Cloudy is no problem for me, means I can sit on my deck all day and read.
I read a book today and started another. On sunny days there are a few hours the deck is not available and I have to sit on the porch, chairs not as comfortable.
There seem to be more birds than usual. Some robin babies in a tree in our yard--a bush, mostly. But you can't get near them because the dad and mom dive bomb you. Tiger parents can be robins.
And the temperature couldn't be better. In the 50's tonight as for most nights this week. No AC in our lives yet.
What a lovely June day. Couldn't be better, I don't think.
Lovely.
Like my life--reading almost constantly, eating well, three creatures and a wife I love. What could be wrong about that???
Plus, two more clowns for the car: Lincoln Chaffee for the Democrats (once a Republican, then an Independent and now, finally, a Democrat--a guy who can't make up his mind) and (as John Steward said on the Daily Show, our prayers are answered, Rick Perry is in the mix.
I'm serious, usually I look forward to the World Series, the college football and basketball schedule, the newest movie and Game of Thrones, but now, for almost a year and a half there is going to be the drama, comedy and insanity of the lead up to the next Presidential election.
In his announcement, Lincoln Chaffee said we should join the world and accept the metric system.
Going to win on that platform, Lincoln?
Rick Perry promised not to have any 'uh-oh' moments this time. Good luck with that, my Texan friend.
Things are going to be great, between the weather and the politics, for quite a while....
Friday, June 5, 2015
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Mary
I visited Mary today. She is in her late 80's or early 90's (it wouldn't be polite to ask...) and lives alone with a walker and a cat. Her granddaughter looks in on her each morning and some daughters at other times. She has suffered much and yet is full of life and her mind is much advanced on her body.
I've visited her several times, bringing communion and conversation. Today I showed her pictures of my daughter, Mimi's wedding to Tim and told her about my family.
The cat seldom comes out when I'm there and didn't at all today, probably not trusting me.
But visiting people like Mary--who have seen and felt so much--is one of the great joys of being who I am--a priest of the church.
A friend was there when I arrived, bringing Mary flowers for the sweater Mary knitted for a friend of hers.
Mary introduced me as "Father Jim" and I told the friend, probably my age, to 'just call me Jim', and the two of them had a conversation about what to call the ordained. They needed, it seemed to me, to put something in front of my name.
I'm just 'Jim' in my own mind, but I realized today, at Mary's, that that isn't enough for some people, so I'll let them call my 'Father' from now on, if they want to.
It's good to learn something important--and that's what I learned today at Mary's. You don't always get to 'name' yourself. Sometimes you have to allow others to 'name' you instead.
Something to ponder and live into, I suppose.
God bless Mary and her friend and all those who care for her. Webs of relationship are what matter in this darkling world. They really do.
I've visited her several times, bringing communion and conversation. Today I showed her pictures of my daughter, Mimi's wedding to Tim and told her about my family.
The cat seldom comes out when I'm there and didn't at all today, probably not trusting me.
But visiting people like Mary--who have seen and felt so much--is one of the great joys of being who I am--a priest of the church.
A friend was there when I arrived, bringing Mary flowers for the sweater Mary knitted for a friend of hers.
Mary introduced me as "Father Jim" and I told the friend, probably my age, to 'just call me Jim', and the two of them had a conversation about what to call the ordained. They needed, it seemed to me, to put something in front of my name.
I'm just 'Jim' in my own mind, but I realized today, at Mary's, that that isn't enough for some people, so I'll let them call my 'Father' from now on, if they want to.
It's good to learn something important--and that's what I learned today at Mary's. You don't always get to 'name' yourself. Sometimes you have to allow others to 'name' you instead.
Something to ponder and live into, I suppose.
God bless Mary and her friend and all those who care for her. Webs of relationship are what matter in this darkling world. They really do.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
old friends, book ends...
I had lunch today with Mary Ann Logue. I've known her since the early '80's of the last century. That qualifies as 'old friends' I think.
I presented her for confirmation into the Episcopal Church and then presented her for ordination into the priesthood and then she worked with me as my assistant at St. John's in Waterbury for a few years.
We share a lot of history and it is always a joy to be with her and relive some of it. We also share a left-wing Democrat view of the political landscape, which makes us 'book ends'. We lingered over cheeseburgers at the Whitney Center in Hamden for about two hours. I showed her pictures of Mimi and Tim's wedding. She told me about health stuff and her family. I talked a long time about the Making a Difference workshop and my involvement with it. If she wasn't in her 80's and having trouble getting around, I would have tried to enroll her!
She told me she was too old for it but enjoyed what I told her about it.
She sometimes goes to St. Paul's/St. James in New Haven. But most Sunday she comes down to the Bistro in the morning, sits near the wall to ceiling window and becomes what she started out as--a Quaker.
Many Episcopal priests, if you asked them what they would be if they weren't Episcopalian would say "Quaker".
Isn't that odd? From pomp and circumstance to contemplation. Not bad sides of the same coin, in my mind.
The last line of the Simon and Garfunkel song which is the title of this post says this: "Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you."
Old friends matter so much. Don't lose touch with yours....
I presented her for confirmation into the Episcopal Church and then presented her for ordination into the priesthood and then she worked with me as my assistant at St. John's in Waterbury for a few years.
We share a lot of history and it is always a joy to be with her and relive some of it. We also share a left-wing Democrat view of the political landscape, which makes us 'book ends'. We lingered over cheeseburgers at the Whitney Center in Hamden for about two hours. I showed her pictures of Mimi and Tim's wedding. She told me about health stuff and her family. I talked a long time about the Making a Difference workshop and my involvement with it. If she wasn't in her 80's and having trouble getting around, I would have tried to enroll her!
She told me she was too old for it but enjoyed what I told her about it.
She sometimes goes to St. Paul's/St. James in New Haven. But most Sunday she comes down to the Bistro in the morning, sits near the wall to ceiling window and becomes what she started out as--a Quaker.
Many Episcopal priests, if you asked them what they would be if they weren't Episcopalian would say "Quaker".
Isn't that odd? From pomp and circumstance to contemplation. Not bad sides of the same coin, in my mind.
The last line of the Simon and Garfunkel song which is the title of this post says this: "Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you."
Old friends matter so much. Don't lose touch with yours....
Monday, June 1, 2015
Making a Difference
In 1987 I went to a workshop called "Making a Difference". Without being overly dramatic, here's what happened: I was seriously considering leaving the Episcopal priesthood when I went and what I got was my priesthood all new, transformed, never to be the same.
So I got involved with the group that sponsors the workshop: The Mastery Foundation and eventually became a leader of the workshop that altered my life so completely.
We have a workshop June 16-19 at Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, New York. I was on a phone call with the other two leaders, Shane and Maggie, and our mentor and guru, Ann tonight and became so excited about what's waiting for me in just over two weeks that the transformation was re-declared for me. (That's workshop language, sorry, but it just means I was put back in touch with why I do this and have done it for so many years.)
Part of it was simply that I love the people in 'the work' (more jargon, sorry) so much. Part of it is that I know how much people can be transformed in their ministry from the workshop. Part of it was the humility I always feel when I watch those transformations.
Sometimes a single event can alter life. This is the one that altered mine. Only the birth of our two children and falling in love with Bern are bigger moments for me.
Also, I enrolled two people into the workshop, Garnet and Barbara, who belong to two of the three churches I serve. I've never been good at 'enrolling' (workshop language, sorry). What I've done is try to 'recruit' people. There have been people who I paid their cost to get them to come and asked them to pay me back how much it was worth. They all, I pleased to say, paid me back in full.
But this time I just told people what it meant to me and my life and ministry and that's all Garnet and Barbara needed to hear. Two others wanted to come but job and personal commitments wouldn't let them.
One of the things we, as leaders, promise the participants is this: we will treat you as if your commitments are greater than your frailties.
Everyone, it seems to me, needs someone to treat them that way.
That way lies transformation.
("Transformation" is workshop-speak, to distinguish what is available as opposed to 'change'. Change is arduous, painful and seldom successful. Rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic is 'change'. Transformation is finding a whole new way of being in life. Big difference.)
So I got involved with the group that sponsors the workshop: The Mastery Foundation and eventually became a leader of the workshop that altered my life so completely.
We have a workshop June 16-19 at Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, New York. I was on a phone call with the other two leaders, Shane and Maggie, and our mentor and guru, Ann tonight and became so excited about what's waiting for me in just over two weeks that the transformation was re-declared for me. (That's workshop language, sorry, but it just means I was put back in touch with why I do this and have done it for so many years.)
Part of it was simply that I love the people in 'the work' (more jargon, sorry) so much. Part of it is that I know how much people can be transformed in their ministry from the workshop. Part of it was the humility I always feel when I watch those transformations.
Sometimes a single event can alter life. This is the one that altered mine. Only the birth of our two children and falling in love with Bern are bigger moments for me.
Also, I enrolled two people into the workshop, Garnet and Barbara, who belong to two of the three churches I serve. I've never been good at 'enrolling' (workshop language, sorry). What I've done is try to 'recruit' people. There have been people who I paid their cost to get them to come and asked them to pay me back how much it was worth. They all, I pleased to say, paid me back in full.
But this time I just told people what it meant to me and my life and ministry and that's all Garnet and Barbara needed to hear. Two others wanted to come but job and personal commitments wouldn't let them.
One of the things we, as leaders, promise the participants is this: we will treat you as if your commitments are greater than your frailties.
Everyone, it seems to me, needs someone to treat them that way.
That way lies transformation.
("Transformation" is workshop-speak, to distinguish what is available as opposed to 'change'. Change is arduous, painful and seldom successful. Rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic is 'change'. Transformation is finding a whole new way of being in life. Big difference.)
Sunday, May 31, 2015
rain, sweet rain
The quality of mercy is not strained (I won't put quote marks because I'm not going to look it up and I don't trust my memory!) it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the plain beneath. It falls on the just and the unjust....Like that.
The rain finally came, around 6 p.m., though it had threatened all day. A hard rain and then a soaking rain, just what we needed.
The 'dry' of Connecticut pales by the 'dry' of California. And the rain of Connecticut is nothing to speak about compared to the damaging, troubling rains in Texas and Oklahoma.
But it has been dry and then we got the best rain, just like we needed.
God looks out after Connecticut, the bluest of blue states.
Bern things the floods in Texas (and now the mosquito problem--most likely with West Nile disease) are just the beginning of a Biblical 7 Plagues of Egypt on Texas for, well...being Texas and spawning Rick Perry and Ted Cruz and ass-hole laws.
Not bad, I almost wish it were true. But most likely, if God is involved, it's because there are more 'Science Deny-ers' in Texas than Connecticut. I think a large majority of Connecticut citizens believe in evolution and climate change...a much larger percentage than in Texas. Pretty sure of that.
I'll take my chances in bluest of Blue Connecticut rather than redest of Red Texas--for a lot more reasons than the weather.
But the rain tonight was wondrous--the temperature dropped from 72 to 52 in just over an hour. Good sleeping tonight. No need for AC in sight--next week will be cooler than this week here in the Democrat dominated Nutmeg state.
Maybe, just maybe, some things actually turn out as they should, in the grand scheme of things.
Nowhere I'd rather live, unless there is somewhere where the temperature is always, always between 50 and 70.
Probably not.
The rain finally came, around 6 p.m., though it had threatened all day. A hard rain and then a soaking rain, just what we needed.
The 'dry' of Connecticut pales by the 'dry' of California. And the rain of Connecticut is nothing to speak about compared to the damaging, troubling rains in Texas and Oklahoma.
But it has been dry and then we got the best rain, just like we needed.
God looks out after Connecticut, the bluest of blue states.
Bern things the floods in Texas (and now the mosquito problem--most likely with West Nile disease) are just the beginning of a Biblical 7 Plagues of Egypt on Texas for, well...being Texas and spawning Rick Perry and Ted Cruz and ass-hole laws.
Not bad, I almost wish it were true. But most likely, if God is involved, it's because there are more 'Science Deny-ers' in Texas than Connecticut. I think a large majority of Connecticut citizens believe in evolution and climate change...a much larger percentage than in Texas. Pretty sure of that.
I'll take my chances in bluest of Blue Connecticut rather than redest of Red Texas--for a lot more reasons than the weather.
But the rain tonight was wondrous--the temperature dropped from 72 to 52 in just over an hour. Good sleeping tonight. No need for AC in sight--next week will be cooler than this week here in the Democrat dominated Nutmeg state.
Maybe, just maybe, some things actually turn out as they should, in the grand scheme of things.
Nowhere I'd rather live, unless there is somewhere where the temperature is always, always between 50 and 70.
Probably not.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Mimi
Mimi's with us for a night. She came around four. Bern grilled shrimp and radicchio and other strange stuff to grill and we ate on the deck.
After that, Mimi and I drank some wine--hers from a bottle, mine from a box--and read until it became too dark to read.
Here's the great thing about Mimi as a daughter--you can sit for an hour reading side by side and not feel compelled to fill the air with small talk.
Bern and Mimi are in our TV room now, watching a movie ("Big Eyes"). I've seen it so I came to write about how wondrous it always is to have Mimi around. Tim is in upstate New York recording some music. He may break out someday as a musician. Now, he works for Linked-In (whatever that's about!)
Anyhow, having Mimi, and Tim too, around is like living the way we always do except with some encounters with two people we love like a rock.
Comfortable. That's the word that works.
Having Mimi around is just comfortable. Comfortable and absolutely right.
How many people in your life can you say that about?
Something to ponder.
After that, Mimi and I drank some wine--hers from a bottle, mine from a box--and read until it became too dark to read.
Here's the great thing about Mimi as a daughter--you can sit for an hour reading side by side and not feel compelled to fill the air with small talk.
Bern and Mimi are in our TV room now, watching a movie ("Big Eyes"). I've seen it so I came to write about how wondrous it always is to have Mimi around. Tim is in upstate New York recording some music. He may break out someday as a musician. Now, he works for Linked-In (whatever that's about!)
Anyhow, having Mimi, and Tim too, around is like living the way we always do except with some encounters with two people we love like a rock.
Comfortable. That's the word that works.
Having Mimi around is just comfortable. Comfortable and absolutely right.
How many people in your life can you say that about?
Something to ponder.
Friday, May 29, 2015
A big ponder
First of all, let me apologize for yesterday's post. I was feeling old. Sorry.
Today I saw Tomorrowland and I'm 38 again, so don't worry.
Lots of reviewers hated it, but I loved it--just the kind of optimistic, hopeful, glass half full kind of stuff that my 38 year old self (in my heart and mind) loves.
Anyway, in the movie, George Clooney asks Brit Robertson (who along with Raffey Cassidy are remarkable, remarkable--never saw a movie with two young women--a teen and an adolescent, were so amazing) "If I could tell you," George (Frank in the movie) asks Brit (Cassy in the movie) "the moment you were going to die, would you want to know?"
It's a brilliant exchange in the movie, but I came away with the question haunting me.
Take a moment (or an afternoon!) and ponder that question.
If someone could tell you the moment you would die, would you want to know?
There's a rational side that says, 'yes', so you could be prepared and 'get things in order' and look bravely into that good night.
But there is an emotional side that says, 'no', because you would be haunted by the knowledge and be counting down the years, months, weeks, days, hours and not paying attention to the 'now'.
It is a fascinating question.
Something to ponder long and hard and look at all the sides and corners of.
That's what I think I'm going to do. I'll let you know in a few days what I decided.
I'd recommend you ponder the question as well. Peel away the skins of the onion of the question and see what all you discover.
Shalom.
Today I saw Tomorrowland and I'm 38 again, so don't worry.
Lots of reviewers hated it, but I loved it--just the kind of optimistic, hopeful, glass half full kind of stuff that my 38 year old self (in my heart and mind) loves.
Anyway, in the movie, George Clooney asks Brit Robertson (who along with Raffey Cassidy are remarkable, remarkable--never saw a movie with two young women--a teen and an adolescent, were so amazing) "If I could tell you," George (Frank in the movie) asks Brit (Cassy in the movie) "the moment you were going to die, would you want to know?"
It's a brilliant exchange in the movie, but I came away with the question haunting me.
Take a moment (or an afternoon!) and ponder that question.
If someone could tell you the moment you would die, would you want to know?
There's a rational side that says, 'yes', so you could be prepared and 'get things in order' and look bravely into that good night.
But there is an emotional side that says, 'no', because you would be haunted by the knowledge and be counting down the years, months, weeks, days, hours and not paying attention to the 'now'.
It is a fascinating question.
Something to ponder long and hard and look at all the sides and corners of.
That's what I think I'm going to do. I'll let you know in a few days what I decided.
I'd recommend you ponder the question as well. Peel away the skins of the onion of the question and see what all you discover.
Shalom.
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