Shining Spirit

“A true leader has the confidence to stand alone,
the courage to make tough decisions, and
the compassion to listen to the needs of
others.  He does not set out to be a
leader but becomes one by the
quality of his actions and
the integrity of his intent.”
–Douglas MacArthur

Show me what you speak.
Turn words into work.
Touch my heart,
not my mind alone.
Leave traces of integrity
everywhere you go,
compassion as the result
of your presence.
Be mercifully just and
honorably courageous,
and I will follow you into any darkness.

“Leadership is a potent combination
of strategy and character.  But if
you must be without one, be
without strategy.”
–H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Jr.

One hundred sheep and one runs away.
Will he live to see another day?
Will the shepherd find traces of flesh and bone?
Death awaits the lamb, lost and alone
in this wild and vicious land.

It’s only one sheep, so let it go.
It should not have wandered and been so slow.
Your job is to mind and faithfully keep
the rest of these nervous and valuable sheep.
Write it off as a business loss.

Wait!  Stop! Don’t leave the flock alone!
The owner will say that you’ve clearly shown
a lack of trust and no common sense.
You’ll be marked as a man of incompetence.
What if the wolves attack!

But he left the nervous, huddled sheep,
searched valleys and caves and rugged peaks
until he heard a muffled cry
of a little lamb about to die.
The lost is found and saved.

So the story is told again and again
of this remarkable, courageous, loving man
who brought the sheep home, everyone,
gave a party to celebrate what had been done,
the Good Shepherd who finds the lost.

Drink deeply of this fine day
Taste the nectar
Listen to all the air songs
circling through the trees
Inhale the fragrance of a new morning
Watch the beetle cross the sidewalk
with delicate intention
Lay on damp grass and
feel the moisture meet your skin
Look up
Breathe

Today is my birthday.
At 4:32 a.m., I  emerged
from a dark place, warm
and comfortable, opened
my eyes and encountered
life’s realities.  So different
from the pleasant darkness,
yet so compelling.

Today will be my first today.
I will live this amazing day
with everything-is-new eyes
and I’ve-never-heard-that-before
ears.  I will learn something
brand new, fill a very small
place with love.  I will grow.

Today I am born yet again
into possibility.  My life is
a gift and I will treat it that
way.  And when I return to
the mystery from which I
came, the fertile ground of
love, I will be embraced
by the question:

Did you live?

And I will answer–

Yes

But, who is my neighbor?

Next door?
Around the corner?
Schoolmates?
Co-workers?
Next town?
Another state?
A different country?
(Choose one of the following)

“Neighbor” is about geographic location: the guy next door
“Neighbor” is a relationship: with somebody I know
“Neighbor” is holding something in common: like life
“Neighbor” is not limited to humanity: how about
a tree or an antelope or the earth under all
that concrete pavement?
“Neighbor” is a cosmic idea: the cells in my
body and the planets in the universe,
and the person walking toward
you in the grocery store.

Oh, go ahead and choose more than one.  In fact,
choose them all.

You have a good day, neighbor!

May I feel the Breath of Life blowing
across the universe, spinning my
prayers into the farthest
corners of the sacred creation.
Like the wheel adorned with
words of blessing, may I turn
in the strong wind of the Spirit,
releasing showers of gifts upon
all who thirst for truth and
hunger for hope.

May the sky be filled with
offerings of healing and
wholeness and may they
rain down on this parched
planet.  Come, rise up Holy
Wind, fill the universes with
the whirring sounds of prayer
wheels singing to the stars.

When I turn out the light tonight and
snuggle into my bed, I will say to myself:
“Today I lived.”
I will not walk through another day
inattentive to invitations.

Every time I pass the little bookstore on
the boulevard I think:
Someday I want to go in and spend
time getting acquainted with the
lovely fragrance of books.
Someday is today.

My friend is recovering from serious
cardiac problems.  For the past
few days, I’ve had good intentions
about telephoning and letting
her know she is not forgotten.
Today is the day.

Before the sun disappears behind the
jagged mountains, as light fades and
the quiet of evening descends,
I will revisit the wonderful
adventures of the departing
day.  I will examine myself
against the backdrop of the
day’s experiences, and the
remarkable gift of living
these particular hours.
My last prayer before sleep
comes will be expressions of
gratitude for all the encounters
that enriched me and nourished
the self I think I know.

,

Sometimes it’s better not to know.
“…let me know how fleeting my life is.”
That’s the Psalmist’s request in Psalm 39.
Really?  You need a message from God?  Do you have a mirror
at home?  Look around at that circle of friends.  That’s a lot of
gray hair…or absence of.  I had a long look at my hand the
other day.  Looks a bit like the surface of the moon.  No, I
don’t need a revelation, just some reassurance.  And I find
it in the rosebud waiting to bloom.

I used to think of myself as invincible.  Then came vulnerable.
Sometime, when I wasn’t paying attention, the second half of the
game began, and I was mature.  That’s a kind word, isn’t it?
Mature is fine, but eventually it means that you know your
urologist by his first name.  Blooming is wonderful.  To bloom
for even a brief period of time is a mystery made possible by a
Mystery.  It’s only right and natural, though, that the petals
start to curl around the edges, then fall to the ground to
nourish the roots.  How else could the rosebud bloom?
My reassurance about the garden is in all those rosebuds
waiting their turns.

The explosion of their brilliance, far surpassing what we brought
to the garden, gives me practical hope.  You know them.  They
have good minds, good hearts and good souls.  They are just
over our shoulders, waiting.  And they are going to be beautiful.

Let’s just double-down and leave them something
to work with.

I was wandering around Sweetwater Wetlands when, through an
opening in the tall reeds, I saw this little guy taking a swimming
lesson and working on his paddling skills.  He was with Mom and
siblings, about six more, but he was off by himself and quite
unconcerned about a stranger on the bank with a
camera in his hand.  Click and I had him
in my Nikon.
Later in the day, at home in front of my computer while
transferring shots from the camera, I stopped on this
photo and reached for the Delete button.  Too messy,
I thought to myself.  Cluttered.  But for a moment, I
paused and looked with different eyes, eyes not
searching for perfection, but eyes that took in a
growing charm and tenderness.
This young fella is splashing around in the warm
sunshine, learning about life on the pond,
probably unaware of what I called “clutter”,
speckled with little blooms from nearby trees.
It’s not messy for him.  It’s great!
Life is fun.  So what’s the big deal
about perfection?
A pond strewn with little flowers on a
warm Spring morning.
I should have joined him.

May gentle drops of mercy fall on the
dry places of your soul today.

May you feel the tender embrace of goodness
wherever you go.

May peace flow into the depths of your being
and then out of you into the conflicts
and confusions you will encounter.

In spite of what you see or hear, may your
recurring thought be “it is good.”

And when night comes and all is quiet,
look back over the day and be
astonished at the Presence,
unknown in the moment,
that made the journey
with you.