People used to say that certain places had a strange effect on people. It's picked up in stories, novels, movies. There's a sort of Majik (I spell it this way to refer to the sublime natural sort of mysterious power as opposed to the trickery people do on stages or the evil sort of sorcery) that can make people get lost, hurt themselves, forget, disappear, or a variety of other things that vary in ominousity. I've long known that the further away from the things of man one goes, the closer to the Majikal, one gets. I've also always believed that many natural happenings are explained in a sort of mythical fashion as an innate way of transferring oral knowledge...like storytelling. Thus there is truth in many myths. Recently, I had occasion to take these beliefs out for a test run...Or rather I was tossed out of the boat with them, so to speak, and left to see what floats.
My bushcraft is pretty strong. I've been in the woods, swamps, oceans, mountains, all my life. Every week, I strip down to the barest means I can handle and run in the swamps that surround my area of Florida. Mostly this means me in a pair of shorts and some Feiyue Tiger Claws, (think shaolin shoes). Sometimes I ditch the shoes too. but no shirt, no phone. Just me. It's my time to "Walk with Him in the Garden". It's my truest house of worship, just like Jesus went up in the mountains or gardens to pray.
Over time, I've gotten to know my favorite spots. If you know the area, I start out in the Morris Bridge Trails. It's a dirt lot with a trail head that hikers and mountain bikers frequent. From there, I disappear into the woods, heading downhill into the slough, a ribbon like swamp of virgin cypress, elms, and other hardwoods. Half of the year, it's under water, but at this time of year, it's mostly dry. Trails slip through at various points, but in the deepest part, I frequently veer offtrail into the slough itself and "chase the spirits". Here I can hop the logs, balance across spans, dodge cypress knees, and let go. I'll frequently find myself exhausted and stop for a rest, where I encounter other denizens of the nonhuman sort. I've eavesdropped on a coversation between a mama raccoon and her two kids. Talked with otters, charged and been charged by hogs, hopped with deer, and angered a good deal of squirrels just by being in sight. I've also seen God part the veil and speak to me in amazing ways. I'm totally at ease here. I've even dozed off in the flowers once or twice.
After a bit, I'll make my way back to the trails and head back to civilization. On occasion I've overshot my mark and had to run around the long way to get back or popped out unexpectedly in a place I didn't realize I was heading to. But there are days, like this past Friday, where the world there is different.
This Friday, there was no sun. It's rare here in the Sunshine State, but we do get a few totally overcast days where the brightness of the sun is not discernible through the grey blanket. This day was one of those. It makes the colors of the swamp come alive. The greens and reds and yellows explode in vivid splashes. Particularly at this time of year, the open areas under the trees are a solid field of yellow asters, waist high. So on this day, I found a nice piece of chert, a type of flint. I decided to try napping it into a tool, like our ancestors did. So I plunged offtrail into the sea of yellow far enough to not be a distraction to the few bikers who might zip by on the trail in the early afternoon.
The smell of the flowers was dizzying. Bees swung around full and drunk. I found a large tree with a flat root, perfect as a base for chipping. I protected it with bark and went to work. In 15 minutes I had a useful hand ax and tried it on the branch of an elm sapling. It cut quite nice for my unexperienced hand. I then cached it and my striking stone in a hollow and headed back.
Running in the woods is different than walking. You aren't focused on the distance as much as the nearest step, because you have to adjust your foot placement rapidly to avoid the many obstacles. So it's common to zigzag a bit as you make your way back. So when I didn't hit the trail where I expected, I figured it turned and I overshot it, so I veered left to meet it again. Pretty soon, I realized, I must be much further east than I thought. The trail was just not there. The endless field of yellow was crisscrossed with hog and deer paths. I even woke up one sleepy pig who stuck himself under a log and had to frantically dig himself out while I stood overtop encouraging him. Nothing looked familiar, as it usually doesn't, so I just kept moving ahead thinking I'd hit the powerline eventually and work back that way.
About 30 minutes later, I hit a trail. OK, I thought. This must be my usual trail, just east of my turn, I've been there before when I overshoot, so I turned left and ran on. But pretty soon the trail widened and I began to see horse prints, then manure. I was in the Equestrian park to the south! As shocking as this may seem, to be heading south instead of north, it has happened before. That time, I fell asleep and then jumped up and ran the wrong way out. With no sun, I couldn't tell. But this time, I had not lost my orientation. I had distinctly headed back north from the tree, the way I had come in.
So these woods, must be the majik kind. It is a virgin swamp afterall. It's not the first time trails had seemingly moved on me in these kinds of places. But I could hear traffic, so I knew that must be the interstate. In a few minutes, I should pop out on the edge of the equestrian trails and could shoot back north through a familiar part of the slough. I ran on.
Then, I spotted the clearing. But beyond it was not the mound of spoil I expected by the canal. It was a house! OK, I must be still east where the houses come up to the equestrian park. I'll just head right and find the spoil. (Keep track of these directions and see if I'm not correct.)
Soon, I hit a fence and a street. There should be no street. The houses back right up to the park. I had no idea where I was and for the first time a larger than normal spookiness shot through me. Still, experienced, as I am, I simply slid through the barbed wire and looked for a street sign. 200 meters down, I found one...My blood chilled. I had no idea where this street was. I looked left, then right. I looked up at the grey blanket. I had no idea if I was looking north or south, east or west. I didn't know this street. It could be anywhere around a large range of wilderness. But not to panic. I could always swallow my pride and knock on a door to ask where I was. Then run very fast if the homeowner levelled a shotgun at the half naked man covered in mud and leaves on her porch. I listened and heard traffic again very close. I ran that way. Over a short rise, I could see it. It wasn't the interstate, so it had to be Fowler or Morris Bridge Rd. For those out of the area, these streets are on the south and north of the wilderness respectively. If Morris, I was closer to the parking lot than I thought. If Fowler, I had a long run back, but no big deal.
At the intersection, I was stunned again. This was neither of the streets I expected. This was US 301! This highway runs north on the eastern edge of the wilderness from east Tampa up into Zephyrhills. I hadn't crossed a river, or a road, so I had to be on the west side of the road. Plus cars were zipping from right to left, which at that time of day, must be northbound. But I had no idea how far along the road I was. I didn't recognize the intersection. So I turned right, or south (I hoped) since I was praying to be close to Fowler.
That's when I saw that I was north of County Road 579. Good grief, I was in Thonotosassa! I couldn't have gotten farther from where I wanted to be without crossing a major feature like a river or other blatant directional landmark. That takes a certain kind of bad luck; almost intentional. I didn't know where my little street went the other way, and didn't want to get twisted up in the swamp again this close to dusk, so I decided there was nothing to it, but to hoof it along the road.
I ran, and walked some, and struggled to find saliva in my now dry mouth. Then I ran some more, and some more. I couldn't buy a drink because I had no money. I couldn't go into a store because I had no shirt. I couldn't call anyone because my phone, along with my water, and wallet, were in the truck at the COMPLETELY OPPOSITE CORNER OF THE DANG WOODS!
Eventually I debated sneaking up to a house and swigging some water from a hose, but in that part of town, the thought of shotguns and dogs were quite real, especially for a half-naked, dirty, long-haired mutt like me. Of course, hospitality would have easily prompted anyone to spare me a cup if I'd asked, but I truthfully wasn't in that sort of need and didn't want to pretend to it, which would not only be dishonest, but would likely prompt them to also help me more than I wanted. So I followed the tenet of "get yourself in, get yourself out" and pressed on around the Big Top Flea Market and up the canal toward relief.
After one more short detour around the mouth of the creek I had started in, followed by one more quick twist of directions in the woods, I wound up right back on the canal where I gave up and decided to cross through the caretaker's property despite the glaring signs prohibiting it. Of course, right as I neared the sign on the far side of the property, my leg gave up and cramped. And of course right as I hobbled on past it, the caretaker's wife rolled up in her truck and asked me if she could help me in that tone that says, "you know you shouldn't be here." Having been thus humbled, I dropped my head and sheepishly declared I had gotten lost and just found my way out. She nodded understanding, asked if I was alright otherwise, to which I responded by pointing to my truck a few hundred meters away. She bid me a kind good day and I stumbled into the truck where I downed a bottle of water, answered some texts from my now worried wife, and drove home to a sick stomach, which was quickly cured with ample does of salt and simple carbs. The only lasting injury is my pride, and that's for the better.
In the end, I was in no real danger, other than being overly tired and late. I could find my way out to some point simply by following traffic noise, so I wasn't going to die in there. I had prayed for God to do with me what he wanted on that run and he obliged. I had asked for him to show me what he would, and he did. Once more, I learned about myself, both my abilities and my limits. I learned about His care for me, even in seemingly uncontrolled situations. And I learned that my granddad knew something when he said in his slingblade accent, " 'ere's sump'm in 'em 'oods a'makes ee'n 'em 'at knows 'eysef go a bit auter hids."
Monday, March 31, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
Lull
I haven't written in a while. Sometimes a lull occurs and I am grateful. Not that things have been bad or perfect, or even dull. Just relative peace in my mind and life. I'm actually inspired back to write by a chance comment from an unknown reader. But I don't know where this will go.
Holidays are finally over and it takes several months to recover some normalcy. Some things never come back. I wonder how many things, good or bad, are lost because of the American Holiday Season. Some people like the change. I think they wait all year to do the things they do in that season. But I don't. I don't see life as that long. Truthfully, it isn't a conscious decision, just the way I am made: I see multiple pathways in everything and that includes the negative. I may very well not have another opportunity, so I take them where they come. This melds into and shapes my worldview to do only what God asks of us in the moment that he asks. It's a curious chicken/egg, Daoish, paradox of influence.
But anyway, the point is, I do all year things that most reserve for the one time a year. Therefore when the holidays come and everyone stops doing what they normally do for some unexplained cultural reason, my life grinds to a halt. After 3 months of that, people (including myself) have forgotten what we were doing before that time and have to start all over. What is recalled takes months to ramp up momentum.
In other news, my hand and wife are healing, so even more activities that have been on hold are slowly coming back. Really, I think if it wasn't for these lulls, more would be accomplished.
Another factor contributing to the lull is that we finally completely dropped a major source of irritation and provocation...namely the church we've been going to for many years. Being someone who commits slowly and moves circumspectly, I am also slow to completely drop something. I keep trying and biding until all remnant of good is squeezed out of something and the one last straw falls.
The long and short is, I'm now much happier in that regard. We've started checking out another place which is a very different character, yet not entirely alien. I have no intention of jumping in too heavily, and anyone who wants to argue that I should do otherwise is welcome to step to. I'll challenge anyone to walk in my shoes for a while and tell me they'd do otherwise. Same goes for anyone who says you shouldn't change churches because we're all flawed. I know where they're coming from. I've been them before. Just keep jawing what you don't know...you'll see. And if not, then our paths are different and all the best on yours.
Seriously, I wish people would think a little more before they start spouting advice. Does anyone ever really give good advice? I remember hearing a friend whose job included listening to people's problems say he was done giving advice. I thought I understood, but thought he was taking it too far. Surely sometimes we know what someone else doesn't, I thought. But now, I'm starting to see his point more clearly. We are never in exactly the same place as another. we might be passing nearby, but our lives come from and are going to different places, making it very difficult to ever truly tell someone else what to do with any accuracy. Further, too many people can't see them selves clearly enough, or refuse to admit their own reality, to even see what wisdom you might offer.
I recently had a friend call me repeatedly (I have to tell him I HATE the telephone) to try to get "advice" but each time I clearly saw what he wanted to do and that he was just looking for an excuse to say he'd talked it over even though he'd really already made up his mind. Self deception at it's finest. And this is a smart and relatively good, well-adjusted person!
No, I think the best we can do is listen and reflect, perhaps share a story or thought sparked by what they say and maybe help each other discern our own paths at the moment.
Holidays are finally over and it takes several months to recover some normalcy. Some things never come back. I wonder how many things, good or bad, are lost because of the American Holiday Season. Some people like the change. I think they wait all year to do the things they do in that season. But I don't. I don't see life as that long. Truthfully, it isn't a conscious decision, just the way I am made: I see multiple pathways in everything and that includes the negative. I may very well not have another opportunity, so I take them where they come. This melds into and shapes my worldview to do only what God asks of us in the moment that he asks. It's a curious chicken/egg, Daoish, paradox of influence.
But anyway, the point is, I do all year things that most reserve for the one time a year. Therefore when the holidays come and everyone stops doing what they normally do for some unexplained cultural reason, my life grinds to a halt. After 3 months of that, people (including myself) have forgotten what we were doing before that time and have to start all over. What is recalled takes months to ramp up momentum.
In other news, my hand and wife are healing, so even more activities that have been on hold are slowly coming back. Really, I think if it wasn't for these lulls, more would be accomplished.
Another factor contributing to the lull is that we finally completely dropped a major source of irritation and provocation...namely the church we've been going to for many years. Being someone who commits slowly and moves circumspectly, I am also slow to completely drop something. I keep trying and biding until all remnant of good is squeezed out of something and the one last straw falls.
The long and short is, I'm now much happier in that regard. We've started checking out another place which is a very different character, yet not entirely alien. I have no intention of jumping in too heavily, and anyone who wants to argue that I should do otherwise is welcome to step to. I'll challenge anyone to walk in my shoes for a while and tell me they'd do otherwise. Same goes for anyone who says you shouldn't change churches because we're all flawed. I know where they're coming from. I've been them before. Just keep jawing what you don't know...you'll see. And if not, then our paths are different and all the best on yours.
Seriously, I wish people would think a little more before they start spouting advice. Does anyone ever really give good advice? I remember hearing a friend whose job included listening to people's problems say he was done giving advice. I thought I understood, but thought he was taking it too far. Surely sometimes we know what someone else doesn't, I thought. But now, I'm starting to see his point more clearly. We are never in exactly the same place as another. we might be passing nearby, but our lives come from and are going to different places, making it very difficult to ever truly tell someone else what to do with any accuracy. Further, too many people can't see them selves clearly enough, or refuse to admit their own reality, to even see what wisdom you might offer.
I recently had a friend call me repeatedly (I have to tell him I HATE the telephone) to try to get "advice" but each time I clearly saw what he wanted to do and that he was just looking for an excuse to say he'd talked it over even though he'd really already made up his mind. Self deception at it's finest. And this is a smart and relatively good, well-adjusted person!
No, I think the best we can do is listen and reflect, perhaps share a story or thought sparked by what they say and maybe help each other discern our own paths at the moment.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Peace and Action
Peace is not lack of activity. Action is not lack of peace. I fear that committing to peace will make me soft. But I know this is not true.
It's not a new dynamic entirely. I remember shedding hate years ago in a moment of bright flash, I realized that I was wasting so much energy on hating things and people. I thought it was justified, righteous even, to hate what was evil. I dropped it right then and there. I was walking through Ybor City one afternoon before it was turned into a seedy party spot. (Contrary to popular belief, it was actually safer then...full of people like me and we got along for the most part, but that's another entry.)
But even that wasn't fully dropped. I found lingering elements of hate locked away deep inside me. Levels below the first set. These only surfaced years later. I probably wrote about it here, but don't remember.
So, I know how this works somewhat. But I'm unsure of how to walk it out. How do I interact with people when the scripts I know are all strategies and battle plans? Is there any reference to draw upon? Sources for new scripts?
There are a few. The Practice of the Presence is one. Uncle George has a few too. But in my own life and time, I have some. I remember a time when I was all about actions to give a little wonder and joy. Like an imp spreading good mischief, I was always looking for a way to surprise people with a little Amelie-style goodness, far before that movie, lest anyone think I copied it. It may be time to resurrect these to some extent. I'd stand in a crowd and say hi to people then give a dollar to whoever greeted me back. I'd slip up behind some random acquaintance and slide some jewelry around her neck. Pay for someone's meal behind me and walk away. Climb into scenic overlooks and wave frantically back at people, swinging from a tree or some other feature. (People always cracked up at this.) Strike up conversations with strangers as if I knew them, never letting them tell me they didn't know me. Physical clowning was always great. Run into something, get sprayed in the face, dive into a sand trap on a golf course and then rake out all the prints but the body shape. One I never did, but saw in an obscure movie years later and wished I had: buy objects at thrift stores with people's names on them and secretly deliver them to people with those names.
Perhaps I never fully gave them up. But I have largely lost this sensibility. I think it's the slow dulling grind of daily routine that wore it away. But I think these are seeds of a new mode of activity. One which defuses and brightens, instead of stokes and obscures.
It's not a new dynamic entirely. I remember shedding hate years ago in a moment of bright flash, I realized that I was wasting so much energy on hating things and people. I thought it was justified, righteous even, to hate what was evil. I dropped it right then and there. I was walking through Ybor City one afternoon before it was turned into a seedy party spot. (Contrary to popular belief, it was actually safer then...full of people like me and we got along for the most part, but that's another entry.)
But even that wasn't fully dropped. I found lingering elements of hate locked away deep inside me. Levels below the first set. These only surfaced years later. I probably wrote about it here, but don't remember.
So, I know how this works somewhat. But I'm unsure of how to walk it out. How do I interact with people when the scripts I know are all strategies and battle plans? Is there any reference to draw upon? Sources for new scripts?
There are a few. The Practice of the Presence is one. Uncle George has a few too. But in my own life and time, I have some. I remember a time when I was all about actions to give a little wonder and joy. Like an imp spreading good mischief, I was always looking for a way to surprise people with a little Amelie-style goodness, far before that movie, lest anyone think I copied it. It may be time to resurrect these to some extent. I'd stand in a crowd and say hi to people then give a dollar to whoever greeted me back. I'd slip up behind some random acquaintance and slide some jewelry around her neck. Pay for someone's meal behind me and walk away. Climb into scenic overlooks and wave frantically back at people, swinging from a tree or some other feature. (People always cracked up at this.) Strike up conversations with strangers as if I knew them, never letting them tell me they didn't know me. Physical clowning was always great. Run into something, get sprayed in the face, dive into a sand trap on a golf course and then rake out all the prints but the body shape. One I never did, but saw in an obscure movie years later and wished I had: buy objects at thrift stores with people's names on them and secretly deliver them to people with those names.
Perhaps I never fully gave them up. But I have largely lost this sensibility. I think it's the slow dulling grind of daily routine that wore it away. But I think these are seeds of a new mode of activity. One which defuses and brightens, instead of stokes and obscures.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Man of Peace
Sometimes things get away from us before we notice them. I'm convinced most bad things start as good ideas that get perverted in the application...probably by small unnoticeable steps. I recently found myself being quite tense and angry. Every little thing began to bother me.
Fortunately, I rather quickly realized that it wasn't a problem with the entire world, but with me. Among the quite probable multiple errors I made in this, one I noticed was that I felt as if I was resisting a constant tide. It was me standing strong, fighting forward, alone against the fray...metaphorically, in my mind.
Like I said, I don't think this is wrong in itself. I think we need more people who stand up for what is right, demand that as far as their influence reaches, things are done well and honestly. The probelm is this is very tiring, alienating, stressful.
The truth is, I don't have to fix everything, including myself. In fact, I have to fix nothing. The yoke should be easy, and the burden light, not the opposite. Funny how fighting to take off burdens becomes a burden in itself.
But I don't want to dwell on the principles, I want to talk about the specifics in this case. I am laying down my arms. I have misunderstood the militaristic imagery of the Bible in my own way. I have realized that I can't be any kind of hard-minded. This includes how I think of myself. I am shedding the Holy Knight's armor for the friar's habit. I no longer want to be the warrior monk, not even the standoffish Ranger exuding a watchful quiet that whispers of latent danger. I want to be Brother Elias and Lawrence. Bombadil. Unaffected by the churning of the world.
I don't mean to close myself off to the world, but to approach it differently. I had become so focused on defending my flock that I lost sight of the fact that the flock isn't in any real danger. Not circumstantially, but existentially, catagorically. They are safe because they have been removed from the possibility of harm.
I love the epic story so much, it's easy to cast myself in that light. But the truth is, the danger has been eliminated. Truthfully, there never was any real danger. God has always been in control, nothing occurs outside his will, and even the most dastardly schemes to do harm are woven back beyond impotence to actually work good and the will of the Father. This is the Gospel. The world is restored.
The people I most admire overcame terrible circumstances and even walked into horrific death, not as steely gladiators, afraid of nothing, but as simple people so convinced that the world had been set right that even their present suffering was not a blip on their radar.
This is who I want to be. And I can't do that with my fist clenched and my fangs bared. So I'm laying down my guard, laying down my weapons. I'm sure there is a place for those feelings, but I can't use them right now. They are too tainted, carry too much possibility of consuming me. So while I may still feel those urges, I am offering myself up to a new perspective and can only pray that I do not go the way of Mendoza in the Mission. I want to be a man of peace.
What this means for me is that I will not associate myself with or flood myself with images of fighting. I will not style myself that way any more. My physical training will shift: rather than preparing to face the foe, to be ready to snatch the helpless from the jaws of the beast, I will move out of joy and celebration. I will look for and acknowledge the good. I am choosing a path of peace...not pacifism, but understanding conflict, it's roots, and moving beyond it. I have to learn to let God fight for me and not the other way around. I think I'll find that there will be no fight to have because all the variables are in God's control.
I'm sure this makes little sense and is far too internal to be of much use to anyone else. But this is the key to my cage. I'm opening the door and walking out to find it was never locked.
Fortunately, I rather quickly realized that it wasn't a problem with the entire world, but with me. Among the quite probable multiple errors I made in this, one I noticed was that I felt as if I was resisting a constant tide. It was me standing strong, fighting forward, alone against the fray...metaphorically, in my mind.
Like I said, I don't think this is wrong in itself. I think we need more people who stand up for what is right, demand that as far as their influence reaches, things are done well and honestly. The probelm is this is very tiring, alienating, stressful.
The truth is, I don't have to fix everything, including myself. In fact, I have to fix nothing. The yoke should be easy, and the burden light, not the opposite. Funny how fighting to take off burdens becomes a burden in itself.
But I don't want to dwell on the principles, I want to talk about the specifics in this case. I am laying down my arms. I have misunderstood the militaristic imagery of the Bible in my own way. I have realized that I can't be any kind of hard-minded. This includes how I think of myself. I am shedding the Holy Knight's armor for the friar's habit. I no longer want to be the warrior monk, not even the standoffish Ranger exuding a watchful quiet that whispers of latent danger. I want to be Brother Elias and Lawrence. Bombadil. Unaffected by the churning of the world.
I don't mean to close myself off to the world, but to approach it differently. I had become so focused on defending my flock that I lost sight of the fact that the flock isn't in any real danger. Not circumstantially, but existentially, catagorically. They are safe because they have been removed from the possibility of harm.
I love the epic story so much, it's easy to cast myself in that light. But the truth is, the danger has been eliminated. Truthfully, there never was any real danger. God has always been in control, nothing occurs outside his will, and even the most dastardly schemes to do harm are woven back beyond impotence to actually work good and the will of the Father. This is the Gospel. The world is restored.
The people I most admire overcame terrible circumstances and even walked into horrific death, not as steely gladiators, afraid of nothing, but as simple people so convinced that the world had been set right that even their present suffering was not a blip on their radar.
This is who I want to be. And I can't do that with my fist clenched and my fangs bared. So I'm laying down my guard, laying down my weapons. I'm sure there is a place for those feelings, but I can't use them right now. They are too tainted, carry too much possibility of consuming me. So while I may still feel those urges, I am offering myself up to a new perspective and can only pray that I do not go the way of Mendoza in the Mission. I want to be a man of peace.
What this means for me is that I will not associate myself with or flood myself with images of fighting. I will not style myself that way any more. My physical training will shift: rather than preparing to face the foe, to be ready to snatch the helpless from the jaws of the beast, I will move out of joy and celebration. I will look for and acknowledge the good. I am choosing a path of peace...not pacifism, but understanding conflict, it's roots, and moving beyond it. I have to learn to let God fight for me and not the other way around. I think I'll find that there will be no fight to have because all the variables are in God's control.
I'm sure this makes little sense and is far too internal to be of much use to anyone else. But this is the key to my cage. I'm opening the door and walking out to find it was never locked.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Cages
A couple of things are rolling around in my head. One has to do with joy. What is it? I've read the definition, but it seems inadequate. Maybe I've just not experienced it. I know peace (which is an inner quiet). I know happiness (which is dependent on circumstances). But I can't say I've ever known an abiding gladness...Perhaps I have, there was a time I think I had it. Things weren't perfect, but I just seemed to be glad, positive, most of the time.
Though, it seems this had much to do with the circumstances, which would pull it into the realm of happiness, right? I distinctly remember frustrations and difficulties then, so I know this isn't a rosy memory (though I don't have those anyway). Truly, I tend to see always the bad, so to remember a time of happiness that was longer than fleeting is something.
Just recently, I have felt a deep need for joy. I even almost felt it yesterday, but it escaped me before I could fully feel it. It was like a shadow of it, or a snatch of music heard indistinctly. And then it was gone.
This transitions nicely into the other thing in my head...I'd wondered how they would relate. I have blogged previously about my naturally darker nature. I have to accept it. I have tried to change it, ignore it, etc. But it is part of me, and this is not necessarily a defect.
So what stands in my way? I think it has to do with cages, fetters. I despise them. I hate being tied down or restricted. Not all restrictions; some are necessary, I know that. But the unnecessary tangles of life, those I hate. Mortgages, bills, tenuous family obligations. These are drudgery and torture. Give me one day when I am stuck at home with nothing to do and unable to leave because of something like, my son is out playing and too young to leave alone...and I'm prowling the floors like a tiger, looking for anything to occupy the restlessness. Read, watch pointless TV; this only goes so far. Sleep; that too only covers so much. This is why I make so many things with my hands...anything to occupy my mind when I can't go and do.
My wife seems to like those times. Relaxing, she calls it. It's torture. I want to rip the walls down. Sometimes I'll go outside, but I'm surrounded by acres and acres of more little cages with small caged streets and bigger caged streets and fences, all hemming me into this world of cushy padded nothing.
Granted, it is good to be safe and secure. This is a blessing I would not withhold from anyone. I think what is missing in it is meaning. Real depth. Challenge. I am so in love with adventure stories, books, movies. I want to be swept away on some quest or mission. I want every moment to feel vibrant and real. Then when I return home, I'll want to be here. To rest and enjoy the peace. But eventually to go back out into the world again.
I do not pretend to have missed my calling. I am what I should be, or on the journey toward it. But at times like these, especially around holidays when I am sitting around endlessly, it gets to me. I want my family to join me. But they are not that type. I can't make my wife into what she is not. My son will join some, but is also content to sit and putter.
I work my life to be as free as possible, but everywhere, people throw fetters on. We're not good citizens if we aren't chained down a hundred ways. And so I sit, and prowl, and make something, and prowl. I may even get fed up and disappear for a short time, but the chains of responsibility will pull me back again.
I will step out on the road and wish for something to happen that breaks the chains.
Actually...I think I've just hit something else. My anxiety from being around other people comes precisely because I am so looking for this kind of life. I feel like the Ranger sitting cloaked in the corner, ever watchful, ever ready to strike, to move, to go. But outside is nothing but padded walls and fat docile pets. With expectation of something more and no where to direct it, everywhere becomes a source of irritation, anxiety. It's like the tiger who attacks the one who feeds it, or an innocent bystander. I just want out of the cage.
Though, it seems this had much to do with the circumstances, which would pull it into the realm of happiness, right? I distinctly remember frustrations and difficulties then, so I know this isn't a rosy memory (though I don't have those anyway). Truly, I tend to see always the bad, so to remember a time of happiness that was longer than fleeting is something.
Just recently, I have felt a deep need for joy. I even almost felt it yesterday, but it escaped me before I could fully feel it. It was like a shadow of it, or a snatch of music heard indistinctly. And then it was gone.
This transitions nicely into the other thing in my head...I'd wondered how they would relate. I have blogged previously about my naturally darker nature. I have to accept it. I have tried to change it, ignore it, etc. But it is part of me, and this is not necessarily a defect.
So what stands in my way? I think it has to do with cages, fetters. I despise them. I hate being tied down or restricted. Not all restrictions; some are necessary, I know that. But the unnecessary tangles of life, those I hate. Mortgages, bills, tenuous family obligations. These are drudgery and torture. Give me one day when I am stuck at home with nothing to do and unable to leave because of something like, my son is out playing and too young to leave alone...and I'm prowling the floors like a tiger, looking for anything to occupy the restlessness. Read, watch pointless TV; this only goes so far. Sleep; that too only covers so much. This is why I make so many things with my hands...anything to occupy my mind when I can't go and do.
My wife seems to like those times. Relaxing, she calls it. It's torture. I want to rip the walls down. Sometimes I'll go outside, but I'm surrounded by acres and acres of more little cages with small caged streets and bigger caged streets and fences, all hemming me into this world of cushy padded nothing.
Granted, it is good to be safe and secure. This is a blessing I would not withhold from anyone. I think what is missing in it is meaning. Real depth. Challenge. I am so in love with adventure stories, books, movies. I want to be swept away on some quest or mission. I want every moment to feel vibrant and real. Then when I return home, I'll want to be here. To rest and enjoy the peace. But eventually to go back out into the world again.
I do not pretend to have missed my calling. I am what I should be, or on the journey toward it. But at times like these, especially around holidays when I am sitting around endlessly, it gets to me. I want my family to join me. But they are not that type. I can't make my wife into what she is not. My son will join some, but is also content to sit and putter.
I work my life to be as free as possible, but everywhere, people throw fetters on. We're not good citizens if we aren't chained down a hundred ways. And so I sit, and prowl, and make something, and prowl. I may even get fed up and disappear for a short time, but the chains of responsibility will pull me back again.
I will step out on the road and wish for something to happen that breaks the chains.
Actually...I think I've just hit something else. My anxiety from being around other people comes precisely because I am so looking for this kind of life. I feel like the Ranger sitting cloaked in the corner, ever watchful, ever ready to strike, to move, to go. But outside is nothing but padded walls and fat docile pets. With expectation of something more and no where to direct it, everywhere becomes a source of irritation, anxiety. It's like the tiger who attacks the one who feeds it, or an innocent bystander. I just want out of the cage.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Power
Power can never be taken. It can only be given. This is absolutely true. To understand it, though, we have to understand power.
Merriam-Webster defines it as 1. ability to act or produce an effect. 2. possession of control, influence, or authority over others. 3. physical might.
I'm obviously talking about definition 2, but in a less direct way, my statement also applies to 1 and 3.
So regarding power over others, this power can only be given with the consent of those over whom it is exercised. We don't like to think of it that way because too many of us lay down and roll over to let people have power over us. We want to feel excused, that there was nothing we could do. But this is false because no one can physically make you do anything you do not choose to do.
Actually, there's two exceptions. They can make you hurt and they can make you die. But they still can't make you do anything they want you to do. What we call oppression is really just strong coercion. An oppressor finds something we want and attempts to control our receipt of it contingent upon us doing what they want. This doesn't always have to be negative. Many rulers know that positive reinforcement is better than negative in many cases. In this case we don't tend to call it oppression, but the principle is the same. We want the reward, so we comply. Parents use this all the time.
Another side of this coercion complex involves vilifying those who don't comply and making negative examples of them. This plays on the human tendency to conform and really just greases the wheels of the coercive process.
But it doesn't always work. If a person or people lose the fear of the consequences, the power is gone. Unfortunately in our society, one of the largest coercive factors is the idea that death is the ultimate evil. If life is to be preserved at all costs, the power is handed over. It simply becomes a matter of the degree to which it is exercised. But if death is not feared, the ruler is grasping at straws because even pain is not so effective a coercion simply because no ruler can hurt enough people. sure it may work one on one, but usually this occurs only after someone has already given over too much power in the first place.
Here's some examples. Ever wonder why Native Americans were not enslaved by the Europeans? Why would they go to the trouble and expense to catch and ship over Africans when there was an ample supply of primitive people right in their own backyard? The answer is that they tried. The problem was that Native Americans were (and still are) an independent and defiant people who do not hand over their power. Even if one could be taken alive, he or she would not work. Give them a tool and they'd put it through your head. Slack the chain and they'd wrap it around your neck. Pen them up and try to break them, and they'd simply starve to death or take their own life before giving in. Where do you think that fierce independent streak of American culture came from? Indians weren't destroyed. They were absorbed. The distinct cultures were largely lost, but I am a living example of the assimilated, but not conquered people who have left an indelible mark on American culture. Truly, modern American culture IS a hybrid of Native and European and African influences. But I digress.
Secondly, the Christian martyrs, both ancient and modern. They came from the dominant cultures in which they were found, but lost their fear of death and even pain because of their faith. While they didn't often resort to violent resistance, they were never conquered and thousands have refused to submit to countless regimes that violated their beliefs.
Third, Muslim martyrs. The reason Islamic terrorism is so scary is that it can occur anywhere and from anyone. A people who are not afraid to die do not need to submit.
But I also mentioned torture as often the result of having given up power and attempting to take it back too late. The best example I know are the Nazi concentration camp victims. Countless people sat by and watched as they gave up more and more power to the Nazi regime. Then even when they were being hauled away, few resisted. Some did. But not most.
The Christian martyrs are not exactly in this state because they willingly submitted to the torture because of their beliefs in nonviolence. Since it was willing, they weren't technically abdicating their power, but choosing not to exercise their power out of deference to God, whom they believed to be in control even in that time. Some were miraculously rescued, others weren't. But before you go trying to say this proves God doesn't exist or didn't favor them, remember what I said about death not being the ultimate evil.
I want to be clear, that I'm not downplaying the strength of the coercion. I'm not judging anyone for acting or not acting in any way. Until we're there, we can't say how we'd react either. I'm simply pointing out that these were indeed cases where power was given and not taken.
I'm not even saying it is wrong to always allow someone power over you. Certainly there are cases where it is wise, prudent, beneficial, and even good to submit. The difference is the understanding of what we're doing. It is voluntary submission. No human has power over another by innate right. It is ALWAYS by the consent of the governed.
This understanding should color our views of those over us. It should also color our views of those under us. Doubtless someone will quote the Bible passage about submitting to those in authority because God placed them there. Yes. I agree. What does this have to do with my point? I still have the choice to submit or not, for good or ill. I still can't be compelled to do what a ruler says. And if you are citing this passage, I'd like to also point out the many others about leaders whom God also took down...many through the violent and bloody hands of His people. So it cuts both ways, pastor. Are you so certain of which type of leader you are?
So where does this leave us? Is there a way to act in society? Yes, I think a mutual respect among all people, a servant leadership that understands it is just that, paired with a diverse and necessary body of others who are no less necessary and no less favored. While this is an ideal that may be hard to reach (at least in the US), I suggest we at least reclaim the mannered equipoise of many cultures past and present: Know you have less power than you think you do, and there's always a chance I could be more coercive than you, or at least willing to put you to the ultimate test of defending your power (i.e. I might kill you.) So let's just be polite and we'll get along fine.
As for a better way, I think we have that as well. God, being the prime source and beyond our influence altogether, has established that goodness and love flow from Him to us. Goodness and love draw the recipient toward the giver. Thus we comply not from coercion, but as a gift back. It works in the human realm, we've all seen it. Betrayal is universally denounced. Good deserves good. Love deserves love. It sidesteps the whole power dynamic altogether. This is how Jesus operated. This is how many Christians operate. It just had to start somewhere, and God took care of that for us. Or rather, He established the universe that way, so we really have no other choice. To defy it simply negates our own being. A self-perpetuating system, no punishment necessary.
So I'll leave you with this. If you are having to manipulate and strive to get people to do what you think they should, you're doing something wrong. If you have to beg for money or tell people God won't bless them. If you have to make lighthearted threats to get them to sign up for your program. You are slipping into the power dynamic, which means you don't have the power in the first place. Forcing that will be your undoing.
The only winning move is not to play.
Merriam-Webster defines it as 1. ability to act or produce an effect. 2. possession of control, influence, or authority over others. 3. physical might.
I'm obviously talking about definition 2, but in a less direct way, my statement also applies to 1 and 3.
So regarding power over others, this power can only be given with the consent of those over whom it is exercised. We don't like to think of it that way because too many of us lay down and roll over to let people have power over us. We want to feel excused, that there was nothing we could do. But this is false because no one can physically make you do anything you do not choose to do.
Actually, there's two exceptions. They can make you hurt and they can make you die. But they still can't make you do anything they want you to do. What we call oppression is really just strong coercion. An oppressor finds something we want and attempts to control our receipt of it contingent upon us doing what they want. This doesn't always have to be negative. Many rulers know that positive reinforcement is better than negative in many cases. In this case we don't tend to call it oppression, but the principle is the same. We want the reward, so we comply. Parents use this all the time.
Another side of this coercion complex involves vilifying those who don't comply and making negative examples of them. This plays on the human tendency to conform and really just greases the wheels of the coercive process.
But it doesn't always work. If a person or people lose the fear of the consequences, the power is gone. Unfortunately in our society, one of the largest coercive factors is the idea that death is the ultimate evil. If life is to be preserved at all costs, the power is handed over. It simply becomes a matter of the degree to which it is exercised. But if death is not feared, the ruler is grasping at straws because even pain is not so effective a coercion simply because no ruler can hurt enough people. sure it may work one on one, but usually this occurs only after someone has already given over too much power in the first place.
Here's some examples. Ever wonder why Native Americans were not enslaved by the Europeans? Why would they go to the trouble and expense to catch and ship over Africans when there was an ample supply of primitive people right in their own backyard? The answer is that they tried. The problem was that Native Americans were (and still are) an independent and defiant people who do not hand over their power. Even if one could be taken alive, he or she would not work. Give them a tool and they'd put it through your head. Slack the chain and they'd wrap it around your neck. Pen them up and try to break them, and they'd simply starve to death or take their own life before giving in. Where do you think that fierce independent streak of American culture came from? Indians weren't destroyed. They were absorbed. The distinct cultures were largely lost, but I am a living example of the assimilated, but not conquered people who have left an indelible mark on American culture. Truly, modern American culture IS a hybrid of Native and European and African influences. But I digress.
Secondly, the Christian martyrs, both ancient and modern. They came from the dominant cultures in which they were found, but lost their fear of death and even pain because of their faith. While they didn't often resort to violent resistance, they were never conquered and thousands have refused to submit to countless regimes that violated their beliefs.
Third, Muslim martyrs. The reason Islamic terrorism is so scary is that it can occur anywhere and from anyone. A people who are not afraid to die do not need to submit.
But I also mentioned torture as often the result of having given up power and attempting to take it back too late. The best example I know are the Nazi concentration camp victims. Countless people sat by and watched as they gave up more and more power to the Nazi regime. Then even when they were being hauled away, few resisted. Some did. But not most.
The Christian martyrs are not exactly in this state because they willingly submitted to the torture because of their beliefs in nonviolence. Since it was willing, they weren't technically abdicating their power, but choosing not to exercise their power out of deference to God, whom they believed to be in control even in that time. Some were miraculously rescued, others weren't. But before you go trying to say this proves God doesn't exist or didn't favor them, remember what I said about death not being the ultimate evil.
I want to be clear, that I'm not downplaying the strength of the coercion. I'm not judging anyone for acting or not acting in any way. Until we're there, we can't say how we'd react either. I'm simply pointing out that these were indeed cases where power was given and not taken.
I'm not even saying it is wrong to always allow someone power over you. Certainly there are cases where it is wise, prudent, beneficial, and even good to submit. The difference is the understanding of what we're doing. It is voluntary submission. No human has power over another by innate right. It is ALWAYS by the consent of the governed.
This understanding should color our views of those over us. It should also color our views of those under us. Doubtless someone will quote the Bible passage about submitting to those in authority because God placed them there. Yes. I agree. What does this have to do with my point? I still have the choice to submit or not, for good or ill. I still can't be compelled to do what a ruler says. And if you are citing this passage, I'd like to also point out the many others about leaders whom God also took down...many through the violent and bloody hands of His people. So it cuts both ways, pastor. Are you so certain of which type of leader you are?
So where does this leave us? Is there a way to act in society? Yes, I think a mutual respect among all people, a servant leadership that understands it is just that, paired with a diverse and necessary body of others who are no less necessary and no less favored. While this is an ideal that may be hard to reach (at least in the US), I suggest we at least reclaim the mannered equipoise of many cultures past and present: Know you have less power than you think you do, and there's always a chance I could be more coercive than you, or at least willing to put you to the ultimate test of defending your power (i.e. I might kill you.) So let's just be polite and we'll get along fine.
As for a better way, I think we have that as well. God, being the prime source and beyond our influence altogether, has established that goodness and love flow from Him to us. Goodness and love draw the recipient toward the giver. Thus we comply not from coercion, but as a gift back. It works in the human realm, we've all seen it. Betrayal is universally denounced. Good deserves good. Love deserves love. It sidesteps the whole power dynamic altogether. This is how Jesus operated. This is how many Christians operate. It just had to start somewhere, and God took care of that for us. Or rather, He established the universe that way, so we really have no other choice. To defy it simply negates our own being. A self-perpetuating system, no punishment necessary.
So I'll leave you with this. If you are having to manipulate and strive to get people to do what you think they should, you're doing something wrong. If you have to beg for money or tell people God won't bless them. If you have to make lighthearted threats to get them to sign up for your program. You are slipping into the power dynamic, which means you don't have the power in the first place. Forcing that will be your undoing.
The only winning move is not to play.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Charlie
Here we are at holiday season again in the U.S. It starts with Thanksgiving. Which is a day to give thanks for all that we have through the year. It is based in our earliest history as a nation. Really, one of the founding events for Americans as a people...the merging of Native American and European cultures.
But in reality, it has become nothing more than a day to party. Just like every other popular holiday here. And American party means noise, alcohol, and a general excuse to act rude and slightly debauched in the name of "good cheer". People have already started buying enough food to feed a developing village for a week. Some are having dinners tonight. Tomorrow the real feasting will occur. Some people going to 3 or 4 feasts.
Then Friday following has become a day to consume yet even more as people flock to stores and fight to buy all the bait and switch deals. I have never been to a store on "Black Friday" but I did go to one on Sunday after, last year. Things were literally thrown around like a riot had occurred. This is "celebrating".
And I'll have to go to some obligatory feast of my own (I'll only do one)...deciding which family group will feel most slighted if I don't go. I'll see people I don't know and don't have anything in common with, other than some tenuous genetic connections. I'll smile and be cordial and make polite excuses for not eating foods I can't eat and probably get sick from eating some things just to shut people up.
Christmas specials have already started in stores, on TV, everywhere telling me what I am supposed to do and feel and most having no concept of what the holiday really is...or rather no concept of what that means...I'm sure most actually know what it is about.
So now starts my least favorite time of year. I wish I could just not participate at all. The favorite holiday season of my life was the one I spent in Japan where most didn't know about my holidays and fewer cared. I was able to keep them in my own way, sharing peaceful and enjoyable time with my family and a few friends we shared our traditions with. But unfortunately, here that is impossible.
I'll try not to be obviously negative so as not to ruin it for others...but maybe it's worth ruining. Am I doing those I care for a disservice by not expressing what is hollow and wrong?
I have made certain stands, but they are to little avail against the tide of prescribed consumption and obligatory "cheer".
So if you see me through this season, give me a little nod that you understand. I know I'm not alone. And if you disagree, that's fine. You keep it your way and leave me to keep it mine. You've got the whole culture with you. The least you could do is give me a little space to salvage what good I can scrounge out of it without judgement or pressure.
But in reality, it has become nothing more than a day to party. Just like every other popular holiday here. And American party means noise, alcohol, and a general excuse to act rude and slightly debauched in the name of "good cheer". People have already started buying enough food to feed a developing village for a week. Some are having dinners tonight. Tomorrow the real feasting will occur. Some people going to 3 or 4 feasts.
Then Friday following has become a day to consume yet even more as people flock to stores and fight to buy all the bait and switch deals. I have never been to a store on "Black Friday" but I did go to one on Sunday after, last year. Things were literally thrown around like a riot had occurred. This is "celebrating".
And I'll have to go to some obligatory feast of my own (I'll only do one)...deciding which family group will feel most slighted if I don't go. I'll see people I don't know and don't have anything in common with, other than some tenuous genetic connections. I'll smile and be cordial and make polite excuses for not eating foods I can't eat and probably get sick from eating some things just to shut people up.
Christmas specials have already started in stores, on TV, everywhere telling me what I am supposed to do and feel and most having no concept of what the holiday really is...or rather no concept of what that means...I'm sure most actually know what it is about.
So now starts my least favorite time of year. I wish I could just not participate at all. The favorite holiday season of my life was the one I spent in Japan where most didn't know about my holidays and fewer cared. I was able to keep them in my own way, sharing peaceful and enjoyable time with my family and a few friends we shared our traditions with. But unfortunately, here that is impossible.
I'll try not to be obviously negative so as not to ruin it for others...but maybe it's worth ruining. Am I doing those I care for a disservice by not expressing what is hollow and wrong?
I have made certain stands, but they are to little avail against the tide of prescribed consumption and obligatory "cheer".
So if you see me through this season, give me a little nod that you understand. I know I'm not alone. And if you disagree, that's fine. You keep it your way and leave me to keep it mine. You've got the whole culture with you. The least you could do is give me a little space to salvage what good I can scrounge out of it without judgement or pressure.
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