I am not sure whether to be amused by this anonymous prayer I ran across, or take it seriously – perhaps both:
Thank God for dirty dishes, they have a tale to tell,
While other folks go hungry, we’re eating pretty well.
With home and health and happiness, we shouldn’t want to fuss;
For by this stack of evidence, God’s very good to us. Amen.
Live each day assured by the certainty that the blessings are too many to count and the troubles too few to worry too much about.
These days I find myself going back a lot to The Guest House, the Coleman Barks translation of a writing by Rumi.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
It is difficult to think of myself as an innkeeper whose house/life is open to anyone, anything. After all, I am the owner; I’m in charge here, aren’t I? This is my place, my routine, my life. Don’t I get to pick my guests? It is more difficult to entertain the thought that I am to “welcome and entertain them all.” I mean it is bad enough that they (whoever or whatever “they” are) just showed up unannounced and uninvited, but now they are imposing on me and what I had planned. But most difficult of all is the thought that I am to be grateful for the interruption and inconvenience. Grateful?
But of course the twist here is that whether I recognize it or not I am a one of “them,” a “they.” And while you’d never know it from my incessant whining, I am a “guest” as much or more than I am the “homeowner.” I mean the population of this earth, with one trifling exception, is made up of others. What occurs to me here as somewhat of a sequel to The Guest House is this from Robert Louis Stevenson:
“Wherever we are, it is but a stage on the way to somewhere else, and whatever we do, however well we do it, it is only a preparation to do something else that shall be different.”
Which is of course where the “guests” come into play. They are my guides to the somewhere or something else — if I let them be.
Photo taken a few years back in the San Juan Islands. Timeless text.
Zoom.* We think of language at this huge behemoth that changes at glacial speed, but it occurs to me today how quickly lexicon can change. A year ago, less for most, “zoom” meant to go fast or to focus in. Today, “Zoom” means to hold a videoconference. And as I have had more and more Zoom experiences in the past month the same question rises in my mind that occurs each time I witness (and in some cases, experience) the rise (and sometimes fall – remember MySpace?) of every such software program that comes along (think Facebook, Instagram Pinterest…) – these are indeed methods of communication, but are they ways we will, in a true sense, connect?
The answer, of course, is that “it depends.” It depends on the nature of the communication and whether it rises to the level that allows people to connect in something more than an electronic sense, more than a superficial, “drive by” sense. Two tin cans and a string provide a method of communication and can provide a connection between two (but only two, I guess) people. Zoom can facilitate communication among many more. I suppose the question of whether it facilitates connections between and among people is up to us.
* Note that on my first Zoom experience I was so impressed by the Zoom technology and its ability to facilitate business communication that I bought a membership and bought stock in the company. This post should not be interpreted to promote my financial self-interest — no way!
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” 2 Cor. 4:16
Indeed it is. It occurs to me that this renewal occurs organically, whether I want it to or not. My choices are whether I want to step in and help, if so, how.
“[M]an can neither make nor retain one moment of time; it all comes to him by pure gift; he might as well regard the sun and moon as his chattels.” C. S. Lewis – The Screwtape Letters
Lewis is, of course, correct. I don’t own or control time – damn it!
Photo taken on UT campus. I run by these from time to time.
The word “hope” seems to be experiencing a revival these days. Thinking on that this morning these two quotes came to mind:
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” 2 Cor. 4:16
“This is another day, O Lord. I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be.” In the Morning – Book of Common Prayer
I have always liked the Book of Common Prayer passage, particularly for the versatility of the “This is another day, O Lord” part. Some days I say the “O Lord” in a prayerful way; on other days it comes out more as a statement of exasperation and dread. – “Oh Lord!” It is particularly in those latter “O Lord!” days that I need to be reminded that while the “outer self” may, as I see it be “wasting away,” when it looks like things are really turning to (or already are) #%*!, I need that belief/hope that the “inner self is being renewed day by day.”
“So we do not lose heart.”
Photo of my home office desk.
It occurs to me... 