Lately, I've even noticed that I'm warm all the time...hot really. My wife even feels cold sometimes when i am uncomfortably warm. I think something is about to happen. I feel it getting close. To throw back to my Twilight metaphor...which as I've said before is a very insightful book series, even if packaged in a tweeny fad fantasy...I feel like Jacob about to become a wolf. I really find that character appealing, even down to the dog aspect...everyone knows I often refer to myself as a sheepdog.

From another perspective, I have too much fire in my belly. I'm not built for a tame life. Something will have to give. I haven't hit my stride yet. I have not made the change. But I have never done well caged. I am no house pet. And what are our homes and jobs and suburban lifestyle but padded cages? We are locked in debt and consumerism and civic duty and propaganda images of the ideal life which keeps us safely oiled parts of the machine of society. This works for some people and I am learning to accept that diversity even though I do not in the least understand it.

I have recently also been searching for my way out. Not a temporary escape, like Japan, though that too was immensely good for me, but a real permanent restructuring around who I am. Who I was made to be. But the old questions still come up. How do my diverse interests and skills tie together? What is that place that I was cut for? I have yet to find it.

But I do feel like I am getting closer to understanding it. I know that it must be a permanent change. I know that it will involve a freedom from the strictures of the "American Dream". I know that it will be free from the strictures of the American church culture. I know that it will not be for profit, and likely not "economically sound". And very lately...today in fact, as I was pleading with God, as I have been for several days now, to give me something, I discovered the core of my existence. I know it because it fits everything I've ever known about myself. It's not even the first time I've had it revealed to me. But this time it is clearer and slightly more defined, like a glimpse through the mist that is slowly blowing by. It's hard to articulate just yet because, like I said, I don't fully know how it will manifest. But I know that I was built to be a voice and protector of the lost of the lost. The marginalized. Those most of us sweep under the rug. The ones who scare the Sunday Christians to death. It's the type of people illustrated in Dominic Balli's video for Warrior and in Mat Kearney's song Down. The most vulnerable and beaten and lost. I want to put my hand between the cutter's blade and arm. Hold the hair of the bulimic. Wherever the deepest hurts are that can't be expressed, that is where I want to be. I want to be the Catcher in the Rye. I want to set up shop at the Gates of Dis. But as you can see, this could manifest in so many ways!

I am becoming prepared for this. I am hardening in body and mind. I am stripping away what is false. I will become what I am made to be and it will be soon. This fire will burst forth like a holy dragon. And this current attack will not stop me. It was a good try, but I know now that I have all the weapons I need and I'm learning how to call them up and wield them.

This has to be because otherwise a long life is pure torture. I can't live in sight of these needs and unable to help. I can't settle back and enjoy the cage. I am John the Baptist, David on the run, Joshua the warrior. Like all the seers before me, i am unable to do anything else. My life is forfeit to God. I will get out. Mark the words.

Similarity and Diversity

I am an ecologist by training. I think in systems and relations, and observe to understand. It's an observational science more than experimental. One thing I know is that the world is wondrously complex. There are innumerable interactions in every place we look. Everything is interrelated in a very real physical sense. We can't even explain or understand the greater portion of them. We don't even know what we don't know, but we are constantly learning how processes we thought we understood are not nearly as simple and are sometimes not even valid systems because of it.

At the same time, there are things that always seem to happen the same way. Patterns that repeat. Order in the chaos. Biological structure is similar on large scales. All vertebrates are built very nearly the same. Our organs function very similarly. Plant structure. Biogeochemical processes. And some things are just plain unified. All life on the planet is built of carbon. The major driving energy source is the sun. No vertebrate has more than 4 limbs. The patterns are even more evident on the microscale.

So these two guiding principles rule our world: There is wondrous diversity and complexity within the self-repeating patterns and unifying factors. The diversity is repeated on all levels, as is the sameness.

I realized recently how this applies to Christianity. Even in the Bible itself, we see great diversity among the writers. Even the writers of the New Testament alone. Each Gospel has it's own flavor, it's own focus. It's more than reinterpretations of the same events to different audiences, though this partly explains it. There are real personal differences in what is important to each author. What stood out to them that Jesus did and said is unique. But they all point to certain things in unison.

The other writers also present varying aspects of the faith. John is all about the divinity and the deeper aspects. Luke describes facts in rigid context and detail. Paul sets out grace and rules for living as Christians. Peter charges hard on foundations of the faith. James focuses on the works of the faith. There is so much diversity in their views that it should be no wonder there is so much diversity of denominations today.

But at the same time, one message is imprinted all the way through. The message of Jesus as savior of humanity. And this salvation by grace through faith. To get the fullest expression of the unified message see the creeds. That is what they were for...to distill the rich fertile wealth of the writings of the faith into a few clear and simple sentences.

But within that framework, there is so much room for diversity, for interpretation, for style. It is like ecology. Both of which bear marks of the common origin of both. No one part contains what the whole is. Yet every part is unique and distinct. Just as God himself is one whole in distinct parts. It's amazing how true this holds. Every avenue I explore yields the same principles.

This is the beauty of God's things. The metaphors don't collapse. The symbolics are repeated in fractal patterns over and over and over as you go up or down or sideways through the system.

How sad that we don't recognize this in our own interactions. You can't improve on it.

You Have All You Need

This has been coming at me from so many angles lately and drumming through my mind. It is true on many levels and I don't even know how to describe it.

I was under a spell...illusioned...taken in by a ploy. The ploy told me that I didn't have all that I need. Not all I needed. It sounded very much like something I would acknowledge and believe, hence the deception. But this often happens that when I am oppressed by something...in this case the awareness of my own finality and vileness...a message is sent to me that will not desist.

I am a new creation. Jesus restored me and has given me life "to the fullest." There is no longer an condemnation for me. While I knew all of this on a different level, now it hits home in a deeper way which many will not understand because they are not inside me.

I was eating a poisoned apple. 99% true with one bit of lie. But any poison makes the apple unfit. And one bad one spoils the bunch, to extend the metaphor. So I was there believing some very true things: I am sinful. I am willfully so. I do not properly regard or react to the grace and gifts given to me. I am naturally depressive. I do have trouble understanding reality. I am angry often. But that's not all I am. This is how I look from the eyes of this world. But the new me, the one that is alive in Jesus' life is whole and perfected and has the entire universe of God's power at my disposal.

Jesus did not come to leave me unprepared. Orphaned again. Left to my own devices. He fixed it. He fixed everything. So I can believe that or I can believe that he did not. That his power is not enough for me.

I needed to hear this from the right places, enough times that it sunk in. I am unstoppable. I have the rest that I seek. I have the joy. It is all right here. There is nothing I lack, nor will there ever be.

I was like the dwarfs at the end of Narnia who refuse to see the provision around them...not for the same reasons as they, but the effect was the same. I could not see nor experience the goodness and the completion because i was too focused on something that is dead and has passed away.

I have all I need.

Punched

I saw the movie Sucker Punch last night. It wasn't great, but it was powerful in its way. Many aspects resonated with me so much so that I'm sitting here late the next night writing about it. If you are the Fan Base, you know that I don't do movie or book reviews. (If you aren't that one person you won't be reading this anyway, so it doesn't matter.) Anyway, by way of setting up my further contemplation, the movie follows a girl who finds herself in circumstances that would unglue the best of us. Then she's placed in an institution that is worse yet. She detaches from reality somewhat and becomes a powerful warrior in her own mind along with a few other inmates. The movie spends most of its time inside this reality as these inmates see it. You only get brief glimpses into how that looked in the "real world" because for them, it was real as they saw it. But the director makes it clear that there is a real world and these fantasy worlds are truly just that. However, even though they are fantasy, the director makes a poignant point about their value.

This self-imagery enables the girls to do in the real world what they could not do on their own. Even though they perceive it in fantastic images and experiences, the outcome is the same in both worlds.

There is also a character which the movie identifies as an angel, which guides and directs them, but does not fight their battles for them. This too is a powerful statement. Especially if, like me, you totter on the edge of sanity.

Perhaps that's why I am so touched and repulsed by the movie all at once. First of all, when I say the edge of sanity, I have to be clear that this is not a hip euphemism. I'm not making a metaphor. I mean it. Having difficulty with reality does not mean we all drool and stare out windows. Most people with "mental difficulties" are very functional and in fact undiagnosed because of it. Who knows, maybe we just experience more of reality than others and that makes it hard to "stay inside the lines" of normalcy...which would turn out to actually be less real in this scenario, but I'm losing my point.

The director says that he loves to make movies that disturb people while entertaining them and that he likes his morals to be blatant. Both of these goals are achieved in this movie. He speaks to people with real mental difficulties by portraying a hero who has real mental difficulties, but who uses them to her advantage. A hero faces exaggerated circumstances and has exaggerated abilities so that we who hear (or watch) the story can envision that for ourselves and echo it in our more mundane circumstances.

So what does he say to us in the movie? First, you have all the weapons you need. This hits me so hard, coming out of a valley in my ongoing struggle with this thing that plagues me. Second, an angel says this. So a messenger from God tells me that I have all the weapons I need. Wow, is all I can say. Have you ever read Ephesians 6 and 2 Timothy 3:16-17? But the angel can't fight for them. They have to fight for themselves. His role is to take them along the path, but they must walk it. Just as God is always with me, but I must still live through the entire day and all it throws at me.

Third he says, "Fight!" Read Jeremiah 46:3. We must not give up. There is too much talk of this among those who don't understand. We don't need to be encouraged to be mush, to be passive, peaceful, drugged up zombies. We need to take life fiercely by the horns and slay these dragons before us, no matter what our dragons may be. This may seem like a platitude to most people. A nice sentiment. But when you live with mental anguish, depression, psychosomatia, inability to keep perspective on reality, the pressure to roll over and die is immense. Self-preservation is gone and despair sucks at your heels to swallow you if you hesitate for a second. In this kind of existence a voice from outside tells us to stand up, take the weapons we didn't even know we had, and use them. That the weapons are there for us. It isn't a self-help metaphor. It requires a fantastic belief to be able to function. We aren't broken in need of fixing. We were made this way, made for another world. This comes with it's detriments, but also for every detriment is a power to balance it, and even conquer the detriments, as was the case with Baby Doll in the movie.

I know how much "winding up" it takes to do normal tasks. But I can believe I'm a powerful warrior facing down demons. Chances are, I actually am...Even if I am psychotic, in my perception, the fantasy and reality merge to the point that it is effectively the same thing.

Here is a movie for people like me, to people like me. It clearly calls out to me to stand and fight and encourages me to believe what is unbelievable. Even if the way I see it isn't "reality" it will have the same effect. It is an affirmation of my world and my existence. It can be turned to good and used in power.

I don't know if Zack Snyder knows someone that inspired the movie or if his genius produced a movie that superbly speaks to something he personally knows nothing about and may not have even intended to address. But either way, I am thankful for it.

Kogeteiru

This word means burnt. I recently watched a very cute series of 4 minute animated shorts (typical Japanese PSA style) called Kogepan, or Scorched Bread. It's about a jam-filled bun that was left in the oven too long. The series describes his life and outlook. He's sour and hard. Unsatisfied with himself. Unable to be sold, which is the dream of every bread. His crusty exterior belies a soft heart though. Kogepan makes friends with others who share his fate and even meets others who are worse off, yet more enlightened (Charcoalpan). He even learns that the pretty buns also have problems.

This is a beautiful example of the Japanese heart. The very fact that they would produce a series of PSAs designed to help others understand those who "easily give up and sleep when they're angry", those who are different and unable to be like the normal buns, indicates the inclusive nature of what it is to be Japanese. Not only does this series help others understand the "kogepan" among us, but it gives a glimmer of hope to the kogepan so they will not feel so alone and can find a reason to live.

I understand this well because I am a Kogepan, though gifted with the ability to communicate it where many cannot. This isn't unique by the way, many famous artists, writers, and actors are kogepan too. We can't change how we were made. We were exposed to a bit too much of the heat of life and that is not our fault. We would often prefer to be otherwise and try to scrape off the crusty parts, hide them under frosting, and we would prevent others from being burnt, even when it's romanticized into something attractive.

This is an important understanding that is often lacking in America. We can't help it. This isn't a blame shifting or shirking of personal responsibility. Chances are we Kogepan blame ourselves far more than others could know. What we need is acceptance. That's all.

This is why it angers me SO much when people downplay it, or make fun or offer candy platitudes. Mostly they don't even realize that I AM one of the Kogepan. And I know what it's like to barely be holding on, and how much pain and depression those kind of careless sentiments, even if well-meaning, can cause. Did they never think that the Kogepan might just have tried all of that!

For us Kogepan, we must remember that we can not understand the ways of the Baker, nor do anything about it, even if we could. What is, for us, simply is. But we can know this: the things that burned us have made us much closer to the Baker's heart. This is the essence, difference, and glory of Christianity. The weak and messed up are the most dear and most sought after by God.

And in the worst of times (the deep winter), just as the series concluded: in the cold, everyone's breath is white. And this, at least, is a sign that we exist. It's a small thing, but it's something to be happy about.

anxious

I finally finished the bathroom and have taken some time to breathe. What a weight off that was.

But then, today something happened that reminds me that we are never more than one quick turn from ruin. I was eating lunch an chatting with a coworker when I swallowed and the food lodged in my throat. I know the feeling well. A few years ago I ended up in the emergency room because a pill lodged so thoroughly that nothing would remove it. Finally it was surgically removed and my esophagus was dilated. I discovered that I have a stomach condition that burns my esophagus with stomach acid and scars it. Combined with a naturally narrow throat, this creates restrictions where food can easily lodge. I'm supposed to take medicine to stop the acid, but found the medicine and the anxiety associated with having to take medicine all the time were causing more discomfort than the acid problem, so my doctor advised that I stop taking it so frequently...which turned into rarely.

But today in one split moment, I was right back in that distress. I tried to drink, but the water wouldn't pass or move the food, so I ran to the bathroom and began retching and swallowing until it finally dislodged. It's a horrible feeling. I would almost rather block my wind and pass out quickly. So I am reminded now of those days following the surgery where everything I ate was a source of anxiety. Where I felt incomplete, broken. Where my previous delusionment of strength and self-sufficiency was shattered. I feel it must be a bit of what chronically ill people feel.

It even led to a bit of hypochondria where I was so afraid of what other major health issue I might be ignoring that every ailment had me hyper-examining myself and even going to the doctor to ensure I was ok.

But now it's back to the diet to reduce acid, back to the medicine. I'm trying hard to keep peace about it. To "be anxious for nothing..." But it's not easy for me. I am naturally bent that way.

The strange thing is that I am not in the least afraid of dying. In fact it makes many people uncomfortable to hear how much I am truly not afraid of it. For me it would be a blessing, an end to this life of anxiety and depression and fear and evil. I know that I will fall into rest in my Father's arms. I can't wait to step out of this flesh and gaze at the real world. How appropriate then that to break whatever pride or perversion is in me, I am given this cross of decidedly undeadly burden. I must face this anxious fear, this dread of medical pain and systematic torture. I could face a knife or bullet with ease, but to face probing, medical, prodding and pricking is terrifying to me.

This is yet another instance where I must decrease and let Christ increase in me. I am in myself less than a cripple because my cross is internal with little external sign. My struggles have no substance, no matter, therefore they are "insubstantial" and "don't matter". You see how even language degrades me? No one teases a visibly handicapped person, but when it is not visible, all manner of jokes are permissible. To be inwardly stricken is to be flawed by choice to most people. Why can't I just be normal. I hate the word. It has no real meaning. It is truly insubstantial. It is an abstract statistical term.

Therefore I want to wear my invisible crosses outwardly. I am willing to take scorn and disrespect, though it scares me and I crave approval. I know that my identity is not this flesh which tries to dominate in weaker moments. I know that I cannot change what I cannot change. I know that I am too weak even to change much of what I can change. Therefore I plead Christ. I am bound to him because he is the only source of hope I have found to be credible. If it is up to me, then I am already doomed. No "you're ok, I'm ok" claptrap will resolve this. No PMA. No universalism. Call me Christian and let my strength and identity be Christ.

Endless walls

This week I tackled a huge renovation. Replacing a bathtub. It's the last major interior renovation we need to do in my house. I've never done a bathtub and I hate tackling any major project without knowing what to do.

Every step of the way we've moved a little and ground to a halt as we puzzled over how to make the next step. First the tub drain broke off in the tub, pinning it to the ground. Then the tub wouldn't come out. Then the drain wouldn't match the new one. Then the tub spout needed to be moved. Then the surround wouldn't fit. Now the valve needs to be moved as well. It's a major train wreck that I can't solve except by moving forward. I feel like I've been chipping through brick walls only to find another wall 4 feet beyond, and another, and another. I hate it. I'm mentally exhausted.

For every problem there is usually a simple and elegant solution. Especially in the trades. The problem is, those tricks are often carefully guarded. They certainly aren't publicized. You really have to dig to find them out. I ought to be used to this though. It seems the same with everything I try to learn myself. Bikes, boats, computers. Why are these things so difficult to learn? No not to learn, but to find useful information on. To find teachers and help. Even the products don't contain the info you need to install them, or to even know if that is the right product. The crucial issue with a tub after size, is where the drain is located, yet none of the tubs I looked at said at all where it was positioned other than 'right' or 'left'.

I've talked to several people about tubs and they all say the same thing, "Yup, s'hard. I hated doin' it." But that is not helpful at all. You know what would be? Something more like this, "yeah, those are a pain, here's what I learned..." or "Watch out for this or that." Today a plumber that I had to call in gave me a simple and easy solution for a problem I had three days ago! I was looking for that and found not one reference to it! Instead I beat at it like a raging gorilla until it gave in!

Once I get done with this endless, vastly more difficult and expensive project, you can bet that I will be far more expressive about the challenges, tips, and pitfalls if anyone mentions it to me.

Formidable Joy

At the heart of Contemplation is an openness to the Truth present in all circumstances. But we aren't always aware of it. An awareness often forces its way in on a Contemplative's thoughts like a wave crashing over him. You get used to it.

Today I was listening to The Big Roar by the Joy Formidable, a great band from Wales. The sound is rich and symphonic; the lyrics are deeply poetic. The music is evocative like liquid emotion.

While I was listening in the car a wave crashed over me and I realized that the album and the band name are touching a deep reality. Joy is a complex concept. It ranges from simple happiness for many people, to something much more mystic. The music is definitely joyful, but in a deeper darker way. For me joy is not happiness. This is circumstantial. Joy is not. I often feel like I don't have joy, but perhaps it is not something to have or not. Perhaps it is an ever-present existence which we can participate in like swimming. In this light, I dove into it and tried to see what was true there.

Happiness, sadness, anger, justice, all swirl around in joy. It could be dark and deep and cold or hot and light and quick. Or a mixture of them all. In this sense it is terribly formidable. Strange, wild, untamed, and scary like Bacchus without Aslan's presence.

Perhaps I don't lack it, but rather fear it and therefore stay in the shallows. God, that I will dive deep and let joy permeate me.

Two Sides, One Coin

Grace is a central issue of Christianity. Volumes have been written on it. I don't want to repeat or synthesize any of that. This blog is about contemplations, engagement of ideas. I recently read an article on grace in a blog by Wayne Jacobsen where he addresses a question about modern use of grace as license to sin. His answer went, as usual, exactly where I would have gone, but perhaps in a more refined and knowledgeable fashion than I would have managed. In short, he says that apart from a relationship with Jesus all else is human effort and will not work in the end.

Some claim grace is a stamped pass to heaven and thereby ignore the relationship and ignore a call to be holy and become like God. They use grace as license to continue in their own will and sinful desires. Others claim grace only opens the door but it is up to us to do an endless variation of things that all amount to earning our salvation in some fashion or other. Even the Evangelical alter call is in this group, but that's another story. There are many variations along the spectrum in both directions.

So how are we to find the right balance? This is where Wayne's words struck me most. Anywhere on the spectrum, and truly even trying to find a place on it at all, results in a constant tension between legalism and licentiousness. The whole process is just more human effort.

Like the old War Games moral...the only winning move is not to play. It is only in a relationship of trust (that is what the word faith actually means, just simple trust) that the two sides can make sense and we can get off of that tightrope.

I am given unbelievable grace for all time...that is, I have been forgiven for things for which I am justly guilty. And I must work out my salvation with fear and trembling, not being overconfident. Both are true and make sense in an actual personal relationship. Everyone would agree that if someone bought you out of a mess with no obligation to do so, we should be grateful and would owe that person. Even if they said forget it, we would seek to repay in some way at some point, never forgetting that favor. And if they did ask, we'd do what we could, right? To do otherwise would just be wrong. If that person asked us to hang out with them, we'd probably accept, even if it wasn't the scene we were used to. This is a shallow example of how grace and works are reconciled in a relationship. Of course it will fall apart if we pursue it too much, just as all human metaphors do, but the point is clear enough I think.

So sad that so many people quickly trade that relationship for system and process. Giving more won't make God love you more. It won't make you more blessed. It won't fix your life any more than continuing in all the same old destructive habits will. Sure some things are better than others, but the good in them comes from their connection to the spirit and truth in them, not the acts themselves. They are still curved roads in a curved world all bound in the same circle, to borrow some elven mythology. But you can't hang out with God, listen to him for any length of time, without changing who you are.

Perhaps this is why it's so hard for settled people to go to him and so much easier for the broken. The broken feel they have nothing to lose. While those who feel comfortable could be making a mistake and who knows what he'll ask of them? How beautiful to be forced to let ourselves go to find true freedom. To be forced to trust. Again, this seems an unacceptable condition in a system, but in a personal relationship the benefactor has every right to stipulate the terms of his aid. We do it every day...judging someone's worthiness to receive, to win, to befriend.

The Devil

What a topic. Some people are afraid to talk about it. Others want to focus too much on it. For others it's a cartoon idea that they like to play cutesy about. Theology aside, what is this thing we call the devil?

I have spent much of my life afraid. Terrified truly. I am mostly a fish out of water everywhere. I know what it is to feel different and to be incapable of making myself to be like others. This led to a lot of anxiety about people. What I didn't know, what I wasn't taught is that there is a being, are beings, that prey on fear...like feeding on it. They have no other real power, but they are very very good at pretending to have it.

I went through a time in my life when certain senses were awakening that these beings were very present to me. And that too was terrifying. I could recount visages and happenings worthy of a horror movie...worse because you can't just walk away or turn off your life. Even if it wasn't truly occurring, but only some psychological delusion, the effect was the same. I was paralyzed from doing anything else and anything good, and terrified. This led to a fear of the very idea of a devil.

This was necessary as a tool to keep my distance from these things, but is not good over the long term because, as Rowling said, fear of the word increases fear of the thing. Which is precisely what they, he, it wants. To instill fear.

But recently, I have come to realize that Jack's interpretation of the devil as nothing more than a sniveling annoying brat is far more accurate. It has taken a long long time to come to this and I know it will sound far weaker to anyone else. But it is huge for me.

Even though I had come to understand that his power was only to terrify and that there was no substance to any threat, it was still pee your pants scary and I didn't want to engage it at all. I knew I couldn't win in a direct fight; truly to engage in the fight at all was to give him power that he did not possess on his own. So I avoided.

But that meant that he was ever lurking to get me. Dark corners would bother me, certain times of night, certain conditions, thoughts had to be avoided to keep from engaging. But now I am finding that fear abating. Not entirely, but definitely. I am not as afraid. I can see how he need be nothing more than a mere annoyance, worthy of pounding the crap out of him given the chance. A kickdog. I don't mean to move into that fallacy of fighting the devil at every turn and disrespecting the spirits. This is a false power, and all false power is power given to him.

I hope and pray that this is not a phase, but a real step upward. It would be revolutionary in me. I know I am being trained, made perfect for something. We all are. As long as we live we are being trained, so this isn't prideful. To stop being trained is to end life in this world. But in me, which is the only person I can see inside of, I know this is a ground-taking step. Because to lose fear of fear embodied is to lose it altogether, and that means I become far more dangerous. Far more powerful. I want to reach into those dark corners where the bogey lurks and grab him by the throat. I feel ready to reach through to the other side of the mirror where the demons mock me in my sins, take one by the feet, and use it as a flail to drive off the herd. The hell hound at my hind will soon get a knife straight up through his hot jaws and into his tiny little brain.

All hell can't stop me now, in Jesus name!

Light

I'm finding it difficult to talk about this. I keep having these flashes of insight that I just can't put into words when I sit down to do it. I keep diverging into paths I don't want to take. Like trying to get a needle through the exact right spot and constantly coming up in another part of the cloth. I want to talk about light. The kind of piercing bright living light that we find from time to time. It's more than a metaphor. If you haven't experienced it, go find it. It is such an apt description of God. Light emanates and drives back the nothing which is darkness.

I used to shy from light. I preferred the solace of darkness and that was good for a time. It can be perverted like anything else, but light is incorruptible. Now I am so drawn to it. Illuminate! Spread the light out, pierce the dark corners. I want to be known and not hide. I want my scars to show. I want my ruin to be displayed so that it loses all power. In the light there can be no shame, no guilt. All is revealed and the things of darkness lose their power.

I don't wish that any who are afraid of the light be forced into it. Not that I'm against forcing because sometimes we are ready and won't move until forced, but to those who are not ready, forcing does more damage than good. So I want them to be sheltered. But for me, I am so tired of the games we play trying to keep our eyes shut. The light bathes and cleanses and frees us from these pretensions. In the light we can call what is wrong wrong and we can call what is right right. There's no need to beat around it.

I am imperfect and ruined by my own hand and in that I celebrate God's goodness to me. I want to walk in the light, be in the light. I can sometimes feel myself surrounded by light when I close my eyes. The space in my mind which used to be dark is now blindingly bright. There is no falsehood in it. I can picture it bleeding out through my pores and overcoming me. I can picture projecting it, shining it, dancing with it, in it, freed by it. Shining on the poor wretched things cowering in the dark, right at our feet, but unseen in the dark. What things are right at your hand? What pains, fears, humors and valiants beaten to submission, uglies, not good enoughs, sicks, disturbeds. I want to walk into the dark places and have the very ground light at my step on it. I want to see the light fall over them and pass through me to them.

I want to stare long and hard into the blinding source of that light. I want to know him. I want to see it washing out of and over my friends. I want them to let go and stop hiding as well. I want it to overwhelm me and consume me and never leave me. I want it to root out all corners of darkness to the deepest cellars of my soul. I want them to glow of their own with real radiant light not the sickly imitations we shine on them.

I once wrote that some people huddle to candle flickers and cherish them beyond all else but can't see those dancing in absolute conflagration behind them.

The lights have been turned on. Reason, Redemption, Freedom, Restoration, Peace, Rest: all of these have come to those least able to receive them. Even I can't fully accept this. I want those dark places to be illuminated.

Again, I don't mean the darkness that is good, that gives rest and perspective and gravity, but the darkness that hides and shames. The one which festers and bites and imprisons. This must go and everything in those dark places must come to light. I'm ready for it...at least for another step.

Breaking Chains

This phrase is common in Christianity. There are so many references to freedom, to setting captives free, to removing oppression. This IS Christianity. I'm going to try my best to avoid railing about rechaining and the obligatory system of religion people erect under the name of Christianity. So if that's your understanding of the thing, you aren't wrong, but that isn't the truth of it...

...I actually stopped writing this for several days because the idea didn't seem fully formed yet. Maybe it still isn't. I'm not sure quite where to go with this honestly. It was a powerful impression that became half visible in the mist and then vanished before I could get a clear view of it. I'll try just talking about notable occurrences and maybe it will tie up.

I actually had a dream that was not a nightmare last night. This is a first in a very long time. It wasn't the kind of dream that I would seek out or wake from feeling like I really enjoyed it. I haven't had one of those in about 15 years. But at least no one died, no one was chasing me, there was no violence, and no demons or other evil beings. And it was bilingual...in Japanese and English.

For one thing, I had an opportunity to see a good friend again recently who happens to be a powerful dreamer, and we talked about why I dream so horribly. It was just a passing conversation, but speaking out loud some thoughts I hadn't really formed before really seemed to help. It might have had an influence.

Also, I had the opportunity recently to spend some time alone in the wild. I took my newly constructed paddle board for a long paddle up a swampy river. It was running clear at low water, so I could see all the HUGE fish swimming under me. Swam a couple of times to cool off. Felt the bracing effects of fear as alligators up to 10 feet long startled, swam and submerged within 4 meters of me. Raced turtles. Stared vultures in the eye at close range. This is precisely what another friend who happens to be gifted in dream interpretation prescribed when I told him my dreaming predicament several months ago. So that probably helped as well.

I've felt pretty good lately. Allergies have been minor or nonexistent.

My new bike is lighter and faster than my old one, but the gear ratio is much tougher and forcing my legs to get stronger.

My new team member started at work and we get along very well. I found myself able to understand Japanese on TV again almost as well as when I lived there. I don't know why this has occurred.

I saw a fun adventure movie recently that surprisingly had a character which I very much admired. He was a missionary who held his faith in a bold and fearless way all the way to the end. After the movie I found out that both my son and God-daughter thought that character reminded them of me! I was very happy to hear this since that is exactly the kind of person I want to be!

I did not die last year as I expected.

Perhaps, I feel like chains are breaking for me. Deep chains. Chains I didn't even know bound me. I'm feeling a freedom and peace that I have not felt in a long time.

Practical Belief

I realized recently that my darkness and staunch pragmatism make it very difficult to take anything at face value, and therefore very difficult to simply enjoy something that I can see through or in the midst of greater difficulties. Not impossible, just difficult.

On the up side, I am very rarely surprised by things because I prepare for the worst. I think through possibilities and find the worst case. Once I have prepared for that, any lesser case is easier to deal with. It actually serves me very well most of the time and provides a perspective that many less thoughtful people lack.

But the problem is that things very rarely go that bad. Still they always could and that 'could' is where the trouble starts. Because I have inferred a path to that worst case, it is hard to get it out of my head. The stats help and I realize logically that it probably won't go that bad, but even within the realm of probable outcomes there are plenty that are not good. I can also see the variables and recognize those (most) that I don't control. So in short, I am constantly seeing the bad and this makes it hard to just go on and be happy.

There are some things to combat it though. I try to rule out hearsay and hype. These only falsely color the situation. Local news is the worst about this. Please don't watch it. It's trash TV disguised as journalism. Even gossip is trouble this way. I try to bring things back to my actual experience. For example, I hear crime reports. Hear rumors from neighbors. See warnings from police and neighborhood watch. This makes me feel that crime is immanent. It's only a matter of time before I am hit. But in my actual experience, this is not the case. There are far more good days than bad. Far more good people than bad. Most of the incidents are stupid kids that are easily caught. and some reports are just plain false. Like the one about the neighbors basketball hoop that was supposedly stolen when it was no longer on the street. I looked at their yard and saw the hoop laying beside their fence. This isn't rose-colored glasses; remember I can't do that. It's just the REAL facts.

You might be tempted to say, "just trust God and let him care for you." Well, that's great, but short-sighted. If you could see all the pathways that I see and consider all the cases that I know, you'd see that there's a whole lot of bad that can occur inside God's will. It doesn't mean I won't get robbed, beaten, sick, jailed, persecuted. In fact, the historic and modern cases around the world show that in fact those things are far MORE likely if I am a Christian. The fact that we don't see them so prevalently in this part of the world means 1. we are not capable of handling them, 2. we are not worthy of them (i.e. we don't offend the enemy enough) or 3. we are EXTREMELY blessed.

This is not to say that God doesn't provide all our needs. Just that many of our fears lie between our accustomed lifestyle and our needs. So for me, I have to find faith in something more solid. Remember that faith, as understood by those to whom the Biblical books were originally written, meant something more like credit or patronage. Not blind belief. It meant, it means in actuality, an offering of trust. Just like you trust the bank to hold your money for you. Or in those days, you might trust a powerful ruler to provide security and prosperity. In fact, that is the context of all the references to God as King. We are asked to trust Jesus like we would a king. That's why he laughed at his disciples so often that they didn't trust him in that way even though they trusted God as they knew him through Judaism. It was a whole different game with that God standing next to you.

So for me, I've been trying to give more of that trust. To recount past incidents where He was faithful and therefore bolster my faith. It's hard to truly do this in all situations. I constantly want to take back some control, as feeble as it is, and provide for myself. I've been really practicing seeing the good. Counting my blessings...really, it's not a cliche. And where I can't settle on a high probability of good outcome, I have to trust that there are factors I can't see and that He has promised not to let me go. And where bad outcomes are the most probable, I am practicing enduring, and even charging in. This is bravery, though we don't think of it like that. I would easily take on a gun or even knife over something less decisive like uncertain financial future. But one dragon is as another. Both must be charged down, come hell or ruin...

In these moments, I sometimes catch a glimpse of myself...at least I hope it is me in the same way I see others, like Galadriel of previous blogs. I see a fell warrior, bloody and singed, but standing firm in the midst of the demon swell. Maybe a little something like this.

But only for a moment. And then I come back to my own life...or maybe I just fall back to sleep.

Re-reawakening

I am slowly living back through so many things but on a different level. Like a giant spiral of translucent life in which I am passing back through things I've already experienced, but now colored by the new place in time and space. Rejection of things I had rejected. Embracing of things I had embraced. Having reactions to things and remembering having the same reactions before. Understanding what I had felt then on a younger shallower level and seeing again on an older more experienced level why I had gone that way. It's almost like reliving my life as a wiser person...yet turning out to be the exact same person. I see how I got here and I am choosing to do it again.

It's a reaffirmation really of who I am and who I am made to be. It's good. And I am choosing good. I have had enough of the fake and less than...again. I am gravitating toward the real and more...again. It looks from the outside so much like going the other way. But there is peace here. I can't quite put my finger on it yet, but I'm following that peace.

I have a friend that I often argue with...not angry fighting, but just engaged debate. This debate has helped me. Like iron sharpening iron, it is a grating and clanging process, but it leaves a finer edge. He says some things that I do not agree with and that I wouldn't say, but I understand what he means. It's all about perspective. One has to be in another's place to see from that perspective. I always did understand what he means on a certain level, though I constantly take exception with it for good reason. But in this place right now, I can feel affinity for his statements so much more than just assenting to it logically. I guess I'm saying that I feel it right now. I'm following what feels good and right.

I'm moving away from what hurts. I've tried to find the way to a place of peace again for a long time and all I keep finding is injury. I'm going to think on the pure, holy, worthy things. But that won't take me where most think it will. It didn't before. I don't deny my darkness. It is part of me and will be me, but I am accepting it and moving toward a place where the darkness is acceptable as part of the whole. I will never be at peace in the places that I was not made for. I learned this early on and had somehow flopped back out of the water where I have floundered and flopped trying to walk on fins and trying to breathe air through gills. And then upon strangling and tripping I began flopping about looking for the water again. I think I have found a trickle. Maybe a puddle, but there seems to be flow and life there and I'm looking for deeper water. I'm diving in, going deep, hearing that fluid rush. Get me in the water!

Get me out of the Keep (mixing metaphors, I know). I need to find that dewy wild place beyond the wall where I can crash down among the lilies and find the one waiting for me there. When I catch that scent, hear those pipes, I'm gone man! Watch how fast I cut it all away.

Railing

My reader...the only one I think (maybe I should just address these like letters to that person) said that my posts can change dramatically in style and tone. I recognize that and apologize by saying that I wanted this blog to be raw and real, so those swings are actually swings in me, chronicled in the hopes that some other soul may read them and feel less alone...but I know it makes it hard to read sometimes...which is probably why I have one reader. Whom I am tempted to call the "fan base", but I'll leave that reference there just to see if anyone ever gets it.

I also noticed that my blogs tend to be railing sorts of things. Not always, but a good deal of them. My facebook posts are even more so. I don't really like that about myself. I don't start out to be that way. And I don't feel like a very angry or miserable person always. I just think those are the things that get posted more. I have a hard time writing happy drivel.

Honestly, I try very hard not to be negative. This is an uphill battle as anyone who reads this blog will know about me. But it isn't helped by the fact that there are just so many darn insufferable things out there. What is insufferable? Well, for me it is misrepresentations, usurpations, manipulations, by those who claim (and are expected) not to do so. In my world, these are usually people who call themselves Christians and the organizations that they operate. I can't judge what goes on in their hearts, but I can comment on their actions. I want to be clear that I do not judge the person as I judge the actions. I don't. And since no one but God can see into my heart as well, you'll just have to take my word on that. I hope my actions bear it out as well.

I want Truth. I want what is real. Recently, I went into church after a few weeks out. I've been slowly extricating myself from that system of religious obligation and manipulation, but was feeling open and ready to see if God would speak through those present. I was trying hard to not be bothered by the usual irks (plastic expressions on singers, forced hype, awkward smiles covering real hurts, etc.) And then, what met my ears was, well, insufferable to me yet again. I fully believe in a real hell. I've experienced enough of it and what comes out of it to know this, so we are on the same page at the root. I was even able to look past the short-sighted Biblical citations. They were correct in reading, but the speaker failed to mention (if he knew) how those who counter them do so. There are some very good arguments against them that make it hard to use those verses alone as proof of point to someone who knows how to argue at all. If he knew and chose not to mention it, he only sends his flock out with false security against wolves.

But then he went on to start nothing short of brainwashing. Telling the congregation that they may have questions, but so what. Throw them out because if the Bible said it, that was all they needed. At this I was piqued. But then he went on to have a call-response where the congregation was supposed to repeat the mantra that they didn't need proof and their questions didn't matter. I had had enough. I had to walk out. What I felt like doing was interrupting the whole sermon by calling out the heresy right there. Maybe I should have, but most wouldn't have understood what I meant and those that did would have been too bound by their own issues to accept it. I would have instantly rocked their boats so hard, they would have instinctually thrown me out simply to stop the shaking.

So I went to the bathroom to hide for a minute, then look for a place to go. Everywhere I went there were people milling around who knew me and wouldn't understand. I couldn't attempt to talk to them, they'd see my upset. So I had to go outside.

Out there was a world. A world that God made and lived in. There were things living and moving and happening. It was calming. A whole different tone from the cursed tomb that was being created inside what should be a place of life, a well of living water. Instead it was turned into a stinking sepulchre of religious bondage.

Jesus never spoke to people that way. Jesus went to lengths to be tender to people's needs. To meet them where they were. To explain and build trust. He even met with one scholar one on one to explain one of the seminal passages in the Bible! I'm sure he must have done it more, but we don't have record. He still does this today. I thought we believed he was a living and active and caring God. Yet speakers like this try to force their point on the masses who look to them for guidance through manipulative techniques like that. God, it would be better to have mill stones hung on their necks and be thrown into the sea than to lead those astray. The Bereans were commended for questioning what they were taught and searching it out to see if it was true, not expected to blindly repeat what they were told! It hurts me and makes me want to rend my clothes! And my only outlet for this is some lonely blog with one reader. I am thankful for that, don't misunderstand. But it makes my heart cry out like David, "How long, God?!" How long will this evil continue? God I want to see your mercy and grace poured out on these people, even the speaker.

And yet these masses will listen for a while, until the stench builds so strong in their noses that they know something isn't right. Then they leave as well...probably to be more disgusted with Christianity and less friendly to the one who came to do away with this very thing. Jesus only ever railed against the religious and self-righteous...with good reason.

Responsible

Why am I always expected to be responsible? Is it because I've never been anything but? Even my rebellion is responsible, chivalrous even. I hate lies and would sooner tell someone to their face that I will not do what they ask than sneak around.

But right now I feel like I am surrounded by people who are not like this. I know I hold myself to a very high standard. Far higher than most people will ever know. Psychotically high almost. But sometimes, I feel that my responsibility gives others the room to be irresponsible and they don't feel bad about taking advantage of it. I don't even believe they notice it most of the time because I just pick up the slack.

Maybe I should just stop. Skip work, miss a payment or two, leave someone hanging or stranded, not do something I'm expected to do at work or home. Blow a paycheck or two. But the thing is, I can't. I can't! I can't let myself be this way, so it will never happen. Oh sure, I could give my whole paycheck away, but I couldn't blow it on frivolous stuff. I can't let the housework go. It eats at me and I have no peace until it's done. The kicker is, most of the mess I clean up isn't even mine. I recently went through to throw out more of my stuff and had a hard time finding any that wasn't necessary and useful items.

I guess that's why people don't believe me when I try to tell them these things. I even recently lost a long time friend over this very thing. He just wouldn't believe that I was capable of expressing bent feelings in an irresponsible way. Everyone else could be forgiven, but I was not given that grace. I was even accused of intentionally trying to hurt him by acting that way.

When will someone come find me? When will I get the hand up?

Even as I write this I am reminded of times when God has provided for me. He has never let me go too far. But that's just it...no human has ever done this. Is it any wonder I find so little of value in this world? A band once wrote that "this world has nothing for me, and this world has everything" I feel just like this. The thing is if it's true, then there is nothing left for me.

Uncommercial

I haven't posted in a while because I've been busy with many things and haven't felt a pressing need to lay out my thoughts in this way. That in itself is a good thing. Life is storms and calms. This must be one of the calms.

I've been working on a stand up paddle board of my own design. It's plywood and very short. The idea is to make something that is ultra cheap and portable. It turned out to be a bit more work than I anticipated, but it floats well. One more small modification and it will be finished. As a prototype, I've already got some better ideas for the next one. The plan is for three personal craft that fit in my short bed small pickup. One for each person in my family. It's my first foray into boat building and I'm learning a lot. It's a skill that I feel bridges a big gap for me and ties two great interests...water and woodwork.

My parkour training has continued and I'm seeing slow progression while not injuring myself. My training partner had his first injury this week, but I think he's ok. My mind has been centered on flow more lately. Obviously there is still need for drilling basics, but I am ready to start stringing them together and taking routes. It's an interesting art. Like many urban activities that are real and dangerous, it is forced to be a guerrilla sport. Find a location, climb it, and keep moving before people have a chance to run us off. We're also getting good at spotting potential nay-sayers and avoiding a meeting.

One thing I've learned is the difference in the training demo technique and the actual practice. Like most things, they don't often match exactly. At some point, you just have to go for it and find what works for you as an individual. Not to mention that there are variations among the experts too. Not in large part, but every master teaches what works best for them. This gives rise to various styles. As a very new and very unexploitable art, I feel connected to something primal. It stands amidst our commercial culture, but distinctly outside it. It ignores rules of how people should move through a built environment. It ignores rules about how we should train...no schools. People of course are forever trying to force it into those molds, but it has resisted largely thanks to the philosophies of David Belle and many of the current masters.

I've also been reading My Ishmael, third in Daniel Quinn's series. It dovetails nicely with what I've said above. As always, I don't entirely agree with Quinn's take on history or on what should happen in the future, but he does bring many excellent things to light about education, economics, and what it means to be human. Most notably this time, I have been thinking about commercialism. How we base everything on products and selling. Trade of goods and services. Commodities. It doesn't have to be this way. It isn't this way in many places. I used to think we needed overhaul of many paradigms, but they remained closely rooted in what is...for example, I love steady-state economics. But now I'm seeing this as just a spin on the same product exchange economy. Better yes. But not ideal. Not everything has to be sold. Not everything has to be taken stock of and comparatively evaluated. It is possible to live as humans in a society that does not operate on commercial principles...and it's possible to do that now, as we are. Not in some luddite fantasy. Truthfully, we already do to a large extent. Many societal structures, many of which we view as negative, are natural attempts at this...or rather, natural states, breaking through our systems.

At the Eye

It's amazing how much can swirl around us. Thoughts, emotions, ideas. Most seem pretty much meaningless. I'm hoping there's a point in here somewhere, so let's see if it comes out.

Earthquakes and Tsunamis wracking Japan. Nuclear meltdown threat. Japanophiles everywhere rushing to make websites and raise money and go help. These are all pretty meaningless acts in themselves. We don't even know the extent of the damage yet. Going there is the last thing a disaster wracked county needs...hundreds of half-illiterate, barely-communicative foreign crash-tourists streaming in with no place to stay while you are trying to get streets cleared, restore power, prevent nuclear devastation, find dead and dying, and restore some semblance of normal life. Plus, it isn't like it's an impoverished nation. Not only is Japan's emergency management I dare say better than the US, they have the help of the US and every major relief organization in the world as well. Bad, yes. Sad, yes. So pray, find out about your friends and family, and don't be stupid.

There was a time when I longed for the destruction of everything. I wanted to see all the wrongs set right, the rebirth. I didn't care about the suffering or pain that might cause. I think that comes from being in a deadened state myself. Now I see the fear and pain that such destruction brings and it hurts me. Now that I would not see that sort of end to things, I have a feeling I am going to see more and more of it. I'm not making predictions about the Second Coming, just saying that I have always been drawn to apocalypse and have felt that I may live to see one. Whether this is The Apocalypse or merely the demise of a culture, I don't know. But regardless of my feelings about it, there is nothing for it but to walk it out. I trust beyond myself.

I have recently encountered a situation where I am learning to love someone through a very (for me) unlovable situation. It challenges me at every state, but I won't let it go until I am told to do so. If there is hope of seeing God's truth dawn on this soul, I am willing to do what I am given to do. This person sees on such a small level, and thinks everything fits that neat little package. What he doesn't seem to understand is that the world is so much more complex in many ways and so much simpler in others. It is a challenge for me to stay true to my beliefs without crushing those tender shoots of truth through my heavy-handedness, and without being influenced into something I do not believe.

At work, things continue to swirl, as change without hope of improvement continues. I have often said that it is a pessimizing business I am in. Being aware of legitimate information about the state of our society, being charged with helping to change it for the better, and constantly being suspected of some uncouthness from both sides. I found out today that yet again, I was cut out of a dealing which is entirely within my realm of responsibility. And I was cut out intentionally by my immediate supervisor. I will bring it up with him, even though he hates confrontation. I cannot abide being patronized or muffled. Trust me to do my job or tell me openly not to. Don't try to sneak around me and then tell me to continue doing the 'great job' I am doing while you subvert what I am working for. Every other country I have contact with seems to be doing a better job at what I do than this one. In those places, what I do is respected and brought to the table, if not prioritized. Here I fight on both sides. What's worst about this is that it forces me to operate on my own. I cannot discuss and cooperate because no one in my loop wants to hear it. The best I can do is commiserate with the few others in my boat.

Pollen is swirling again. I didn't have such reactions to it just a few years ago. Now it's worse. Here it's worse. Doctors say it's normal for those things to change over time, and usually for the worse before they get better. But I am healthier than ever and have trouble accepting this. I suspect pollution from industrial chemicals and air pollution have either irritated me (and countless others) to the point that we can't tolerate this minor natural irritant, or that the irritant itself has become more potent as a result of contact with these toxic compounds ala Nausiccaa. I bounce through phases during this season of just resorting to medicine every day, and then fearing side effects (or actually having them) or philosophically hating the concept of daily medication. It twists me up until at last the season is over. Thankfully so far we've had some rain which helps. Hopefully this mercy will continue.

In weaker moments I have issues with dissipation. I am a sheepdog. When I connect on a real level, I can't let it go without much suffering. Which is why I rarely allow myself to connect like that. Yet I have watched so many people just walk away from what I thought was real and valuable. Not that all cases are people walking away from Good, some are clearly a walking toward Good for that person...I guess I just feel left out. Like I have just run over to a friend's house to share the new toy we had talked about so often just in time to see him run away to play with other friends and I'm not invited. Honestly, I wouldn't go even if asked because those friends share something I not a part of. I would simply be the tag along. But this is a feeling I've felt most of my life at various points. I wish at least sometimes, someone would run over to my house. Choose to play with me this time. Unless I organize it, I rarely ever see any friends.

But I can see the calm center in this storm of circumstances. I rely too much on circumstances. This is the problem. I am being taught to place my whole hope and trust in the one eternal thing. The one thing which meets all needs. The one thing which so thankfully is not a what but a who. It's a bittersweet process. All emotions rolled together into a tumult with a calm center like a cyclone. Desire truly is the root of all suffering...but that doesn't mean we should stop desiring altogether. Desire simply needs to be for the right things. The eternal things that do not disappoint.

Yet I am often lonely and sorrowful. Brother Lawrence says that I can find mystical joy if I focus entirely on what pleases the object of my desire. I am not even to try too hard for this, but to relax in my ineptitude and allow God who can fulfill all needs to do so in me. I must trust that my pitiful and whiny struggles are my portion of the sufferings of Christ. All will be well. In complete surrender is freedom. In losing myself, I find myself. God I adore you.

Recovery

I have a suspicion that sin takes a while to purge. Or rather that it takes a while for us to heal from the effects of certain sins.

Of course many people don't even recognize sin. They don't understand the word. I don't want to go into a big treatise on the definition and philosophy of the concept, so suffice to say that it is wrongness. Acts of wrongness and just wrongness in general. If that doesn't work for you, then I refer you to the tomes on the subject. I will assume going forward that you know what it is and accept that it exists.

So when I commit certain sins to which I am prone, I have noticed lingering effects. Even though I believe that the price for those sins has been paid and that I am forgiven, even though I have repented to the best of my ability...which is really nil.

...ok I have to sidebar here a little...I don't believe that we have anything to do with the forgiveness of our sins. I know that, "if we confess our sins he ...will forgive us and cleanse us..." But I don't think this establishes a sort of spiritual transaction in which God's graces are contingent upon our behavior like many people believe. This is simply a new face on the Jewish law and the substance of most popular religion world wide. It's Karma in a broad sense. If this were true how could anyone ever come to God? We are separated before we know otherwise. If he didn't reach to us first, there would be no connection. Plus he has forgiven us, "while we were yet sinners" and there is "therefore no condemnation." The references go on and on. Suffice to say, we are forgiven period. Everyone is. It's our own rebelliousness that forces the charges to be held to our own account. The door to hell is locked form the inside. End sidebar.

Even though I know the forgiveness, and am learning not to interpret my own self-condemnation as God's wrath, beyond that, there are certain discreet factors which noticeably improve in the area surrounding the sins (and no I'm not going to say what they are) the further away from it I get. The longer I go without falling to it again, I notice those affected areas improving.

I suspect it might have something to do with the residuals of the sin itself. Since sin is a negation of what should be, it may have a sort of cancerous effect on the spirit. It's a subtle thing, as with most truths...but there may be something to this.

Radical Change

As usual, something is happening in me. It always is, really. But I am aware of something brewing at this moment. I am full of doubts and questions, but certain things have happened recently that have led me to think I must move a certain direction.

I am learning what it means to radically follow Jesus. I mean really as if it were all literally true. I don't want to play mental gymnastics with his words. What would life be like if I really, literally believed he was directing my every step? What if I am everything that I dream, hope for? Everything that has been spoken about me?

I once fell in love with this kind of life. I never really forgot it. I just get dulled and snowed in by other thingsfor a while. Each time a bit more of the illusion sheds away as I wake up.

But I want ot keep planning. I want to keep organizing. The voice of my culture and training screams that I am doing wrong...sometimes quite literally when I talk to my mother or father. But even they are beginning to see it. They just can't let go yet. The truth is, I have realized I'm not really holding onto anything in the first place. It's only God's mercy and patience that allow me to believe the illusions anyway.

I'd love to describe where I'm going with this, but the truth is I don't know. I feel like I'm taking a trust fall. Not one on my own terms...not one with parameters that give a margin of safety, but like Neo taking the red pill (what an awesome metaphor), I have no idea what will come next. But I'm trying desperately to open my mind and heart to it.

The premise is this: Jesus found people and said, "come follow me." They went. That's it. No organization. No planning. They literally left what they were doing and followed him. He's still saying the same thing. That's all. It sounds different now because he isn't physically present, but in a way that is both harder and easier. If a man walked up to you at work and said come with me. Would you go? In that sense, feeling a deep near-irresistible draw to Jesus is a much easier thing to assent to. But on the other hand, the first disciples had a person to touch and a voice to hear in their natural ears. This is easier to be certain of than the fickle tuggings of one's heart. So in the end it balances. Paul says that each of us was placed in exactly the right time for us to be. I have no control over that.

But I am feeling more confident that I can trust Him in my heart and life than I have before. I am starting on a day by day, moment by moment faith. Listening, watching, doing what I am asked to do in that moment. Without regard for the outcome. Without regard for human structures or traditions...not that these are necessarily bad, only that I know they are not to be a rule for me. Nothing replacing that moment by moment trust.

My hope is that I will find this increasingly possible. That he will be increasingly proved faithful. That this is my way out. We'll see.

Control is an Illusion

My life is about control. I think yours is too. Most of us put it in different terms security, happiness, peace of mind, goals. But it really means control. Sometimes we don't even notice how we need control. We fear the unknown: places, people different from us. We dislike things that we feel we can't control: animals, weather. We harbor in cities and comfortable neighborhoods. We sacrifice freedoms to gain a semblance of security, control.

In my case, I fear people most of all. I can't control them at all. I don't understand them. Where some fear wild animals, weather, oceans, wilderness, I am actually more comfortable there because in those situations what I can't control is obvious and the elements I can't control make sense. They behave according to laws or principles. Granted many don't understand this, but it's true. A shark isn't being deceitful. It is what it is. It behaves a certain way. We can interact, or avoid interaction based on those rules. And behind it all, these things submit to my God. They are loyal to his order. But people are not. They cheat and deceive, change on a whim, hide, manipulate, and even randomly act without sense. They are not bound to follow God's order...ultimately they are of course, but they have a choice to act against God where elements and wildlife do not, or at least very very rarely ever choose to go against that order.

But in all honesty, whatever ways we strive for control, it is always an illusion. We had no say in when, where, or how we were born, the conditions of our life, the state of our health. We have very little control over these things in our ongoing lives. We can manage risk factors, but even this is no guarantee. Any doctor, philosopher, warrior, gambler, or statistician would say so. I do not pay my bills by my own strength. I simply push out that buffer of security as far as I am able; to the limit of reasonable risk. But this is hollow. It could all end at any moment. I have no guarantees and could do nothing about it anyway.

Perhaps this is what bothers me so much about a life that seems blind to this reality. Perhaps this is why I feel so much at ease in the wild where others find even less control. There, I am free to let myself be out of control. To focus on the next moment only. The next breath, the next stroke, the next hand-hold. At any slip I could die. There I am fully in the hands of my God.

The trick is, I am never less in His hands. Not at work, or among the crowd of riotous partiers, not lying on my futon. I do not need to fear even there. I have no more control in these situations. I only have more illusion of it. I have no less control in the others, only less illusion of it. That's why I hate this work-a-day life so much. It is a lie, a blinding fluffy down of comfort that smothers all objections and dulls all senses back to sleep. I will get out of it. I don't know how or when, but it is coming.

Perhaps I have more to learn before that can become a reality for me. Perhaps I need to learn to trust in each moment. To live in that freedom that comes knowing I have nothing to do for my life. I need to learn to trust Him that fully. In that trust, I'll be able to enjoy each moment the fullest. Savoring each good thing, caring not a lick for the maybe, and enduring the bad with patience and resilience.

We often hear that this is possible in our regular lives. God doesn't require us to move or change anything really. Only to change our attitude. And that is true in a way. But it is often taken too far out of context. So far that it becomes an excuse for perpetuating the life-sucking institutions that feed the illusions we are so addicted to.

Rabbit Hole

Lately more has happened. I feel like I'm approaching a convergence of some kind. A metanoia. I am really feeling a need to shed false pretenses and be who I am. the problem is that who I am is not widely accepted. It isn't narrowly accepted. It just plain isn't accepted.

This was highlighted by a recent exchange in which I revealed a bit too much in a setting where I thought it would be safe. Man, was I wrong. The bulletfire rained down on me, mostly from someone I considered a friend. Honestly, I don't blame him too much. I knew how he was and what set him off. As I have blogged before, when my true self leaks out, it is often denied, attacked, or hurriedly swept back under the rug because people are uncomfortable with it. Heck, I'm uncomfortable with it. It's an uncomfortable state of being! Made worse by the fact that I am so communicative and good at pretending.

I had once found a group of people that healed me in a lot of ways. They validated my outlook. They allowed me a space to be who I was. We were all misfits, so we welcomed the company. But that ended, and for good reason. It had become corrupted by our own problems. But I do desperately miss the ability to relax in myself. To not be guarded all the time. Even in my own home, I have to be guarded because my son is sensitive and easily freaked out. If the full measure of my personality came out, as has leaked, he loses it.

So for a long time now, I've had terrible dreams. Every night almost, I wake up numerous times and in the morning feel drained as if I've been struggling all night. The dreams vary, but often have the same issues leaking in. I can't determine where it comes from or what needs to be done. But recently, I became aware that this must represent some repression trying to break out of my subconscious. so I asked a friend who is very good at dream interpretation what he thought.

In a few sentences he explained things about me that I had not revealed. That he did not know. He acquired it simply from my description of the dreams. That was all it took to poke a hole in the damn. The trickle started through and I delved deeper into my own existence, making connections. I haven't sorted it all out. It just happened today, and this blog is part of that processing. But as usual, many things in my life have started to coincide...events, chance happenings, thoughts, memories out of chronology, etc.

It all has to do with my frustration at having buried who I am. What I need to live. But man, it's in deep. I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of it and I'm honestly a bit scared to. The last time I began down these paths, I nearly lost my mind altogether. Already, the doubts are beginning to attack the anchors in my reality.

...

I broke to read to my son before bed. We're reading the Chronicles of Narnia. we're on The Silver Chair. Wouldn't you know, Jack has come through again. What we read tonight opened a whole lot more to me. The whole book even fits so timely. So, I think I can write it now. Starting way back.

I've been confronted with the idea lately that God is a projection of my own mind. Sure, I've heard that before. But it's different reading about it, or apologizing against it than encountering it in action and word and deed. It seeps into my head like a dark spell...it might actually be. I find myself trying to remember why I thought God was anything else. What evidence I can cite seems always to be swallowed up nicely in the idea. "I subconsciously created it all. I longed for it, needed it, and it occurred. But this is not a bad thing", the spell goes, "only the same thing in different clothes. One is all, all is one...eternally God, eternally me, aspects of myself...I am God. God is me. As I face the truth, I will see it is so." Just like the Green Witch, enchanting the four heroes that they imagined any world but hers. So hard to fight it, it seeps in like music, like incense fills a room. My defenses become hazy as my mind is lulled. "And when I realize this truth, I'll realize that goodness is all there is. Move toward goodness, toward happiness, what makes me feel good, and I move toward God because I am God and my desire is for myself, so pleasing myself pleases God." It's an insidious poison. Just like Rillian lives in his enchantment happy and carefree all the time. But it is pain that brings the heroes out of it. Not just any pain, but the pain of the Marsh-wiggle, the melancholy depressive. It is he that is most resistant to the spell, and it is his self-inflicted pain that breaks the enchantment. Good God! Thank you!

This is why I hurt my foot. Even a foot like in the book. This is why my head hurts so much recently. This is why I've become acutely aware of the restrictive and deadening nature of my chair at work, which I am "strapped to" increasingly...and it's silver!! Oh God it's too much! This Rabbit Hole is deep and strange.

I am dark. I was made dark. I am gloomy. I am angry. I see things gravely. But it is this gravity, this severity, this darkness that is my nature and my grace. I didn't make myself. But I can be myself. I don't need to change. I don't want to heal from this. It is a blessing and a part of the Body. Is the mouth a foot? I am what I was made to be and can be no other. I am tired of trying. I'm sorry for denying the holy goodness of my own existence, even if the whole world denies it. I have seen the sun, I have seen the grass and the trees and the Lion. And with a taste of that, this world pales. Even if I never see it again, I choose that over this dark and hellish planet. I'm sorry, this life is NOT worth living. It is NOT beautiful. And I will stake my entire soul on the one hope that the Lion is real. That I did not dream up the true world.

I will make changes. I will live in this understanding...God give me strength. I don't know how far down this particular hole goes, but I'm in. The crazy thing is (just one crazy thing?) that I can now see again how the real world is set crosswise through this one. We draw the lines in the wrong places. That's one of the reasons I am so misunderstood. When I deprecate this life, most people immediately jump to "suicidal", but that is not the case at all! My natural eyes see the same boundaries, but my real eyes see the true nature. (This is not going to make sense.) The Kingdom of Heaven is within you. Because the Earthly physical world is false does not mean that all physical is false. The Kingdom of the Air and the Kingdom of Heaven are not divided along the lines of physical and nonphysical, heart beating and not beating...

wow, this is too much. I have to stop. My mind is winding down for now.