I feared for long this day
that we would sail through these wretched waters
deceptively calm, beautiful
I knew what lies ahead
The Siren's song prances o'er effortlessly
Coated with honey to disguise such malice
Beckoning, calling my name, dizzying my mind
Loosening my grip, my determination
May I not sail in vain
Fetch the strongest cords aboard!
Tie me to the mast,
make the knots ever taut
Grant me the vigilance of Odysseus
Their lies coax
proffering gentle repose
they are a mirage of feigned hope
I am weary, my sails tattered and thin
wandering in this relentless desert
Although their chorus drowns all else out
Something constant as the ringing in my ears holds me
The very words that began this tiresome journey
If I veer now, it was all meaningless
May I not sail in vain
Tie me to the mast
your words bind me there
May this not be in vain
Lead me out of exile, into Zion
Abandoned all other hope
to search the seas recklessly
your words are all I have
Your oath, your covenant carries me
May I not sail in vain
as it echoes on and on
above the enticing tales of Babylon
"I will be found by you"
Inspired by Jeremiah 29:12-14
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
roots
I don’t claim to have a green thumb or to even know much about plants. Yet for some reason an image rooted itself in my mind the other day as I was walking through town with my friend. Strange in that I haven’t see a whole lot of plantlife in awhile as well, so perhaps that is why it is so vivid in my mind.
I have been thinking about why it is difficult to change scenes, to move yourself from one setting to another when you have made that place your home. The longer we are in one place the more we grow accustomed to the soil and the overall milieu, adjusting in the right places so that we can live as comfortably as we can. With time we set roots in the soil so that we can take from the nutrients offered and begin the growth process. It is slow going but with time our roots go deeper, they thicken and expand, perhaps a parallel of what happens with the branches above the soil. We know how much water and sunshine to expect, how harsh the conditions of the weather are and everything else necessary to survive.
When it comes time to move we have to dig up the roots so that we can be moved from one soil to another. In this process the thicker roots remain intact, yet the frail and thin extensions of the smaller roots are usually broken and are left behind. No matter how careful, roots are ripped and torn, but what is important that enough is there that the plant can continue to glean nutrients.
When we move, if we have grown roots deep enough in a place, a part of us is left behind, no matter how well we say goodbye. We can do what we may to avoid any pain, but the truth is that some relationships and connections are fragile. A part of you will always remain where you left off. Some of us choose to amplify the pain and not trust that it is worth growing those smaller, more breakable roots in the new soil, knowing that the main roots are enough for us to live on. The fact is that we get less nutrients this way and are less intertwined with the soil. When it comes time to move again we remember that we didn’t grow those smaller roots so we just yank the plant out without digging up the roots because the strongest ones are thick enough to not be damaged. In reality, each time we do this even the thicker roots receive enough wear in tear that over time they begin to break down.
I have been thinking about why it is difficult to change scenes, to move yourself from one setting to another when you have made that place your home. The longer we are in one place the more we grow accustomed to the soil and the overall milieu, adjusting in the right places so that we can live as comfortably as we can. With time we set roots in the soil so that we can take from the nutrients offered and begin the growth process. It is slow going but with time our roots go deeper, they thicken and expand, perhaps a parallel of what happens with the branches above the soil. We know how much water and sunshine to expect, how harsh the conditions of the weather are and everything else necessary to survive.
When it comes time to move we have to dig up the roots so that we can be moved from one soil to another. In this process the thicker roots remain intact, yet the frail and thin extensions of the smaller roots are usually broken and are left behind. No matter how careful, roots are ripped and torn, but what is important that enough is there that the plant can continue to glean nutrients.
When we move, if we have grown roots deep enough in a place, a part of us is left behind, no matter how well we say goodbye. We can do what we may to avoid any pain, but the truth is that some relationships and connections are fragile. A part of you will always remain where you left off. Some of us choose to amplify the pain and not trust that it is worth growing those smaller, more breakable roots in the new soil, knowing that the main roots are enough for us to live on. The fact is that we get less nutrients this way and are less intertwined with the soil. When it comes time to move again we remember that we didn’t grow those smaller roots so we just yank the plant out without digging up the roots because the strongest ones are thick enough to not be damaged. In reality, each time we do this even the thicker roots receive enough wear in tear that over time they begin to break down.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Soundtracks, peripheral vision, and a crumby analogy
A series of scattered thoughts.
We all need a soundtrack to step to. One to guide us, one foot in front of the other. Tunes that demonstrate what we are going through, as if all the world can see you and understand. Other times we need the songs that slow us down and help us see what is going on around us. Then again, there are the beats, the lyrics, melodies that speed us up or keep us going when we so badly want to stop.
Every idea, every image that shows up in my mind or heart is only the very tip of what there is to see and to understanding. I see everything in my periphery, not enough to see in full and yet just enough to mystify me and keep me searching. Like a dog fascinated when it sees its tail in the side of its eye and is willing to chase it to no end, I feel like I have been running in circles trying to catch whatever it is in full view. This is life, this is why we keep living and moving forward (or maybe more accurately—off to the side?). We can’t settle for what we see now, there is always more. I will search desperately to just see a little more than I saw before, just to know more, for it was beautiful and it continues to haunt me. Although I look a fool for chasing my tail I know that what I saw out of the corner of my eye is a peek into what life really is and what is to come. It is ever elusive, no matter how quickly I turn to the left or the right, I am always a step behind, left with just enough of a morsel to fuel my curiosity.
We choose to ignore our peripheral vision, it is easy. So much easier to focus on what is straight ahead of us. It is more comfortable and we are used to it. Our peripheral vision isn’t great and you can’t exactly trust what you see, especially since it is the place of our blindspot. What if the truth was that hard to see? What if that is why we all have different ideas of it?
The way I see life is that we have only tasted a crumb of what is to come. The crumb was just big enough to ignite an insatiable hunger, so we continue through life searching for the place that the crumb came from. Some of us grow content in searching for more of those crumbs, as if Hansel and Gretel are going to lead us along, forgetting that a crumb is a smaller piece of something much bigger. The crumbs are hard to come by, but those that search are rewarded by what they find. For some of us the hunger grows so intense that we become as infants, putting any and everything in our mouth, showing no discretion and hoping that we will get lucky. We can grow blind in our search, not considering the evidence around the crumbs we find, unaware that they could lead us to more.
Is it more important to discover the source of the crumbs or to uncover the identity of the baker? Once we actually find where X marks the spot how long will our prized possession last? This is where we get confused, for the baker is fully capable of making much more of what we have tasted. Our senses will be overwhelmed with what is available once we realize that the crumb is actually a key that unlocks an unfathomable spectrum of secrets that will forever keep us in ecstasy.
The sad part is that we grow cynical in our search for the great cake, we come to think that there is none in existence. We think that the crumbs are all that there is, so we prize them and abuse them and they become subjects of our adulation. We forget that if there were crumbs that they have to have come from somewhere and that they are the result of someone’s work. Soon the different flavored crumbs become talismans that a select few horde, claiming understanding and knowledge beyond this realm. They deprive those who hunger for the truth and feed them their own fabrications of the crumbs, themselves long forgetting what the crumbs tasted like, creating inferior flakes that fade.
We all need a soundtrack to step to. One to guide us, one foot in front of the other. Tunes that demonstrate what we are going through, as if all the world can see you and understand. Other times we need the songs that slow us down and help us see what is going on around us. Then again, there are the beats, the lyrics, melodies that speed us up or keep us going when we so badly want to stop.
Every idea, every image that shows up in my mind or heart is only the very tip of what there is to see and to understanding. I see everything in my periphery, not enough to see in full and yet just enough to mystify me and keep me searching. Like a dog fascinated when it sees its tail in the side of its eye and is willing to chase it to no end, I feel like I have been running in circles trying to catch whatever it is in full view. This is life, this is why we keep living and moving forward (or maybe more accurately—off to the side?). We can’t settle for what we see now, there is always more. I will search desperately to just see a little more than I saw before, just to know more, for it was beautiful and it continues to haunt me. Although I look a fool for chasing my tail I know that what I saw out of the corner of my eye is a peek into what life really is and what is to come. It is ever elusive, no matter how quickly I turn to the left or the right, I am always a step behind, left with just enough of a morsel to fuel my curiosity.
We choose to ignore our peripheral vision, it is easy. So much easier to focus on what is straight ahead of us. It is more comfortable and we are used to it. Our peripheral vision isn’t great and you can’t exactly trust what you see, especially since it is the place of our blindspot. What if the truth was that hard to see? What if that is why we all have different ideas of it?
The way I see life is that we have only tasted a crumb of what is to come. The crumb was just big enough to ignite an insatiable hunger, so we continue through life searching for the place that the crumb came from. Some of us grow content in searching for more of those crumbs, as if Hansel and Gretel are going to lead us along, forgetting that a crumb is a smaller piece of something much bigger. The crumbs are hard to come by, but those that search are rewarded by what they find. For some of us the hunger grows so intense that we become as infants, putting any and everything in our mouth, showing no discretion and hoping that we will get lucky. We can grow blind in our search, not considering the evidence around the crumbs we find, unaware that they could lead us to more.
Is it more important to discover the source of the crumbs or to uncover the identity of the baker? Once we actually find where X marks the spot how long will our prized possession last? This is where we get confused, for the baker is fully capable of making much more of what we have tasted. Our senses will be overwhelmed with what is available once we realize that the crumb is actually a key that unlocks an unfathomable spectrum of secrets that will forever keep us in ecstasy.
The sad part is that we grow cynical in our search for the great cake, we come to think that there is none in existence. We think that the crumbs are all that there is, so we prize them and abuse them and they become subjects of our adulation. We forget that if there were crumbs that they have to have come from somewhere and that they are the result of someone’s work. Soon the different flavored crumbs become talismans that a select few horde, claiming understanding and knowledge beyond this realm. They deprive those who hunger for the truth and feed them their own fabrications of the crumbs, themselves long forgetting what the crumbs tasted like, creating inferior flakes that fade.
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