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Doing my best to be all that I am so the what is dark will be brought to light in me where I stand eternally on the cusp of a new era and grace shines redemption like a star!
Happy holidays to friends and family near and far.
Love,
Don
This time of year, when the days are short and the cold even more so than the summer heat forces me to remain indoors, it is easy to feel cut off and isolated when in fact I am deeply embedded in an extensive web of love and concern. I think of all of those who help me, and of those that I have had the privilege to have touched, hopefully more often for the better and understand, that loneliness and isolation are as illusory as connectedness. There is no I. There is no we. There is now.
It snowed all night, and before that freezing rain. Temps were in the mid-30s, before dark. Now the only sounds are the occasional sirens, and my dog licking himself. It all seems to underscore my loneliness. But then ultimately, in this world aren't we all alone. Yes, yes, I know about the difference between being alone and being lonely. Trust me, I am the king of solitude. I luxuriate in it. It's the amniotic fluid in the universal womb. And then you're born.
I took a break to let out the dog, my estranged wife called and now I write again. Strange that we should be estranged and yet so close, closer perhaps then when together. Life is like that, perverse.
In this dark season as all creation holds its breath on the verge of annihilation when millions reach out with open arms and open hearts to find redemption, I say, amen.
Christmas Prayer 2005
My father who is 82 years old is in need of prayers. I trust in the silence of the universe and put his need before you. He has degenerative arthritis of the spine and renal failure, he's been on hemodialysis for almost two years now and has been doing quite well. Last week he had cataract surgery. He developed a postoperative infection in his eye Friday night, for which he is receiving treatment. The prognosis is unknown.
He grew up the only child of a single working mother during the Depression, in Akron, Ohio. He tells of walking across the city one Christmas Day to receive a bag of candy the size of my fist as his only Christmas present that year, not with sorrow or regret but with awe and appreciation for the abundance in his life. Quiet. Sincere. Matter-of-fact.
Everyone I know finds peace and joy in his presence.
Reading has been his lifelong passion please join me in directing the energy of our holy spirit, the power of the creator to sustain and heal my father. Bring him continued joy that we may yet be blessed by his humanity.
May all creation say amen.
1. Shit happens.
2. Shit piles up.
3. Shit rolls downhill.
Did I forget anything?
When the day dawns pointless and insecure,
the underbelly of the beast beckons like the smells
that rise from mama's kitchen, in swirls like the water
around Ahab's whale, to waltz with thoughts
too dark to speak even to a faceless lover,
determined to ride forever the impulse to extinction,
aching for submission; desire in all directions
calls with the Sirens' song.
© Copyright 2005 Don Anderson (UN: ordinarymystic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
We are infinite and eternal beings who have assumed human form in the service of creation. We create the world around us with our thoughts and intentions. Blessing and forgiveness flow through us.