A Time for Everything

To every thing there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up;

a time for war, and a time for peace;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

This poem from Ecclesiastes,
with all of its conflicting purposes
and meanings of life, has
long been a favorite of mine.

I remember that it was

also one of my father's favorites. 

I don't think it is any accident that this poem

of insight, wisdom, and hope

is found in the same Biblical book 

that cries out, repeats, echoes, and resounds 

with this despairing declaration:

Vanity; All is Vanity.

I have often wondered about this juxtaposition.
I've also thought about the wording of this phrase;

vanity is used in a manner that is uncommon 

in our time and it didn't quite make sense to me.
Eventually I sought alternate

translations for habel, the Hebrew word 

that has been traditionally translated as vanity.

Here are a few that I found:

Meaningless; All is meaningless.

Meaningless seems too extreme.

Useless; All is useless.

Seems hopeless.

Futility, everything is futility. 

Hmmm. This seems to capture the essence. 

Futility; All is futility.

It is not that I feel or believe

 that all of life is futile.  

But haven't there been times

in your days and weeks 

when it feels like there is no sense or reason

 for much of anything?  

It is not uncommon during times of 

despondency or depression; 

perhaps also during times of utter frustration.  

Or perhaps when facing inner responses 

to a milestone of aging.   

During such times there can easily arise 

a sense of futility; 

perhaps even a useless, senseless void.

And the vanity, or futility,

 of life may recur in life just as it does 

in this ancient book of wisdom.

These two themes, seasons of the spirit 

and a recurring sense of futility,

resonate with the human spirit.

For me, at this time in my life, they have special meaning.  

I have chosen to take a leave of absence.  Again.  

For I want to experience life.

 I do not want to sink into the quicksand of futility.  

It has had its paralyzing hold on me before.

I sank up to my knees, bound by some force,

and I could not walk forward.

I sank up to my waist and could not turn to face life around me.

I sank further; up to my neck so that I had to stretch
just to breathe.

And I finally asked for help.  

This time I am veering away from that looming miry bog.

I am walking toward something else.

What that is, I am not sure.

I am still learning to be.

And I am now intent on seeking how
to value being rather than doing.

I want to learn mindfulness.

I want to experience joy.

And I want to share in life with others.  

How about you?  Where are you now?

Experiencing a paralyzing rise of futility in your life?

 Planting rather than plucking-up?

Or surprised by plucking-up rather than planting? 

Enjoying a season of laughing, dancing, and joy?

For everything there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under heaven.

Down the Rabbit Hole!

I've jumped down the rabbit hole

into something new!

What can be new and exciting with a jump
down your own rabbit hole?

PS: Let me know if you'd like Your face

collaged into this digital piece.

(I'm amazed how much my 

ten-year-old partial face

looks like mine now -- plus

my well-earned wrinkles of course!)

Just leave me a note in comments or email.
We can place your face, or that of
someone you love, into the digital piece.

Free gift from me to you!

Happy Spring!

Spring does come ... regardless.

Thanks for the pic Cody!

All Shall Be Well

Whatever the circumstances of her life,

including the Black Plague

-- not just once -- but twice --

Julian of Norwich received

this "Showing" from God:

All Shall Be Well

All Manner of Things Shall Be Well

And All Shall Be Well.

What circumstances cloud your days?

How might you imprint this promise over

that situation?

Ordinary Miracle

It's not that unusual

when everything is beautiful

It's just another 

ordinary miracle 

today.

Sarah McLachlan

Laughing With Friends -- A Treasure

My grandfather was known for climbing the 

water tower in Crowell (Texas).  

His best friend's mother called his mother one afternoon 

and said, "Dwight's up on that tower again."

That's the friend in this story from my youngest Uncle:

I came to the hospital to visit dad during the last few months, 

and the nurses were kind of chuckling and talking.

I asked what was going on, and they said,

 “We saw this elderly man come in with a walker 

and go to your dad’s room. 

He opened the door and rolled his walker in, 

then went in and shut the door.  

And then in a few minutes we heard two teenagers in there.”

Who are the friends that can still make you laugh like a teenager?

What a treasure they are!

More treasures:

Family memories

Watercolors by your mother (in her young eighties)

Vintage photographs saved by relatives

After the night ...

As long as the night seems,

the morn will still dawn.

What brings you hope today? 

I am

I am

the tall Red Hollyhocks my grandmother grew,

the Crepe Myrtle my mother loves.

I am

the books my father loved,

the museums we spent hours exploring, 

the movies he took us to see.

I am

the laughter of my husband's puns;

I bask under his quietly watchful eye.

I am the conversations
with my daughter and her love;
I am their photographs:
the waterfalls, the fireworks, the morning sky.

I am the joy of our son,

the woman he loves,

the child he delivered,

the three he takes sledding,

the flowers he tends.

I am

the children of my husband,

their loves, their children five.

I am their music, their sports,
their smiles, their eyes.

I am.

I still am.

I am

the Beloved of the One who

holds all Beloved.

I am

the Winter Pansies,

the Red-Twig Dogwood.

I am

the pine trees

greener-than-green

in the winter sun.

I am my friends.
I am you.

I am

all those around me;

the hunched-over figure,

the smiling women,

the 5am men who buy their drugs,

the yogis, the sparkling tin in the alley,

the abandoned wooden cog in the street,

the gracious neighbor

and silent city skyline.

I am

the rows of corn,

the spiders un-stomped,

the peacocks

and longhorn

and wild kittens.

Who are you?

The Beloved also, that I know.

David's Story

As you explore this box what images

capture your attention? 

What juxtaposition of items bring

questions to your mind?

It's from the series

Stories Without Words

that I've just finished for my

first exhibit.  Exciting!  It's up at Dazzle, 

a jazz club here in Denver, for a few

more weeks.  

And now -- finally -- I'm posting again

on my blog. Thanks to all of you who've 

emailed or left notes on earlier posts 

asking me to come back!

      

So ... what are your ideas about David's Story.

The inspiration for my piece is only

the beginning. Your imagination

brings dimension and expands the story

into your own life experiences.

Share your thoughts and we'll explore together.

Have fun!