On third (and last) thought...

...because I think this is the longest post I've ever posted, and because I don't think I have any more thoughts in me tonight!

In the expression of life's journey, Kahlil Gibran may be the best philosopher I've ever encountered. I know most people would say he's more of a poet than a philosopher, but I think poets like Kahlil Gibran and Langston Hughes make the best philosophers.

In his best known work The Prophet, here is what Gibran says "on pain."

And what about Langston on pain? Langston, my Langston. You say it better than anybody:

"Though you may hear me holler,

And you may see me cry--

I'll be dogged, sweet baby,

If you gonna see me die."

Millstone

Today I got really mad. I don't feel it would be appropriate to discuss why I was mad in this public forum, but suffice it to say, I flipped out a little bit both inside of and outside of my head.

And I have to say, that usually when I get mad, my reaction is about 1% righteous, and 99% lack of patience, temperance, and compassion. Usually, I am just a control-freak perfectionist who wants her way and wants it now. This time, I'd say that there was more like a 50/50 split between mad because I'm a fireball and mad because there was no other choice under the circumstances. It is the closest I have felt since I can remember to truly justifiable indignation.

I am a big fan of the loving God who forgives us for how we've wronged others and who never gives up on us. Like alot of people, I used to really hate how Jesus is portrayed going into the temple with a whip and driving the money changers out of the sacred space. And I never will give up the conviction that "God desires mercy, not sacrifice," so that we should not ever fall out of God's grace, no matter who we are, what we do, what we think, how we act or what we believe. I see God never sacrificing a bit of creation when, instead, God's mercy can restore all things.

But today when I was mad, I thought of this:

The disciples came to Jesus asking, "Who gets the highest rank in God's kingdom?"

For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said..."Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom. What's more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it's the same as receiving me. But if you give them a hard time, bullying or taking advantage of their simple trust, you'll soon wish you hadn't. You'd be better off dropped in the middle of the lake with a millstone around your neck."

...And it made me feel better. Not better because I want the object of my anger to drown. Better because Christ's hyperbolic analogy tells me that when we aim to harm the innocent and weak, or use them as a means to our own ends, we end up destroying ourselves.

This is a hard truth, that ultimately, what we do to one another is both a direct reflection on how we value others, their creator and ourselves. As angry and sad as I was (and am), this harsh reality started to point me back toward a direction where I was reminded that trying to get the most out of others for ourselves leads to the loss of our respect, dignity and morality. Trying to get the most for others through ourselves, on the other hand...

I think there will be forgiveness for all of this. I know I am moving on from my mini-fury session to a process of forgiveness, because that's how my life is best lived. But because life keeps happening, I know there will be more dissapointment, and more millstones we'll be tempted to fasten around our own necks. We're too valuable to weigh ourselves down. We're made valuable so that we might lift others up.

On second thought

I know I won't have time to write a longer post today - it is a full steam ahead work week this week.

But with that in mind, here's another thought - not my own - to add to the "purpose of pain" discussion I posted here earlier.

From a good, snarky thinker too!

"A lifetime of happiness! No man alive could bear it; it would be hell on earth." ~ George Bernard Shaw

Newsies

After investing a good portion of my evening last night, my morning today and some pool time to catching up on world news and current news, I believe I have to conclude that the best news out there is:

The Muppets are making another movie. Perhaps the worst news is that there is no better news?

Ah, well, I'm still very excited.

Happy Sunday and Father's Day!

Pain and Glory

As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned that he was born blind?" Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him." John 9: 1-3

I read this passage today within an anthology of teachings by a yoga guru. The guru then went on to claim that Jesus did not mean what Jesus said - that the man was born blind "that the works of God might be displayed." The guru insisted instead that the sin of past reincarnations created the disability. He claimed an all compassionate God would not put pain upon a person who did not deserve it.

This must make sense from the perspective of the guru, but I must disagree - from my own point of view, which is woefully, and obviously, devoid of guru credientials.

You see, I do think that a compassionate God allows all kinds of pain to exist in our lives, even the kind of pain that is not "our fault." I also think God knows that these situations hurt us - in any manner of ways - and that we so often view these circumstances as bad, unforunate, and undeserved.

I reconcile a loving God with a God who would knowingly allow us to be hurt. Why?

I suppose it's because I see no reason why we should somehow win the lottery on a trouble-free life, free from pain, numb from worry, and devoid of challenge. I view troubles and tests as, in a non-self-help way, opportunities to build character, develop empathy, take responsibility, and become more deeply aware of our blessings.

For instance, I have a headache right now, and it's a pain, but it's also an opportunity to make sure I've had enough water to drink today (in case it's been caused by dehydration) and a chance to practice being cheerful and good to others in the absence of an absolutely ideal scenario...because, really, when is it ever all absolutely ideal?

It was not ideal for my grandmother to have to teach herself to walk again, nor is it ideal for my mother to have to teach my kindey to get along with her body, but these are pains that will live as legacies of courage and as affirmations of life for generations in my family. They display how God is greater than pain, greater than anything that would try to destroy us, because God is still with us in the pain and God will help us overcome it.
So I think too that, yes, when we feel in life, pain or joy, this provides us with a unique opportunity to interact with God, to allow God to walk with us in good times and bad, so that we depend on God when we cannot on ourselves, and we give credit to God when it is not our own to claim.

I am not sure how I would feel as the blind man who could suddenly see after Jesus healed him. I do not know if I would feel ripped off or honored to be such a character placed in that role. I do know though, that my personal pains and weaknesses make me human, so that I can relate to others. I do know that they remind me how fragile and dynamic and beautiful life is. I know they encourage me to assess if I am taking  care of myself, as a steward of a body, mind and soul - gifts given to me and not inventions of my own. I know that if I never knew pain, I would never know its opposite.

Most importantly, I know that I do not know all that God is up to. I respect that I can not reason or predict or instinctually tune into the exact way that a perfect God loves us perfectly. I just know - through it all - the love is there for all of us.

Making the most

It's been a weird spring so far. Most days have been cold. Some days have been hot.

Then there are days like today, where the clouds threaten the sky for a moment, and it seems like the sun is fighting back.

We try not to be lame and stay indoors on days such as this, even if they aren't perfect for the pool (not hot and sunny enough) or a real hike (not consistently cool enough). This means a walk around the pond.

Of note today, a group of evil Canadian geese attacked swimmers at the pond! I am telling you, those animales are vicious!! We were just walking by, enjoying the families all around us and they good time they were having, and then - bam! - there are these bomb shelter sirens going off all around the pond area, and the lifeguards are assembling in a group. Then we see it - a line of geese descending within the roped off area of the pond that is intended for people-swim only. They seriously looked like an armada as kids and grandparents and everyone in between ran out of the water away from them. And the lifeguards, ha ha, just lined up in the water and faced them. I don't know what their tactic was to be (a not-so-friendly game of red rover or battleship, perhaps?), but I hope it worked. We did our loop around the pond and did not stay to find out.

What do you do to make the most of weird weather days during your weekend? I feel like being outside is key, but in the midst of crazy clouds and rabid geese, one has to be crafty...

Happy trails to you

Yesterday was day 2 of 3, during the first week of 16, of half marathon training. Tomorrow I do my first 4 miler.

I've decided that to start off, I'd like to run my 30 minute runs outside, and my paced runs - where I count how many miles I go - on the treadmill for now.

This means strategy and routine, which has never really been my strong suit, in order to find an appropriate place to run for at least 30 minutes before it even starts to think about getting dark.

Of course, I bet you know where I seek out a running trail – The Blue Hills. This week, I ran around Houghton's Pond for my first 30 minutes and was going to go there again yesterday, until my routine eluded me.

It was already late (because I got to work late), so I needed to start boiling some potatoes prior to the run. Or so claimed S, who was feigning starvation at that point.

So in slight desperation – I really wanted to run outside because it was humid and a great atmosphere to prepare for Orlando – I decided to take this route:

I hope you are thinking – this route must be gorgeous. Because it is. Houghton's Pond is fantastic, but Ponkapoag Pond (and adjacent bog) is breathtaking. You run through a wooded area, past a sunny beach, all on horse trails, and then – boom! – right beside you is this gleaming pond, too wide to see across, with little toads croaking all around you and bog land up ahead. It is the reward and the end of the little tunnel of trees and tiny pathways to get there.

But first, to get to the trees to get to the bog, there is street. As in the street I drive to work on. As in scary.

You see, I would never bike on the road. I secretly (oops!) hate bikers, even (especially) the good ones,
who ride on the side of a major road and beg you not to hit them. They terrify me. Maybe I should rephrase though – I love bikers as people, and I consequently do not want to hit them with my car. So therefore, instead, I hate that there are never enough bike lanes, and when they exist, I always think they should be 3 times wider (at least) than they are.

But I digress. To get to the beautiful pond, I have to run on the scary street, down the tree lined path, past the beach, to the bog.

The good news about all this is: 1) pretty pond, 2) discipline, 3) courage, 4) encroaching if not imminent empathy for bikers.