Shining Spirit

In my eighth decade of life, I can tell you with absolute certainty that the object pictured above is a large piece of driftwood that found its new home on the Oregon beach. Does that interest you? Excite you? Make you want to run away? Consider this: If, instead of 82, I was 8 years- old, I could tell you with reasonable certainty that the object pictured above is a giant beach monster…a sand-eating, people-chasing, bow-legged monster. And I would advise you to get out of its way.

Something happens between 8 and 82. We grow up, yes. We mature in our thinking processes, yes. And we lose far too much of our capacities to imagine. Without doubt. “What if…” is the language of imagination. You and I will never regain the quality of our 8-year-old imaginations, but we can look around us and see what the world would be like if nations didn’t war against nations. If everyone had enough eat and a safe place to sleep. If justice and honesty drove our economic and/or political systems. What if… Change in this old world can come at the end of a sword or as the result of power, but “what if” we imagined our way into justice. That is soul work, spirit work, and it takes courage to move into this child-like, sacred way of relating to reality. Imagining has to be turned into acting, to doing. But it takes folks like you to strike the match. What if you imagined 5 new things before dinner tonight, five new things that would make the world right around you a better, safer, smarter place. You can’t change the world with one “what if…” but maybe you could begin to influence change in your little patch of life.

So, say after me…”What if….” You take it from there.

Aren’t skies beautiful? Well, most of the time. But even in storms, lightening flashes and ominous clouds can be breathtaking. I drive along the coastal beach road each morning to say hello to the great ocean and the surf rolling in. Sometimes it’s difficult to see the magnificent scene because of invading fog or heavy mist, but I can hear it. I know it’s there. And the song it sings is a glad “good morning” in return. On this particular day, I watched the light give way to evening, and it wasn’t the sand or the surf that caused the gasp. Sky again!

I hope you stop for a moment today and look up. No matter where you are, there is sky above you and it holds something your soul needs…something beautiful, something intriguing, something special you will miss if you don’t look up. And while you’re looking, say “thank you.” Gratitude is a nice response to Grace. Be blessed today. Be a blessing.

I had the world to myself today along narrow streets bathed in cold December rain, walking as royalty over thick carpets of fading yellow leaves, accompanied by insistent winds singing through mist covered pines. I had the world to myself today and I found few words with which to express the rush of gratitude I felt in my heart, for the gifts of the earth and being a part of this sacred moment, divine revealing to this broken earth so in need of healing.

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” Thank you to Vivian Greene. Dance on.

The streets are shiny this morning,
narrow black tunnels through
rain soaked trees;
song birds sleep much later
in wet, cold weather.
No deer nibbling plants in the front yard.
The bobcat isn’t out looking for the rabbit,
and at 6:20, a reasonable hour, it is
still as black as coal outside.
It is as if the world is paused in night mode,
waiting, somewhat impatiently,
to fling back the curtain
and let the drama of the day begin.

But where is the script?
What words do I say when
the house lights go down?
What emotional expressions?
Robust or recluse? Courageous
or cowering? But there is no
script, is there.
Only reaction to, or better yet,
relationship with the unfolding
of life in the immediate moments
ahead. To be in relationship with
is so very different from
reacting to…

Today I will be in relationship
with life, in communion with
the revealing,
not as critical spectator,
but as a participant, a small
element of the eternal.
Today I will help write history.
And so will you.
Today matters.

I was stomping around on a wet patch of ground soaked by two days of non-stop rain, trying to get just the right position for the perfect picture of a large rock formation. It wasn’t easy because the ground was uneven, a little slippery, and I wasn’t looking down much because of my focus on the picture target. When I was about to settle into that “perfect” place, at about the final stride through thick underbrush, I looked down and met the angels. One more step would have put me right in the middle of a pansy patch, a beautiful collection of bright purple flowers, each one boasting the design of an angel with extended wings. For a wonderful moment, I forgot about the rocks and the difficulty journey to photogaph them and I started shooting pictures of these remarkable flowers. The big rock formation will be there for a long, long time, but the angels will fly away very soon. So, I brought them this morning to share with you. There are angels all over the place, so watch where you walk, where you step. We are not alone in this time and place. You might even have encountered one and not known it. Rejoice in the reality that life is precious, that we are all related as members of this remarkable creation, and that angels abound. Thanks be to God!

Do you see it? It’s right there. Slightly to the left of center. On the horizon. It’s the end, or the beginning, of a rainbow. I know it’s difficult to see…but then, so are a lot of life’s wonderful surprises. Maybe today or tomorrow a rainbow will pop up on your horizon. Take time to look, to listen, to feel the affirmations and blessings that will surely come your way. They won’t intrude, but they will welcome your embrace. Keep looking. Press on.

You’re looking at The Three Graces, three large rock formations in Nehalem Bay on the coast of Oregon. Many years ago, when fishermen brought their boats to the narrow passage from the Pacific Ocean into the bay, they searched the horizon for The Three Graces, markers very important for their safety. The helmsman would align the boat in a certain way in reference to the Graces, thus increasing chances that the little craft would make it over the extremely rough waters at the bay’s entrance. Markers are important, aren’t they. Most of us need markers to keep us on course, out of treacherous waters. Spend a little time today taking inventory of the markers in your life. What guidelines, principles, imperatives have helped to keep you on course? It’s good to keep them in sight because rough waters can appear unexpectedly. But you know that, don’t you. In Christ, press on.

I hope you have a spoonful of joy today! Take stock of your blessings…name them one by one. And then be a blessing in gratitude.

Dark clouds like to think they are so powerful, so ominous that they can block out the light of hope in human lives. Dark clouds have big egos. The ones I’ve met over the years refuse to believe that light is stronger than darkness. They deny and deny, but light always finds a way through. That’s the message of the photo, a beautiful illustration of light’s tenacity.

It won’t be long before the season of Advent begins in the Christian tradition, four weeks leading up Christmas and the birth of the one who was called “the light of the world.” The Jewish community also celebrates a special season on the calendar. It’s called the “festival of light” or Hanukkah. When I saw this beautiful scene over the Pacific Ocean yesterday, I felt deep gratitude for the times in my life when Light overcame darkness.

In your life, too? I’m not surprised. Light shines on and through us, even in the darkest times. Give thanks today for the light you see and for the Light you carry in your soul. Be Light.