Changes

There are days when my nerve damage allows me to walk with minimal frustrations. On these rare occasions I usually take advantage by walking the community in which I work. One day I happened upon two individuals sipping coffee and enjoying the sunshine. You could tell by their clothing that they were passing through since everyone around them looked like an L.L. Bean catalog. I don't know why but my mind drifted back to simpler times when I enjoyed being. I had casualness about the day and thought anything could happen and it usually did. My clothing was simple, my meals were simple, and my desires were simple. Funny how torn jeans can remind you when a cup of coffee and a camel cigarette would start out the day quite nicely. Success is determined by our income and soon keeping up with the Jones's chokes out spontaneity like weeds overcoming a garden. When we determine that enough is enough the Universe seems to co-conspire with Fate and change happens. How that change affects us is contingent upon whether we look at it as opportunity or further disappointment.

I know change has occurred at the molecular level because I walked through Half Price Books and left empty handed. I don't believe I have ever visited a book store without walking out with hope in hand just knowing that the next paragraph I read will change my life. The realization that all the surrounding books were just other people's opinions struck me silly. Apparently my subconscious had already determined this because before I knew it I was musing it would be a long time before I purchased another book.

The majority of my life's changes have been surprises that were actually premeditated actions carried out while in denial. I'm not sure how many times I swore I would never do, say, or become a particular mold only to end up knee deep in it. This is a curious spot for me. I have always relentlessly pursued any and all spiritual and paranormal matters with a vigor and determination. Now I am more than happy to just experience whatever Providence assigns to my path. I look forward to investigating with an openness of possibilities instead of predetermined dogma in my arsenal. The simple act of being present in your own life really does allow appreciation for the small, overlooked happenings. A child's drawing, a dog's happy dance, or a wave from a neighbor can compliment a day. I think of times when I asked my daughters to play quietly while I read a book on how to experience happiness. If I would have just been present in my daughter's presence I would have heard the stories and shared in their laughter. For so long I looked only to the end result that I deemed appropriate instead of allowing what is and what can be to unfold on its own.

Many moons ago during a Dharma discussion I made the comment that I continued to build shelves in my garage for boxes containing contents that I hadn't seen in years. The discussion was centered on our Western culture and consumerism. I thought it curious that I maintained these possessions but was unwilling to let go. I was thinking of that discussion when for the first time yesterday I exited my car without reaching for several books, pamphlets, or documents that I was sure would shed a light on the How's and Why's of this life. I stepped from the car free and light and liked the feel.

It reminds me of a story an old man in Memphis told me. He asked if it made sense for a drowning man to cling to a sack full of rocks. I responded no. He pressed further, "Even if he thought they were the most important items in the world?" Envisioning the silliness of losing a life over possessions I still responded no. He sat back smiling and stated, "All he has to do is let go."

Midnight Confessions From A Goodwill Couch

The groove in my mojo has taken a hiatus. I'm not sad; surprisingly I'm reasonably happy. My children and wife seem to enjoy life as we know it, but I'm left with this awkward hollowness. I'm not sure if feeling neutral is a good thing or bad thing? I don't want letters of concern or how God's got a plan for my life. I'm neither depressed nor suicidal, I just am. These types of seasons fade in and out in everyone's life. They're the ebb and flow that allow rest then rejuvenation. The older I get the more apt I am to "bend like the willow" as my Philippine friend always suggested. I joke now that the more out of shape I get the more diplomatic I become. It's that way in the spiritual realm as well. I sort of hit a plateau and there isn't a system, belief, or fundamental practice I haven't considered. I'm tired of debates and arguments and wonder if my pursuit of knowledge within religions hasn't jaded me somehow.

This morning I filled out a useless survey to break the monotony of a slow business day. One of the questions asked addressed any concerns and I responded "my faith." I have taken it easy on myself in the arena of beliefs even though I'm under constant barrage of other's beliefs aimed in my direction. Out of all my endeavors I tried desperately to practice Christianity with mixed results. I was evangelized that I needed Jesus in order to avoid damnation, so I bought the fire insurance. I have witnessed the Divine Comedy of evangelists who shout dramatically rehearsed prophetic proclamations that never come to fruition. The fail safe go to response of most evangelists when the blessings fail to flow is, "It must be your lack of faith or unresolved sin in your life." It's sort of like being a weatherman; you can be wrong the majority of the time and still not be held accountable. I wish I could be wrong as often and still get a love offering. Ironically in biblical times they stoned prophets when events didn't come to pass as forecasted. I have also seen the faith of a child that can silence the most hardened skeptic.

At one time I thought I would be behind a pulpit in service to God and mankind but I couldn't come to grips with the exclusiveness of a love that cost nothing, requires everything, and is hinged on my ability to earn God's approval through his follower's acceptance. Even then there are no guarantees! To make matters worse many have been excluded from fellowship by default with God's elite for being the very thing they are told they need a Savior for. I have witnessed so many concede the argument only to become disillusioned and bitter because the destination didn't match the brochure. I've taught, preached, and debated on radio and TV the importance of the resurrection and the impending doom of all who forsake it. But in the end it was only an elaborate attempt to feel better about myself. If I did "This, Thus, and So" surely God will be forced to keep his end of the bargain by blessing me with a trouble free life. An abundant life is evidence that God loves you. The shoe never fit and I remained employee of the month at Sins-R-Us.

Still there is a twinge of guilt when I don't drink the company Kool Aid of modern Christianity. My daughters have been raised in a church setting and pray to Jesus daily. I listen in reverence and respect to the messages on Sunday morning but feel as if the pastor is talking to someone else; someone who knows the correct formula for winning God's approval. In Barbara Brown Taylor's book "Leaving Church," she describes my conundrum perfectly:

"God was the boundless lover, but for many people God was the parent who had left. They still read about him in the Bible and sang about him in hymns. They still believed in his reality, which made it even harder to accept his apparent lack of interest in them. They waited for messages from him that did not arrive. They prepared their hearts for meetings that never happened. They listened to other Christians speak as if God showed up every night for supper, leaving them to wonder what they had done wrong to make God go off and start another family."

Never before has a passage from a book described me. Man, I thought this was going to be a fluff piece. I was going to attempt to encourage others that are exploring multiple paths as I have walked such as Buddhism (Tibetan, Shin, and Nichiren), Christianity (Evangelical Fundamentalism, Eastern Orthodoxy), Hinduism, Shamanism, and Taoism, to stay the course and that all roads lead home. Now I see that I am more than shipwrecked on the island of uncertainty. Perhaps I still have issues with this God "who became flesh and dwelt among us."

I enjoyed many aspects of each practice and try to apply the useful and store the rest for future reference. T.S. Elliot once wrote about coming home at journeys end and knowing that place for the first time. I feel I have attempted to return home only to find my room has been rented out. I can say with confidence that I have never really had a home. No one wants to admit they're the odd man out. It's almost like being picked last for a game of dodge ball. Still, I would love to hear that knock at the door that so many promised would come. The phone works, I just never got the call.

Actions

Any thought, action, or emotional event is like a pebble thrown onto the calm surface of a pond. The pebble creates ripples that have consequences as they spread out on the pond's surface and interact with floating objects and the shoreline.


The greater the size of the pebble and the stronger the intensity with which it is thrown, the greater the size of the ripples. Throwing the pebble in the pond ensures that there will be consequences leading to more consequences and so on. The game of life then is in process.


It is your judgment which makes it appear positive or negative. You may generate what you may call positive karma by donating a large sum of money to a needy individual. In another incident, you may generate what you call negative karma by stealing a large sum of money from your neighbor. Both are important lessons in living that ultimately lead toward greater human understanding and love. The one judged negative simply is the longer path.



~ José Stevens, Ph.D.

You're Worth The Print

Tuesday I was spending my lunch break in a chic yuppie watering hole called First Watch. The ambiance is nice and the organic ingredients allow me to eat waffles without feeling guilty. It’s a step up from my usual haunt where the bus boy uses so much bleach your eyes water and the waitress hardly has any teeth.

As I was waiting to be seated a gentleman next to me began to read the paper. I don’t enjoy reading the news but I have a bad habit of reading over other people’s shoulders when they do. I noticed that the articles were on the local story of Matt Maupin, a Glen Este native that was the only MIA soldier in the Iraq until his remains were found March 30, 2008. I started thinking about the last four years and what the community has gone through as we hoped and prayed for his safe return. Soon after Matt’s capture, Keith and Carolyn Maupin opened a Yellow Ribbon Support Center in Eastgate, Ohio. July 10, 2006, a memorial garden was dedicated in honor of Matt by well known local gardening author, Becke Davis. She designed and constructed the garden at Glen Este High School, Matt’s alma mater. I attended that ceremony and it was evident by the signs and ribbons that this small school had been profoundly affected. Just two days ago Matt’s parents were in the Cincinnati Reds Opening Day Parade having only learned of their son’s fate the night before. What an emotional roller coaster.

I was snapped back into reality by the gentlemen’s remarks after viewing a political cartoon depicting Matt walking into heaven with a Welcome Home banner overhead. He wanted to know what the big deal was because it’s been four years since his disappearance and basically who cares. The lady with him stated that they just found his body. The guy had the nerve to shrug and shake his head as if this was all a waste of good print. I felt like back handing him, but since I was there to discuss Buddhism with a fellow traveler I decided against it.

Twenty two years ago I swore this oath just as Matt did.

"I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

It was one of the proudest moments of my life. I fully trusted that the country I served wouldn’t command me in harms way recklessly and without merit. In return I would fight to the death to preserve her. I am now more cynical and a bit jaded as years gone by. It still saddens me to know that there are individuals who take their anger towards an unjust war out on our men and women who are serving with our best interest in mind. Our opinions may vary concerning the war but I believe you can support the troops and still be against the war. My wife and I have done just that since the invasion.

To date over 4000 U.S troops have given their ultimate as well as over 100,000 civilian Iraq’s since last count in 2004. I don’t think we can simply shrug and shake our heads when any life is lost. I would like to see that man explain to Matt’s mother and father that it’s been four years and it’s time to get over it and stop peppering his precious paper with redundant print.

We think you’re important Matt. You were dearly loved by your family and well liked by your community. Thank you for your service. You will be missed.