Weekly Bread # 237

Sometimes a trail is overgrown and you have to go through the weeds to reach your destination. Long pants and sleeves help, but, then, if it is a hot day, you pay for that tick protection. There are always choices, but there aren’t always good ones. Pick your poison. Or, you can do what I did, simply turn around before you planned to do so, head back to the car and call it a day. I have done that trail before, on cooler days, and after the rangers had been through with their weed whackers. It has to be fun. When it isn’t – just stop and turn around. There will be other days and other trails. Follow the star, but stay away from cliffs – and ticks.

If you have been following this blog for awhile, you know that ministry is important to me. I am happily retired, but there are moments when I feel that sense of call, a fierce passion, rising from my gut. A friend gave me a copy of the following poem this week. She’d kept in in a scrapbook for almost 25 years, along with the newspaper obituary for the Rev. Norma Cordell. I wrote the poem in October 1998. I think maybe I read it at Norma’s memorial service. She had a certain fierce sweet passion that made her a remarkably courageous and visionary minister. I feel a shiver of that in myself at times, and also glimpse it others, most recently in the colleague who has recently been called as the settled minister of the congregation that Norma served, that I am again a member of. Norma helped start me on the path toward ministry. I think Cory will help keep me on it – even if it is a little “overgrown” just now, even if it is only in my soul.

“Norma

My heart aches and breaks

How will we go on?

Your courage, spirit, vision,

Filled our lives with hope.

You directed our steps on a path,

Hard and steep at times,

But it really led somewhere.

We tried to follow,

At least most of the time.

It’s scary to be promised so much

Scary to reach out into newness,

Into hope.

Scary to trust Love.

Your light shone bright

It shone it shone

Deeper, wider than you – or we

Realized.

The wound,

The gaping hole of your loss

Seems an abyss of emptiness

We pledge to keep your light shining

To keep good courage

And right relationship

We will reach to each other

Take hands

And walk the path.

Blessings to you so sweet so fierce

Go shining.

We love you and will keep you always

A part of the soul of all of us.

Theresa October 1998

On another note about another journey- my weight is still pretty stable and it might be about time to invest in a few more clothes. I only have two pairs of pants that fit and are long enough, cool enough, and look good enough to wear to church in hot weather. I mean, it works with just the two if I keep up with my laundry, but it is a little boring. Then again, winter will be coming soon and I have at least 4 pairs of jeans and one pair of “nice” slacks so maybe I can wait. I am not a book, but don’t judge me by my cover.

L’Chaim!

Average weight this week was down 1.5 pounds for a total loss of 145

Weekly Bread #236

Sometimes it is hard to get above the tree line, to a place where the horizon opens up. If the fog has lifted and the air is relatively clear, one can sometimes see for miles. Most of life seems like is merely wandering under a canopy that blocks the sky. We watch where we put our feet, careful to follow a path that we believe is the correct one. You can’t know for sure, however, until you find a way to get above the trees, away from the every day concerns, and then maybe you can see what the hawks see as they soar above it all.

Part of why I love to hike is that it often reconnect with what it means to be alive, with my body working hard and with my mind and spirit both engaged. The grand views are wonderful of course, but it is also the noticing of the small things that feeds me. A leaf spins suspended from a spider’s web. A tiny waterfall cascades down a fern-covered rock. There is magic in the air. Everywhere. Breathe it in.

L’Chaim!

Average weight this week was up .9 pounds for a total loss of 143.5.

Weekly Bread # 235

Hiking hats do wear out, but this one isn’t quite done yet, just a little worse for wear. Kind of like my body feels sometimes. Aging isn’t particularly fun, but it is important to keep going and keep moving and be thankful that I still can. The heat slowed me down again this week, with only a few hikes and more pool days.

Our world is even more battered than my hat, but hopefully it too will keep keeping on.

L’Chaim!

Average weight this week was down .4 pounds for a total loss of 144.4.

Weekly Bread #234 Labyrinths, Letters, and the Law

We hiked to a labyrinth in the Marin Headlands this week. Which is sort of redundant when you think about it. Both are walking meditations. Hiking clearly is meditative for me. It isn’t a race, although I would feel like the tortoise if it were one. I am not fast. I am usually careful how I place my feet to avoid falling. I stop to take pictures or just to look around and notice nature. A labyrinth is like that too. One walks it slowly, circling and turning until you read the center. The center is a good place to leave your worries, fears, or to place your hopes. It is a form of prayer, but it is also just the body moving in an intentional way. It is a time outside of normal time. Then we leave it and hike back into the world.

The world made me grumpy this week. A small thing maybe, but there was a letter to the editor printed in the local paper complaining that a major bridge had been closed for 17 hours. The traffic was horrendous everywhere because of the closure. They closed the bridge because someone had gotten out of their car and was planning to jump. It took a very long time for the responders to talk him down.

I understood the frustration of the letter writer, and could even understand some of his complaints about how it was handled. Traffic control most likely could have been better, with more signage and alerts about the closure quicker. But it disturbed me deeply when he said that he and many others were “inconvenienced” because of “just one person.” Did he think that the responders should have just let the person die? He was someone’s child, and they saved his life by doing what they did. One life has to be worth it. Caring is what makes us human after all.

Yes, traffic jams are terrible. We need much better public transit which would have helped. But if someone’s life is in danger, we need to stop and do whatever we can to help. I am not going to second guess whoever made the decision to shut down the bridge in both directions in order to save a life. Maybe they could have done something different, and I am sure they will debrief on every decision made that day, but they knew what mattered most. They were human. They are heroes. And I hope they didn’t read that letter to the editor.

This last week was also National Night Out which is supposed to enhance the relationship between community members and first responders, especially law enforcement, but fire trucks are the most popular attraction for the kids. The event was down the street and about 30 neighbors showed up. The home owners association provided pizza, cookies — and wine and beer. One local police detective was there at the beginning. When I saw the wine and beer, I looked at the detective and said something about open container laws. He did not respond and then left shortly thereafter. We all proceeded to eat pizza and drink some very good wine while standing in the middle of the street fearlessly laughing, talking, and drinking. It was a fun time, and although wine and pizza isn’t a particularly healthy dinner, chatting with neighbors and meeting some new ones was fun.

It was also disturbing.

Last year, in this same city, in a nearby neighborhood that doesn’t have a homeowners association, a hispanic man, an immigrant, who worked as a gardener, was drinking a beer after work while sitting on a street curb with some friends. Two police officers confronted him and his friends over the open container issue, and it ended up with him being severely beaten and arrested. Luckily, there was video recorded, charges were dropped against the man who was beaten, and the officers are now – a year later – the ones being prosecuted.

There was a reason my neighbors were so fearless about drinking in the street this week. We knew we the sort of people who the police are paid to protect. No way we we going to be arrested, beaten, or even fined over having open containers of alcohol on the street. In fact, our behavior was quietly sanctioned by the officer who attended. White privilege and racism are both very real even in this relatively liberal city. Like walking a labyrinth, we need to enter into and recognize that reality before we begin to can find the way out.

L’Chaim!

Average weight this week was up .9 pounds for a total loss of 144.