new blog

started a new blog for anyone following.
(if there is anyone following.)
iamperipheral.wordpress.com

i like nonsense.
it wakes up the brain cells.

dr. seuss

wow

Casteller from Mike Randolph on Vimeo.

inclusion

tell me and i'll forget
show me and i'll remember
involve me and i'll understand.

confucius

paper

Jeremy Messersmith - Tatooine from Eric Power on Vimeo.

visual journey

CLOSE UP AND PRIVATE IN MOTION from Noriko Okaku on Vimeo.

never know

don't forget who are
because you never know
what you'll be.

unknown

it's not, but

it’s not what we eat
but what we digest
that makes us strong;
not what we gain
but what we save
that makes us rich;
not what we read
but what we remember
that makes us learned;
and not what we profess
but what we practice
that gives us integrity.

francis bacon, sr.

show

it is our choices
that show
what we truly are,
far more than
our abilities.

j. k. rowling

turn

a man who wants
to lead the orchestra
must turn his back
on the crowd.

max lucado

through

the best way out
is always through.

robert frost

don't

don't judge those
who try and fail,
judge those
who fail to try.

unknown

look

don't look
where you fall,
but where
you slipped.

african proverb

the impact

i love the simplicity of this video. another language? doesn't matter. you still get the point.

Van Marcke / Unicef from Peepshow Collective on Vimeo.

craftmanship

interesting little short with great imagery and score.

MOMA - Midnight Over My Actions from Leandro Manuel Emede on Vimeo.

excuses, excuses

bad excuses
are worse
than none.

thomas fuller

stupidity

to forget
one's purpose
is the
commonest
form of
stupidity.

friedrich nietzsche

remember

do not spoil
what you have
by desiring
what you have not;
remember
that what you
now have
was once among
the things
you only
hoped for.

epicurus

stop motion wonder

Sorry I'm Late from Tomas Mankovsky on Vimeo.

stop motion music

Stop Motion Music from lullatone on Vimeo.

barren

beware of the
barrenness
of a busy life.

socrates

nothing

there is nothing
in a caterpillar
that tells you
it's going to be
a butterfly.

buckminster fuller

essential

the essential thing
is not knowledge,
but character.

joseph le conte

live

the best way to
prepare for life
is to begin
to live.

elbert hubbard

the box

outside the box from joseph Pelling on Vimeo.

hope

hope is the dream
of a man awake.

french proverb

impression

the secret of a good memory is attention,
and attention to a subject depends
upon our interest in it.
we rarely forget that which has made
a deep impression on our minds.

tryon edwards

happy

when i was five years old,
my mom always told me
that happiness
was the key to life.

when i went to school,
they asked me what i wanted
to be when i grew up.
i wrote down "happy."

they told me i didn't
understand the assignment
and i told them they didn't
understand life.

anonymous

learn to manage

explore

capture from
'how to be an explorer'
by keri smith

whatever

trust yourself
and believe.
whatever happens
don't give up.

william kamkwamba

prepared

if you're not prepared
to be wrong,
you'll never come up
with anything original.

sir ken robinson

torn

i arise in the morning
torn between a desire
to improve the world
and a desire to
enjoy the world.
This makes it hard
to plan the day.

e.b. white

writing

dreams are illustrations...
from the book your soul
is writing about you.

marsha norman

crumbs

all our words
are but crumbs
that fall down
from the feast
of the mind.

kahil gibran

take the time to wonder

If i... from Tim Brown on Vimeo.

a good day

they become

carefully watch your thoughts,

for they become your words.

manage and watch your words,

for they will become your actions.

consider and judge your actions,

for they have become your habits.

acknowledge and watch your habits,

for they shall become your values.

understand and embrace your values,

for they become your destiny.

mohandas ghandi

wipe

i heard a song today entitled “mark of cain” and it inspired some thinking. here are the lyrics.

>>>
some people need to believe
that seven days is all that it took
and on the eighth day he came down, he said
well, okay, so let’s take a look.

now i’m no great believer
and you’re no saint
but i put you up there on a pedestal
and i made you into something that you ain’t
i made you into something that you ain’t.

some people, well they thought that the earth was flat
some people still think there’s gold in them hills
and some people, well they get their kicks from television
and some people do it with pills
and some people think the end of the world is nigh
and they do what they have to do just to get by.

but i can see clearly now
to the end of the world
it’s where the land meets the sky
it’s where the land meets the sky.

you bathed me in light and you filled me with hope
your blazing blue eyes, like an up periscope
you fixed me in your gaze and you helped me to see
and you gave me air when i needed to breathe
no need to visit that planet called pain
as this time i won’t shrink away
i went and got myself a tattoo

and it’s not the mark of cain
it’s not the mark of cain
it’s not the mark of cain
it’s not the mark of cain

©2009 russell monk
>>>

in scripture, cain was marked by god. a mark that was permanent, unremovable and easily identifiable. in life, we (all) are “marked” as well. the marks might be physical wounds. or emotional wounds. they could be the consequences of our own bad decisions. or the decisions of others. they might even be known by the name of shame. and yet, i think it’s possible for us to wash these marks away. to get rid of them. sure, they might come back, but they last only as long as we allow them. once we heal, we actually have the ability to wipe them away and start clean.

i wonder just how many of us do wipe them away. and how many of us continue to carry them around for no good reason.

reminder

i woke up with a swollen lip a couple of weeks ago and spent the next several days visiting the closest urgent care, buying and taking prescription drugs, and fighting the embarrassment of looking like i had been punched in the face. (i was mostly concerned about looking credible in an upcoming presentation.)

i soon discovered that it was an abscess and eventually had to have it drained. not the most pleasant experience, but not unbearable either. and it was at that moment – walking out of the clinic, holding a large piece of gauze to my lip – that i remembered friends i had made around the world, who have been living with bumps, burns, swelling, scars and a whole host of other visible ailments for years.

i quickly realized how important it is for me to discard the temporary packaging that god had given his creation and to work that much harder at discovering the gift within. not only with others, but also with myself. a great reminder.

in the know

real knowledge
is to know the extent
of one's ignorance.

confucius

change the world around you (for good)

Papiroflexia from Joaquin Baldwin on Vimeo.

too often

too often we enjoy
the comfort of opinion
without the discomfort
of thought.

john f. kennedy

paying attention

the moment one gives
close attention to any thing,
even a blade of grass
it becomes a mysterious,
awesome, indescribably
magnificent world in itself.

henry miller

tick tick tick tick

i really need to start writing again. aargh.
image by jamesgulliverhancock

my friend, the thesaurus

optimism over pessimism

the average pencil
is seven inches long,
with just a
half-inch eraser –
in case you thought
optimism was dead.

robert brault

true you

today you are you,
that is truer than true.
there is no one alive
who is youer than you.

dr. seuss

not but

it's not what men eat,
but what they digest
that makes them strong;

not what we gain,
but what we save
that makes us rich;

not what we read,
but what we remember
that makes us learned;

not what we preach or pray,
but what we practice and believe
that makes us christians.

francis bacon

known

it is a sad fate
for a man to die
too well known
to everybody else
and (yet) still
unknown
to himself.

francis bacon

the higher road

south african archbishop
desmond tutu walked by
a construction site
on a temporary sidewalk
the width of one person.
a white man appeared
at the other end,
recognized tutu, and said,
"i don't make way for gorillas."
at which tutu stepped aside,
made a deep sweeping gesture,
and said, "ah, yes, but i do."

walter wink

>>>

i am not responsible
for what the other person
may or may not do.
i am only responsible
for me.

may i always take
the higher road.

sit

happiness is
like a butterfly
which,
when pursued,
is always beyond
our grasp,
but,
if you will sit
down quietly,
may alight
upon you.

nathaniel hawthorne

question

it is not enough
to be busy;
so are the ants.

the question is:
what are we
(am i)
busy about?

henry david thoreau

effect and cause

what will the effects
of watching people die
around the world
cause you to do?

profound whatever

you will be

patiently we wait
as you develop to perfection
we are expectant
for the day of your
majestic arrival

we’ve never met
and yet we already converse
you move and we watch
you stretch and we touch
words without sound

a flawless impression
of your creator –
every detail unique
and ultimately
one-of-a-kind

we are humbled
silenced by awe
and thankful for the gift –
if for only a moment
we can claim as our own

you are little eu
you are little me
you are little us
soon,
you will be

keep your eyes on the tree

character is like a tree
and reputation like its shadow.
the shadow is what we think of it;
the tree is the real thing.

abraham lincoln

fully alive

i will not die an unlived life.
i will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
i choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible,
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
i choose to risk my significance;
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.

dawna markova

possibilities

meant to shine

"our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. we ask ourselves, "who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?" actually, who are you not to be? you are a child of god. your playing small does not serve the world. there is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. we are all meant to shine, as children do. we were born to make manifest the glory of god that is within us. it is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. as we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

marianne williamson

so big. and so simple.

watch. think. act. #one

watch. think. change. #one

to understand

i was reading a few interviews from thought leaders in the business sector and came across some great advice. one of the individuals interviewed was asked to share the best business advice he had ever received. he said it was the idea of something called “l.u.r.”

l.u.r. stands for listen, understand, and respond. this is the order in which and the process by which we should all operate. often, we listen and respond, but rarely do we take the time or have the desire to understand.

can you imagine how our responses would change if we would actually stop and try to understand first? perhaps in some cases, we wouldn’t respond at all. something to think about anyway.

untitled

open your eyes
close your ears

close your ears
open your eyes

listen to the
words you see

you’re blind
to what you hear

listen to the
words you see

do not fear
the fruit beneath

reach for roots
beneath the trees

listen to the
words you seek

don’t listen to
a word they say

do not listen to
a word you’ve heard

do not listen to
a word you’ve heard

people are people
we live for our own

live how you think
not by what
you’ve been told

justin nozuka


what would it be like if we spent more time listening to the words we think and speak and less time listening to the words we hear. not that we shouldn’t listen. but what if we placed more of an emphasis on ourselves and less on others. taking more responsibility for our own actions.

can we use our senses in different ways? can we listen with our eyes? see with our ears? taste with our nose? or smell with our mouths? an interesting thought.

disconnected

i’m feeling incredibly disconnected lately. disconnected from church. disconnected from others. disconnected from christians. disconnected from my faith. i think i’m just getting tired of so many things operating on the surface. i hate the surface. i understand the need for surface, but still dislike it quite a bit.

and i am starting to tire of loops. things that keep looping around and around and around. i want things to be fresh. not the routine of telling the same stories over and over again. not the routine of going through the same motions. but living life in the moment. actually participating in life rather than just observing. allowing my days to be more fluid and less structured.

i am feeling unsatisfied and yet content simultaneously and am unsure of its meaning or implications. sitting in it is not that big of a deal. in fact, i am enjoying that part of it – anticipating something to happen. some sort of epiphany or leading. a revelation of some kind. get this – i am trusting that my loss of faith will actually result in a strengthened faith. renewed. refreshed. clearer.

but the reality is that i’m losing faith in a lot of things. and given this time of the year and the nearing election, i am finding myself losing faith in people – especially americans. the division of our country based on political party is starting to disgust me. it’s us versus them, smearing of all kinds, finger-pointing, ripping, etcetera. everyone thinks that they are right and the other is wrong. hypocrisy rules and it’s saddening.

it seems like so many things that i’m encountering in the world lately are having a negative impact on me. the state of the world makes my head spin. politically motivated speeches and movies and commentary make my heart ache. simplified and echoing church speak leaves my soul empty. and the list goes on and on.

and so i wait. patiently. to find connections. or for connections to find me.

spinning

i watched a movie with eu and the kids this weekend and heard a line that will stick with me for quite some time. it’s still spinning within me. and i’m not sure where it will stop. or live. or exit.

“it’s not the power of the curse. it’s the power one gives the curse.”

thoughts and words

i am beginning to notice that the older i get, the more i stumble over my words. it’s as if my mind is working faster than my mouth and the words just can’t keep up with my thinking. i sometimes wonder what that means. perhaps i just need to slow down a bit. not only in my thinking, but as i do life in general. (that’s probably for another blog however.)

here are some things i wonder about. how well are my thoughts matching up with my words? how much time do i give to clearly articulating my thoughts and representing them accurately? or am i just rambling much of the time? or better put, how many words do my thoughts have? or should they have?

does the idea of using only a few words imply too much self-editing and a lack of transparency? and do too many words imply the exact opposite? i’m learning to use the right number of words. but it’s definitely a work in progress.

are you happy?

i’ve been wondering why so many people i know are unhappy lately. unhappy with their jobs. unhappy in their relationships. unhappy with their possessions. unhappy with their faith. unhappy with their course in life. and ultimately, unhappy with life itself.

so i’m starting to ask the simple question, “are you happy?” and then i listen. my hope is that i’ll learn from others. from those who are happy. and those who are not. i never tire of learning. all the while, asking the same question of myself.

dramatic passion

my wife and i picked up the munchkins on tuesday and headed for home before proceeding over to our brother and sister's place for quesadilla night. and as we entered our dwelling place, i could smell the sweet aroma of freshly baked brownies. apparently, my wife had just cooked a batch for the kids and i to snack on prior to dinner. (she's so amazing.)

it took a few minutes for the kids to realize that the brownies were there, but the moment they did, they both wrapped their arms around stepmom in a moment of triumph and joy and exhileration. (in fact, i think time may have stood still for a brief moment.) and then our youngest daughter – in a voice of sheer desperation – says, "i am begging you . . . please can i have some?"

that's when it hit me. i wish i could cry out in the same words and voice to my heavenly father, "i am begging you . . . please can i have some?" but i don't have that same passion for the spiritual right now. there is a part deep inside of me that wants it. i just don't feel it.

and so as i write this today, i cry out to the one who made and formed me, "i am begging you . . . please help me find that passion."

small moment number three

at a wedding reception this weekend, i had the opportunity to tear it up on the dance floor with my wee ones. we danced fast. we danced crazy. and we danced slow. my oldest and i danced to a slow jazz tune in the traditional way – hand stretched out in hand and the others resting on either waist or shoulder. however, when it came time to slow dance with my youngest, i was expecting to pick her up and rock gently back and forth, much like we do at home sometimes. her arms wrapped around me tightly and her head resting tenderly on my shoulder. but she didn't want to be held this night. she wanted to dance the way that grown-ups do.

it was a hard moment for me. it felt like she was starting to pull away. almost as if she would have been embarrassed to be too close to her baba. and although i know that she was simply making a decision to act more grown-up and to dance the way that others were dancing that evening, my heart felt a tinch of sadness. a sadness that had just witnessed the process and quest for independence starting way too soon. god help me, as i search for the balance of encouraging independent thinking and maintaining connectedness and transparency with my munchkins. this will be hard. (pause.) really hard.

not a good small moment for me. not necessarily bad, but not good. i just hope that the one who loves me without any condition will bless us with more good small moments than those that fall into any other category.

(still processing.) small moment number three.

stirred

the dust
of the path
stirs at
my feet
and rises all
around me –
filling the air
with traces
of those
who have
walked it
before.
and suddenly,
my steps
become less
of an activity
and more
of a significant
event –
where i now
feel a stirring
within.

changes

wanting to write this morning, but not quite sure what to write about. as i look out the window and see the leaves changing color, i realize that there are things in me that i want to change. and things outside of me that i want to change. or at least influence in the direction of change. bogged down sometimes by the distractions of life, i miss listening to the voices that are crying out around me. there are some serious needs in the world. and as i sit and write this from the comfort of my own home, i feel a great sense of frustration that others are without so much. food. clothing. homes. love. friends. family. opportunity.

i often think about the way in which our leaders argue back and forth – trying to figure out and present the best approaches for solving things such as poverty. discussions around welfare. around job opportunities. around education. and yes, all of these things may be important. but who's right? the ideas in themselves are all good. but the ways of realizing them are often flawed. i hear people making some pretty serious statements. pros and cons with each approach. and i don't think there is anything wrong with analyzing the best way to help the world with its struggles. the point is to help, right? not necessarily how we help, but to help. and maybe that is the problem. we are consumed by the method instead of the task.

and then i think of jesus and his response to others in need. it's interesting, because i never saw jesus asking others to fill out some kind of application. or offering them a job in exchange for something. he would encourage others and acknowledge their strengths and abilities, but never withhold. he was a giver. meeting needs. speaking of wonders. teaching about the best ways to live. jesus saw the needs around him. and then he did something about them. he met them. not in their entirety. but one need at a time. may i meet the needs of others. and may i let go of my disappointment in not being able to change the world and rather find contentment in my ability to change small things. meeting the needs of those in whom i encounter – one need at a time.

no more than twelve

he was young
but eloquent
in his choice
of words –

thank you
for taking
the time
to speak with us,
to listen to us,
to acknowledge us.
you are a
very kind man.

in silence,
i stood there –
realizing that
i should be
the one
thanking him
for inviting me
into his life.

small moment number two

my wife will often ask me why i'm so cheerful in the morning. (well, not every morning, but some mornings.) and this morning i told her that it was simply the joy of the lord. (a bit of truth there. and a bit of sarcasm.) i then looked at her and said, "don't you have that joy?" shaking her head, she answered, "i do. just not right now."

small moment number two. (smiley face here.)

small moment number one

my youngest daughter has started a journal of "small moments" as part of a routine for her second grade class. it's a pretty sweet idea where you log tiny moments of impact – random moments of impact – with the idea that one day, you will revisit them and utilize them as the inspiration for longer writing assignments.

i've decided that i would like to participate in this simple practice. here is my first attempt.

small moment number one. i'm eating lunch at the dining room table with my two daughters. and as my youngest daughter and i are engaged in a very deep discussion about who received more corn than the other. i explain that even though i may have received more in my first serving than she did, in fact, she received more in her second serving than i. with proud and conspiring eyes, and a look of satisfaction on her face, she responded, "good." it was her moment of victory. a moment where she came out ahead. and although i want to ensure that i do everything i can to help her understand that winning isn't always everything, i recognized this moment of playfulness and chuckled in unison with my oldest. may i never grow tired of eating a meal around the table with my daughters. the magnificent munchkins.

small moment number one.

a room in rutshuru

i struggle
with the lock
on your door –
wiggling,
jiggling,
wondering why
i can’t convince you
to open –
fully capable
but still unable
when finally
we click.

you look old,
deteriorated,
used and
dirty.

and just as
my comfort
begins to feel
forsaken,
i realize
that what you offer
is better
than nine
out of ten
in this world.

humbled,
i comprehend that
i’ve just mistaken
the face
of wealth
for the face
of poverty.

power of touch

holding hands,
we walk the road
as friends.
we’ve only
just met,
and yet i feel
as though
i’ve known you
all my life.

habition

i've known for quite some time that i need to be writing again. writing as a means of expression. writing as an outlet. writing as a healthy means of exercise for the brain. the body. and the spirit. may tonight be the start of a habitual tradition. a habition.

questions (three of three)

should we follow the promptings of our heart?
or should we follow the promptings of our mind?

time and experience have shown me that my heart has the ability to lead me in the right direction – provided that my motives are appropriate. it’s my heart that leads me and my mind that determines whether or not the motives are right and pure. if i want (or need) something and i have the ability to pursue it and it’s for all of the right reasons, then i think that i should go ahead and pursue. that doesn’t mean that i will necessarily get it. but i think that it would be acceptable to pursue it and then walk through the doors that open and try others when the ones before me close.

here is the problem though. too often, what we pursue is for all of the wrong reasons. why? because we have an incredible capacity to justify and to rationalize and to convince ourselves that what is wrong is really right. or at least not that bad. and too often, we ignore the checks and balances that we were created with because they keep us from getting our way.

when we have doubts about something, i think it’s because our heart and mind aren’t on the same page. that might be what they call a “gut check.” and when we have a funny feeling in our gut (or perhaps our soul), i think it’s because our body is telling us that something isn’t right.

giggling

there we are, snuggling together, and she gets the giggles. funny thing, isn't it? how giggles are contagious. and before long, we're both giggling – uncontrollably giggling – and wondering if it will ever end.

questions (two of three)

are our lives predestined?
or are we in control of our own destiny?

i think that god has a perfect plan for each one of us. but it’s hard for us to stay on course because we are human and we make mistakes. we are so easily distracted by things that aren’t good for us. and much too often, it takes a painful meandering for us to realize this. in fact, for most, it takes several painful meanderings.

i think this is easily understood by looking at the relationship between a parent and child. a parent wants the very best for his or her child. but they can’t force the child to do everything they want or to follow a course that has been mapped out for them. eventually the child will want to or need to find his or her own way. eventually they will have to take ownership of their own journey. and they will make mistakes. and they will wander off course. the desire of the parent is for their child to stay on track, but the reality is this – that track isn’t always clear. and sometimes the wrong track looks more appealing, even though the consequences are not.

the good news is that a healthy parent will stand by and support and encourage their child along the way, regardless of where they aim or where they go, or where they end up. and i think that god does the same thing with us. he knows what is best for us. he wants what is best for us. and he will lead us into those great things if we let him. but he will not force us to follow the path he has laid out for us. he gives us the ability to choose and simply walks with us along the way.

spinning

world spins madly on
deb talan_steve tannen

woke up and wished that i was dead, with an aching in my head, i lay motionless in bed. i thought of you and where you'd gone, and let the world spin madly on. everything that i said i'd do, like make the world brand new, and take the time for you. i just got lost and slept right through the dawn, and the world spins madly on. i let the day go by. i always say goodbye. i watch the stars from my window sill. the whole world is moving and i'm standing still. woke up and wished that i was dead, with an aching in my head, i lay motionless in bed. the night is here and the day is gone, and the world spins madly on. i thought of you and where you'd gone, and the world spins madly on.

helpless

there is not much
that i can do.

life has robbed her
of so many things
and yet she has
persevered.

she is an
amazing woman
because of it,
but she's tired.

i feel helpless
as i watch
from a distance.

everything and nothing

her favorite part of the evening was the same as mine...sitting by the river, sipping a drink, and conversing. but it was her reason why that i liked so much. because we talked about everything and absolutely nothing at all.

questions (one of three)

do things happen for a reason?
or do things happen by chance?

i think that everything happens for a reason. but there are different reasons. things present themselves as one of the following – a blessing, a test, or a distraction. and the bugger of it all is to figure out which is which.

we are all on a journey and many things and people and circumstances cross our paths. are they good things for us to receive and enjoy? are they things that are testing us to make us better individuals? or are they distractions that are meant to disrupt our journey? if we can figure out which is which, and then act accordingly, i think we can live very healthy and happy lives. if we don’t, then it becomes very easy to find ourselves in pain – burdened by guilt and hurt and doubt and hopelessness.

we can certainly mess things up. and we do. we mess things up all of the time. but i also believe that god can take any and all of our mistakes and turn them into something good. he can use any circumstance to make us better – even when we’ve jacked the whole thing up. god is oozing with grace. and we need to do the same. both for others and for ourselves. and i believe that this grace can provide us with the confidence that we need to get up, dust ourselves off, and get back on the path set out for us. we may need to go a different way. it may take a bit longer to get where we are going. but we can (and should) continue the journey. we can continue to move forward. and because of this, i think that there can always be a good and happy ending. a different ending than what was planned or expected? perhaps. but still a good and happy ending.

why do i believe this? because i’ve heard so many stories that confirm it. in fact, i even have my own stories to confirm it.

incomplete

i’m realizing lately just how incomplete i really feel. sure, there are days when i feel happy, but there are so many where i just feel absolutely beat. defeated. empty and unable to find the answer. i wonder sometimes where i should even look to find what i seek. the problem is that i’m not really sure what it is i want. or what it is i need. and i wonder if this is something that i will need to accept and endure for the rest of my life. which seems somewhat weak.

untitled

i never tire
of being in
your presence –
each and
every moment
unique and
remembered –
moments
i wish would
never end.

grinning

my youngest daughter gave me an envelope the other day. she had written the word "dad" across the front and had placed a golden star where a stamp would typically go. inside was a note/drawing that she had prepared. it said "wild tiger" across the top. followed by a line that identified who it was "to" and who it was "from." and finally, in the middle of the page, she had drawn a heart with the words "wild tiger" repeated in its center and five exclamation points. i have absolutely no idea what she is referring to or intending with this note/drawing, but i was grinning from ear to ear. thanks kiddo.

distant

i've been feeling a bit distant lately – spiritually. and i'm tired of christians. even christianity a bit. too many are following because everyone else is doing it. and it's more of a formula than anything personal. i guess it's that way for almost any religion – to some extent. but i'm growing weary. i want to break out of the crowd. and find those secret places that some say jesus was drawn to.

i read a book while i was in africa. it was called "the forbidden rumi: the suppressed poems of rumi on love, heresy, and intoxication." and although i didn't necessarily agree with everything (or understand everything for that matter), there were thoughts and overarching themes that hit home. this idea of becoming a heretic in the eyes of others because what you have is so personal and so intimate that it demands leaving the crowd. and it demands abandoning the formula. that resonates with me. and then there was the idea of dissolving into god – losing all of self and becoming one with our creator. (a bit mystic, but i'm intrigued.)

if i'm heading off course, go ahead and tell me. but please don't stop me for simply stepping off the path that everyone else is on.


>>>
here is an excerpt from rumi's book. not the excerpt i wanted to share, but all i could find online.

songs to shams, songs to god 6

what a story! you finally meet someone in whose presence you are transported to god. you immediately go off together, hand in hand, and shut yourself off from the world behind the closed doors of your retreat room. over the weeks and months to follow, you dissolve into each other through simply sitting in each other's presence, gazing raptly at each other. (when god sits down before you, where else would you want to look?) when you emerge from your retreat, you are fundamentally different from the person who entered it so many months before. the only sane thing to do after an event like this is to live happily ever after, yes? but it wasn't like that.

rumi may have entered into retreat with shams as a kind of devout shepherd, looking after his flock of followers, but he emerged as a hungry wolf, exhorting people to drop their pretenses, move beyond their rigid adherence to the outward forms of religion, and enter instead into a direct experience of god.

rumi wanted the townspeople of konya to recognize shams as he had come to know and see him: as a direct conduit to the divine. for rumi, shams was a funnel that led to god. exposed to the heat of shams' presence, rumi would simply melt, and the mixture of the two souls would take both into the consciousness of union. this is what true religion is all about, and rumi fully expected his former followers to leap into the divine fire with him.

their response instead was to react mostly with criticism and outrage to the perceived heresy of two souls merging into the one god. for the orthodox mind, it is accepted that the founder of the religion would have had a direct encounter with the energies of god, but not, evidently, anyone else. the negativity around the companionship between rumi and shams grew so large that shams had no choice but to leave, and rumi fell apart with grief.

it's not about me

i was sitting in church last night observing the stained glass image that is projected onto the wall each week and had the following thoughts. stained glass is beautiful. but it's beauty typically comes from both the pattern that is created from the various pieces of glass working together and the rays of color that are projected as light passes through them. if you isolate two or three pieces and look at them alone, the glass is not nearly as impressive. and without the light, the glass can often seem dull and uninteresting.

and then i started thinking about my life. how there are so many components in my life that all look so different from one another. some are good. some are bad. some are large. some are small. they are just a bunch of fragments pushed up against one another. and by themselves, they aren't that impressive. in fact, many of the pieces that make up my life are cracked or broken. and yet when god's light shines through me, it has a way of making everything look pretty good. people aren't as prone to notice all of the cracks or the broken pieces or even the fact that a certain two or three don't really go together. instead they see the splendor of that which is working in me and through me. and i realize (again) that it's never really about me.

africa

i recently returned from a trip to goma – a large city of eight-hundred thousand in the democratic republic of congo. an amazing trip that filled my life with stories and sounds and smells and experiences that i will never forget. i've been out of touch for awhile, but now i've returned. thanks for your patience.

for those of you interested, i did write quite a bit of prose and poetry documenting my experiences during my time away. most of these writings are posted at http://www.peripheralinafrica.blogspot.com. feel free to visit if you would like.

simply living (with burns to prove it)

i’ve been busy lately. too busy to write. but not to busy to think. and one of the things that i’ve been thinking about is goals. a potential employer asked that i fill out a questionnaire that specifically addressed the goals that i have set for my future – both in the short-term and the long-term, both work-related and personal. and after a bit of time, i found that there were several personal goals that i could set for myself.

the two goals that have seemed to make the most impact, or at least taken up an active space in my brain, and the following.

one. i would like to lose my inhibitions and
act more like a kid around my kids.

two. i would like to do a better job of living
in the moment.

setting goals in the past has often proved pointless as other things get in the way of fulfilling them or they are intentionally (or unintentionally) set to the side for a variety of reasons. but these are two that i would like to fulfill. and i’ve already started.

it was a warm, sunday evening and the faith community that i’m a part of was meeting at a local bandshell instead of its typical, weekly location. this was the second week that we had decided to meet outdoors and on this particular week, the staff had decided to rent one of those inflatable obstacle course/slide contraptions for the kids to use both before and after the worship experience. and they did. but a few of us adults decided that we needed to use it too.

so after the service ended, a group of us made our way over to this amazing piece of equipment and proceeded to race each other through the initial opening, interior obstacles, short climbing wall, and down the slide. we raced and we raced and we raced. and i won and i won and i won. i must have gone through that thing twenty to thirty times. the fact that i won really didn’t matter. it was the fact that i kept going through. running like crazy. flipping in the air. acquiring rug (plastic) burns along my arms. smiling and laughing the entire time. i didn’t care what people were thinking. i was having a blast. and i was living in the moment.

it may seem silly, but this was actually a powerful time for me. a time of redefining who i am. a time of letting go. a time of release. and the best part about it all was that i recognized that i was fulfilling two of my most recent goals.

yes, i was losing my inhibitions. yes, i was living in the moment. but more importantly, i was simply living. i was experiencing life in a deep and meaningful way.

may i continue to experience this life. may i continue to live. and may i enjoy it all.

autobiography in five short chapters

one.
i walk down the street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i fall in.
i am lost and i am helpless.
it isn’t my fault.
it takes forever to find a way out.

two.
i walk down the same street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i pretend i don’t see it.
i fall in again.
i can’t believe i am in the same place.
but it isn’t my fault.
it still takes a long time to get out.

three.
i walk down the same street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i see it there.
i still fall in.
it’s a habit.
my eyes are open.
i know where i am.
it is my fault.
i get out immediately.

four.
i walk down the same street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i walk around it.

five.
i walk down a different street.

author unknown

closure

“it’s important in life to conclude things properly. only then can you let go. otherwise, you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse.”
yann martel

tingle

the sun
kissed my
forehead
this morning
and i can
still feel
the tingle
of her lips.

stop shrugging

i’ve been thinking about how much i take for granted the compliments and encouraging words of those around me. it hit me this weekend while i allowed the munchkins to take turns riding in the front seat of our vehicle. it was an interesting thing to watch, as they explored all of their new surroundings and asked questions about which buttons did what. and then, there were moments where time seemed to literally stand still as they would look up at me, beaming with happiness, and grinning from ear to ear. it was precious.

i would compliment them often. and they would soak it in. it was great. but then it hit me. as i thought about this, i started to realize that way too often, when those closest to me are complimentary about my talents or gifts or creativity or whatever, i tend to shrug it off. it doesn’t take. or stick. or soak in. i often feel as if they are simply saying it because they feel like they are supposed to. it’s the right thing to do. it’s nice. the phrases, “they’re just being supportive” or “they’re just trying to encourage me” race through my mind. and yet when someone in my field of work (a complete stranger) compliments my abilities, i buy it, because i think that they are somehow more in tune with me. (this is where i stop and scratch my head.) why is that? why do we tend to listen to strangers and ignore those that are the closest to us.

well, all of these thoughts rambled through my brain and ended here...i hope that my daughters will always hear and believe the words of life that i speak into them. the words of encouragement. the words of support. may they always hear that they are incredible. that they are amazing. that they are fantastic creations who have the potential to do unbelievable things. and even though i am close to them, may they still believe it.

along life's way

i’m reading a book and thinking outside of the box. we are so divided – as people, genders, cultures, religions, etcetera. why? why are we so divided? do we get hung up on preferences? beliefs? opinions? desires? egos? too often, i’m distracted by things that don’t matter. i want to see the truth in everything. or at least take the time to search for it.

“we are all born like catholics, aren’t we – in limbo, without religion, until some figure introduces us to god? after that meeting the matter ends for most of us. if there is a change, it is usually for the lesser rather than the greater; many people seem to lose god along life’s way. that was not my case. the figure in question for me was an older sister of mother’s, of a more traditional mind, who brought me to a temple when i was a small baby. auntie rohini was delighted to meet her newborn nephew and she thought she would include mother goddess in the delight. ‘it will be his symbolic first outing,’ she said. ‘it’s a samskara!’ symbolic indeed. we were in madurai; i was the fresh veteran of a seven-hour train journey. no matter. off we went on this hindu rite of passage, mother carrying me, auntie propelling her. i have no conscious memory of this first go-around in a temple, but some smell of incense, some play of light and shadow, some flame, some burst of colour, something of the sultriness and mystery of the place must have stayed with me. a germ of religious exaltation, no bigger than a mustard seed, was sown in me and left to germinate. it has never stopped growing since that day.” yann martel

nothing

i attended a spiritual retreat back in november that focused primarily on slowing down – acknowledging that many of us have been consumed with movement and action and being busy. at the end of the retreat, we were encouraged to write something on a piece of paper, place it in a self-addressed envelope, and drop it in a basket. it would be mailed to us in a few months. i just received that letter today and this is what it said.

it’s okay to sit
in silence
and feel like
you’ve done
absolutely
nothing.
for in doing
nothing
for god,
you have
done more
with him
than you could
have ever
imagined.

perch

there’s a beautiful butterfly
that comes near
and then flutters away
as i wait patiently

i hold out my hand –
hopeful for the day
it will perch
on the tip of my finger

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

out of touch

i haven’t written much lately because i was recently laid off from the design position that i’ve held for the past eight-and-a-half years and have been looking diligently for a new one. it’s interesting, because six months ago i would have been freaking out and losing both my appetite and many beneficial hours of sleep. but i’ve been incredibly upbeat and positive. so far, so good. and yet today, i can feel a bit of discouragement setting in. i need to resist that.

so i’ve been out of touch for a bit. have you missed me?

unified by the source

“i offer you peace. i offer you love. i offer you friendship. i see your beauty. i hear your need. i feel your feelings. my wisdom flows from the highest source. i salute that source in you. let us work together for unity and love.”
gandhi

help me to stop getting hung up on the packaging, the labels, and the images of others. rather, help me to see the source, or the light, within.

love letter

“to write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written.”
jean jacques rousseau

i wish i could live my life like this. and i’m not even sure that i fully understand it.

needing to hear

i was at a target store with my daughters the other day and had a brief, but sweet conversation with the woman who helped to check us out. nothing deep, but the kind of conversation that moves beyond the surface and actually engages one another.

my oldest daughter observed this. and as i pushed our cart out of the store – with one munchkin sleeping and hunched over in the front and the other fully alert and observant, riding on the back – my oldest daughter said, “she was a nice woman.” and then she looked me dead in the eye and continued, ““you’re a nice man. no, you’re a fun man.”

my heart melted. and i asked, “why do you say that.”

she answered, “lots of dads are serious. they’re boring. but you take us places and spend time with us. you’re fun.”

thanks kiddo. you have no idea how much i need to hear that.

eager

deep within my being

there is a desire
to catch your eye
to behold your smile
to hear your voice

there is a longing
to engage you
to laugh with you
to know you

there is a penchant
to walk with you
to grasp your hand
to journey together

there is a compulsion
to give freely
to share perpetually
to love completely

a desire
a longing
a penchant
a compulsion

i’m eager to find you

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

all that remains

i received a book from my sister the other day entitled “white wave.” it’s an old chinese tale, written in the taoist tradition, about a “lonely chinese farmer who finds a snail shell gleaming in the moonlight. the shell transforms his life, for when he brings it home, he discovers it is the house of the beautiful moon goddess, white wave.”

in the story, the farmer discovers this wonderful gift and then loses it by spoiling it. after time, he is able to get one final glimpse, but eventually the gift ceases to exist and the farmer dies. the last page of the book reads, “when the old man died, the shell was lost. in time, the shrine, too, disappeared. all that remained was the story. but that is how it is with all of us: when we die, all that remains is the story.”

an interesting ending, and one that i agree with. although, it’s written in somewhat of a negative tone. the words “all that” imply that there needs to be more. and i don’t know that i completely agree with that. some leave good stories. and others leave bad ones. but we have the opportunity to leave behind our stories. hopefully, there are many positive vignettes within those stories – things and events and actions that were positive and impactful during our lives. but i also hope that the story itself (or the stories within the story) will be impactful for those that follow. that in some small way, it has the power and ability to be positive and impactful even after we’re gone.

now, back to the final statement. there is beauty in it. i just missed it the first time. the beauty is that the story actually “remains.” think about it...the story remains. it lives on. and is passed on.

may my story remain and not be forgotten.

break

i watched a movie entitled “invisible children” last evening. it was a documentary about the children of northern uganda who travel to the city each night to sleep. they are afraid of staying in their villages because the rebels have been known to abduct and abuse these children at night for their own purposes. in fact, many of these children have escaped previous abductions and not only hide during the night, but also hide during the day.

the entire movie had a great impact on me. but there was one scene in particular that captured my heart. there were a couple of boys (brothers) who were being interviewed. they were tired of the struggle. so much so that they professed their desire for death, rather than life under the current conditions. they would rather be dead. (i still need time to process that.) perhaps, they felt dead already.

and as they continued to reflect on their short lives, they were asked about their older brother. he had also been abducted, but was unable to escape, and was ultimately killed by the militia. one of the boys began to answer, keeping his composure, and looked primarily to the future. he talked about the possibility of a reencounter with his brother – perhaps in heaven. and he continued to keep his composure.

he had learned very quickly that the militia had no tolerance for emotional children who thought of home or family. in fact, often these children were made an example of and were killed in front of the others. jacob’s brother could have been one of those children. and jacob was expected to express nothing. he was not allowed to enter into his pain. so he kept his composure.

and then, he broke. and he wept. he wept like no one i have ever seen before.

i just sat there and watched jacob weep. there was nothing that i could do. i wanted to hold him. i wanted to sit with him. i wanted to cry with him. but most of all, i wanted to mirror him. i wanted to be able to burst – to allow myself to feel. i wanted to be uninhibited. i wanted to be authentic. i wanted to be pure.

jacob taught me an important lesson. he taught me that i don’t allow myself to break often enough. i need to break for others. and i need to break for myself. i want to learn how to do that. thank you jacob.

stand for change

i’ve been thinking a bit about change. change within myself. change within my community. change within the world. lofty idea, i know, to change the world and all, but i’ve been thinking about it. and i’m starting to wonder what is and isn’t my responsibility.

i understand that i am responsible for changing myself. i can make changes that will impact me. in fact, those changes have the potential to impact my community and my world as well. but i can’t make others change. and i can’t make the world change. so why do i try so hard sometimes.

when i think about some of the world’s greatest leaders, it occurs to me that they influenced change, but they never forced the change. they never made the change happen. there needed to be a willingness first on the part of that which they were hoping would change. gandhi didn’t change the mind of the british to grant india its freedom. the british had to make their own decision to do this. martin luther king, jr. didn’t change the mind of the united states to change its laws and position regarding civil rights. the united states government had to make their own decision. jesus didn’t change the mind of those who chose to follow his teachings. his followers had to decide for themselves.

too often, i try to convince. i try to persuade. i try to make the change happen. and i’m starting to realize that. it’s painful, but i need to acknowledge it. instead, i need to focus on myself. that does not mean that i sit around and do nothing. or that i make changes in my own personal life and distance myself from others – from my community or from my world. i am responsible for doing what is right.

so what does that mean? what does it mean to do right?

i think it starts by searching for the truth. without the truth, it’s hard to do anything right. we all possess an inherent sense of truth – or right and wrong. but there are also truths that we need to search for and discover outside of ourselves. or perhaps, more accurately, we need to be exposed to experiences and conversations and hardships and successes in order for the truth, that is already within us, to be revealed.

and then, i think we (i) are responsible for standing up – standing up for what we believe in. to stand up for what we believe to be the truth. when we see pain where there should be no pain, we stand up. when we see injustice where there should be no injustice, we stand up. when we see lies where there should be truth, we stand up. that is my responsibility – not to make the change, but simply to stand up. simple? not always. but easier to do than convince or persuade or force change. i can’t expect change. i can only hope for it. and by standing up for truth, at the very least, i am asking others to reevaluate. to reconsider. to think.

may my search for truth never end. may i always be changing that which lies within. and when i’m faced with anything that contradicts truth, may i always stand.

help me to remember

“when i despair, i remember that all through history, the way of truth and love has always won. there have been tyrants and murderers and for a time, they can seem invincible. but in the end, they always fall. think of it – always.”
mohandas gandhi

africa

africa has been on my mind for quite some time. but it’s also working its way into my heart.

i’ve been thinking about traveling to africa for several months now, but the plans are finally starting to come together. and i’m excited – so excited. my current plan is to travel to the congo (democratic republic) this summer for the purpose of leading several arts workshops for children. i would be working with a few friends, in conjunction with a local hospital, and would be providing a way for these young africans to express themselves through art – expressions of joy and hope and pain and despair.

these children and their families are dealing with some very troubling circumstances. and yet they are hopeful. rebels are killing men, women, and children. women and children are being raped. families are dealing with poverty, starvation, and disease. and the war continues. it’s a brutal war. but it’s more than just physical. it’s emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. it’s a war that continues even when the fighting stops. and yet, i’m excited to become a part of that. i have no intention of saving the day. no intention of solving problems. i simply want to walk along side of them – children and elders and all those in between. to sit with them. to learn from them. to grow with them. to listen to them. and to build relationships with them that will last a lifetime.

and i’m excited to see that there are others who want to walk with us as well – local organizations who want to brainstorm with us, dream with us, work with us, and support us. several organizations in minneapolis have invited us to meet with them to start a conversation about how they might become involved. we have several meetings on the horizon with art museums/galleries, a group of children’s hospitals, various arts organizations, and local immigrants. and i’m confident that there will be others.

i’m also making more personal connections. i have friends from zimbabwe, a friend from nigeria, a friend whose son-in-law is from gambia, friends living in south africa, friends who are moving to zambia, other friends from somewhere in africa, and daughters who attend school with classmates from both kenya and somalia. i’ve learned so much from these friends and i’m grateful for their presence in my life. they are making an impact.

africa is definitely on my mind. it’s working its way into my heart. and perhaps, it’s even working its way into my soul.

here’s a traditional african prayer that i love.
let us take care of the children, for they have a long way to go.
let us take care of the elders, for they have come a long way.
let us take care of those in between, for they are doing the work.

true friendship

“i will teach you all my foolishness.
and you must teach me yours.”
kasturba gandhi

thoreau for thought

here are a couple of statements that i read last evening from henry david thoreau. interesting food for thought.

talking about a way to live...“in any weather, at any hour of the day or night, i have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line.” oh, to live in the “nick of time.”

talking about progression and status and perceptions and reality...“while civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. it has created palaces, but it was not so easy to create noblemen and kings.” may i stop looking at the men who live in houses and start to look at the hearts that live in man.

son of adam

interesting thing happened to me this morning. just as i finished my morning shower, i slipped, and i fell backwards into the shower curtain. after a brief moment of support, the shower curtain gave way and we both came crashing down. on the way, we knocked over a small paint can full of rocks and a candle that were positioned on a nearby shelf. the can spilled over and the candle shattered into many, many pieces.

there we lay – naked, spilt, and shattered. and yet, i picked myself up, dealt with the mess, and continued on.

i couldn’t help but to think about the original fall of man. it all happened so fast – flat on his back, in a moment of disbelief. naked, with spilled hope and shattered dreams. and yet, he picked himself up, dealt with the mess, and continued on.

like father, like son.

move

here’s an adaptation of a statement that wyclef jean made in a recent interview. “justice is not accomplished through charity. it’s accomplished through movement. the world doesn’t need our charity. it needs our movement. it needs us to physically do something.”

and here are a few excerpts from the spring 0’two issue of colors magazine.

“ninety percent of all domestic workers worldwide are aged between twelve and seventeen.”

“fifty-two percent of u.s. fifteen-year-olds say it is difficult or very difficult to talk with their fathers.”

“the average age of a homeless person in the u.s. is nine years old.”

“six thousand girls aged between four and twelve undergo genital mutilation every day.”

“one million kids carry handguns to school each year in the u.s.a.”

“more than three hundred thousand children are involved in armed conflict in forty-one countries worldwide.”

“thirty-three percent of primary school-aged children in jakarta, indonesia, believe life is not worth living.”

“eighty percent of hiv-positive children under the age of fifteen live in africa.”

“at least eight-hundred seventy-five million adults are illiterate, two-thirds of them women.”

the world needs our movement. so, don’t just sit there. there is a need. and now that you know, you must choose your course of action. someone else will not take your place. they will take their own place while your’s remains vacant. it’s time to respond. it’s time to move.

one word

during my weekly sunday visit to the coffee shop of my choice, i noticed a word etched into the paper towel dispenser in the men’s bathroom. the word was “forgive.” and i started to think about the power of that one word. it’s stuck with me ever since.

i wondered what it would be like to place a word on the door of my dwelling place. one word. a word that i would see as i enter. and a word that i would see as i exit. the same word. but what would that word be? i like “forgive” because i need the reminder to do that – not only with myself and my children, but with others that i encounter throughout my day. and yet there are so many other words that have power. love. freedom. acceptance. goodness.

what is that one word?

spiritual molting

i’m starting to realize that i’m not satisfied. i’m not satisfied with who i am. i’m not satisfied with who i’ve become. i’m not satisfied with life. and i’m not satisfied with my faith. there is all of this stuff within me that just gets in the way. and yet there is something within me that is wanting to get out. it’s wanting to be set free. it’s wanting to be birthed anew.

i think my soul needs a good molting. i need to shed the old for something brand new. i need to rid myself of those areas of my life that are dead (or should be dead). i need to discard the unhealthy so that i can become healthy again. and i need to lose the skin that is keeping me from the growth that god has for me.

but i’m not sure how this works. what does it look like? what does it feel like? and how can i become content with the process. for i’m sure that once i shed that which is holding me back, the process will most likely start all over again.

there is something
within me
that is new
and fresh
but can’t be revealed
until that
which is dead –
which holds me,
robs me
restricts me –
is cast off
and left behind.

sharing wishes

the following are excerpts from the winter 0’five/0’six issue of colors magazine.

“i wish i had a machine that could make money.”
qing yan, twenty
prostitute, panyu, china

“i wish to be found.”
irwin cruz, thirty
journalist, madrid, spain

“papa beats me when i do something wrong. i wish he were more kind.”
jubel tamang, five
student, kathmandu, nepal

“if i could have both my hands back, i would be satisfied with that. my hands were chopped off at the very start of the war. i was the very first casualty of the war. after my hands were chopped off, i was sent back to freetown to give the message to the government.”
tamba ngaujah, forty-four
ex-soldier, freetown, sierra leone

“i wish that during our adult life we all had to experience one year minimum as a member of the opposite sex.”
ania jones, thirty-seven
office administrator, warsaw, poland

“i wish that major pharmaceutical groups were non-profit organizations.”
anne toulmonde, twenty-four
communication assistant, paris, france

“i live in a land of contrasts, where more than fifty percent of the population lives on less than u.s. one dollar a day, in a country that has the biggest market for mercedes benz cars. i wish for equality and compassion. equality in which people are more important than tribes, races and religion. compassion through which all people, regardless of differences, care about others and work toward improving the life of all.”
david hiscox, forty-four
managing director, nairobi, kenya

“i want to have sex with at least two girls from every tribe in uganda. so far i have covered about fifty-eight percent of them. after that i will consider myself a hero.”
chapman mutego, twenty-nine
male sex worker, busoga jinja, uganda

“i wish to take on another man’s color.”
alexandre calaque, thirty-two
poet, ile d’oleron, france
died in a car accident, november ‘05

“my wish isn’t so altruistic. i wish for a cure for aids so i wouldn’t already have three strikes against me when i’m dating.”
davide, thirty-nine
college professor, rome, italy
hiv positive for fourteen years

at first glance, one might see many differences between the types of people represented by these wishes. and isn’t it interesting how we tend to identify with those who speak words we agree with and then distance ourselves from those who speak words that we don’t. but it’s not really about the wishes. it’s about what these individuals believe that the wishes will bring – value, attention, love, wholeness, understanding, selflessness, justice, accomplishment, experience, and acceptance. and in that case, i can relate to all of these folks. the methods of achievement may be different, but the desires are the same.

i’m learning that judgment lives on the surface, while compassion lives in the depths. and that makes me want to go deeper with others. i want to plunge into the lives of those i encounter. to see past their wishes and to recognize their desires. and i want to plunge into my own life as well – to stop being so hard on myself. and to discover the real desires that are hiding beneath the surface.

beat down

there is this game or activity or whatever you may want to call it that i play with my daughters on my bed. or perhaps i should call it our “ring.” they request it often. it’s called a beat down.

the game basically consists of the girls standing on the bed, making intimidating movements and maneuvers, and shouting things like “tai kwan do” with conviction. their eyes are squinted and focused and they are ready to do battle. now, they know the whole time that when they attack, i will basically body slam them back onto the bed. but on occasion, they are able to elude my polished skills and tackle me (both of them working together). they pull me onto the bed and do whatever they can to keep me there. i let them have their satisfaction, and will play along for a bit, but when i’m ready to escape, all i need to do is tickle them. actually, i tickle the very life out of them. their laughter is uncontrollable. it’s spontaneous. it’s glorious. and i always win (at least from my perspective). they know i will win. which is a bit odd to me, because they hate to lose at most everything they pursue. but with this game, they don’t mind.

i wish that i could approach life this way. you know, staring it down with focus, knowing the whole time that i will most likely fail. and yet enjoying the experience. enjoying the body slams. enjoying the laughter. enjoying it all.

subtraction

i’ve recently realized that all of the effort i’ve been putting in to grow and evolve and change has been a huge waste of my time. i’ve been trying to “become” the person that i think i’m supposed to be. but it’s clear to me now, that i’ve been heading in the wrong direction. and i now realize that i need to turn around to discover who i was created to “be” thirty-four years ago instead - without all of the things that i've added. you see, i’ve added things to my life – unnecessary things – and they are blocking my ability to see who i really am.

i’ve always thought that we go through life – with all of it’s joys and pains and trials and successes and experiences – so that we can be shaped into who god really wants us to become. but the more i think about it, the more i’m convinced that i’ve been wrong. dead wrong.

life’s experiences were never meant to shape us into the men and women that god wanted us to become. he already created us just as he wanted us to be. no, life’s experiences were meant to help us realize who we really are.

so, what is my purpose in life? to be the person that god created me to be. it’s not about using all of the things that i’ve acquired. talents i’ve learned. knowledge i’ve added. formulas i’ve developed. it’s not about me making myself better. why? because god has already given me the tools that i need to live a purposeful life. and he’ll reveal them in his own timing. all i need to do is to use what he has given me. and that encourages me. in fact, it makes life seem a bit easier. less pressure and lower expectations.

we are creatures with a natural bent towards our creator. we don’t need to blaze a trail. we don’t need to leave a legacy. we don’t really need to do anything. we can just “be.” and in that “being,” god will transform us. not into something different, but back into the person that he originally created.

as i write this, i’m reminded of one of jesus’ teachings, when he talked about entering the kingdom of heaven. he said that unless we become like the children that surrounded him, it would be really, really hard to enter the kingdom.

why?

because they were thinking and feeling and acting just as god had created them to be. they hadn’t had the opportunity to add all kinds of meaningless things to their lives – emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and physical habits – that had become distractions. they were willing to listen. they were willing to submit. they were willing to admit that they couldn’t do it on their own. they were raw. and they were pure. they were following the cues of their souls. and they were exactly as their creator had made them. exactly as their creator had intended.

i’m tired of having to push things out of the way to get to my soul. and i hope that i can begin the process of subtraction – of eliminating those things that tend to block my way.

falling

a close friend invited me to attend a play yesterday and i think it may have been the highlight of my entire year. it was amazing and i’m still working through its impact on my thoughts, actions, feelings – its impact on my life. the production was entitled “the night thoreau spent in jail” and it highlighted not only this particular night, but also his life and his relationship with his mentor, ralph waldo emerson. if webster’s were to define “out of the box,” they may do so by placing henry david thoreau’s photo next to the description. this man was incredible.

several statements from the production have become top of mind for me, but there is one that i’ve been working through over the past sixteen hours or so.

after a few interactions, henry and his brother john have both become intrigued and interested in a woman named ellen. and as henry discusses his brother’s love for ellen – with ellen – it is apparent that she has not been impressed. she was not impressed with john’s presentation, or more specifically, with his words (or lack thereof). in fact, at one point, she says that he hardly spoke. and that’s when henry responded. with both passion and compassion in his voice, he said, “you missed the eloquence of his silence.”

and at that very moment, my soul fell silent.

the play continued.

but i just sat there.

silent.

what am i missing?

and in my striving so hard not to miss things, am i missing everything?

(pause.)

has there been too much noise in my life?

in my soul?

(long pause.)

no more.

no more work. no more effort.

my soul knows.

my soul knows what it needs. it knows what it wants. it knows how to act.

why don’t i let it?

(pause.)

there is something so pure and sound and whole in the silence.

(pause.)

may my soul – today – fall silent again.

questions today

“to understand is hard.
once one understand,
action is easy.”
sun yet-sen, chinese politician

do i understand my faith?
and is my faith active?

webster’s dictionary defines “understand” this way:
a: to grasp the meaning of
b: to grasp the reasonableness of
c: to have thorough or technical acquaintance with or expertness in the practice of
d: to be thoroughly familiar with the character and propensities of

to understand takes time. and diligence. and effort. and i don’t know that i put enough energy into truly understanding all that faith is. all that faith encompasses. all that faith has to offer. and yet, i don’t think it’s so much about the energy that i put in (or the work). rather, it’s the willingness to sit still enough to let god reveal the understanding that i seek – effortless on my part and in his perfect timing – when he knows that i’m ready.

i often think that man lives a backwards life. (i live a backwards life.) we tend to do the opposite of what was intended. we get confused and distracted and don’t always recognize what we are doing or why we are doing it. and we live in bondage more often than we live in freedom. for example, we tend to be moving way too much. in fact, we move and move and move until we are so exhausted that we need to rest. we need to sit still in order to recover. but what if we actually sat still before we began to move? what if in our stillness, we were actually preparing to move with purpose? what if we shifted things around a bit?

i do agree with sun yet-sen. action will follow understanding. and it will be easier because you will know why you are doing what you do. your actions will have purpose. but i think there is a step or two before one can fully understand. and if i were to rewrite his words, i think i would write them something like this...

“to sit still is hard.
once one sit, one can listen.
once one listen, one will understand.
and once one understand,
one will act.
the action will have purpose.
and the action will be easy.”
sun yet-sen and kris e. lindquist

so again i ask,
do i understand my faith?
and is my faith active?
but perhaps those are the wrong questions.

perhaps i should be asking,
am i willing to sit still?
and am i willing to listen?

my bent

"in its essential soundness,
the soul knows
no effort toward god;
the love of god
is the quietly predominant
bent of our nature.”

© rainer maria rilke

untitled

you invited me
to join the circus
today.
i smiled.
and i imagined
my life
as a clown –
tripping over
my oversized shoes –
and enjoying
the fall.

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

a leader without a home

i passed by a homeless man yesterday and the sign he held in his hands caught my attention. it said, “homeless. running for president. he has the job i want.”

and immediately i began to think about the idea of such a person running our country. what a refreshing thought. a man who probably had a better idea of community than most of us. a man who would be more concerned about caring and providing for others rather than pleasing them. a man who could identify with the urgency of life’s needs – understanding the differences between necessity and desire. a man who had set aside his pride (days, weeks, months, or years ago) to stand on a busy street corner and ask for help. a man full of life experiences.

refreshing.

and what a great example for the rest of us. i viewed him as a leader that we could all admire and look up to.

then i thought about another leader i’ve heard of. one who walked and talked and healed and listened and cared for and nurtured and taught and loved all those he encountered. and i remembered that he was also without a home.

floating

there’s this thought that floats within my head
that life will get easier one day
at least that’s what i say and pray
but test and trial come instead.

whole

a few friends and i went to see the movie “transamerica” a little over a week ago, and i am still processing all that i took in. here is a synopsis of the movie.

“bree is a perfectly adjusted conservative transsexual woman. born stanley, a genetic male, she’s about to take the final step to becoming the woman stanley always wanted to be – until she finds out that she is the parent of a long-lost seventeen year-old son, toby. toby is a drug-addled hustler living on the streets of new york city, dreaming of meeting the father he never knew. afraid to tell the rebellious teenager the truth, bree embarks on a journey with him that will challenge and change both their lives and bring them closer to the truth of their connection.”

needless to say that the movie was deep – filled with a variety of scenarios and situations that i can’t even imagine having to deal with. and i found myself walking away with a variety of thoughts, questions, and emotions.

in just two hours, i had been exposed to the following.

a man living his life as a woman
a man preparing to become a woman (surgically)
a man struggling to find happiness
a man dealing with the surprise of being a parent
a man rejected by his family for choices he had made
a man trying to hide the truth
a man ashamed of himself
a man looking for acceptance
a man trying to do the right thing as a father

a boy living his life as a hustler (prostitute)
a boy trying to escape reality by using drugs
a boy using sex as a means of finding value
a boy looking for acceptance
a boy seeking a father
a boy struggling with right versus wrong
a boy searching for happiness
a boy desiring more

so, here were some of my initial thoughts. why would stanley want to change his genetic makeup? why would toby sell his body and allow himself to be used by others? what experiences had each of these guys gone through or been exposed to (over the course of their lives) that had led them to the present? why couldn’t stanley and toby find worth in who they already were and who they were created to be? their choices seemed so drastic. what were they doing? they seemed so different than me. or were they?

you see, stanley and toby were broken. and they were looking for ways to fill those broken areas of their lives. and guess what? i do the exact same thing. aren’t we all broken? and aren’t we all guilty of wanting to change who we really are, because we aren’t happy? we think that we are capable of fixing the problem, but we’re not. we get confused and seem to focus on changing the wrong things. the solution is not to change who we are. the solution is to recognize and change who we are not. we need to embrace who we are and then eliminate those things that have found their way into our lives and corrupted us into becoming men and women that we were never intended to be. we need to get back to living the lives that we were created for.

we struggle with this because we are all broken. we’ve all been broken. and we will all be broken in the future. why? because we live in a broken world. what we really want is to feel whole. that’s what stanley wanted. that’s what toby wanted. they wanted to feel whole. stanley thought that life as a woman would make him feel whole. toby thought that love would make him feel whole. but changing who we are will not make us feel whole. it will simply make us feel like someone else who is still broken.

so, what do we do? what do i do? well, i think it starts with acceptance – accepting who we are, right now. we are broken. we are hurting. we are confused. we are wanting. we are seeking. and then we need to be willing to admit that we can’t fix those things on our own. we aren’t capable. we get too distracted. we spend too much time looking at others (and what they have), instead of looking within and identifying what it is that we really need. the good news is that our creator knows what we need. and if we let him, he can “fix” us. he can “fill” us. he can make us feel whole. and he does this by showing us how to love ourselves for who we really are.

i want to feel whole. but it goes beyond me. i want the stanleys and tobys of this world to feel whole too.

perspective

my life is a lot like a splotch.
some days it looks like a stain
and others,
an amazing work of art.

the way

faith seems much more
like an unfinished piece of art
than a slick and pretty picture –
with many bits
and pieces of truth
being added (one by one)
along the way.

journey

my journey is not from left to right
from north to south
rather, it’s from inward to outward.

dying to live

another poem by walt whitman caught my attention last night. and the message was pretty clear. parts of me need to die in order to fully live. parts of me have died, but parts of me still need to pass on – without lament.

o living always – always dying

o living always—always dying!
o the burials of me, past and present!
o me, while i stride ahead,
material, visible, imperious as ever!
o me, what i was for years, now dead,
(i lament not – i am content;)
o to disengage myself
from those corpses of me,
which i turn and look at,
where i cast them!
to pass on, (o living! always living!)
and leave the corpses behind!

© walt whitman

integrity

a friend challenged a group of us over the weekend to spend some time thinking about the existence of integrity in our lives. and to think about whether or not we are actually pursuing integrity. according to webster’s dictionary, integrity is the idea of being incorruptible, sound, and complete (or undivided). i like that idea and i like the idea of being that kind of person, but i can hear a voice in my head saying, “you? good luck. you’re a broken-down, mess of a man who fails all of the time. do you really think...”

okay, so is it even possible?

i want to be a man of integrity, but by definition, it seems unattainable and something that perhaps, can only be pursued. in fact, i think it would be highly arrogant of me to think that i could ever be incorruptible. i think it would be foolish of me to think that i will always remain sound. and to think that i could ever be complete is unfathomable. and so my immediate reaction is that i can’t be that which i want to be – game over, let the sulking begin. and yet i know people who i consider to be living lives of integrity. so how does this all work?

here are a few thoughts.

integrity is not perfection. integrity is not the “little picture.” and integrity does not focus on short-comings. no one is incorruptible, sound, or undivided (regardless of appearances.) we are all human and we all make mistakes. but we can’t dwell on those mistakes and forget the good that surrounds them. we need to evaluate integrity in the larger picture of a person’s life – where we step back and look at chunks of time rather than slivers. where we look at track records instead of individual races. where we look at seasons instead of moments. i do that (or at least i try to do that). it may be inconsistent from person to person, but i’m working on it. here is a scary reality though. i find it a lot easier to evaluate others within this context of flexibility than i do myself. i can say “i do that” with others, but do i do it with myself? not often. for some reason, i hold myself to a higher (almost unattainable) standard, with unimaginable expectations. why do i do that? i expect so much from myself and often find that i’m living under this shadow of darkness – keeping me from the life of integrity that god desires for me.

there needs to be grace.

this friend went on to talk about how large a role “shame” plays in keeping us from a life of integrity. we want to look good on the outside and yet we are falling apart on the inside. our inner selves and outer selves are divided. and we are ashamed of revealing the truth – of letting people see our reality. the shame that we feel (and hold onto) overpowers the grace that god has for us. lauryn hill (on one of her albums) talks about the differences between fantasy and reality. and the reality is that we all have issues. we all have things in our lives that we are ashamed of. she says that we are all in the same boat, dealing with the same stuff. and yet we continue to put on a show because we are afraid to admit to others that we don’t have it all together. we are afraid to admit the truth and through grace, find comfort in that truth. why? because we have accepted a lie. we have accepted the idea that there are some people who do have it all together. and that’s just not true. no one has it all together. they have simply found a way to mask their pain, their brokenness, and their shame.

it’s time to lose the shame in your game. or is it lose the game in your shame?

it’s a bit odd to me because as i tried to identify those areas of my life that i was ashamed of, i couldn’t. that’s not to say that there aren’t things in my life that shouldn’t be there or that discourage me (or perhaps that i’m not admitting), but for the most part, i can’t really find anything that i’m ashamed of. wait, that’s not true. there are things that i’m ashamed of, but i’m not ashamed of who i am. i am who i am. and i’m okay with that – broken and all. and i think that there is a great deal of integrity in that. one of webster’s definitions for corrupt is “to alter from the original or correct form or version.” interesting, don’t you think? by acknowledging the true me, i am actually being the opposite of corrupt. and i find soundness and unity in that. that would make me a man of integrity. that would make me the kind of man that i didn’t think i could become. that would mean that integrity is attainable.

one final thought. i think we are all concerned about how others perceive us – the real us, the inner us. so we try to fix all of our imperfections. we fail, we fall short, and we often screw the whole thing up. and our immediate reaction is to get out the tools and patch the cracks. we think that we should fix them in order to look more appealing. but what if the cracks are simply a way of letting the inner integrity in all of us spill out? what if it’s actually the mistakes and failures that reveal integrity (rather than the lack of them)? now there’s a thonder.