Ahhhhh - gotcha, didn't I? Those of you who know me, the title probably surprised you - I'm not a big fan of preaching religion, and for those of you who don't, well, the word "faith" here isn't likely what you're thinking. There's enough folks out there with very loud opinions about the role of religion in the United States and what it should and shouldn't do, where it should and shouldn't be, what we will and won't tolerate, etc., etc., so I'm leaving that to them.
I'm talking about faith in people. Faith in each other. Faith as trust.
Who can we trust today? Our moms? Dads? Our children? For the most part, I hope so - but we've all been privy to the horror stories of blood on blood disasters, and many have been on the receiving end of crushing blows of disappointment, when that one relative, who we always thought would be there for us, suddenly wasn't...by choice. So that's certainly not a gimme.
Stories of corruption ranging from the expected (politicians) to the shocking (our teachers, caregivers, and clergy) continue to pelt us day in and day out as the ever growing newsfeeds bombard us with these tragedies. And there seems to be no end in sight.
Then there's the business of business, the daily transactions of our culture. Do you trust your service professionals? Do you have faith that salesmen are getting you the best deal at a fair price? Do you believe that people take such pride in their work that they are willing to guarantee their product/service? Do you think that thing you bought the other day will last until next year, much less a lifetime?
I don't.
And that saddens me.
Products deliberately made to be broken and replaced. Services rendered to engender repeat business (and not because they did such a good job the first time). Promises made and not kept, and remade prettier, but vaguer, emptier.
I'd like to think there was a time when you could. And once in a while, we stumble across a rare gem, a shimmer from a bygone era...where a handshake meant something. And someone's word was his/her bond. When people took pride in what they did, what they made, and each transaction was a labor of love and they and you were able to benefit from that.
But how often does that happen anymore? Greed has become so pervasisve in the American culture that there's almost no room left for honor.
So where do we go from here? Less government? Let the wolves in and few will survive. More government? We become sitting ducks to be taken advantage of.
The only way any of this will work is to restore our faith in each other. To love one another. To care about each other and the collective well-being. To learn to see beyond ourselves and our front door. To be willing to cross the street and be confident that when you get there you'll be okay and be welcomed. To be able to believe that anyone is telling us the truth. To hold people accountable for their words, for their actions. To not follow blindly because of style, but to press on for substance. To stop shouting and start listening. To be willing to help, to lend a hand. To keep our minds open to all the possibilities.
Figure that out, and you've got my vote.
Monday, October 08, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Gone, but not forgotten.
For the past 10 years I have walked a path...an actual path, from my home, through the woods, across a wooden bridge, around a lake, and back. Before I came to that path, a young tree had been uprooted, to make way for the paved trail. It's vulgar, yet fascinating root skirt upended, taller than I am, and certainly taller than my then toddler son who would stare and point at the parts of the tree he wasn't intended to see. And with each year he grew taller and was able to see parts of the tapestry he couldn't before.
And then my daughter followed him. At first she was a bit frightened, the skirt looming over her, casting a wide shadow...but then she would see the flecks of light that shone through, and would flit from glowing spot to glowing spot, like a kitten. And then she grew, and would bring to our attention different arrangements of various fungi and lichen that had made themselves comfortable.
Once in a while, I would glance over at the trunk, stretched out on the ground, pointing deeper into the forest. I noticed it slowly changing, playing host to homeless creatures, and providing sustenance to others, acting a base for new plantlife sprouting fresh green.
Over the years, I would frequent the path less and less, discovering new routes, some on the paved trails, others off through more uncharted territory. Sometimes they were shorter, other times longer, but always, they would bring me home.
Today, I walked that original path for the first time in many, many months. I stopped where the tree used to be. At least, I thought I did. I walked a bit further, thinking I was mistaken, but then retraced my steps, recognizing the curve in the trail, and the old live oak across the way. The tree was gone. Completely and utterly gone without a trace. Gone was the once vast root skirt, that was once wider than my arms could stretch. Gone was the trunk, the branches...without a trace. Back to terra mater, after having reached once to the sky to enjoy the sunlight. Back to the earth, and though brought down to soon, provided years of home and hearth for countless other creatures.
It will never really be gone, though we can no longer see it or touch it. Gone from our immediate senses, yes, but firmly rooted as a memory. It's energy dispersed into so many other forms, in the earth, in the water of the creek nearby, in the air.
I may need to walk a different path tomorrow. But maybe not. We'll see where the wind takes me, and if it's back the same way, I will be sure to smile when I take that turn...
And then my daughter followed him. At first she was a bit frightened, the skirt looming over her, casting a wide shadow...but then she would see the flecks of light that shone through, and would flit from glowing spot to glowing spot, like a kitten. And then she grew, and would bring to our attention different arrangements of various fungi and lichen that had made themselves comfortable.
Once in a while, I would glance over at the trunk, stretched out on the ground, pointing deeper into the forest. I noticed it slowly changing, playing host to homeless creatures, and providing sustenance to others, acting a base for new plantlife sprouting fresh green.
Over the years, I would frequent the path less and less, discovering new routes, some on the paved trails, others off through more uncharted territory. Sometimes they were shorter, other times longer, but always, they would bring me home.
Today, I walked that original path for the first time in many, many months. I stopped where the tree used to be. At least, I thought I did. I walked a bit further, thinking I was mistaken, but then retraced my steps, recognizing the curve in the trail, and the old live oak across the way. The tree was gone. Completely and utterly gone without a trace. Gone was the once vast root skirt, that was once wider than my arms could stretch. Gone was the trunk, the branches...without a trace. Back to terra mater, after having reached once to the sky to enjoy the sunlight. Back to the earth, and though brought down to soon, provided years of home and hearth for countless other creatures.
It will never really be gone, though we can no longer see it or touch it. Gone from our immediate senses, yes, but firmly rooted as a memory. It's energy dispersed into so many other forms, in the earth, in the water of the creek nearby, in the air.
I may need to walk a different path tomorrow. But maybe not. We'll see where the wind takes me, and if it's back the same way, I will be sure to smile when I take that turn...
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Brain Buzz
I am stumped by own busy-ness. I am so busy I can't get anything done. I fill my time with stuff, meaningful stuff, not so meaningful stuff, and I keep on thinking of more stuff that I want to do, that needs to be done, that will never get done. The brain is buzzing at a rate i can't even track - and when it stops, I crash hard. But then night brain picks up where day brain leaves off. I'm having the best dreams I've had in years - utterly vivid, seemingly visceral, the kind that stay with you for days. Then all the day stuff gets in the way, the commitments I've made, the folks that count on me, it's an insane, inane circle of busy, as I try to hold on to the feeling of flight from the night prior...what is all this coming to? Where is it headed? Somewhere good, I hope - somewhere magnificent - somewhere caught between confusion and bliss? Or even just a coffee shop and full page of letters. Who the hell knows - 2012 is off on a wild ride...yee-freakin'-haw, here we go!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)