soulsearching
soulsearching July 3 06 I have lived a naive,and expectant life. Once dubbed the prophet of possibility I was sure we could soar. I used to think that at the workplace we hovered inches off the ground. And there were some good times and good teaching and considerable learning happening. I thought all my children were beautiful and creative and funny and talented. I loved my wife and she was desirable and happy. Something happened along the way to here. Life happened.
My sister still prays fervently to God. In times of trouble she is sure he sends grace winging her way, and her son in a coma since being run down by a drunken kid comes out of the coma after a priest lays on his hands and says:Happy Mother's day Mommy. praise the Lord! I listen to clever neo conservatives on CSPAN and vindictive, bitter hateful callers who deride any one left of Atilla and I wonder what the hell happened to the dream we once had in the sixties when we assumed the power of the people changed the course of the war. Did we underestimate the forces of darkness? Oh yes we did! I look around for a priest with his hands outstretched, I search for God within my soul in vain.
I have a friend, a gentle , good man who is perplexed at any mention of the Soul or spirit. What is it? Define it. He has heard Solomon Rushdie on Bill Moyers whom he says believes as he does. I did not hear Moyers , so I don't know. I gave him a copy of Care of the Soul, but he will not read it. I am left to deal with my own erratic soul It is not dancing on the barn wall as it once did. It is not there. I am not awash in grace when I witness love at work among my children or my stuudents, perhaps because I do not see it transpiring. I know. I have eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear. So I must bathe my eyes , clean out my ears and begin again. Listen at predawn for birdsong;see the rubythroated hummingbird darting from blossom to blossom. When the dog stops snoring and awakes he will let me know he loves me.
My sister still prays fervently to God. In times of trouble she is sure he sends grace winging her way, and her son in a coma since being run down by a drunken kid comes out of the coma after a priest lays on his hands and says:Happy Mother's day Mommy. praise the Lord! I listen to clever neo conservatives on CSPAN and vindictive, bitter hateful callers who deride any one left of Atilla and I wonder what the hell happened to the dream we once had in the sixties when we assumed the power of the people changed the course of the war. Did we underestimate the forces of darkness? Oh yes we did! I look around for a priest with his hands outstretched, I search for God within my soul in vain.
I have a friend, a gentle , good man who is perplexed at any mention of the Soul or spirit. What is it? Define it. He has heard Solomon Rushdie on Bill Moyers whom he says believes as he does. I did not hear Moyers , so I don't know. I gave him a copy of Care of the Soul, but he will not read it. I am left to deal with my own erratic soul It is not dancing on the barn wall as it once did. It is not there. I am not awash in grace when I witness love at work among my children or my stuudents, perhaps because I do not see it transpiring. I know. I have eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear. So I must bathe my eyes , clean out my ears and begin again. Listen at predawn for birdsong;see the rubythroated hummingbird darting from blossom to blossom. When the dog stops snoring and awakes he will let me know he loves me.
posted by 2260 lake ave at 10:01 AM
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