It's Been a Good Year: A Few of My Favorite Things.

"Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true."

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1850
 

Here are some things I liked about 2010:

 

Favorite Album Released in 2010

My favorite song states, "Let's go downtown and watch the modern kids. Let's go downtown and talk to the modern kids. The will eat right out of your hand, using great big words that they don't understand." It takes me back to my high-school days when I would walk down Massachusetts street in Lawrence Kansas. This song is a great representation of who I would see as I walked downtown.

Favorite Novel

 

 

Out of the twenty years I have existed on this planet, this is probably the best fiction work I have ever experienced. It is by far the longest and most challenging. It takes place around the time the events of the book of Acts are taking place. It is a story about the preservation of the chalice that touched the lips of Jesus during the last supper. Key characters include Basil, Deborrah, Joseph of Arimathea, Simon Peter and several other apostles. This story is so detailed and vivid, I couldn't help but get emotionally involved in the story.

Favorite Non-Fiction

Chris McCandless has become so intriguing to me over this past year. I saw the movie a few years ago, but reading the book has taken my interest to a whole different level. In 1992 McCandless left his mother, father, and sister, ditched his car, and gave his life savings to charity. He hitchhiked to Alaska where he died from mold on the wild potato roots he was eating.

In response to the criticism McCandless has received, someone said "you either starve in your stomach or you starve in your soul...you choose."

This man chose solitude. This man chose simplicity. He wasn't out of his mind and he wasn't stupid. Before he died McCandless wrote in the margins of a book, "Happiness only real when shared."

Favorite Essay

 

"Autumnal Tints"

By: Henry David Thoreau

 

"It is pleasant to walk over the beds of these fresh, crisp, and rustling leaves. How beautifully they go to their graves! how gently lay themselves down and turn to mould!—painted of a thousand hues, and fit to make the beds of us living. So they troop to their last resting-place, light and frisky. They put on no weeds, but merrily they go scampering over the earth, selecting the spot, choosing a lot, ordering no iron fence, whispering all through the woods about it,— some choosing the spot where the bodies of men are mouldering beneath, and meeting them half-way. How many flutterings before they rest quietly in their graves! They that soared so loftily, how contentedly they return to dust again, and are laid low, resigned to lie and decay at the foot of the tree, and afford nourishment to new generations of their kind, as well as to flutter on high! They teach us how to die. One wonders if the time will ever come when men, with their boasted faith in immortality, will lie down as gracefully and as ripe,—with such an Indian-summer serenity will shed their bodies, as they do their hair and nails."

Favorite Movie

I could watch this movie over and over. I love the simplicity of it. There are several long moments where there is no dialogue at all. I think it is the dream of most men to take a pilgrimage into the mountains and survive off of nothing but nature and faith in God. This film will make that dream explode inside the heart.

 

-------

 

"For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning."
-T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"

Naive.

Things are changing. Some of it is good. A lot of it is difficult. It's hard to be in the mood for an overcast day when the sun is blinding your eyes.

 

My bones are being ornery and not wanting to move. I try to stretch them out of bed but it's half hearted. I think my soul is in the same mood.

This song is good for today.

Religion is a breeding ground
Where the Devil's work is deeply found,
With teeth as sharp as cathedral spires,
Slowly sinking in.

God knows that I've been naive
But I think it makes him proud of me.
Now it's so hard to separate
My disappointments from His name.

Because shadows stretch behind the truth,
Where stained glass offers broken clues
And fear ties knots and pulls them tight.
It leaves us paralyzed.

But in the end such tired words will rest.
The truth will reroute the narrow things they've said.
The marionette strings will lower and untie
And out of the ashes, love will be realized.

God knows that we've been naive
And a bit nearsighted to say the least.
It's broken glass at children's feet
That gets swept aside unexpectedly

Some Say He's Dead...Some Say He Never Will Be.

I just finished the film "Jeremiah Johnson" and I wanted to share some of the quotes I found memorable from this wonderfully made movie:

 

Jeremiah Johnson: Just where is it I could find bear, beaver, and other critters worth cash money when skinned?Robidoux: Ride due west as the sun sets. Turn left at the Rocky Mountains.

 

Letter found on the body of Hatchet Jack: "I, Hatchet Jack, being of sound mind and broke legs, do leaveth my rifle to the next thing who finds it, Lord hope he be a white man. It is a good rifle, and kilt the bear that kilt me. Anyway, I am dead. Sincerley, Hatchet Jack."

 

Del Gue: Jeremiah, maybe you best go down to a town, get outta these mountains.Jeremiah Johnson: I've been to a town Del.

Bear Claw Chris Lapp: You've come far pilgrim.Jeremiah Johnson: Feels like far.Bear Claw Chris Lapp: Were it worth the trouble?Jeremiah Johnson: What trouble?

 

Bear Claw Chris Lapp: I am Bear Claw Chris Lapp; bloodkin to the grizzer that bit Jim Britcher's ass! YOU are molesting my hunt!

 

Bear Claw Chris Lapp: You're the same dumb pilgrim that I been hearin' for twenty days, and smellin' for three!

 

Del Gue:I told my pap and mam I was going to be a mountain man; acted like they was gut-shot. "Make your life go here, son. Here's where the people is. Them mountains is for Indians and wild men." "Mother Gue", I says "the Rocky Mountains is the marrow of the world," and by God, I was right.

A Safe Place to Be.

     An expired license, old receipts of useless cups of coffee, and a hunting permit. I try to find myself by examining my pockets. Memories are found. Old friends are rediscovered. The deeper I search, the closer I get to discovering who I am. But as I come closer, I notice that who I am now has trouble getting away from who I once was.

 

I fear the reaction people bestow when they find out who I really am, so I cover my real drivers license with the “Philip” card from Guess Who. Guitar picks always stay in the front pocket so people will instantly give me “cool” status (because all guitar players are cool). My membership card to the National Rifle Association is placed towards the back so I won’t upset the Democrats.

Sometimes I find myself caught in an awkward situation with another person where nothing is being said. The old concert tickets arouse excellent conversation. Stubs of the best concerts bring about hours of discussion—the quality of the band, the crazy people that were there, and the injuries I received in the terrifying abyss of the mosh pit.
 

In the back of my wallet I noticed a card that I didn’t recognize. I pulled it out and saw that it gave the name and number to the pastor of the church I previously attended. The card advises that the worship service starts at 10:45. This church was a major part of my childhood. It saw me at my strongest, and it saw me at my weakest. My parents decided to leave the church after twelve years of faithful attendance. They have yet to attend a church service since they left it about four years ago. Following the departure of my family, the church has gone through many pastoral changes and a dramatic decrease of members. A few days before I left town for college, I decided to visit the church. I’m not sure if it was for old times sake or because of a hope to see old friends and a chance to say farewell.

At the time of my visitation, only ten members were there. Most of them were people I had never seen before. But these strangers were so loving and welcoming. They took a lot of time asking questions and sincerely getting to know me. At the end of the sermon, just as I was about to leave, the newest pastor of the church came up to me and gave me his card. I scanned it over and noticed the motto in the upper right-hand corner, “…a safe place to be.”
 

The student identification cards from high school express my struggle with letting go. My old girlfriend still makes her way into my thoughts, but the absence of her picture shows that I am trying to move on. She once had a grand impact on the contents of my wallet, which was previously filled with her little notes conveying love.
 

My wallet portrayed me as a liar. When I was a sophomore in high school, an announcement came on the intercom notifying all students to report to the auditorium. Excited that we were all getting out of class, we rushed to the auditorium to see what was going to take place. On the stage was a man we had never seen before. He started to speak in a loud, almost intimidating voice. This motivational speaker comically talked about the importance of leadership. All of the students became entranced in the moment as he involved all of us in his speech. It was welcoming and powerful.

As the speaker started to wrap things up, the tone in his voice made the transition into a topic that was apparently serious to him. He talked about the importance of staying away from things that could harm our body such as alcohol and drugs. He passed around little cards that had a statement and a place to sign your name. The saying on the card read “I commit to a drug free life.” He encouraged all of us to sign our names. I thought about it for a little bit. I didn’t sign it until a couple days later when the statement seemed like a pretty important goal. I put the card in my wallet, confident that I had made the right decision.

A couple years after the school meeting I found, myself lost in the recovery of a broken relationship, desperate for a way out. I decided to break the contract. I lied to myself that I would make an effort to stay away from drugs.

As I looked into my wallet I saw a lot of things that need let go of. This excavation brought feelings of pain—old pain that hid inside the back of my thoughts. This pain has been fighting its way to the core of my being ever since it was born. I need to find a way of release. I need to find a safe place to be.

Leslie P. Hartley once wrote that “the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there” (The Go-Between). Looking back on my past I see how much I have changed—changed for the better. Priorities from my past are nothing more than fleeting thoughts. I am amazed by how different I present my life to the world. Rummaging through my wallet brought an opportunity to clean it out, finally removing the things from the past.

I Pray for reflection...

I pray for change...

Swing Low Sweet 'The Chariot.'

October 28, 2009

The Chariot

Oh, Sleeper

We Came as Romans

Dead and Divine

Chapters

Skies

They know exactly what they're doing:

http://www.myspace.com/thechariot

I can't begin to explain what this music does to my soul (but note the photo above-this image would be a rough estimate).

The lead singer(?) recently came out with an album for his solo project:

http://www.myspace.com/thejoshscogin

He goes by 'A Rose By Any Other Name.' It has more of a country sound than anything. Not bad country. Johnny Cash Country.

Running Water.

A story:

I was running yesterday. It was the first opportunity I've had to get outside and get some exercise since school started. I was running about town and found myself at Wall Park.

As I was running around the predestined path I became painfully thirsty, which is quite unusual for me. I started a search for drinkable water and as I looked up I saw an abandoned Gatorade bottle with some water in it. Being aware of all the germs that the bottle could contain, I began to look elsewhere.

Then I heard a voice:

"Do you have that little of Faith?"

"You're Right," I replied "Sorry."

I twisted off the cap and poured some water on my hands to rinse my face. I took a small swig, just enough to suffice until I returned to the apartment.

Something about me:

I love the sound of running water. I always find joy in relaxing next to a soft stream; sitting in a field of green (Psalm 23), maybe leaning up against a good tree that is willing to support me.

I also love the sound of a sink in the kitchen. It lets me know that there is someone there--that I am not alone.

I remember waking up as a child and hearing my father washing the dishes downstairs. At the time I would get frustrated with him for doing that while I was trying to watch cartoons. It would drown out the sound, so I would turn the television volume up. When he would turn off the faucet, my mother would get onto me for have the volume up too loud.

The sounds of other people give me comfort.

I pray for protection...

I pray for something to be protected from...

Through Things.

The day is overcast.

I've been spending this week at my grandparents house. They live right next to the shore of Table Rock lake in Shell Knob, Missouri. The house is deep in the trees and is lost by cell phone service.

My grandfather is out working on a deck for a friend and my grandmother is quilting at the senior center. She and her friends work together to make quilts for people who need to be warm.

Being alone in the house is quite relaxing on a day like today. Although, there was a phone call. I just let the answering machine take care of it and now it beeps every five seconds (this is not an exaggeration,I timed it) letting everyone know that it has something to share. Fearful of the importance of the message I am reluctant to touch the machine.

I've been reading today; a book about a kid who leaves home for the summer to be a counselor at a Christian camp. It's good so far. I found it at the Shell Knob Public Library which consists of about three bookshelves. With it I found a book by Clark Strand entitled Seeds from a Birch Tree. In the book, Strand explains the art of Haiku. It's quite fascinating how he relates back to nature. But he starts bringing in the concept of Zen Buddhism. To be honest, the way he brings nature into the religion is quite appealing, and the description of meditation seems relaxing and freeing. I am not sure, however, how I feel about taking aspects of this different religion and applying them to my spiritual walk.

At the house, my grandparents have random, unorganized, yet perfectly placed yard art:

Ever since I turned my computer on today I've been listening to Nathan Phillips (www.myspace.com/nathanphillipssongs) His songs are very contemplative and are very easy to write to; and think to.

The sun is beginning to overcome the clouds. I must go finish my day.

I pray for work...

I pray for rest...