It's the end of the second day of the workshop--right on schedule where we should be in the material. Tomorrow we finally stop going backwards and move toward the future. The first two days are all about clearing away the stuff in the background in order to create a clearing from which to create a future that wouldn't happen anyway. Tomorrow is always exciting for the participants, and for us....
Where we're staying doesn't have a cafeteria so we take all meals out. But we're right between the University of Chicago and the Catholic Theological Union so there are any number of good places to eat. Last night we had dinner in a glorified diner: Ann Overton and I had biscuits and sausage gravy and fried green tomatoes...I also had grits. Imagine such a wondrous southern meal in the upper reaches of the mid-west! And it was as good as I've had anywhere. What a find--a place for gravy and biscuits that is open 24 hours.
Tonight, John Ibel treated us to a really fine Italian Restaurant. I had some of the best salmon I've ever eaten with shrimp and scallops still in the shell with sun-dried tomatoes and olives and mushrooms and spinach mashed potatoes. There was enough left that I brought it home for lunch tomorrow. The last two days for lunch I've had soft shell crab salad and shrimp spring rolls for a Thia place a couple of blocks away. Today I also had some muscles on rice noodles with a warm green curry sauce. Who knew Chicago was a seafood gem?
(Enough about food already--leading the Making a Difference Workshop works up an appetite....)
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Chicago
Flying on 9/11 was a bit eerie. Waiting for my flight at Bradley, the entire airport was asked to observe a minute of silence at the time the first plane hit the World Trade Center. I didn't realize how chaotic, loud and full of frenetic movement the airport around me had been until everyone stopped moving and talking for a minute--a long minute.
The trip out was interrupted by a layover in Detroit. In fact, I spent more time in Detroit's airport than in the air the whole day! Two and a half hours in Detroit, two hours and 25 minutes flying. But, luckily, it's a nice airport.
I few to Midway where John Ible, who put together the workshop, picked me up. We're at the Catholic Theological Union in Hyde Park, just three blocks from Lake Michigan. I'm in a large room with bath on the 9th floor--a little high for me given my issues with heights, but as long as I stay a couple of feet from the windows, I'm fine.
The workshop has 29 participants--just about the perfect size. Most are RC religious of some ilk--not unusual since the workshops tend to reflect the producers and John did it all himself and he's a Maryknoll priest.
I couldn't get on line Thursday and much of Friday until I looked at the small envelope my room key and card to get into the building came in--there was the name and password I was to use printed clearly!
Will write more later.
The trip out was interrupted by a layover in Detroit. In fact, I spent more time in Detroit's airport than in the air the whole day! Two and a half hours in Detroit, two hours and 25 minutes flying. But, luckily, it's a nice airport.
I few to Midway where John Ible, who put together the workshop, picked me up. We're at the Catholic Theological Union in Hyde Park, just three blocks from Lake Michigan. I'm in a large room with bath on the 9th floor--a little high for me given my issues with heights, but as long as I stay a couple of feet from the windows, I'm fine.
The workshop has 29 participants--just about the perfect size. Most are RC religious of some ilk--not unusual since the workshops tend to reflect the producers and John did it all himself and he's a Maryknoll priest.
I couldn't get on line Thursday and much of Friday until I looked at the small envelope my room key and card to get into the building came in--there was the name and password I was to use printed clearly!
Will write more later.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
going again
I'm flying out of Bradley Airport (my own personal airport!) tomorrow at 11:10 am to got to Chicago to help lead a Making A Difference Workshop (those of us involved call it MAD).
I wish I could figure out how many workshops I've helped lead over the last (what is it?) 25 years or so. But I can't. A lot, I know.
It is one of the things that convinces me that who I 'be' is who I am meant to 'be'. I love doing it. It never gets old. And 'the workshop works', as we leaders remind ourselves over and again--in spite of our limitations.
It is a workshop about ontology--the study of 'being'...as opposed to 'doing' or 'having'. It is for people in ministry--it doesn't matter which kind (ordained, lay, tangential) so long as the participant thinks of what they do as 'ministry'. I think everyone in this Chicago workshop (25 last I heard) is a Christian. There is a richness that is added when we have folks of other faiths involved--but, never mind, all will be well.
Most of the participants will be Roman Catholic, since it was put together by a Maryknoll priest. The Mastery Foundation 'delivers' the workshop, but people on the ground have to put it together. So, the folks who put it together usually determine who's in it.
All three of the leaders are Episcopalians, oddly enough. That's seldom true. Ann, the Executive Director of the Foundation, is an Episcopal lay person. I'm an Episcopal priest and Shane, the newest leader, is both an Episcopal priest and a member of a monastic order. Luckily, Episcopalians understand Roman Catholics better than most of them understand themselves. There was some concern that Shane--woman, a priest and a monastic--might confuse some of the RC's. I personally think the women RC's will be fascinated with her and the men will 'get her' because she's a monastic.
It should be great fun. What is the most fun is to see the 'transformation' occur for the participants. MAD uses centering prayer and 'transformational technology' in equal doses. It simply runs together at some point.
Watching people find 'transformation' in their lives in ministry is about as good as it gets because you know that, because they're in 'ministry', their transformation is going to touch hundreds of people and rub off in many ways.
How great is that?
I wish I could figure out how many workshops I've helped lead over the last (what is it?) 25 years or so. But I can't. A lot, I know.
It is one of the things that convinces me that who I 'be' is who I am meant to 'be'. I love doing it. It never gets old. And 'the workshop works', as we leaders remind ourselves over and again--in spite of our limitations.
It is a workshop about ontology--the study of 'being'...as opposed to 'doing' or 'having'. It is for people in ministry--it doesn't matter which kind (ordained, lay, tangential) so long as the participant thinks of what they do as 'ministry'. I think everyone in this Chicago workshop (25 last I heard) is a Christian. There is a richness that is added when we have folks of other faiths involved--but, never mind, all will be well.
Most of the participants will be Roman Catholic, since it was put together by a Maryknoll priest. The Mastery Foundation 'delivers' the workshop, but people on the ground have to put it together. So, the folks who put it together usually determine who's in it.
All three of the leaders are Episcopalians, oddly enough. That's seldom true. Ann, the Executive Director of the Foundation, is an Episcopal lay person. I'm an Episcopal priest and Shane, the newest leader, is both an Episcopal priest and a member of a monastic order. Luckily, Episcopalians understand Roman Catholics better than most of them understand themselves. There was some concern that Shane--woman, a priest and a monastic--might confuse some of the RC's. I personally think the women RC's will be fascinated with her and the men will 'get her' because she's a monastic.
It should be great fun. What is the most fun is to see the 'transformation' occur for the participants. MAD uses centering prayer and 'transformational technology' in equal doses. It simply runs together at some point.
Watching people find 'transformation' in their lives in ministry is about as good as it gets because you know that, because they're in 'ministry', their transformation is going to touch hundreds of people and rub off in many ways.
How great is that?
Sunday, September 7, 2014
The adventurous trip home...
The Hampton Inn in Stofford/Aquita, Virginia--some 30 miles north of Richmond--is the midway point between Connecticut and Oak Island. 361 miles from Oak Island and 363 miles from Connecticut. Can't get more 'half-way' than that.
So that's where we stop going and coming, to break up what would be a 12 hour journey straight through.
Since we left the beach early, we got to the motel around 4, though, since we are all over 60, we stop to pee quite often....
After an early dinner, the plan was to leave around 6 a.m. so there would be plenty of time for me to pick up Bela at the Kennel between four and five. And so we did and somewhere in Maryland, John's GPS was predicting we'd get to New Haven, where our car was, around one p.m. All was well and all was well and all manner of things were well.
We stopped in Maryland to get coffee and pee and then again around mile 80 of the New Jersey Turnpike to pee and get a light snack, it still being well before noon. Five miles later, adventure began!
(I could have called this post, "the trip home from hell"--which, if you look at it cynically, it certainly could have been. But cynicism is a dead end that is a hell all itself. I prefer to find 'adventure' rather than tragedy in the vicissitudes of life. You can't avoid them, after all, so why make a big fat 'drama' out of them when it's just as easily seen as something out of an action/adventure movie?)
At mile post 85.5 of the NJ Turnpike, the serpentine belt of John's Land Rover broke and failed. I remember the exact place because we were suddenly on a shoulder of the Turnpike that barely contained the Land Rover and from the front seat passenger seat I was staring at the mile marker. John called AAA and was told they couldn't service breakdowns on the Turnpike but transferred him to the Turnpike Authority that dispatched a truck that arrived within 20 minutes. The driver was delightful and packed Bern, Sherry, John and me into his cab for the two exit ride to what I believe was Perth Amboy, NJ, though I have no comprehension of NJ geography. He set John's car down in a shopping center where AAA could come and get it.
The second tow truck arrived within half-an-hour and was going to tow John's car to his mechanic in New Haven. John has super-duper AAA service and the 105 mile tow as going to cost him only $12! Someone had to ride with the driver and John suggested I go since I would get to New Haven and my car in time to go get the dog.
Andrew, another friend in New Haven, agreed to drive to Perth Amboy and pick up the other three folks from the deserted island of a Walmart shopping center. (Imagine that--Andrew agreed, without hesitation, to drive 2 hours + to pick up the stranded adventurers! That is a friend indeed, perhaps a saint for the lost castaways....)
So, Jim the tow truck driver (actually it was a flatbed truck, not a truck with and hook) and I sat off on the next stage of the adventure. We doubtless passed Andrew going the other way but never knew it ('ships in the night/adventure' and all that).
Jim and I enjoyed the ride and I got to New Haven at 3:15 where Jack, Sherrie's husband (another friend indeed) picked me up at John's mechanics and helped me move the luggage from the Land Rover to Jack's aging Volvo and take the luggage and me to Jack's, where my car waited.
I got to the dog in plenty of time and after he almost knocked me down with gratitude for his rescue we went home to wait for Andrew's rescued souls.
I got home at five and Andrew got the crew of wrecked ship "Land Rover" back to New Haven a short time after. (Bern told me he actually thanked them for 'the adventure' since he was reading some Yale graduate student papers and couldn't wait to drive to Perth Amboy and back....a saint-in-waiting, at least.)
So I drove down to New Haven and got Bern and we came home--just like those two pigeons in the last two posts...we came home.
The dog is 'home' and the cat and the bird (cared for while we were gone by our high school senior next door neighbor, were there already, waiting for Bern and me).
I have a real affinity to our two North Carolina pigeons. Home is where you feel safe, where they have to love you, where you are meant to sit down and BE. Just that...'be'.
The adventure is over. We will tell the tale to ourselves and others over and again as the years pass--embellishing greatly, all taking credit for great calmness in adversity, each of us, in our own way, sharing a bit of the limelight of hero and heroine.
What a way to 'come home'!
And how good it is to 'be here', at last, 'at home'.....
So that's where we stop going and coming, to break up what would be a 12 hour journey straight through.
Since we left the beach early, we got to the motel around 4, though, since we are all over 60, we stop to pee quite often....
After an early dinner, the plan was to leave around 6 a.m. so there would be plenty of time for me to pick up Bela at the Kennel between four and five. And so we did and somewhere in Maryland, John's GPS was predicting we'd get to New Haven, where our car was, around one p.m. All was well and all was well and all manner of things were well.
We stopped in Maryland to get coffee and pee and then again around mile 80 of the New Jersey Turnpike to pee and get a light snack, it still being well before noon. Five miles later, adventure began!
(I could have called this post, "the trip home from hell"--which, if you look at it cynically, it certainly could have been. But cynicism is a dead end that is a hell all itself. I prefer to find 'adventure' rather than tragedy in the vicissitudes of life. You can't avoid them, after all, so why make a big fat 'drama' out of them when it's just as easily seen as something out of an action/adventure movie?)
At mile post 85.5 of the NJ Turnpike, the serpentine belt of John's Land Rover broke and failed. I remember the exact place because we were suddenly on a shoulder of the Turnpike that barely contained the Land Rover and from the front seat passenger seat I was staring at the mile marker. John called AAA and was told they couldn't service breakdowns on the Turnpike but transferred him to the Turnpike Authority that dispatched a truck that arrived within 20 minutes. The driver was delightful and packed Bern, Sherry, John and me into his cab for the two exit ride to what I believe was Perth Amboy, NJ, though I have no comprehension of NJ geography. He set John's car down in a shopping center where AAA could come and get it.
The second tow truck arrived within half-an-hour and was going to tow John's car to his mechanic in New Haven. John has super-duper AAA service and the 105 mile tow as going to cost him only $12! Someone had to ride with the driver and John suggested I go since I would get to New Haven and my car in time to go get the dog.
Andrew, another friend in New Haven, agreed to drive to Perth Amboy and pick up the other three folks from the deserted island of a Walmart shopping center. (Imagine that--Andrew agreed, without hesitation, to drive 2 hours + to pick up the stranded adventurers! That is a friend indeed, perhaps a saint for the lost castaways....)
So, Jim the tow truck driver (actually it was a flatbed truck, not a truck with and hook) and I sat off on the next stage of the adventure. We doubtless passed Andrew going the other way but never knew it ('ships in the night/adventure' and all that).
Jim and I enjoyed the ride and I got to New Haven at 3:15 where Jack, Sherrie's husband (another friend indeed) picked me up at John's mechanics and helped me move the luggage from the Land Rover to Jack's aging Volvo and take the luggage and me to Jack's, where my car waited.
I got to the dog in plenty of time and after he almost knocked me down with gratitude for his rescue we went home to wait for Andrew's rescued souls.
I got home at five and Andrew got the crew of wrecked ship "Land Rover" back to New Haven a short time after. (Bern told me he actually thanked them for 'the adventure' since he was reading some Yale graduate student papers and couldn't wait to drive to Perth Amboy and back....a saint-in-waiting, at least.)
So I drove down to New Haven and got Bern and we came home--just like those two pigeons in the last two posts...we came home.
The dog is 'home' and the cat and the bird (cared for while we were gone by our high school senior next door neighbor, were there already, waiting for Bern and me).
I have a real affinity to our two North Carolina pigeons. Home is where you feel safe, where they have to love you, where you are meant to sit down and BE. Just that...'be'.
The adventure is over. We will tell the tale to ourselves and others over and again as the years pass--embellishing greatly, all taking credit for great calmness in adversity, each of us, in our own way, sharing a bit of the limelight of hero and heroine.
What a way to 'come home'!
And how good it is to 'be here', at last, 'at home'.....
The birdies, redux
I packed my laptop on Friday afternoon so I didn't get to tell you about the return of the pigeons.
I thought I'd seen the pigeons up on the roof of the house during the day but, as it is, one pigeon looks pretty much like another.
But 4 of us were out reading in the gazebo about 5 pm and., lo and behold, they came back to their spot on the banister of the gazebo! Bern tried giving them crackers and grapes and watermelon, which they equally ignored though they let her get right beside them to off them the food. After our dinner, their mom came to feed them on the gazebo roof. They followed her around and generally annoyed her until she finished her task and flew away.
Back to their 'home' on the banister they came and spent the night huddled together even through a monsoon type rain at about 5:30 that woke most of us up.
They were gone when we left at 8:30 or so to head out--Mimi and Tim to Williamsburg and the rest of us to our midway motel in Stofford/Aquita, Virginia.
I don't worry about them as much as yesterday and the day before, but I do wonder how many days they'll come back to the gazebo banister before they move on.
And I hope they stay together, whenever they find a new 'home'. I think of them as brother and sister since one is slightly smaller than the other. But who knows about the gender of pigeons....
I thought I'd seen the pigeons up on the roof of the house during the day but, as it is, one pigeon looks pretty much like another.
But 4 of us were out reading in the gazebo about 5 pm and., lo and behold, they came back to their spot on the banister of the gazebo! Bern tried giving them crackers and grapes and watermelon, which they equally ignored though they let her get right beside them to off them the food. After our dinner, their mom came to feed them on the gazebo roof. They followed her around and generally annoyed her until she finished her task and flew away.
Back to their 'home' on the banister they came and spent the night huddled together even through a monsoon type rain at about 5:30 that woke most of us up.
They were gone when we left at 8:30 or so to head out--Mimi and Tim to Williamsburg and the rest of us to our midway motel in Stofford/Aquita, Virginia.
I don't worry about them as much as yesterday and the day before, but I do wonder how many days they'll come back to the gazebo banister before they move on.
And I hope they stay together, whenever they find a new 'home'. I think of them as brother and sister since one is slightly smaller than the other. But who knows about the gender of pigeons....
Friday, September 5, 2014
The Birdies...
Yesterday, in the early afternoon, two fledgling pigeons landed on the deck railing of the little gazebo near the steps down to the sand, and didn't leave. From time to time, one or the other of them would flutter up to the roof the the structure and flap around confused. They must have come from a nest hidden up there and couldn't figure out how to get into it. We'd seen older pigeons fly up there and disappear.
So the two of then sat on the railing. They were so young that they had no fear of us and one walked right up to where Mimi was sitting and seemed to be trying to communicate something. All afternoon and into the evening, they stayed there, huddled together most of the time, waiting...for what I don't know.
Bern gave them a bowl of water and they seemed as content as pigeons get what with their head bowing and all. Siblings, I'm sure, and staying close together.
The reason you never see 'baby' pigeons is that they stay in the nest longer than most any other bird. These two obviously weren't used to being out too much and hung around until it was totally dark. I went to be about 11 and they were still there, wing to wing, cooing softly.
This morning they were gone--some instinct clicked in and they must have flown away together.
Just a few minutes ago, sitting on the deck, I looked up to the roof of the house and saw several pigeons sitting there, as they are wont to do. The two to the right, I was sure, were our two birds, smaller than the others and sitting nestled against each other.
I started to point them out to everyone but I had fretted about the two birds more than anyone and thought the other humans would think I was getting soft in the head if I kept catching glimpses of those two birds.
Tomorrow we leave and drive north. By this time (3:30 or so) we'll be well into Virginia and looking for the exit for out motel. Sunday, we'll be home. Those two pigeons, if God is kind, will still be here, growing up.
I'll think of them from time to time. But even I am not sentimental enough to imagine they might think of me....
So the two of then sat on the railing. They were so young that they had no fear of us and one walked right up to where Mimi was sitting and seemed to be trying to communicate something. All afternoon and into the evening, they stayed there, huddled together most of the time, waiting...for what I don't know.
Bern gave them a bowl of water and they seemed as content as pigeons get what with their head bowing and all. Siblings, I'm sure, and staying close together.
The reason you never see 'baby' pigeons is that they stay in the nest longer than most any other bird. These two obviously weren't used to being out too much and hung around until it was totally dark. I went to be about 11 and they were still there, wing to wing, cooing softly.
This morning they were gone--some instinct clicked in and they must have flown away together.
Just a few minutes ago, sitting on the deck, I looked up to the roof of the house and saw several pigeons sitting there, as they are wont to do. The two to the right, I was sure, were our two birds, smaller than the others and sitting nestled against each other.
I started to point them out to everyone but I had fretted about the two birds more than anyone and thought the other humans would think I was getting soft in the head if I kept catching glimpses of those two birds.
Tomorrow we leave and drive north. By this time (3:30 or so) we'll be well into Virginia and looking for the exit for out motel. Sunday, we'll be home. Those two pigeons, if God is kind, will still be here, growing up.
I'll think of them from time to time. But even I am not sentimental enough to imagine they might think of me....
No more Mister Nice Ocean
For most of the time we've been here, the Atlantic has been rather like and endless lake with one or two foot waves. This morning it turned ugly.
Some storm far out at sea or a ten mile an hour increase in the wind from the south--which ever--there have been 3 to 5 foot whitecaps crashing one after another as the tide comes in.
The ocean giveth and the ocean taketh away....
Some storm far out at sea or a ten mile an hour increase in the wind from the south--which ever--there have been 3 to 5 foot whitecaps crashing one after another as the tide comes in.
The ocean giveth and the ocean taketh away....
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