Three were rising

As I returned from walking our little dog, I looked up between the palm trees and saw the vertical line of three stars that announce the coming of winter. They are called the belt of Orion. This group of stars have been my favorite since childhood. I miss seeing them each evening during late spring, summer and fall, only visible in the very early hours of pre-dawn mornings. They are part of Orion the hunter, not the killer or murderer or dominating male, but the symbol of the man who hunts for food and the lively-hood of his family. This mythological figure is fierce, active, energy filled, radiant, fur covered and rich with nutrients for the male identity. He is part of a vast dialogue that reaches back through human history in stories told around the evening fires, to teach children the lessons of adult responsibilities for family and communities. Stories we have forgotten to tell to our children, so that our nation is filled with adolescent/adults who have not been brought through a healthy initiation into maturity. The fierce male, like Orion, is not aggressive, but intensely motivated by an internalized moral compass and a genuine love of people. So with the onset of winter and the birth of the Christ-child, let us remember the fierce, radiant power that comes from being more fully human. Thank you Orion for rising again this year and reminding me of living out my identity with vigor and sensitivity.

As it should be

Branches move with the early evening cooling breeze. The quiet is punctuated by crows squawking on their way back to the river. Seeing them fly allows for thoughts that travel back through days and years seeking landmarks of definitive change or a continuum of building with "sameness." Now that would be a relief-to be content with life built upon the issues of character that reappear at each junction of trials and demands from the "outer" pressures of life. To accept that what I am made of will not change, but, peace with that reality will bring what seems to be change, but rather it is just hearing the birds and feeling the breeze and knowing all is as it should be.

advent of hope

This morning we met in the "Place of Prayer" and read some scripture, sat in silence, listened to the noise around us and the quiet whisperings of God. A story was shared in rememberence of hope found in the love of God for us and during one of the times of silence, I realized how fast the pace I have been living at. It was good to stop and listen and feel the cool breeze on my face, the rough stone beneath me and the renewed sense of anticipation that the Christ will be born. Peace and justice and restoration and hope come with the birth of the messiah, the one who sets us free from our schedules, the unending lists of activities that fill our time. The "to do's" can rob us of the joy of immersing ourselves in this season, this time of celebration, this period of preparation for winter, for gifts given and received, for evenings with family, for taking care of those less fortunate than ourselves. Let us begin this advent season listening to the quiet murmurings of a loving God amidst the noise that often surrounds us.

The space in between

There is a distance between us, a gap that is invisible to the casual observer. The space between two people and the space between two buildings and the space between an artwork and a viewer and the space between an artist and their materials and the space between the physical and the divine and the space between the sensuous stuff of life and the rational intellect of our minds. It is in this place that great questions are formed, philosophy has its way, art of all kinds is birthed and religion finds a home. When we expect an answer that ends the questions we leave the gap and move on. So many do not even know that the gap is waiting for them to be enriched by the struggle for meaning, challenged by the transcendent nature of meeting the other in the space that lies in between.

Letting it in.

How often when we hear of someone's suffering, we throw out a one liner that makes us feel better and then move on as quickly as we can. Feeling the pain of others is an uncomfortable experience. It makes us feel vulnerable and unsettled. I sometimes wonder if we hear and see so much horror on the news that our sensory receptors are dulled. The endless footage of accidents, murders, war and tragedies of all kinds. It is too much to take in, so we practice holding it at bay and enjoy our meal while we continue to watch. The call to feel with someone, to hear their story, to embrace their pain, to be thankful for the rich lives we have as individuals and as a community, that is love. So, let it in, feel deeply with those you share this journey with.

moments...

The moments pass us by, we are too distracted to notice the connection, the person, the event. Those moments lead to other moments that we will never see, because we failed to do the simple task of, "paying attention." It is essential for a life well-lived. Look carefully, see with your eyes wide open, listen to the inner voice of prompting, look for connections. When we experience the moment, it leads to other moments and events and people and an ongoing chain of life-changing interactions that echo into our future. So, be alert, life in the present, calm your mind, be where you are, listen carefully and the moments of meaning will become a lifetime of rich encounters. Remember, pay attention.

Tend to your own

There is something to be said about how clearly we can see what needs to be done in the adjacent yard. Why don't they take care of it? There are weeds, the fence is in need of repair, the trees have not been properly trimmed in years, their leaves are mostly in my yard each Fall, and what about those herbs they planted three years ago, that now have taken over the entire side yard, do they even know how to cook with them? Does any of this sound at all familiar? We have such a clear vision of what others should be doing. Its easy, we spend a good amount of time looking over the fence to see how they are progressing. And when it is pointed out to us what a mess we live in, the excuses that flow off our tongues have been rehearsed so many times we have begun to believe them ourselves. In the letter Paul wrote to some Christians living in or near Thessalonica, he shares three things that speak to this issue of monitoring other's yards. First, he says to mind your own business, second he encourages us to live a quiet life and third, he admonishes us to work with our hands. Pretty clear and simple. Look in our own yards, quietly go about the business of taking care of our own messes, using our hands to work. If only more people would spend more time cleaning up the results of their lack of disciplined garden tending and quietly go about the business of doing the work at hand. What a different world it would be.

questions...

There are those things we want answers to, the ones that make no sense. The events and situations that come into our lives that only happen to others. What do we do when realities crash upon us that leave us without understanding, sometimes without hope. Moments stretch out into an unreal experience that we cannot wake up from. Any nightmare would be better than the pain of living in the reality before us. Tears sting like alcohol, words do not come forth, grief compresses the heart, darkness shadows the brightest of noonday suns. To truly feel the loss, to embrace what is unthinkable, to mourn deeply and honestly, to ever enjoy life again, this is a road less traveled.

Evening

Late in the day, as it begins to cool from the intense August heat, a time of transition begins. New sounds from insects chorus in the shrubs, a breeze flows up the river bed and rustles the palm branches, the light softens. Life is like this, the intensity of difficult times begin to ease up, an awareness of new possibilities enter our thoughts, relief comes like the cooling air of early evening. We need to pay attention, there is so much to see, to hear, to touch, to embrace, to mourn.

Weed and feed

Our souls are at their best when we tend them like a garden. A garden is a living thing, in need of regular attention. The dead leaves need to be raked into the compost area, weeds pulled, soil turned, seeds planted, shrubs trimmed, and fertilizer applied. The best soul fertilizer is the s--t that happens in our lives. When it is turned in with the soil, it is transformed into life-giving nutrients. Why let it stink up our lives when it can be used to make things better. It is empowering to use the hurt, the disappointments, the tragedies and the daily difficulties as the richest fertilizer available for a healthy life. So when things go bad, use it for making the garden of your soul more beautiful. Get a shovel and start today!

Fear of goodness

It is one of those strange, irrational human behaviors. The looking into the rearview mirror, expecting to see the front end of a MAC truck ready to ram into your backside, right when the view in front is breathtaking. More than that, it is a vista sought after for years and finally when the chance to view it arrives, fear of a disaster looms, marring the longed for event. Fear is not so much the problem, but rather the cause for doubting the blessing that lies ahead, and opening up the possibility of self sabotage. We are so often our worst enemy. We seek out what is best and when it comes, we suspect it will be taken away, so we undo the gift in the name of fear. To receive the abundance that comes after years of travail is sometimes more difficult than we can predict. Life is best lived open-handed, ready to give and to receive.

Time and momments

Too many days have slipped away in the connected momments of interaction. Conversations, meals, critiques and lectures have filled the past four weeks. The space to write was lost in the rich personal flood of realationships deepened and new born. This is but a brief window of a momment to reflect on the recent space of time.

Re-enchantment of hope

Art made with a sense of hope provides a potent factor at the deepest levels of an artist's consciousness, since hope radically alters one's inner intention and feeling of purpose. (Gablik, 1991) Now may the God of all hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Letter to the Christians in Rome 15:13) v. to have a wish for something to be true. n. a feeling that something desirable is likely to happen. n (archaic) a feeling of trust.

As people of faith, we have hope in the Divine, we have hope in the power of goodness, we have hope in the positive transformation of people's lives, we have hope in a beter future and a more fulfilled present.

As artists, we have hope that our work will make a difference, we have hope that the time in our studios brings honor to the God we serve, we have hope that the success we experience rests in the hands of someone greater than ourselves, we have hope that a life spent in service to the materials and people of art is of value.

Hope.

Blindness in the midst

It was at the end a very difficult day that clarity struck with a vengeance. The moment when the day could have shifted out of hyperdrive and into a calm flow of work that both invigorated and "made a difference." The light shown upon the email like it was radiant with warning and advice. The words spoke of acceptance and embracing the results of the machine of command that grinds onward in spite of what may be right or fair. The bigger picture of institutional culture moves forward like a steam roller over voices of quiet and distressed concern. Taking a deep breadth of remorse and planning out next steps focused on the larger engagement of interactions brings some relief from the blindness. Seeing clearly allows for a different future and a letting go of the past, not in defeat, but rather with a learned understanding of the signs to look for right before the bicycle leans too far and the ground sweeps up to meet me.

Soul restoration

Fixing things up, repairing the damage, bringing it back to life, this is the work of restoration. How do you go about restoring the soul? The heart of our spirit is like a walled secret garden in need of our attention. Vines grow wild, flower beds are filled with weeds, the path is strewn with the leaf litter of many seasons. Where do you start? Clean up is a way into the work, a little raking here and sweeping there, pull a weed or two, find the beautiful stonework beneath the overgrowth. Each action fuels the next. Discoveries of forgotten toys, lost in childhood and benches uncovered with views of the sky reappearing. Pathways are cleared and patterns re-emerge. Our soul is a place of refuge as boundary walls and gates protect us from unwanted intrusions. A well-tended garden anchors us in the midst of life's chaos.

Clay under my fingernails

It is only when my hands touch clay that my mind is quiet. The voices of the day, the week, the year, those that seem to never stop echoing down from a distant past, go still. They all recede to a level I cannot hear and with permanent hearing damage, that is not so far as I would like. And in that absence of verbal assault, I can think, I can rest, I can become one with an earthen material of ancient origin. It is not unlike sleep, but in the studio, I get to experience life without the need for dreams. I become the dream, the soft rise of inspiration from the unconscious layers of my mind, embedded with the spirit. I have no dealines, no emails, no demands of time or appointments. Life is rich and full in a timeless state of connection with the matertial and the divine.

Breaking the dam

A name, a sound, a texture seen in a light cast by a late afternoon sun. These are what it takes. The unexpected, the moment of insight after scales have fallen with the dried mud made from spittle and dust. Yes, I have been blind these past few months, unable to see words worth writing, thoughts worth sharing, ideas worth investigating. For a reason unknown to me, I had to write today, tonight, I cannot sleep until I find new words, new phrases, new reasons to take the time to shape the invisible language of thoughts. A smell not easily indentified, waifs through the open door to the upper porch. The moon has not yet risen, the heat lingers from the new summer. There is a kind of simple release in the connecting of words. It is a way of health, a path down which I have not traveled in many weeks. I feel the damage from negligence, from ignoring the pain, from the damed up silence leaking through the cracked reservoir. It is like tears falling in rain, unnoticed in the flood, but stinging like alchohol as they squeeze out from under closed lids. Unseen: the way of sadness. A new sculpture finishing in the studio, the head upturned, blackened nose and mouth with its stain running down to the chest. The ladder made of damaged branches tied with twine not strong enough to hold. A piece of the lingering sadness that moves at the deepest levels of the unconscience. At the still point of the turning world, there the dance is. Ever still and in stillness ever moving. The way.

A nestled soul

So as I sifted through these thoughts and pondered on the possibility of praying without ceasing, I think I begin to see some light in the process. The three ways of praying with three ways of positioning ourselves in God open a way to a different kind of life. We pray to God, we set our will to God and we give our wishes to God. Now these sound like so many other prayer talks, but the other three ways have a newness to me that is worth exploring.

“Motion towards” – To me this implies the forward motion of our lives in primarily the physical world. This is our getting up and going to work and playing in the park and reading a good book and researching a beloved topic and pursuing the life we are called to live here on this earth. This is a part of praying without ceasing, living out our lives in a continual movement towards God in the life He has laid out before us, not written in stone but a life to be discovered in the simple and the complex aspects of life.

“Accession to” – This is the upward call of Christ to be ever mindful of the spiritual realities that permeate our time here on earth. To be aware of the majesty, the power, the overarching immensity of God, and the multidimensionality of God. This is a mindset, an orientation of our lives that acknowledges our finitude and dependence on a power greater than us. It is a wordless awareness that our lives are not ours, but bought at a great price in love.

“Nearness at” – This phrase made me think that a God that is intimate, near us, is so much more than a distant God of power and might. This aspect of praying without ceasing is the closeness of God through the Holy Spirit, connecting with us at the deepest level of our souls. It is an intersection that words do not easily define. It is the life of God within us, nourishing us, encouraging us, protecting us, holding us, it is those ongoing prayers that have no words yet speak in great volumes through our souls.

So, in my simple love of words, for me, I have found the possibility of praying with out ceasing, setting my life, orientating my mind and nestling my soul in a life devoted to serving the God we name as Lord.

The endless voice from within

“Pray Without Ceasing” I Thessalonians 5:17
This little phrase is key to a life lived in simple communion with God. For most of my Christian experience, I found it an impossible concept to consider a reality to be lived. I saw prayer as an active, usually verbal articulation of concerns, requests, etc. In recent months, I have sought to unpack what these words might mean and if they could be lived out.
I am not a trained theologian but I am passionate about words and the meanings within them, so with a Vines Bible Dictionary and a Strong’s Concordance, I search for indicators as to what these words might mean.
I found the word “pray” in this case to be the word proseuchomal. It means simply “to pray to God.” But upon further looking into the two parts of the word, I found some interesting results:
Pros – Has three ways of being used, “motion towards”, “accession to”, and “nearness at”.
Euchomal – Also has three ways, “to wish”, “to will”, and “to pray”.
The next two words, “without ceasing’ seem to be found in one word, adialeiptos. What is fascinating about this word is that it means, “that which is constantly recurring”. It specifically does not imply something that does not have interruption but rather it is referring to something that is ongoing and implies a regenerative experience.

The cloudy glass

A look into a fogged mirror and you can barely discern yourself, muted colors and indistinct shapes are what look back through the condensation. How dim the future when we envision what is to come. The shapes are hardly recognizable and the colors are difficult to indentify. Sure we set goals, create action steps, analyze time commitments and make our plans in one and five year increments. How about the shape of our hearts, what do we want to believe in, in five years, what will the interior landscape of our souls become. What will our soul gardens look like further on this journey: shade trees grown huge, ponds teeming with life, fruit weighing down branches, ripe for picking. The reflection seen dimly is one looked at on the outside, the inner journey is much clearer and does not require a reflective surface, but rather an unobstructed connection to the core of our being.

Submerged

It is in the darkness that we find our true character. When the light has dimmed, we face ourselves, without the visual clutter of identity trappings we have purchased. The lightless times are gifts for us to reconsider our lives: where we are, where we are going, where we have come from, who we are, who we want to become, what we have been. It is not surprising that Jonah and Jesus spend three days in darkness, one in the belly of a fish, the other in the belly of death. Both get spat back out into life. Jonah is our point up to Jesus, and both are reminders that we all go through submerged times when light has failed and we cry out our anguish and come face to face with our deepest fears. Easter is a yearly reminder of life after the darkened tunnel. Spring glows with new life after the barren winter, green bursts forth from seemingly dead branches, blossoms adorn tree and plant. It is good to be reminded of the growth that comes from our winters, to assure us again that the dark cold always ends and a new season greets us with such potential.

Eve of the Palm

Thunder clouds rolled in and dropped their wet load over the city, just after sunset. An ominous reminder of the beginning of Holy Week. Darkness, cold and suffering are essential elements of life, before hope can be rejoiced in. How often, we dream of the monotony of paradise: blue water, white beaches and palm branches waving in a gentle breeze. Palm branches are meant to be waved this wekend, but not as a sign of the absence of stress but as the triumphal entry into Jerusalem and victory over death. Yes, the beach is an important place for the restoration of our soul, but Jerusalem is where the test of our faith will be played out when the crowd recognizes us as one of his followers. What shall we say? We waved the palm branch wildly in anticipation of sharing in the victory, but the reality of following in his path requires embracing the thunder clouds of life.

A River Within

A river is a beautiful visual picture of life. The rush of the water as it foams around rocks and drops over ledges in torrents of beauty. The motion slows when wider banks give it girth to meander through the lowlands. Traveling at a slower speed that allows for looking up at the overhanging trees and the cloudless sky on a lazy afternoon in mid summer. Ah, this is what the heart needs, a bit of slowing down, a time to look up and find out what color the sky is today, a chance to see what birds are winging through the branches of green-leafed trees, a closing of the eyes to hear the gurgling of the water agasinst the sides of the boat. To see life as upon a river, to see a river flowing within, to connect to life in all its mystery and wonder, that is what today should hold.

A Deep Place of Contentment

What I have discovered is that the stillness is in my soul. It is a deep place of contentment in the path set before me and I walk it with confidence in the direction that has been set. It does not mean I do not stumble and fall, that is the way of life, it is the getting up and continuing that we are measured by. The stillness and knowing operate at a soul level that creates a foundation for the activeness of my life.

The “be-ing” is a way of viewing myself as a part of the new humanity that Christ calls us to live in and as. We are part of the kingdom of God, a group of people that live to see others operate in new found peace and vitality to pursue their dreams. Becoming a human being rather than merely a human doing is essential for our growth and well being. The doing is not the problem in itself but doing without being is empty of life-giving power. George Bernard Shaw gives us a wonderful sense of how to live fully being and fully doing.

"This is the true joy in life, The being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a great one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievance complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."

Shaw gives us the four “beings” of life. These are the four “be’s” of being still and being empowered to fully life out our callings.
1. “Being used for a purpose”-when we are still before God, we are affirmed in our purpose in life. He communes with us to give us strength and direction.
2. “Being used for a great purpose”-seeing ourselves as part of Christ’s new humanity, we are involved in greatness as we follow Him.
3. “Being thoroughly worn out by the end”-we need to run the race with all we have, using the resources that we are given to act upon the call we have received.
4. “Being a force of nature”-the stillness of God is not passive, but powerfully connected to the creative forces that shaped our universe, our world and the transformation of our souls.

So it is with confidence that I share a part of my journey with you, that God will reveal his call upon your life and empower you to walk in the way he has set before you. Be still and know that you are an essential part of the creative work of God on the earth.

Wrestling with this notion

All of my adult life I have wrestled with this notion that we should be “still” before the Lord. When I am still, I fall asleep because I have been doing so much that exhaustion takes over when ever I stop. I have sought out much advice from those more mature in the faith and usually have received the comment that I am doing too much and should lighten the load I carry, and then I would be able to find stillness in the Lord. As you probably know, that has not been the answer that I have found for my life.

The following is a brief look at how I have come to terms with the energy level I have, the vision that drives me and the way I have found stillness in my life. I used to be accused of having multiple adrenaline glands and how unfair that is to others that move more slowly. I find that rather than comparing ourselves to others. We need to seek out what it is that God has called us to do and use whatever resources available to us to accomplish it. I have been gifted (and cursed, if you watch MONK on USA) with an active mind, where ideas never cease and the will to see them actualized. I have patience to pursue them over many years and the endurance to weather much criticism. When I finally stopped listening to advice that was contrary to how God has made me, I have found much peace.

In the cool of the day

It is no wonder that we crave the quietness of a garden. The air is filled with the scents of blossoms and the colors are a delight to our eyes. The mixture of light and shade, the arrangement of the plantings, the texture of the air, it is healing to our souls. A place of refuge, walled off, gated and closed except to the few we trust to linger with us for a brief time. We can be honest in our gardens, we choose what voices to listen to and we accept our limitations. The abundance of our failures makes for great fertilizer. As we forgive ourselves and others, the nutriants from the release fill our soil with potential for new growth. The seasons allow us to bloom with intensity, endure the heat of summer, let go of much in Autumn and rest deeply in the barren cold of winter. The garden becomes a rich metaphor for the wholeness of our souls we so desparately desire.

Word power

"In the beginning Elohim bara(ed)". A simple phrase. Like all stories, they tend to start at the beginning. And in that part of this story, God created (but the word for God here is plural). So what does it mean for there to be a plural God creating? The creative act has many elements: the idea, the editing, the material choices, the "hands on" activity, the critique, the reworking, the stepping back and evaluating the progress, the interaction with the work, and the final "it is finished" and then the resting after the work. Is this the pluralistic work of a mutifaceted God? The word bara, implies intense or loud creative power. The sound comes up from the diaphram with strength, latent with expectation. And then this multi-dimensional being is interested in joining with us in our creativity. Let us bara with Elohim.

Sap and cells

Recently I was admiring some trees due to the beautiful blossoms that adorned their branches. One tree in particular looked almost dead except for these brilliant yellow trumpet shaped flowers.

It struck me how easily we judge what is visible without knowing what lies under the surface. What looked to be a tree in its death throws was in fact, a tree preparing to give us an incredible visual treat.

I think people are like that, they do not always show what is being prepared inside. The sap is moving and cells are lining up for new growth of which there is no apparent clue of what is to come. This is faith in what is not seen, hope for what has been promised. Do we have the faith to trust in the work of our God below the surface, unseen, unknown, preparing to burst forth in due season?

What defines us?

As I have been contemplating shadows this week, I was struck by the awareness that without shadows we lose our defining visual realities. Imagine a simple line drawing of a smiley face, now think of a black and white photograph of someone's face. What is the difference? Both have rounded outer edges, a nose, eyes, and mouth, but the photograph has value, in art that means gradation of black to grays to white. It is this shadowing that shows the textural structure of our faces, the distinguishing shapes that allow us to identify each other. We move from generic cartoon images to idividuals with unique features that encase our personhood. It is the tension between light and shadow that brings out the humanity we all share in. The same basic elements in diverse arrangements, exposed by the light and defined by the areas of shadow.

Happy Birthday Dad

On January 11, 1920, Thomas Catling was born. He was raised in rural central California, he grew up on horseback-as comfortable in the saddle as behind the wheel of his truck, he served as a Marine in WWII, he operated cranes that built some of the most amazing buildings in downtown San Francisco, he died in May of 1984, he was my father. He now rests in the arms of Christ and I am thankful for all he gave me.

The color of gray

Like the expectations of grade-school teachers, (such as: trees are brown and leaves are green, sky is blue, apples are red and so forth) we have been taught that shadows are gray. A cast shadow is caused by the blocking of the most direct rays of light. The graying effect is from the indirect light that is present within the shadowed area. Without light, there are no shadows, only absolute blackness. So the shadow is filled with light at a lesser intensity than the areas in direct path of the light source, allowing them to be the color of the surface the shadow is resting on, only muted by the blocking object. The shadow becomes the blending of the (often distorted) shape of the object casting the shadow and the color, texture and shape of the surface that catches the shadow. So the shadow is a blend of diferent "things." Just like God is plural, (not referencing the trinity, but the Genesis use of the word we translate as God) Elohim, which conotates the multidimensionality of God. He is the light source, he is found in the things that catch the light and in the shadows that blend the object, the light and the surface holding the shadow. Shadows show us the complexity of the simple, the profound of the obvious and the richness of the visual world we so often neglect to carefully observe.

Peter Pan Shadows

Late in the evening, darker gray shapes follow our every move. Starting out long and stretched from heel towards the edge of the lamp light, they shrink as we approach the light post and spring ahead when we pass. They appear to have limbs and a torso and head, but the shapes are more alien than human. How does one identify the source as it changes and distorts? What are these shadows that follow us through our lives? Bonded by the dark and the light, we dance through time casting shadow puppets in our wake.

Orion Rising

I look forward to seeing Orion each Fall. The first night it rises lifts my spirits. My earliest childhood memories of looking up at the night sky contain the three stars of his belt. It is not an accident that seasons change, that temperatures drop and rain begins. We are meant to shift our focus as the year progresses. Fall leads to the introspection of winter and the quietness of cloud filled afternoons. Tonight, Orion is mid sky, commanding the center of the night, leading my thoughts to the new year and the chance to do "things" different this time. To think more carefully, listen with greater attention, walk more slowly, drive with care, hold onto the joy of living in the face of pain and sorrow. To move through to the other side of silence.