Nothing Is Something

They say we are our ancestors

And I believe that’s true

Often times I catch myself

Doing what they would do.

My ancestors were Puritans

With a work ethic tried and true

No time for sloth or laziness

We’re on this earth to DO.

My soul is more contemplative

The busy life’s not for me

I find myself more at peace

When I can simply BE.

I’ve developed a great solution

I’ll combine the DO and the BE

I’ll rest on the bank of a flowing creek

But take my fishing pole with me.

Then my conscience will be at rest

And critical tongues of those who look

For I, a doer will cast my line

But on the end will be no hook.

SEED & SEA

I feel inspired by trees.  They simply are what they are; true to the seed they grew from.  They stand there year after year, quietly living through their seasons of growth; buds, blossoms, and leaves that in the spring are bright green and in autumn turn red, orange, and yellow.  Then they die and fall to the ground, feeding the tree in the barren season and seeding new growth for the next season; quietly and unpretentiously the cycle repeats itself year after year.  They don’t try to impress others or even improve themselves.  They simple are what they are and do what they were created to do.  That inspires me to BE and DO the same.

The ocean is similar.  It simply is what it is.  It’s pretty much the same everyday; the waves roll in, the waves roll out.  On windy and stormy days the waves are higher and faster, but they maintain the same rhythm; roll in, roll out.  The more I watch, the more I adopt its rhythm; in my breathing; in my soul.  I become memorized and soon reach the sense of a deep contemplation and centeredness. I become one with the sea and I am at peace.

For many years I tried to be someone, or do something.  I had this image of who I was supposed to be and what I was suppose to do.  This image was internally imposed by me and externally imposed by the expectations of others.  I failed many times at both.

Now what matters most to me is that I am true to the seed that God planted and desired me to grow into.  I have stopped trying and simply am who I am.

THE MYSTERY & MAGIC OF TREES & OCEANS

The two things in nature that speak to me most are old seasoned trees and the ocean.  There is something mysterious and magical about them that has resonated in my soul since I was a child.  I spent a lot of my life playing in the woods and reading stories about elves and fairies that inhabited ancient forests.   I enjoyed reading about the pioneers and Indians who lived in the woods when America was new and being explored.

I a lot spent a lot of my life near the ocean.  I would spend my time on the beach building sand castles, climbing the rocks, and just sitting and watching this immense body of water, looking out at the horizon, wondering what was on the other side.  I loved reading stories about fishermen and whalers who made their livelihood living on boats and catching fish.

I feel a sense of wholeness, of being at home with myself when I walk in the woods or sit and watch the waves on the ocean.  They both feed my soul as nothing else does.

CONSIDER THE SQUIRRELS

The bareness of the winter trees allows me to closely watch the squirrels that have become my morning companions.  Their homes are plentiful in the tall trees, intricately built to withstand they elements they are exposed to on a daily basis; wind, rain, snow, cold.  Every morning I watch these creatures perform death defying acts on the tallest tree limbs as they scurry up and down them, performing their morning routine.  Everyday is pretty much the same for them; clean themselves on a branch, gather food, run around campus for awhile, sit in the sun and rest.  I find myself wondering what they think about; what their take on life is.  I have enjoyed companionship with several squirrels throughout the years.  They know me and I knew them; a few so well that they would actually knock on my window if I was tardy in feeding them, and one even would eat out of my hand.

 At times I am envious of these creatures.  They know how to do life simple and well.  They have shelter and food, and seem to be content with that.  It makes them a lot freer than me.  I have stuff; lots of stuff.  I love my stuff but it ties me down.  I have worked at not accumulating more, but I find it difficult to de-accumulate what I have.  I don’t generally reread books but for some unknown reason I find comfort in keeping them around me on bookshelves.  The same with my writing; when I try and go through boxes of papers written years ago, it ends up returning to the keep box, leaving the discard box empty.

If I had a permanent house with an attic, that is where all this stuff would be, waiting for someone to come, after my death, and throw it all out.  Putting that in writing makes it seem even more ridiculous to safe all this stuff; moving it around as I try and find a place to settle down for me and my stuff.  They seem like children that never grew up and still remain living at home; burdens, but lovely burdens I can’t throw out.

All these books and papers are good stuff.  The world is full of good stuff.  The study of theology and religion has filled libraries with books and seminaries with students; there are even more books, seminars, programs, and material telling me how to live and plan my life well.  I could accumulate all this knowledge and wisdom until the cows come home.  Or I could watch the squirrels; consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. 

ROOTS OF STABILITY & SUSTAINABILITY

It’s the inner disciplines that I am attracted to in all faiths.  It’s the monks I look to as teachers, those intentionally immersed in the life of their faith.

It’s the inner peace that manifests itself in outward strength, integrity, humility, and nobility.  It seems that once that inner self is at rest, the outer circumstances of life can come and go and leave no trace on the soul; it’s that monastic heart; the place of being asleep in the boat during the storm.  (Matthew 8:23-27)

Old trees present that sense of stability and sustainability.  They have weathered the storms, withstood the droughts, and continued to grow strong and sturdy circumstance after circumstance, season after season.  Externally they are scarred and weathered by the elements; internally they are well rooted, grounded, and nourished by the elements.  They stand tall in grace and glory and speak rest to my soul. 

The peace that passes all understanding comes from being rooted and grounded in the inn dwelling of the Holy Spirit in my heart, mind, and soul; communion and connection with God the Father and Jesus,  His Son, the One who abides in me and makes his home with me. (John 14: 23; 15:1-8)  It has put a silence in my inner being and it is out of that place, that silence that I want to live, speak, and do all that I do.

It’s the inner disciplines that feed and nourish me; for those I look to the monks of the ancient faiths, and the seasoned trees of the ancient forests as my teachers.  (Isaiah 58:11, 12; 61:4)

Louis Agassiz

"I spent the summer traveling.  I got halfway across my backyard."

"Study nature, not books."

The study of Nature is intercourse with the Highest Mind.  You should never trifle with Nature."