It occurs to me…

Photo taken in Galveston a few months back. Text from Mary Oliver

Photo taken in Galveston a few months back. Emerson channeled through Mary Oliver.

C. S. Lewis’ writing on the subject of pride has always stood out to me, but he has a rival in Howard Thurman. From Thurman:

“Pride and arrogance are always with us seeking to exert their pernicious influence in what we say and how we say it, in what we do and how we do it.  No one of us escapes.  Often we find ourselves most completely influenced by pride when surest that we are most self-effacing and humble.  For the subtlest pose is that of humility and apparent willingness to be considered least of all.”

That last sentence is a masterful use of words, so piercing, so convicting – “For the subtlest pose is that of humility and apparent willingness to be considered least of all.” 

___

Now, a less serious addendum that speaks to how my mind works, or doesn’t:

That said, Lewis and Thurman get a run for their money from the great Austin Lounge Lizards and these lines from their classic, Another Stupid Song About Texas:

“By God we’re so darn proud to be from Texas

Even of our pride we’re proud, and we’re proud of that pride, too

Our pride about our home state  is the proudest pride indeed

And we’re proud to be Americans, until we can secede.”

From C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, this to think on:

“…so we shall then first be true persons when we have suffered ourselves to be fitted into our places.”

Still chewing on that thought.

Provide your own haiku to me for this photo — 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables — and I’ll put them on the photo and post them here.

A zinger today from Howard Thurman:

“It is exceedingly difficult to keep from encouraging in oneself that which one condemns in other people.  Vices are apt to take on the halo of virtues when they are part of one’s own behavior, but seen in others they are regarded as being what in truth they are….  What I would consider a pose or pretense in my neighbor is apt to be called genuine when I do it.”

Arrghhh.  Just when I was starting to feel comfortable around mirrors!

This poem/prayer from Mary Oliver

Thirst

“Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have.  I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons.  Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time.  Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart.  Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.”

Regarding the first line, the request to – “wake the thirst for goodness I do not have.”  I might quibble a bit with that and suggest that the “thirst for goodness,” though perhaps latent, is always there, but perhaps that is wishful thinking. Yet what stays with me most, beyond the prayerful nature of this selection, is that last sentence:

 “Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.”

“Who knows what will finally happen…pack nothing….I am slowly learning.” Indeed!

Much is written on the subject of prayer, but I am not sure it is explained anywhere any better than these  words from Mary Oliver’s Praying:

It doesn’t have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones, just

pay attention, then patch

a few words together, and don’t try

to make them elaborate, this isn’t

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and silence in which

another voice may speak.

Those nine words pretty much cover it.  Prayer = “thanks, and silence in which another voice may speak.”

A “from the front door” view of the front yard fountain that also serves as a stage, bath and watering hole for the birds — particularly the noisy grackles.

Reading Howard Thurman’s Deep Is The Hunger today in which he discusses forgiveness, I am reminded of the C. S. Lewis quote: “Everyone thinks forgiveness is a good idea, until he has to give it.” Thurman provides insight as to why that is true — why forgiveness can be so difficult. First, he notes: “Every person stands in need of forgiveness.” Forgiveness is a universal need that is indifferent to race, gender, or age, or any other classification you want to toss into the ring. That being so, unlike so much else in life, we all, by personal experience, understand the significance of forgiveness. When we start walking in the field of forgiveness, we know the stakes or high. Thurman identifies the heart of the difficulty: “forgiveness is possible between two persons only when the offender is able to stand inside of the harm he has done and look at himself as if he were the other person.” There it is — forgiveness is difficult because it calls upon the offender (let’s say, hypothetically, me) to understand, and to some extent suffer, the very wrong inflicted on the offended. Who wants to do that? Which is, I guess, the underpinning of Thurman’s last sentence on this: “There is scarcely a greater test of character than forgiveness.”