Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Willing to Wander


I’m a big believer in pilgrimages—whether it’s to the Mekong River to watch for “dragon fire”, or a mountaintop in Spain where the Virgin Mary reportedly appeared, or a dirt road in rural Missouri where a “spooklight” dances, or the deep silence of the woods around a Trappist abbey in rural Oregon. My own understanding of a pilgrimage is that of a quest—I try to take a route I haven’t taken before to a place I’ve never been before, where an answer to a question may or may not be waiting. I’ve discovered that risk and openness usually bring a surprising gift.
When I visited the Trappist abbey recently, the weather was perfect, the hiking trails lush, and the sounds of forest creatures and burbling streams and wind sighing in the tree tops a welcome relief from the concrete and traffic of Seattle. The monks started singing at 3:30 in the morning, punctuated the rest of the day with prayer and singing, and finished at 7:30 pm. I tried to sleep as late as 6:30 am, but with bells ringing and other retreatants rising early, it was difficult. It’s only a place you should visit if you’re willing to enter into the “monastic rhythm”—and it’s a little jarring at first coming from the hyperactive outside world. My favorite time of day was the 7:30 pm prayers and songs in the candlelit chapel as a monk pronounced, “Brothers, we are now one day closer to our eternal home. ”That comment sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me that we are all pilgrims, and each day is another mile in the journey. Every day is a new mile we haven’t traveled before—and we don’t really know where our wandering will ultimately lead or what our destination city will look like. I guess that’s what travel used to always be like. Now, we tend to be fully informed and completely connected over the internet before we even take our first step. Yet adventures still await those who are willing to wander. After departing the abbey, I just started driving in the general direction of the Pacific coast. Along the way, I spotted hand-made signs and arrows proclaiming simply, “Monastery.” Naturally, I had to follow. The signs led me along deserted stretches of two-lane highway. I was just about to turn around when I reached another arrow pointing to an unpaved road. The unpaved road dead-ended, and when I stepped out of my car, a beat-up old tom cat came racing out to greet me. Maybe the monks’ silence left the cat starved for conversation. I had arrived at the only Brigittine monastery in the world, where cloistered monks chanted and made chocolate. I took a few moments to pray in the “Our Lady of Consolation” chapel and, of course, I bought some chocolate. For some reason, the winding roads on this little pilgrimage kept depositing me on the doorstep of those hidden ones who are devoting their lives to praying for the rest of us. Apparently, there are even cloistered cats.
Also posted on my blog Strange Islands

I'm dying.

I'm dying. My days are numbered. I realize that we only have a certain amount of days to use at our disposal. When confronting our demise, it can often make us reflect on what we do, where we have been, what we could have done, and what to do with the time we have left.


Now before I cause panic or anyone to wonder about my health, I am okay (as far as I know). I am still waiting on the results of my recent cholesterol test, maybe then my worries may shift. (Sorry Mom if I spooked you.)

I am not in a melancholy state of feeling like a pierced Goth kid who sees death as a perpetually looming reaper. Although it did not help that I awoke with no voice, and a cold like I have not seen in ages, I still am not doing too badly for a 45 year old dude with many miles on him.

I guess what started the inspiration for this installment was indeed the fact that I remained home from work and was watching the Today show. I was watching a segment highlighting the story of a family in which the mother (of 2 young girls) was fighting, to no avail, Stage four cancer. It was heartbreaking as the mother’s main worry was that of the welfare of her children. More so, she lamented missing “moments” with them: proms, weddings, vacations, and grandchildren to name a few.

The piece also highlighted an organization, to which the name momentarily escapes my memory that will help provide vacations, moments mind you, for the families of the terminally ill. They offer them a fond memory and a reprieve from the ravages of the illness for a brief period in time. It warmed my heart, and I commend these people for their fine efforts.

I listened to her newfound wisdom of making the most of the time she had left, and her deepened appreciation for the “small stuff” that used to pass her by. I stopped to reflect on that poignant realization. “Oh my gosh”, I thought. We are ALL dying. Maybe we do not know when exactly, but do we have to become confronted with the finish line to start to practice the wisdom now obtained by the ones who have been informed of their time remaining?

I also thought deeper for a moment. Who are the actual lucky ones here? (With absolute compassion and all due respect) I wondered which life was more coveted: one that is long without awareness to its gifts, or a narrowed timeline with a deepened appreciation of life’s blessings and a love for each individual moment. Quite a toss-up isn’t it?

Without being dark or macabre, I want to remind all that we are indeed dying. This I say without the intent to sadden, but to uplift. Many proceed through their timelines without knowing the date of their departure. That is the way it should go, right? Our schedules, the small stuff, and trivial circumstances flood our days, leaving little room for desire, or urgency for that matter, to take time for the important stuff. The stuff we would so trade a king’s ransom for if we had one more day at the end. More time to do the things we would do, if we all knew our departure time.

Since many of us are lucky (or unlucky, depending on your viewpoint) to not know when we are leaving this earthly plane, perhaps it should truly spark more urgency than less. One who has been handed a terminal health obstacle for example can immediately get on a shift in perspective and start to gain closure, reconnect, or simply appreciate the things we the oblivious procrastinate. Many of us, myself included act as if we are drinking from a never ending well. What if God decided to call us home next week? What if it was tomorrow? What if it was this evening? How would you act? What would you do? Who would you surround yourself with? What are your loose ends?

I realized a few things today:

Time is a precious resource If we compare it to money for example, we can spend it. In both we can dole it out to achieve what we need to do, and trade it for accomplishing things. Like money too, sometimes we trade our resources for wise things, other times not so wise. We can save it. Through planning and frugality, we can economize things we do in order to maintain as much of our precious resources as possible to use at a later time. Both time and money should not all be blown on a whim or foolishly. Lastly though, we can waste it. However the grave difference here is that there is a possibility to make more money, blessed would we be if we found a way to print more time.

Things left undone. Are there experiences that nag at you, calling for you to try? Is there somewhere you have always wished to visit? Is there a class you always wanted to take? Is there a book still unwritten within you? Have you always dreamt of seeing Europe, maybe the ocean, maybe simply another city? If your time was greatly limited, what would you do? Are you a parent? I never heard of a man on his deathbed saying, “Gee, I wish I spent more time at the office!”

Things left unsaid. Do you have any “I love you’s” still trapped inside you? How about any “I miss you’s?” Perhaps you may have accumulated an “I’m sorry” or two. Often we hear of people who regret that they were never able to release the burden of words left unsaid. Take your own inventory. Is there anything that needs to go or be shared?

Many of us do not know exactly when we will leave this big blue marble. Even those who are burdened with physical or health obstacles may not always know the exact time of departure even when knowing their time is more limited than others. I feel that we can all agree if we knew our time was going to be shorter than we expected, we would be prompted to take on an urgency to wring the most life we could out of our remaining moments.

Like the song by Tim McGraw advises: “Live like you're dyin'” Don’t wait until a difficult diagnosis or loss of a friend or loved one, prompts you to an awareness you can engage now in this moment. Although I am not sure if I will try skydiving, I will try my damndest to appreciate my moments here more. I will try to recognize the gifts that lie before me, and will try to be more frugal with my time.

Since I have now spent enough time in front of a computer, I think I will log off and live a little.





This is a re-post from Artisan of the Human Spirit by Tony Anders

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Scanning for Updates

   “Windows has important updates to install.” Hmm. Click.
   “You may continue working while Windows prepares updates.” Click. Click.
   “Windows must restart to install updates for programs and services. Save any open files and restart your computer.” Huh? You said I could…
   “Do you want to restart now?” No!
   “Windows must restart to install …” Click. Click. Click. Wait.
   “Windows is configuring update one of three. Do not turn off your computer.” Naughty Beth. Just wait.
   The black laptop screen reflects my image.
   Restart complete.
   “Windows has updated your computer. Click here to see the updates installed.” Go for it. Click.
   “Security Patch KB0..” click.
   Note to God: Um, if I may, did you see that?
   Note to Beth: Reboot.

[also posted on my blog]

A journey of self-discovery

I sat in silence.

The sky engulfed me. So did the greenery.



It was a meditative state ... hearing nothing but the chirping of the birds.

The sound of the breeze in the rustling leaves.


The smell of grass.


Everything kissed by the sun.


I was at peace.


As I cocked my head to the left, I saw the freeway ... glistening metal and glass edifices.
A mass of civilization. People running from Point A to Point B.

Mindlessly.


Trying to make ends meet. Trying to figure out their purpose in life through their work. Trying to survive in a consumerist battlefield.


Perched up on the green folds of the mountain, I tried to blur it out.




All needs, wants, ambition, goals -- vanished.

Replaced by calm.

It was so real, that it felt surreal.


And then came a flood of questions.


Why didn't I make more time for such escapes from a life that continued to stress me?


Why
have I built a life that continually demands me to be a robot?

Why can I not just leave it all behind?


Why can't I enjoy more time with Nature?


Why can't I just spend days wandering, reflecting, marveling?


Why do I need a routine, a structure to make sense of my existence?


Why can't I just be?


Escape.


Create my own reality.


I didn't come back with any answers, but the questions keep nagging at me.


When I
know what I really want to do, when I know what brings me contentment, when I know what makes me fulfilled...

What's holding me back?


Is it a false sense of security?


Is it just because?


I don't want to go down the "I don't know" street...it never leads me to any answers, just buys me more time to muster up the courage and ultimately confront my fears.



I want to close some doors and not look back.


I want to open some doors and explore with wild abandon.


One day soon we'll have to sit and talk it through.

I, me, and myself on a journey of self-discovery.


Also posted on my blog.

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Introducing myself is never easy.


Hello.

I suppose I’d better do that 'thing', you know the 'thing', the 'bad thing'. Writing is easy (okay, writing well isn’t, but simply writing is), I can write about my life, I can write about my wife. I can write about my kids, I can write about… Damn, I can’t think of anything useful that rhymes with kids – lids? How often do I write about lids? I’ll consult with my Dr. Seuss thesaurus, and get back to you.

When it comes to writing about that 'thing' though, I draw a blank.

That 'thing' – is me, Glen Staples, the idiot still making sand castles, even though his children have run off to play with a kite.

Sadly then, I have to introduce myself and that involves getting my keyboard to write a bio (the mere mention of that word brings me out in a sweat).

Think back to when you were 18 and had your first car. It was an old style Mini, or something similar. You got it 4th hand and it was a wreck, but it was so much fun. Your mates would all pile in, and you would head off to the coast for the weekend with the cassette player (use Google or Wikipedia if you are too young to know what a cassette player is) blasting out Kiss or Bon Jovi (again Google will help). Another night would see you parking up in the woods with a girl whose name you had already forgotten, and then desperately trying to master the art of bra removal.

That’s not me – I don’t think it ever was.

I’m the 2nd hand Ford you had when you were 20. You had started having ‘relationships’, which could sometimes last months. This meant that you were officially ‘a couple’ and could therefore not go on the weekends to the coast with your mates. Also the excitement of the bra removal had gone, because it was no longer new and her name was on the green strip along the windscreen. However the car stuck by you through all this, got you where you wanted 8 times out of 10 and it had a CD player.

That’s me – not quite so much fun as you hope, but loyal, often dependable and almost, but not quite, modern.

I left home at 16 to join the Royal Navy, where I attempted to have ‘relationships’ with many women around the world, often at the same time and usually unsuccessfully. Eventually, I found a girl foolish enough to take me on, so I left the Navy and settled down to a more normal life.

Now I have two children, a wife and a London commuter’s life, all four of which give me plenty to write about, because there are funny things that you can see in almost all situations if you know how, and where to look.

Check these posts out if you want to see what I mean.

Survival

I live in a sit com

Training update #2

These can all be found on my blog http://www.glens-life.blogspot.com/.

Hopefully, now that I’ve got the introduction out of the way, I can relax and write some more for Writers Rising soon, meanwhile I need to get a cup of tea so that I can sit and read some more about you.

By the way…

I can write about my kids,
I can blink my eye lids,
I can eat the meat of the Krakka-Dakka-Zidz.

Good old Seuss never lets you down in a crisis.

Monday, March 29, 2010

My Swan Song

I am a profoundly unhappy person. It is true and I cannot help it. I try to walk through life counting my blessings and holding to everything I can, no matter how feeble, to help me get by. It is one step at a time, it is grudingly ...I am who I am. Of course I would've wanted to be another person, to live another life but I canot change the facts, no matter how much I try. So, instead of chasing the windmills I have to accept my fate. I know I made a lot of mistakes in life, at least I tried each and every time to go against fate and I failed and I have been paying since. No point to dwell in the past, though. It is done and finished. Now, I have to concentrate on the future. To take my unhappiness and twist it make it work for me the way happiness and contentment work for others. I will do it even if it will be the last thing I'm doing...

Of course I wanted to have a career, a loving husband, a supporting family and community, beauty, wealth and so on. But I don't have them. And what I had, I lost because of my naivete or stupidity.I have only my stuborness and my fantasy, my children, my books, my dreams and God. And my Armageddon, the last battle, my swan song, my writing. And these are the things I cling to with all my strength. Because they are only mine and their doing and un-doing depend only on me. No other.

So I'll take my feelings and my tears and my pain and weave them with the love for God and for my children and the outcome will me my making and only mine. And then I will be able to say "Nothing can hurt me now because I've been hurt so much I made my failure my armor and dissapoinment my sword".

My swan song, verses - my bitterness, melody - my loneliness. I take them all and disolve them in my being. I accept who I am and what I've done. And hold my head high...

Love is the Only Way!


Without love, there is no hope.
Without love, there is no joy.
Without love, there is no solution.
Without love, there is no future.

You may give money.
You may give 'stuff'.
You may talk about love.

But without having love,
They are empty gestures.
Empty like the heart that gives -

Out of duty,
Out of guilt,
Out of confusion.

You will see problem,
After problem.
Suffer pain,
After pain.

Only love can heal.
Unconditional,
Unwanting,
Untainted,
Forgiving and true.

Love is the only way!

Look at your relationships in this way,
look at your situations today
And ask,
Where am I not loving?

Do not look at him or her to blame.
Only look at them to see the reflection,
of who you are

Are they unhappy?
Are they sad?
Are they mad?

What is it in YOU that is making you project unhappiness?
What is it in YOU that is making you project sadness?
What is it in YOU that is making you project madness?

Remember, Love is the only way!

Post on my blog