Life Pitches

Eric's Blog

Life Pitches

 

A fast ball

I learn to hit it

 

A curve ball

I struggle but do OK

 

A slider

Knocks me down

 

I get up

It's hard to get up

 

I need more fast balls

A few curves

And less sliders

 

 

Each of us has difficult times. Some are easier to cope with than others. Some of us can't hit fast balls; some can't hit curve balls. For me it's a slider.

 

What makes for a slider? Sometimes it's multiple losses in succession or totally unexpected calamities that try my usual coping skills. They knock me down but in time I get up again and bat. It's no fun lying on the ground. 

A Convenient Pilgrimage

Lesley's Blog

For many years my parents lived in North Wales, a very special area of the United Kingdom that I delighted in exploring, especially on foot. On the North West side of Wales is the Llyn Peninsula, at the end of which is Bardsey Island, known in earlier times as The Island of Twenty Thousand Saints. A place of pilgrimage, especially in the Middle Ages, Bardsey Island can be a challenging place to access with the turbulent waters of the Sound making the several mile trip unpredictable at best. Whether it was the difficulty of the journey or the holiness of the island, or both, it was traditionally accepted that three pilgrimages to Bardsey were equivalent of one to THE place of Christian pilgrimage, Rome.

I arrived in the village of Aberdaron on the evening of a warm summer day to begin my own form of pilgrimage to Bardsey. After staying overnight in a bed and breakfast establishment, I started off early the next morning in plenty of time to find the boat, or so I thought. The parking place, I had been told, was a field from which there was a long walk down to a beach and the boat. The field proved to be very elusive and, after losing the way for a while, I finally arrived at 10:10a.m. I raced in to park my car, with the dire warning ringing in my head that I had to be at the loading area by 10:15a.m., the implication being that the boat would wait for no man (or woman for that matter). The uneven path across more fields down to the cove was fortunately just that, down hill. I ran vigorously to arrive panting and exhausted, late. No boat was in sight: an interesting beginning to my "pilgrimage" day, especially as the boat approached the shore about an hour later.

Several people were wandering on the beach and an older woman and young boy were amazingly swimming in the frigid ocean. The were part of the Ch..... family, the brave swimmers being the grandmother and grandson. Mr and Mrs Ch..... had been to Bardsey several times and on one occasion, they told me, had been stranded for several additional days, after a week's stay, when bad weather prohibited their return boat journey across the Sound.

The Ch.....'s had been involved with organizing a pilgrimage for two thousand people from the Diocese of Bangor, a town on the North Welsh coast. The journey was significantly easier and faster than for earlier pilgrims who endured hardships galore in order to reach the holy destination. In contrast these modern day pilgrims set out in luxury coaches. Several energetic and dedicated individuals did choose to walk a section of the original pilgrims' way, a minor "hardship" in comparison. 

Part of Mrs Ch.....'s job was as organizer of "conveniences" as they are known in Britain (or bathrooms in the United States). She contacted villages along the route to ensure an ample supply of "loos". Apparently, on arrival at said toilets, they often found them adorned with a fresh coat of paint, probably the first for many years. The villagers had clearly been spiritually inspired! With great ingenuity Mrs Ch..... also persuaded a small group of monks at a retreat house along the way to open up their latrines. It was a massive degree of organization for a potty break. Oh! the joys of being a modern pilgrim with all the modern conveniences.

At first reading, a journey of well organized luxury might not seem like a very adequate "pilgrimage" but who are we to judge. It is likely that each participant had his or her unique spiritual process and experience, not to mention the impact on the public toilets along the way. Doing something very small with little effort can be as transforming as a lengthy arduous experience. I believe that whatever we need spiritually is what is presented to us and it is up to us to decide what to make of it, large or small, easy or difficult. 

As for my own Bardsey experience? I'll let you know next blog.         

Keep Your Shoes

Eric's Post

 

Keep Your Shoes

 

When we imagine ourselves

In someone's shoes

We have empathy

 

Empathy is a good thing

It helps us understand

And feel for others

 

Some people though

Lose their shoes when they

Walk in the shoes of others

 

Keep your shoes

Live with compassion

For yourself and others

 

Sensivity to others, their needs, their ways, their values is an important part of connecting with others. It helps us respect them and treat them with dignity. However, as we become sensitive to others it is also important that we remain sensitive to ourselves, our needs, our values, our belief systems, so we don't get lost in our lives. Compassion for ourself and others is a humane path for all of us.  

The Modern Pilgrim

Lesley's Post

A few months ago I watched the movie "The Way" in which a man takes the ashes of his son on the pilgrimage route, Camino de Santiago (The Way of St. James), through northern Spain to Santiago de Compostela, a walk of several hundred miles. At the final destination it is said that the remains of St.
James are buried. In former times this long journey would have been very arduous and dangerous, not just because of the distance but brigands roamed the countryside and pilgrims were easy prey.

Over time towns, villages, hospices, monasteries and means of protection for the pilgrims developed so that food, accommodation and safety were increasingly available. In the movie the characters were well fed and certainly safe but the accommodations were not of the en suite variety, which is my strong preference. Several years ago, before my ankle injury, I had read articles about this pilgrimage and had put the journey on my internal "bucket list". Now older and with a greater love of soft beds and private bathrooms, I muttered to my spouse while watching the movie, "Remind me not to sign up for this".

Early Christians, such as the Desert Fathers, sought places of solitude in which to more deeply connect with the God of their understanding. For those believers it was the desert, whereas Celtic Christians often sought natural wildness and solitude on islands. These pilgrims, known as Pelegrini, (linked by its Latin root to the concept of wandering over a great distance), set out on ocean voyages in what we would consider very inadequate vessels made of wood covered with animal skin, waterproofed with tallow. With very little knowledge of sea craft, they made leaps of faith to endure hard and unpredictable journeys over uncharted waters. On the islands they sailed to, life was equally hard and unpredictable.

Living in communities or as hermits, these devout and brave wanderers sought and found what they wanted, a strengthening of their love for their wonderous Creator. They also found in those wild places a powerful relationship with nature which was reflected in their writings and poetry. Like Thoreau, they knew abundance in simplicity and peace in the grinding rhythm of daily prayer and hard labor. And with their prayers and devotions the sacredness of the space gathered in energy to sustain them over the years. They were the embodiment of what it means to be a pilgrim.

In places like Tibet, even today, pilgrims can be seen moving on bound knees, blocks tied to their hands for addition protection while making prostrations, as they shuffles along with excrutiating slowness towards or around places they consider sacred. These truly commited souls, looking humility in the eye with every movement, seem to epitomize the arduous nature of pilgrimage.

So, in this day and age in America, what does it mean to be a pilgrim, to seek to know something of the Divine? With few wild places to wander to and with many of the sacred places being easily accessible, not to mention commercialized, how to we embrace a desire to make a meaningful pilgrimage? Does it have to be dangerous without mod cons, as in the days of old? Can we really find "Paradise Lost" in our modern world without much solitude in nature and the hard physicality of sustaining our daily life?

In the movie the characters discussed their stated reasons for choosing to make the journey but by the end it was clear that those were not their "soul" reasons. One woman wanted to give up smoking and a man wanted to lose weight. They were heading for a sacred place where thousands of individuals over hundreds of years have uttered prayers and made supplications, hoping for their own miracle. What they learned, of course, was that the process of journeys change us in unexpected ways and the miracle is when our hearts open, when we let go of our longed for outcome, and allow the changes to work within us. And for many, just feeling that sacred energy, a palpable expression of the Divine, has been reason enough to make the journey. Feeling the Divine Love is the miracle.

Maybe it is as simple as that all life is a pilgrimage in which we wander, being in tune with the process but releasing the outcome, expecting the unexpected and being commited to learning the lessons along the way. Can we visit the wild and natural places of solitude within and embrace the hardship and miracles of life just as they are. And maybe now our pilgrimage also calls us to ask where and in what activities in our daily life do we most experience the sacred energy, and to be deeply present to those moments in time. Does it call us to be devoted in each moment of our lives as were the early Celtic Christians with their wonderful prayers said for every mundane task? And can our pilgrimage mean that we embrace the joy of moments of solitude in nature, compassion in community  and love of life's everyday toils?

I don't know. Each person's life path is different and each pilgrimage is unique. Our task, I suppose, is to take the first step and keep going, opening ourselves to whatever comes along the way.  





   

TIME

ERIC'S POST

TIME

Better late

Than never

 

This is a motto

Some live by

 

But they are always late

To a time we have agreed upon

 

I'm on time

Almost always on time

 

It's my motto

I don't like theirs

 

 

Some people seem to feel like it is their right to always come late. It's like they feel entitled. If I am late you should understand over and over again. Once in awhile is OK. Habitual lateness irks me. We have a plan. If you cannot make the plan then don't make it or change it as we make it. Most of the people in my current life are respectful of our joint commitments. I am grateful for this. 

 



Meandering in Mazy Motion

Lesley's Post

Recently I watched a movie on the life of Diane Vreeland and loved the way she lived with an amazing intensity and had a career during which she was extraordinarily creative. She worked very hard but at the same time pushed the boundaries of the possible and clearly thought and behaved "outside the box".

Now I don't imagine that I can be like this one of a kind person, and I don't actually want to because I am aware that everything has it's downside and dark side. But in the wake of seeing the movie I went to a store owned by a friend and "unconsciously" bought a hot pink shapely outfit, quite unlike something I would usually purchase. It felt like I was exploring an "out of the box" part of myself in just a very small way. It seemed as if I had wandered into a little bit of wildness.      

The Poem "Kubla Khan" is a favorite of mine and I especially love the line,
                  "Five miles meandering in a mazy motion".
According to the dictionary the word "meander" means to take a winding or indirect course; wander aimlessly; ramble. "Mazy" means full of confusing turns, passages; like a maze.

Throughout most of my life I have developed goals and plans that have guided my life and when Plan A did not work, then I would develop Plan B or C until I found a way through the difficulty or crisis. It has been the opposite of "meandering in mazy motion" or living in the wildness and yet for the most part it has worked. After much education, I have had a meaningful career as a psychologist, mostly in private practice, planned wonderful vacations, for myself and others, and had a well organized home life. It has been good and I feel very blessed.

Now in my sixties and entering the retirement years, I feel drawn to live somewhat differently with less goal direction and outcomes and more meandering and enjoying the process. It is proving to be a challenge. It is hard to stand in the face of the dark side of being a planner, the guilt and the "shoulds" that can raise their ugly heads when I am not busy with some productive, goal directed behavior.

But I am determined to join the "Wanderers" of this world who journey to explore the unknown regions of the landscape, both internally and externally, where the wildness of us still remains waiting for us to arrive. And I hope that Carol Pearson is right in her book "The Hero Within" when she writes in the chapter "The Wanderer", "Indeed, the Wanderer ultimately teaches us to be ourselves - to be fully true to ourselves in every moment." When I ask myself "What do I deeply desire?", it is just that - to know my true self and be that in every moment. 

So, I hereby commit to meandering in mazy motion, wandering and rambling through my life, freeing myself to discover all I can about my internal and external landscape. And I trust that there is a way to be both pleasantly organized with plans and wander merrily into the wildness.       

WAITING

Eric's Post 

Waiting for

The movie to start

 

Waiting for

The food to arrive

 

Waiting for

The sun to come up

 

Waiting for the future

Loses the present moment

And what is happening now

 

In waiting sometimes

We want something else to be happening

 

Now is happening

Seizing that moment

Captures the present opportunity

 

 

Waiting is a natural part of living. Sometimes when we are waiting we miss the opportunites of the present moment; opportunities for meaningful conversation, activities and achievements. Looking to the future for satisfaction or fulfillment may place unrealistic expectations on the future moment to bring pleasures that are never realized.

 

As a boy I remember "waiting" for days to open my Christmas presents and often being disappointed at the results. That "waiting" period was almost torturous and I missed opportunities for enjoying myself. Early in my adult life I realized that "now" is a gift and endeavored to live increasingly in the place of the moment.

Some people put off joy and satisfaction to the future by saying, "When this happens ..... " I can relax or feel better. Sadly they miss all the moments in between.

 

So, let's seize the moment, the "NOW" opportunity as we wait.