Standing Still

I watched the Kennedy Center Honors tonight on television. It was like a walk through my past as three of the honorees; Robert DeNiro, Mel Brooks and Bruce Springsteen all reminded me of when I was growing up during the nineteen seventies and early eighties. Who could ever forget movies like "The Deer Hunter" "Blazing Saddles" or songs like "Born In The USA"

I think Springsteen's tribute got to me the most as John Stewart of "The Daily Show" gave a surprising personal narrative about the essence of Bruce Springsteen's music. Later came tributes by John Cougar Mellencamp, Melissa Etheridge and Sting. The following is my own story done in a style I tried to capture like Springsteen would. It is a little down but don't take it too seriously. If life on earth is a roller coaster then heaven must be a rock concert! Here goes...

Standing Still

I was an old eighteen
Coming straight out of high school
Friends were on their way
They made plans like I was supposed to
But I found myself standing still
Nowhere in particular to go
Clueless as could be
Living in that small farm town
Facing those same foundry gates
That stole my daddy away
Twelve hours a day and then some
Lost child in a crowd of friendly’s
That’s what I became.

Standing still
Nothing but the sound of life
Passing me by
Silent rhythm of a follower
Disciple of the popular crowd.

Signed the dotted line
Uncle Sam wanted me
So I went into that Missouri country side
Hoping I’d made the right decision
Amnesty at midnight or a nightmare
I did not know then but I know now
How the world preys on the ignorant child
Loose as a canon pointed at my head
Late night drunk or high again
Cold cobblestone still haunts my bed
That boy has faded like the weeds of Hindenburg.

Standing still
Nothing but the sound of life
Passing me by
Silent rhythm of a follower
Disciple of the popular crowd.

Today I’m trapped inside this body
Kids are growing and life is flowing
So far from my home town now
An hour seems an eternity
Still the one in the middle
Man on the outside
Meets boy who dreams of tomorrow
Like a golden ticket that never comes
Hopes held high in mediocrity
Only the words can set me free
From standing still forever now.

Oh Lord, where have the years gone?
Still feels like I’m standing here
Nothing but the sound of life
Passing me by
Silent rhythm of my heart beat
Drowning out the popular crowd.

To Wonderings Past and Present

Today I would like to share something that came to me out of the blue after purchasing a Christmas gift for a good friend of mine. He has been a counselor and friend to me for more than a decade now and I felt the time was right to show him how much he has meant to me on this journey of self discovery. And so, here's to R. C.; a true companion on the journey.

To wonderings past and present
On paths or trails I spent
Traversing hill or dale
In search of meaning went
With staff in hand a true companion
To clear the weeds or test the depths
Of streams I longed to cross
Through fields of morning vale
In hopes of greater meaning there
Amidst the journeys grander scale
Return to tell the tale
In kind a gestured gift
Reminiscent of the climb
Which took me there
A higher plain on which to tread
Where no doubt could arise
And break familiar ties
That ruled my life
And left for dead
The dreams of freedom in my head
That stood the test of time.

Plainly Spoken, Pefectly Understood

I was clicking through the channels on my television the other night and came across the film, “Evan Almighty.” Now, granted, most people probably had enough from the first installment with Jim Carrie; a bitter man who blames God for abandoning him and causing his bubble to be burst because someone else got the promotion he should have gotten and the ensuing chain of unfortunate events that followed. Then, as if God had had enough of the tantrum, comes to the man personally as a lowly janitor and proceeds to give him the “keys to the kingdom” as it were. The whole idea of God having a tough job to do and putting the lowly egotistical human in his place by putting him in his shoes washes with some but really irks countless others. While I see the entertainment value of the story, I can also see how humans flock to the things they know like bodily functions and sex as a way to try and distract themselves or their attempts to relate to a higher consciousness. This brings me back to the latter.

Evan is a man who has seemingly come full circle in life and has found no satisfaction in trying to make a difference in the world. No matter how hard he tries, the human condition always seems to supersede his efforts and nothing gets accomplished; the “status quo” prevails. It is then that God arrives and provides the opportunity for Evan to really get the attention of people by doing something as outlandish as building an ark. The ensuing events evoke a few laughs, but there is one scene in the movie that really struck me. As Evan is busy putting together the ark, his family sits at a table at a restaurant or bar eating fried food and being quite bewildered. His wife orders a refill on her meal and in walks God posing as a waiter and offers advice on the situation.

What strikes me is the truth in what he says. “When someone prays to God for courage, does he give them courage or does he provide an opportunity to show courage?” When a person prays for patience and understanding, does he give them or does he provide opportunities for a person to show them?” I guess you could say God is more plainly spoken than we think some times and we could be more understanding if we see life in terms of problems as opportunities rather than afflictions. He gave us all we need to survive and he gives us the wisdom to overcome if we simply choose to. I’ll have to get back with you when this starts working for me as I am still struggling with a few of my own issues. That is what I mean by my life as “A work in progress.”

Yuletide Legacy

I found out when I was a kid that a portion of the Miami and Erie Canal ran through our back yard. By the looks of it you really could not tell as the banks had long since been pushed in and there were faint clues like portions that widened at certain points and standing water most of the year in what looked like a drainage ditch. My older brothers used to trap for musk rat and mink along it and hunt for rabbits further south out of town towards the clay tile mill. It is said that the bricks that went into our twin steeple church were formed and fired there in the late eighteen hundreds. I remember sledding down the weed covered hill onto the ice covered pond behind the clay works in winter.

Today, the canal looks much like it did then but the mill pond and sledding hill are long gone. I wonder how many miles of red clay drainage tile still lie beneath the earth in fields all around the surrounding area near my home town. They were used to control the drainage of what used to be The Great Black Swamp. It took a hardy group of immigrant farmers to clear, drain and produce crops on such a land so hostile. Just the mosquitoes alone would have been enough to drive many away. Some of my ancestors came down from Canada to dig the canal so that goods and people could settle and move through the area on their way to Lake Erie, Cincinnati and beyond.

This causes me to imagine the faith of these people that brought them there to begin with. German, Dutch and French left familiar faces and family to claim a piece of the American dream. And so, here is my rendering of that time through the words and images that came to me in a dream some years ago. It all begins with Christmas Eve…

On a cold December night
As the stars shine bright
Windowed faces of log houses
Flicker in candle light.

Warm quaint spaces
Crackling fire places
Kettles cooling beside once busy hearths
Shadowed now in evening shade.

In a time long forgot
People settle in their cots
While snow drifts gather
Ever higher along a man-made river.

Paths between cleared fields
Scarred by wagon wheel trenches
Now covered in utter white perfection
Stretch a lonely mile in twilight.

Forest branches creaking restless
Weight of ice and arctic breezes
Bring dormant trees to life
In clues of seasons past.

Doe and yearling forage
For a meal made scarce
Steaming breath releasing
A drink of water from a thin veiled stream.

Everywhere, darkness lingers
Stilled by a shining celestial body
Gleaming high above in an eastern sky
While immigrant farmers dream a yuletide scene.

A story told since youth
Son of God born a humble birth
In a land of palm fronds and sand
A king of heaven on earth.

Simple men tending their flocks
Wise men stirring from their dreams
Flee to a simple manger in Bethlehem
To see a Savior who would be king.

Now, looking back upon tradition
Christians telling in succession
This same story passing generations
As our founding is self evident
Remains for us a destiny
Like an American yuletide legacy.

The River Rush

I have heard people speak of the excitement of white water rafting; I have experienced the runner’s high and known the cold darkness of despair. Some things we gather by way of our senses and others through the filter of our past experience or what we perceive to be the way to happiness.

What I think is missing sometimes is that we fail to slow ourselves down enough to really hear the river rush or follow the trail that leads to true happiness. We are simply too busy moving at the speed of life that there does not seem a moment to comprehend the purpose of what we are trying to accomplish. Matthew Kelly suggests that we focus too much on ourselves and fail to “see the forest through he trees” if you will. What he recommends is opening ourselves to the happiness of others and leaving the rest to God to fulfill, namely the pursuit of happiness.

Christmas is an opportunity as much as a problem for many of us, especially those who are jobless, homeless or lacking some other means to securing happiness. We equate having a steady income or a warm place to sleep with the idea that happiness is something we earn rather than something that occurs as a result of giving ourselves up to the will of God. I can tell you from experience, there is nothing more joyful than seeing the look in a child’s eyes and smile when you recognize them for the special person that they are and in turn see them offer themselves freely to help someone else. Now that is some powerful stuff!

For me, those moments of joy come when I go freely into the wilderness and sit quietly or walk amongst God’s creation. Even so, it adds more when I can share it with someone else who may not take the time to do so often enough. More than not I hear about sore feet or aching legs, but the more you go there, the less it seems a burden. So remember to listen to the sounds all around you and let God take you to that place where happiness awaits. Take care and God bless!